by Laura Landon
“I wish that were true, Anne. Only someone very ill would have done what Mother did.”
“You can’t mean that, Ben. What did Mother do? You can’t say she did something so bad that Father will never let her come back, and not tell me what it was.”
Ben looked into his sister’s eyes, eyes that mirrored his own. “If it were up to me, I’d tell you. But Father doesn’t want you to know.”
“Why?”
“Because he loves you and wants to protect you as long as he can.”
“He thinks I’m a baby,” she cried out. “But I’m not!”
Ben gathered his sister in his arms. “I know you’re not. But Father wants to protect you. At least a little longer.”
“Oh, Ben,” she cried as she clung to him. “I miss her. I want Mother to come back. I want us to be a family like we used to be.”
“I know you do, Annie. But that isn’t possible.”
“No,” she cried, pulling out of his arms. “I hate you! I hate all of you.”
Anne turned away from him, then ran to the house. “Anne! Anne! Come back!” But he knew she wouldn’t. He knew she was too upset to come back.
Ben followed her to the house. Winnie and Rachael were in the large drawing room. Anne was sobbing against Winnie’s shoulder, and Rachael stared at him with a helpless—and angry―expression on her face.
“Take Anne home, Winnie,” he ordered. “Stay with her.”
Winnie nodded, then walked Anne to the door. Ben went with them. He helped them on with their wraps, then tried to give them each a hug before he placed them in the carriage. Winnie clung to him with a fierceness that told him how much what was happening was affecting her.
Anne refused to let him hold her. She was angry, and he didn’t blame her. She needed to know why things were the way they were. It wasn’t fair to keep her in the dark.
He stood on the top step on the portico and watched the carriage until it was out of sight. Then walked back into the house.
He hadn’t handled that well at all. Instead of helping Anne to understand, he’d made matters worse.
He entered the drawing room where Rachael was waiting for him. Her fists were braced on her hips and her lips were clamped tightly together. Her eyes were narrowed and fired shots of anger.
And Ben knew his conversation with Anne had been pleasant compared to the one he was about to have with his wife.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ben stopped just inside the room. He wasn’t sure exactly how he should handle this. He knew Rachael would want to know what he’d said that had upset Anne so. And that was something he couldn’t tell her. Not if he wanted their marriage to continue as it had. And yet…
“I thought you said there could be no secrets between us,” she said. “Did that apply only to secrets I might have? But not the ones you were keeping from me?”
Her words struck him like sharp needles pricking his skin. That’s exactly what he’d told her.
He walked to a small table in the corner of the room and pulled the stopper from a decanter of whiskey. He filled a glass and took it to the sofa. He knew he’d need it before this conversation was over.
“I didn’t intentionally keep any secrets from you, Rachael. This is just something I—”
“You didn’t want me to know,” she interrupted before he could finish his sentence.
He lifted his glass to his mouth and took a drink. “Yes. Something I didn’t want you to know.”
“Why?”
His gaze shot to meet hers. That wasn’t the question he expected her to ask. Not the first question anyway. He thought she’d want to know what he’d kept from her. Wouldn’t most people want to know that first? But Rachael wasn’t like most other people. She would want to delve right through the what and get to the heart of the problem. The part that was aimed at her. The why. The reason why he hadn’t told her something. Obviously, she assumed he didn’t trust her enough to share that something with her. Something that was important.
“Come here,” he said, pointing to a place on the sofa opposite from where he sat.
She crossed the room and sat across from him. She calmly placed her hands in her lap and waited.
He wasn’t sure if she was angry with him, or hurt. Or just disappointed. But she clutched her hands tight enough that the flesh across her knuckles turned white.
“I kept this from you because this isn’t only my secret.”
“Then whose is it?”
“My father’s. Gideon’s.” He hesitated. “My family’s.”
“Is the reason you kept this from me because you didn’t want me to know this secret of yours. Or because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me?”
He thought for a moment. “Neither. Both.”
“I see,” she answered. “Then it must be something horrible.”
He took another swallow of the liquor in his glass. “It is.”
“And it involves your mother.”
Her statement wasn’t a question. She said the words as if stating a fact. He focused on her serious expression. “What did Anne say when she came in from the garden?”
“Nothing. She was too upset to say anything. She simply ran into her sister’s arms and cried her heart out. Whatever you said to her hurt her terribly. What was it Benjamin?”
Ben looked at his wife, wondering how he could explain something he didn’t understand himself. His gaze locked with hers and he knew he had no choice but to tell her everything.
Several long seconds passed. He tried several times to begin, but he couldn’t find the words.
Rachael didn’t demand an answer. As if she knew how difficult this was for him to say, she sat patiently and gave him the time he needed to find the courage to speak. Finally, he let his gaze lock with hers and said the words that he’d found impossible to say.
“I told her that as far as Father and Winnie and I were concerned, our mother was dead.”
The irritation left Rachael’s features. Her breath hitched and any anger she’d felt before was replaced by a look of confusion.
Ben refused for anyone, especially Rachael, to feel compassion for his mother because she was rejected by her family. Not after what she did.
In a heartbeat, though, Rachael’s expression changed. “I think you’d better explain why you told your sister something so terrible,” she said. “Is your mother ill? Is she dying?”
“Yes.” He raked his fingers through his hair, then took a swallow of the liquor in his hand. “No.”
Rachael’s gaze narrowed and she sat back against the sofa. “Enough riddles, Ben. Start at the beginning. And don’t leave anything out.”
Ben took a steadying breath, then spoke. “Have you ever met my mother?”
“Not formally,” she answered. “I knew who she was. Everyone did. She was a duchess, after all. One of the most well-known, well-respected…most feared women in Society. She was very influential in the success or failure of each Season’s debutantes.”
“Yes, that describes Mother almost perfectly. She was the Duchess of Townsend, and she demanded all the respect she considered due her because of her rank. There wasn’t an event held to which Mother’s name wasn’t at the top of the list. Nor a function scheduled to which Mother wasn’t invited. She loved life in London. Loved the power she wielded over Society. She tolerated the time she was forced to spend in the country only because Father insisted she accompany him here.”
Ben rose and walked across the room. He rested his elbow atop the fireplace mantel and stared into the lazy flames waving back and forth. “Do you know why Father spent as much time as he could in the country?”
Rachael didn’t answer, but he didn’t expect her to. He looked over his shoulder and found her watching him. “He came here to be with Gideon. His firstborn son. His heir.”
“I remember hearing that he was ill. That he suffered from the same sickness that took his mother.”
Ben smiled. “Ah, yes. The same sickness t
hat took his mother.” Ben walked to the sideboard and refilled his glass. He knew he’d need all the support the liquor in his glass would give him to get through this next part.
“Do you know what that sickness was?” he asked. Then laughed. “Of course you don’t. No one did. It was a terrible illness. He suffered from horrifying, brutally painful seizures.”
He sat again on the sofa across from her, but he didn’t lift his gaze to look at her. Instead, he rested his forearms on his knees and looked down at the liquor in his glass. It sloshed back and forth as if his hands were trembling. He realized they were.
“I remember the first time I saw Gideon in the throes of one of his seizures. I was eight years old at the time, and after that day, a part of me was terrified of him.”
“Of course you were,” she sympathized. “You were only a child.”
“Yes, but I didn’t want to be frightened of him. He was my brother. I loved him. But when Gideon became…ill, his face turned a mottled red and he clasped his hands to his head. The pain was so intense he could do nothing but lash out in an uncontrollable rage.
“The low, guttural growling sound he made terrified me, and gave me nightmares. Seeing him was horrifying to an eight year old. He thrashed about, and tossed furniture through the air, smashing it as if it were kindling. He attacked anyone who came within reach. The servants feared for their lives.”
Ben stopped to lift the glass in his trembling hands. He took a long swallow and prayed it would calm the churning inside him.
At some point during his telling of what Gideon had gone through, Rachael had moved from her place across from him and sat beside him. She reached for one of his hands and held it in her own. He welcomed her touch. He cherished her strength.
“By the time Gideon was eighteen, the staff was terrified of him. Even Father feared him. He was already over six feet tall, and nearly as broad-shouldered and strong as he is now. He had the same build as Father, with strong features and a commanding presence.
“I was with Father the day Gideon agreed that it wasn’t safe for him to live at Townsend Manor any longer. He feared what he might do if the guards Father had hired to watch him weren’t able restrain him during one of his seizures. He especially feared for Winnie and Anne. Annie was only four. Winnie nearing her sixth year. If they happened to be anywhere near him during one of his episodes, he could have tossed them across the room, or snapped them in two. So Father took Gideon to Shadowdown.”
“Shadowdown?” Rachael asked, still holding his hand. Her fingers now twined in his.
“Yes. Shadowdown was a home Father had built for his first wife, Gideon’s mother, when she suffered from this same sickness. It was only a short distance from Townsend Estate and was surrounded by a tall wall so his wife couldn’t escape. From the inside, one would never imagine that it was a prison of sorts. It was spacious, and beautifully laid out.
“Because Gideon’s mother loved to ride, there was ample area in which she could ride. It was immaculately kept, with gardens and trees and flowering bushes. There was even a park of sorts.”
“Your father must have loved his first wife very much,” Rachael whispered.
“She was the love of his life. He did everything he could to find a cure for her. He hired the best doctors to help her, but none of them could find a cause for her seizures.” Ben paused. “This was all before my time, of course, but Father says he feared it was hopeless. Until he found Doctor Milton.”
“He discovered a cure?” Rachael asked.
“Not a cure,” Ben answered. “A cause.”
“I don’t understand,” Rachael said.
“Doctor Milton discovered that Father’s wife’s seizures were caused by something she was ingesting. But he died before he could reveal what the substance was.”
Rachael’s fingers tightened around his. “How sad.”
“He was murdered.”
Her hand left his as she brought her hands to her mouth. A muffled cry of dismay escaped into the room.
“And Gideon’s mother was thought to be the one who killed him. She was found standing over Doctor Milton’s body. She was covered in blood, and still holding the knife she’d used to kill him.”
“Oh, no,” Rachael cried.
“So when Gideon insisted that he be removed to Shadowdown, Father couldn’t argue. If Gideon followed his mother’s pattern, Father knew what Gideon was capable of doing during one of his seizures.”
“But he seemed perfectly fine at our wedding.”
“Yes, he’s fine…now. Thanks to his wife, Eve. Eve’s father was employed at Shadowdown. Doctor Cornwell. But Eve is actually the person who discovered what caused Gideon’s seizures. She found the notes Doctor Milton took while treating Gideon’s mother. That’s how she discovered the reason behind Gideon’s seizures.”
“What was it?”
Rachael was facing him. She’d reached out again to hold his hand.
“Poison. Gideon was being poisoned. Just as his mother had been.”
“Poisoned? How? By whom?”
Ben clasped both of Rachael’s hands in his. “I don’t know the name of the poison, but it was being added to the food they were eating. Not a lot, and not at once, but over time. The killer didn’t want anyone to suspect the victims were being poisoned. And…” Ben swallowed hard. This was the hardest part to live with. The part that ate away at him every time he thought of what his mother had done. “…I think the killer enjoyed watching her victims suffer.”
Rachael’s fingers tightened around his. When he looked into her face, her eyes had grown large. They were filled with terror.
“Her? The killer was a woman?”
“The killer was my mother.”
Rachael’s hands went slack then shot to cover her mouth, to cover the cry that escaped.
For several long seconds she didn’t speak, and Ben couldn’t bring himself to look at her. When he did, the color was gone from her face and her large brown eyes were filled with disbelief.
“Your mother was responsible for the death of your father’s first wife?” she asked. Her weak voice sounded as if she barely had the courage to utter the words. As if she couldn’t believe what she was saying.
“Yes.”
“Why? Why would she do something so horrible?”
Ben bolted to his feet, then paced the area in front of her. His steps were long, angry, as if he could grind what his mother had done into the carpet beneath his feet. “Isn’t it obvious? She wanted to be a duchess. She wanted the title, the power, the prestige.”
“But to…”
“To resort to murder?” he finished for her.
“Yes.”
“According to her litany of excuses, she was in love with Father long before he met Gideon’s mother. She thought he’d offer for her. So did the rest of Society. But when he offered for Gideon’s mother, she was humiliated. She convinced herself that Gideon’s mother had tricked Father into marrying her. That he realized too late that he’d made a terrible mistake and that he regretted his marriage. She decided to save him from the mistake he’d made.”
“So she murdered Gideon’s mother to be the duchess?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to her? Where is she now?” Rachael asked.
“Father banished her to a small estate in northern England. He provided her with food, clothing, and a roof over her head. But little else. There were guards to watch her.”
“Were?”
“Yes, somehow she escaped from them. Father’s afraid she’s on her way here. Which brings me to my conversation with Anne.”
Ben returned to the sofa and sank down on the cushions. He felt as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “My sainted mother is responsible for the deaths of two innocent people. And she would have succeeded in killing Gideon, too, if Eve hadn’t discovered that he was being poisoned.”
“I can understand her motive for killing your father’s first wife, but why
did she want to kill her son?”
Ben turned his gaze and it locked with Rachael’s. “There were two reasons, actually. The first was to eliminate any reminder of Father’s first wife and the son they had created. And…” Ben spread out his arms. “She wanted me to be the next Duke of Townsend. She wanted to know that she had produced the next heir in the prestigious Townsend dynasty. Which brings us yet again to my discussion with Anne.”
Ben raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. “When we found out what Mother had done, we considered turning her over to the authorities and have her brought up on charges. None of us wanted that. The scandal it would have caused would have ruined all of us. In the end, Father made the choice to send her away. He didn’t want to ruin my chance to find a bride. Or destroy any chance for Winnie and Anne to make good marriages.”
Ben lifted his gaze and let it find Rachael’s. There was such strength in her look, and never before had he needed that strength as he did now. “I know now that we should have had her brought up on charges. If you had seen how Gideon suffered. If you’d seen the torment he endured with each seizure, no punishment would have been severe enough to avenge what she did to him. But Father didn’t want to risk his children’s futures. So he banished Mother, thinking we were done with her.”
Ben closed his eyes and took in a ragged breath that burned deep inside his chest. “We should have known that wouldn’t stop her. We should have realized she wasn’t about to give up the power and influence she wields in Society, and that she won’t give up until she’s back to resume her place. And so she continues to torment us. She’s working through Anne.”
Ben reached for his glass and emptied the liquid in one swallow. “She’s the most susceptible of us. And the most vulnerable. She doesn’t know what Mother did.”
“Does Winnie know?”
“Yes. Father didn’t intend for her to find out, but she listened outside the door and heard the entire conversation. When Father found out that Winnie knew, he made both of us promise not to tell Anne. She’s only sixteen. Father’s afraid she won’t be able to handle knowing that her mother is a murderer. He wants to protect her as long as he can.”
