by Faye Hall
“So he was sleeping with Albert, but trying to woo Amalie or Amanda into his bed for their money?”
“Or at least the money he thought they had. Apparently the night of the fire, Bastian was seen following Amanda into the cottage. He had been following her all night and scared her enough that she confided in one of the house servants. The servant followed Bastian outside and into the cottage. He saw Bastian lunge at Amanda. When she tried to fight him off, he beat her badly. By the time the servant ran back to the house for help, the cottage was engulfed in flames.”
When Helen went to get off his lap, Tristen’s hands grasped her hips, stopping her. “What about Amalie?” he asked. “She ended up engaged to Bastian after the fire. Did he try to force himself on her too?”
Helen stared at him for quite a while, studying his features. Finally, her hands went to his, removing them from her hips as she stood. She stalled for a moment, straightening her skirts. Unable to stand her silence, he reached out, grabbing her wrist.
“What did he do to her?” he demanded.
“He kicked her so hard she lost the baby she was carrying,” Helen explained. “Then a few months ago, a doctor was called here to help her. I was told the madam found Bastian in a room with Amalie, a knife sticking out of her stomach.”
“Just below her right rib?”
Leaning into him, Helen kissed him softly on the lips, her hand coming up and resting on his chest. “Your Amalie is lucky to be alive.”
His hand went to hers, holding it against his chest to stop her from leaving. “Do you know why he stabbed her?”
She shook her head. “Not for certain, but the women who work here say Amalie betrayed Bastian. They overheard him trying to tell some police inspector that he had proof it was you who killed Jacob, and Amalie denied it. She insisted it couldn’t be you as the man she saw running from the cottage that night had fair hair and was wearing a suit.”
“She could’ve died,” he exclaimed.
Helen smiled. “She must have really carried a torch for you. Not too many women I know would risk their lives for the man they claim to love.”
She kissed him one final time, soft and short, before walking past the bar and toward the back of the hotel. Tristen’s hands came up and rubbed over his face, his mind a maze of confusion. Determined to go back to his station and talk to Amalie about Bastian, his hands fell back to his sides and he stood up.
As he stepped away from the table, his gaze fell on the image of Amalie, her hand covering her mouth and her eyes welling with tears. Their gazes met, and he knew instantly that she had seen him with Helen. He stepped toward her, his hand reaching out to her, but she turned on her heel and ran from him.
“Damn it, Amalie!” he yelled after her. “I can explain.”
But she didn’t turn back, just kept running out of the hotel. Pushing his way through the patrons, he soon lost sight of her. Finally reaching the door, he stepped outside onto the footpath and looked around for any sign of her. Nothing.
Remembering the horse she had ridden into town on, he walked around the side of the hotel, thinking she might have tethered it out back so as not to be seen. As he rounded the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks. Amalie stood a couple of yards in front of him…with Bastian.
He shifted to a hidden position behind a weeping wattle tree, his stare glued to the two people before him. Despite all he’d heard about the violence in their relationship, watching them together—Bastian’s hands on her face, wiping away her tears—tore at his heart.
There was a familiarity between them, one he had only seen between men and women who lived together...shared a bed with each other. That last thought made his stomach lurch. He didn’t like the idea of Amalie going to another, giving to any man what she had given to him. He wanted to be the only man she showed her affections to, but as he watched the pair in front of him, he began to doubt that this was a possibility.
When Bastian lowered his lips to hers, Tristen could watch no more. Turning away and hurrying back to his own horse, he swung up into the saddle. As he turned the animal in the direction of his station, he heard the loud thud of hooves on the ground. Grabbing his horse’s reins to steady it, he watched as Amalie sped past him on her animal, her direction also his station. Kicking his beast in the flanks, he sped off behind her.
* * * *
Amalie stood in the Anabranch Hotel, hidden amongst the many drinking customers, her gaze concentrated on Tristen and the woman he was with. Watching their affectionate familiarity, her heart broke. She was a fool for ever getting involved with him again after so long. There could be no mistaking the relationship between Tristen and Helen, having known about their lengthy affair several years ago, something that appeared to still be active.
Anger and hatred boiled inside of her as she watched the two together. She had been foolish to believe Tristen truly still loved her after all these months. Helen kissed him before turning and walking to the back rooms of the hotel, and Amalie couldn’t believe how openly he was willing to show his affections for her. Unable to watch anymore, she turned and ran from the hotel, needing to get as far away from him as possible.
She was almost at her horse when Bastian stepped out of the tavern, his arms going to her and stopping her.
“Why are you still here?” he demanded to know. “Did Tristen see you?”
She tried in vain to hold her tears at bay. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” she cried. “I can’t do this. If you want property papers so badly, then you will have to get them yourself. I can’t stay with Tristen any longer.”
His hands went to her face, wiping away her tears, holding her face firmly until she whined in pain. “You keep your voice down!” he demanded in a harsh whisper. “Now you will go back to the station, and you will get me the papers I asked for!”
“I can’t find them. I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he hissed. “I know he has my property papers. The bastard made sure I knew it was him who stole them from under my nose.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You knew all along that Tristen was the one who bought up your properties, didn’t you?”
He sneered at her. “Of course I did, but I couldn’t get anyone close enough to him to steal them back for me. Then you ran into me that day out front of the Heather’s estate.”
She tried to pull away from him, but he held her firm. “Now do what I told you to,” he ordered. “You owe it to me, remember?”
“Don’t make me do this,” she begged. “I will do anything else. Anything.”
He smiled at her, and she suddenly felt more fearful than ever before. He lowered his mouth to hers, and she fought the urge to recoil, knowing what punishment he could inflict on her.
Slowly, he moved his head back away from her. “If I found you even the remotest bit attractive, I would have fucked you already. Sadly, the only use you are to me is getting those papers back.”
“And what if I can’t?”
He smiled evilly. “Then I will hand you over to the police for the murder of Albert Heather, and the fire that killed Jacob and Amanda.”
He let her go, slightly pushing her away from him. “If I don’t get those papers within the next two hours, I will send the police out to the station to get you.”
Fearful what was going to happen to her, Amalie ran for her horse and leapt into the saddle. Kicking the animal in the flanks hard, she steered it toward Tristen’s station. She needed to gather her few belongings and get as far away from Jarvisfield as she could before she was found and hung for the murder of three people.
* * * *
Tristen arrived at his station to find Amalie’s horse tethered loosely to the sandalwood tree at the rear of the house. Charging inside the back entrance, he ran upstairs to find her and demand to know once and for all what was going on.
Stopping outside the open door of her room, he stepped inside and looked around. She wasn’t there. All he saw was her travel bag ope
n on the bed, her few belongings thrown inside. Hearing noises coming from further down the hall, he went to investigate. As he approached his study, he noticed the door was open. His steps slowing, he cautiously neared the room and peered inside.
Amalie stood behind his desk, rummaging through the drawers before quickly slamming them shut. Her hands went to the few things on his desk, spreading the papers out, clearly looking for something. Leaning in the doorway, he knew what she must be looking for.
He cleared his throat. “All the deed papers are in town at my lawyer’s office.”
“Son of a bitch!” she yelled, throwing the papers in her hands across the desk and onto the floor.
“You should’ve just asked me for them when you first arrived here. It would have saved you some time, and you wouldn’t have had to fuck me just to try to distract me from your real intentions.”
She walked around the desk and toward him, pushing past him through the doorway. He reached out, catching her elbow in his hand.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demanded.
She struggled against him. “Let me go! I can’t stay here.”
Finally pulling herself free from his hold, she ran down the hall and to her room. He was close behind her. When he reached her door, he saw her throwing the rest of her belongings into her bag.
“Are you going back to Bastian?” he asked, storming into the room.
No sooner had his hand rested on her shoulder, ready to turn her to face him, Amalie spun around, her hand coming up and slapping him sharply across the cheek.
“How dare you accuse me of...of...” she spat at him. “I saw you at the hotel, remember? I saw you and Helen.”
He reached for her hand just as she was about to slap him again. “You need to listen to me. What you saw between Helen and I isn’t what you think. We have been—”
“Fucking!” she yelled at him. “I remember you always were quite fond of her, even after you jumped into my bed. I was too blind to realize it then, but now…” Her words trailed off, and she took several deep breaths as if trying to calm herself. “I won’t stay here and play second to another woman again. I might have been happy to do it once, but I can’t do it again.”
“Yet you expect me to just stand by and let you sneak away back into town and to Bastian?”
She struggled against him, but he wouldn’t let her go. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she cried.
“Damn it!” he yelled, shaking her slightly. “I saw you with him at the back of the hotel. I saw him touch you.”
“And you stood there and did nothing?” she asked, her struggles stopping.
“When I saw him kiss you, I couldn’t bear it any longer, so I left. I was just readying to head home when you sped past on your horse.”
“Bastian said I had only a couple of hours to give him the deed papers before he sent the authorities out here to arrest me for the murder of Albert Heather and for lighting the fire that killed Jacob and Amanda. He told me I owed him for what he did after Albert’s death.”
His gaze narrowed. “What exactly happened that night?”
He felt her shudder and knew that even the memory brought her fear.
“Albert thought part of my duties to him included lying on my back and spreading my legs. I disagreed. When he tried to take what he wanted, despite my objections, I hit him across the head with a vase. He rolled off me and landed on the floor. Fearful that I had killed him, I ran from the estate…and straight into Bastian.”
“And he offered you protection?”
She shook her head. “He went into the house to check on Albert. When Bastian came out he said the old man must have landed on the letter opener when he rolled off the bed, because he was lying on the floor beside the bed with the blade in his gut. I was scared what would happen to me. Bastian hid me from the police, and then demanded I work for him, trying to get information on you.”
His grip on her loosened. “And did you?”
“For a while, but more so I might find out what happened the night of the fire.” She lowered her gaze from his. “I also needed to know why you deserted me without even a word. I assumed you’d learned about the child I was carrying.”
He nodded. “I did, but by that time the doctor had been called to you.”
Her hand went to rest on her stomach. “I didn’t want to stay with him, but I was so scared what would happen to me. I had no other choice. When he took me to the hotel to live, I didn’t realize just how much he hated you, not until I heard him talking to a police inspector. Bastian tried to tell him that he had evidence to prove you were responsible for the fire. I told the investigator that I saw a man running from the cottage that night, but that I was certain it wasn’t you.”
He let go of her completely. “That was when Bastian stabbed you.”
She nodded. “I tried to leave after that, but he threatened to tell the police that I was the one who murdered Albert. I didn’t know what else to do, and I had nowhere else to go.”
“Why didn’t you come to me for help?” he asked her.
“I-I was scared,” she uttered, tears lacing her voice. “I heard so many rumors about you and the life you led. I was fearful you wouldn’t even care enough to see me.”
He studied her long and hard, looking for any sign of a lie. All he saw was her genuine fear.
“I’ll send word to my lawyer. He can have the papers Bastian wants here within the hour.”
A few tears fell from her eyes and down her cheeks. “You would do that for me?”
He nodded. “As for Bastian’s hold over you—”
Just then a loud banging on the front door rang out.
“Police!” someone yelled. “Open up now!”
She began to tremble, reaching for her bag. “I can’t stay here,” she screamed. “If they find me, I will hang for certain.”
He grabbed her arms, needing to steady her and calm her emotions. “I need to ask you something. Do you know for certain that you killed Albert?”
Her tears began to take control. “I-I don’t know.”
He had to think quickly. “You need to come with me to confront the police.”
She stood there shaking her head frantically. “Please, don’t do this.”
“You need to trust me,” he begged her.
She didn’t listen though, instead pushing away from him and running to the window to look outside.
He walked over to the window and stopped behind her, looking outside. “You will have to do as I say. They have the house surrounded.”
She turned to look at him, tears covering her face. “I will hang for certain,” she muttered in barely more than a whisper, suddenly looking pale as she slid to the floor.
He crouched down before her. “You need to trust me,” he said softly, desperate for her to listen to him.
She wouldn’t look at him, her face lowered to the ground. Suddenly, she reached out to grab something that had caught on the laces of her boot. Picking the thin piece of blue fabric up in her fingers, she brought it to her line of sight. She studied it for a moment before lifting her gaze to his.
“This is my ribbon,” she rasped.
He nodded. “It’s the one you used to tie on the tree in front of the old mansion we used to meet in. It must have fallen from my desk while you were searching through my papers.”
“Why do you still have it?” she asked.
His hand went to her face, cupping it. “Because for the last few months, all I have had of you are a few keepsakes. Now I have so much more, and I will protect it with my life.”
Just then the door behind them flung open. Standing up immediately, Tristen looked back at several police officers. “I’m sure you have a good reason for barging into my house?”
One of the officers stepped forward. “We have reason to believe that you are harboring a murderer in here.”
Tristen chuckled. “And who was supposed to have been killed?”
/> “We have it on good authority that Amalie Fergus murdered Albert Heather. If you will just hand her over—”
“No,” he said sternly. “And until you have more proof than just some hearsay, you best leave my house immediately.”
“It’s not that simple, sir,” the officer said firmly. “Bastian Tanner confirms he saw Miss Fergus murder Mr. Heather. Now, unless you can prove otherwise…”
“Actually, I can,” Tristen said. “If you go to the molly house at the other end of town, the owner there will no doubt tell you of the meetings Mr. Tanner had with Albert Heather in that place. And if you talk to the men who used to work for Albert, you might even find out that when Albert threatened to call off their affair without so much as a penny to his young lover, Bastian got quite enraged. Had the workers not walked in when they did, the old man would have been murdered there and then.”
There was a silent standoff between Tristen and the officers. Finally, the main officer glanced at his men. “I think we should visit the molly house, lads.” He turned back to Tristen. “But I assure you, if we don’t find anything, then we will come straight back here and you will both be coming to the station with me.”
The officers went to the door and began to leave.
“And don’t even think about escaping,” the main officer said. “I will leave one of my men out here with you just to ensure you stay put.”
When the last officer left, they shut the door behind them.
“What happens when they learn what you just told them is a lie?” Amalie asked, finally standing.
He stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders. “They won’t,” he explained. “That’s what Helen needed to tell me at the hotel before.”
She glanced back at him. “You’ve had Helen spying for you?”
“Information and rumors is all that ever lay between her and I,” he confessed.
She snuggled back against him. “Thank you for what you did.”
His arms went around her waist and his hands rested on her stomach. “Don’t thank me yet. Bastian is going to be none too happy when he realizes what I’ve done. I think, at least for now, it’s best if you stay here with me for a while longer.”
