Mitch brushed him off. “Why? Do you think I’m going to kill them, too?”
“No.” Will spoke quietly while gesturing toward the door. “But I imagine you’re hurting pretty badly right about now, and I’ve found that a little fresh air does a world of wonders.”
Fresh air? His daughter thought he’d killed her mother, and Will thought fresh air was going to fix it. Mitch’s stomach rolled, like he was going to be sick. Suddenly, it felt too hot in the room, as if he couldn’t breathe. Maybe some air would do him good. It had to be better than looking at the horrified expression on Polly’s face, and...well, he didn’t know what he saw on Louisa’s face, but if he had to guess, he’d think that someone had just killed her favorite pet. Only no one had been killed here. He’d merely been accused of being a murderer.
Mitch followed Will outside, pausing when Will stopped at a bench behind the church.
“Let’s sit,” he said, pointing to the seat.
“I’d rather stand.”
“Suit yourself,” Will said casually, sitting. “I haven’t had my coffee yet, since Mary still hasn’t gotten the knack of fixing it the way I like, and Maddie’s is perfect, so you’re going to have to bear with me.”
“I didn’t ask for your interference.” Mitch still felt warm, but he’d admit that the early-morning cool air was helping. Not so much as to fix the rest of his life, but at least his head was no longer going to explode.
“If you want to stay out of jail, then you’re going to have to accept it. I don’t know how much of our conversation you heard, but here is the gist of the case against you. As far as anyone is concerned, you’re the only person with motive. So you’d better think about who else would want Hattie dead, and let me start investigating.”
Something boiled in the pit of Mitch’s stomach, shooting to the top of his head in a searing pain. “What good will that do? My own daughter thinks I’m guilty.”
Will stood. “And she thinks you were justified in doing it. Didn’t you hear her begging me to make sure you didn’t go to jail?”
The boiling pain reduced to a simmer. “I don’t suppose I did.”
“Apparently, everyone thinks you have good reason. But that’s not going to win your case. If she was as horrible as Louisa said she was, someone else has to think so, too.”
Mitch ran his hand over his face, wishing he could wake up from this nightmare. “Louisa loved her mother.”
“Apparently, not as much as you think.”
Even if his stomach wasn’t already rolling, Mitch wasn’t sure he could digest those words.
“Why didn’t they say anything?”
“The same reason you haven’t told the children much about their mother’s death. They wanted to protect you. As much as you think you’ve been protecting them, I suspect they know a lot more about everything than you realized. Your children aren’t stupid. They can’t be, if they take after you.”
“They don’t.” The words hurt as they came out of his mouth, searing the inside of his throat. And yet, once they were out, his chest felt lighter than it had in years.
“Of course they do. Any fool can see that.”
Mitch shook his head. He’d lived the lie for so long that no one could see the truth. Especially since in his own heart, the biology of the fact didn’t matter to him. “None of them are mine.”
Will coughed. “Well, sure, I mean, I suppose it’s obvious that the little one didn’t come from you, but...” He coughed again, seeming to lack the capacity to understand.
“Hattie and I stopped having relations shortly after we were married.”
The first time he’d ever spoken the truth out loud. Oh, when Hattie needed to look good for the papers, she’d cozy up to him and playfully try to kiss him, but he’d always turned away. Everyone thought he was shy, but the real truth was, he stopped being able to stand Hattie years ago.
“I...don’t understand.” Will looked him up and down. “Hattie was a beautiful woman, she was...”
“With every other man who paid her the slightest bit of attention in the form of money or jewels.”
The ever-present rolling in his stomach had started to ease. What had felt like an imminent explosion in his head had become a dull roar. No one, not even his brother, had known what being married to Hattie had cost him. Pretending the truth didn’t exist had been the only way he’d been able to look at himself in the mirror.
“I’m sorry,” Will said quietly. “That must have been difficult for you.”
He looked down at the other man, whose expression was not of the disgust Mitch had felt for himself over the years, but of deep compassion.
Before he could formulate any kind of response, he heard the crunch of footsteps on the ground. Mitch turned and saw Polly approaching.
“I can tell her to leave if you’re not ready to talk to her yet,” Will said, and for the first time since the suggestion of having Will help him on the case, Mitch understood him to be an ally. He’d never really known what it was like to have someone on his side, but Will’s willingness to stand up for him against Polly meant there was action behind his words of compassion.
“No.” Mitch swallowed, feeling the scratchiness that had begun when he’d first started speaking of the situation ease. “She needs to hear this. Polly deserves to hear the truth.”
And again, the nausea that had been threatening since the awful moment in the parlor eased up. His head, almost clear. It was as though the closer he got to the truth, and to sharing it, his entire body could finally relax.
Chapter Eight
“Mitch?” Polly’s voice quivered, and as much as Mitch could still feel the sting of betrayal from them talking behind his back, he felt something else.
Guilt.
“It’s all right.” The words came out hard, like rocks, but once they were out, he felt better, as though he’d purged one more thing from his irritated system.
“I am so, so sorry.”
He could hear the tears in her voice. Deeper than the own pain of his feelings of betrayal was the pain of a woman who felt like she’d disappointed someone she cared about.
“I know.” The backs of his eyes prickled with an unfamiliar damp sensation. He’d not cried in all of this nightmare with Hattie, and yet... Mitch shook his head. Now was not the time.
He swallowed back the emotion and turned to look at her. “I imagine it must be difficult to want to help someone and have that someone be as stubborn as I am. I should have accepted your help.”
Then he gestured to the bench. “You should sit. There’s a lot you both need to know, if you’re still agreeable to helping me.”
Those clear blue eyes glistened at him. “What made you change your mind?”
Mitch looked down at Will, who wore the same compassionate expression that had given him so much confidence earlier. “A few things, I suppose. One, the reason people think I killed Hattie is I’ve done a good job of hiding the truth over the years. Two, everything I’ve ever done has been to protect my children. If protecting them means letting you help me, then that’s what I’m going to do.”
He turned his gaze down, looking at the ground, then examining his hands. “But mostly, because I told Will the truth about a lot of things just now, and I can’t believe how free it makes me feel.”
His hands seemed worn, weary, just as he was. Was it because of all the burdens he’d been trying to carry on his own for so long?
Mitch could feel Polly’s gaze on him, and he turned to meet her eyes. Warmth shone in them, and he wished he’d allowed himself to realize it before. It had been too long since he’d trusted in the kindness of strangers, and even now, it was almost hard to believe that any of this was real. Except the depth in her gaze assured him of it.
“I’ve never had allies in my life
before. My brother, I suppose, but he’s always looked up to me. How could I let him down by telling him how bad things were? I’ve had countless so-called friends in my life, but not one of them cared about my best interests. They all just wanted the inside scoop on Hattie.”
He looked from Polly to Mitch, then back at Polly. “But you’re different, aren’t you? You really do...care.”
As hard as it was to get the word out, it was harder to decipher the puzzled expressions on their faces.
“Of course we do. Why would you...” Polly started, then stopped, as if what he’d said finally made sense in her mind. “I’m sorry that you were so mistreated. And I’m sorry that my going behind your back to talk to Will made it seem like I had my own agenda. I truly wanted to help, and I’m willing to do whatever you need.”
“I know.”
And as he said those words, he did know. Even better, he had the feeling that everything would actually be all right. But he still had much to tell them.
“When Hattie and I married, I was a green youth, barely a man. I was flattered that someone so beautiful and sophisticated as Hattie would even pay attention to me.”
Looking back, he wanted to throttle his younger self for being so easily taken advantage of. “She said we should run away and get married. I was so caught up in the moment that I agreed. And we did.”
Mitch shook his head, wishing he didn’t have to admit just how easily taken in he’d been, but with each word that came out, deep in his soul, he knew that this confession was exactly what he needed.
“My family was horrified and said I’d made a huge mistake. But we were married, so what could they do? Hattie and I had a beautiful, passionate month of marriage. I thought I had struck the biggest vein of gold ever to be discovered. And then she told me she was expecting.”
Mitch could sense that Polly had shifted but didn’t realize what was happening until he felt her hand in his, leading him to the bench.
“Sit. It’s all right. You’re safe.”
Her gentle words were a balm to all the wounds he was ripping open. Safe. He hadn’t felt that way in a long time. But it was enough that he knew he could finish his story, without judgment, or the condemnation he’d seen in his family’s eyes as they watched the situation with Hattie play out. Of all things he’d felt around Polly, judgment was not one of them.
Mitch took a deep breath and continued. “Once Hattie told me she was expecting, she grew distant. Everyone said that some women got moody when they were expecting, and I assumed that was the case.”
Polly’s hand squeezed his, and more warmth shot through his body. How long had it been since he’d received compassion from another human being?
“After Louisa was born, Hattie remained distant. Louisa would be in her cradle, screaming all day, and Hattie would ignore her. I finally hired a nanny to take care of Louisa because I knew Hattie wouldn’t, and I had a store to run. The only thing that ever made Hattie even smile was an expensive gift, and I had to work hard to provide them. I kept thinking that if I just worked harder, the old Hattie would be back.”
His heart ached for the earnest young man he’d been. “When I wasn’t working, I was with Louisa, caring for her to give the nanny a break, but also because I loved my daughter and I wanted her to receive at least some parental affection.”
The memory of Louisa sobbing against him last night, combined with her words this morning, collided against his skull, and he couldn’t make sense of them, not as he remembered all the time he’d spent with her and her sweet baby scent nestled up against him. Polly murmured and patted his hand again, once more reminding him that he wasn’t alone.
Drawing on Polly’s strength, Mitch continued his story. “And then one day, Hattie informed me that she was offered a part in a traveling theater group and if I wanted her to be better, this was the way to do it.”
Even now, he wasn’t sure what the right answer had been. “What was a man to do? I let her go.”
He looked over at Polly, then at Will. Would they understand? The choice between having a wife who spent all day in bed and a woman who finally had the strength to walk around and live normally?
“After she left, I started hearing the rumors. Hattie had been having an affair with a married man, and he refused to leave his wife for her. When she became pregnant, he told her it was her problem, so she decided to marry me to give the baby a name. Our romance was all an act, and once I was convinced I could be Louisa’s father, she started back up with the man again. His wife finally got fed up, and they arranged for her to get a part with a traveling theater troupe to get her out of the way.”
Their wide eyes told him what he’d thought when he’d first heard the stories. It was too incredible to believe.
“Hattie didn’t come home for over a year. When she did, her belly was slightly rounded with another pregnancy, and she tried to seduce me. I knew it was so she could try to convince me that this baby was mine as well, so I confronted her with the rumors and she confirmed they were true.”
Polly’s indrawn breath gave Mitch a chance to pause, to take a deep breath of his own, and to try to ignore the expression of outrage on Will’s face. This was why he never told anyone. Because no man should have to put up with what Hattie put him through.
“Why didn’t you ask her to leave?” Polly’s voice was gentle, and it was the same question he’d asked himself over and over. The question that bore the judgment of his mistake and why he’d let Hattie continue to use him.
“Because she was going to take Louisa away.” Mitch brought his gaze back to his feeble, worn hands. The ones that had worked so hard for everything he had, and had done everything he could to hold his life together.
“Louisa was nearly two years old, and I loved her. Until that day, I believed her to be my natural daughter, despite the rumors. Hattie would have taken her out of spite, and I’d seen how Hattie had ignored her before. She might not have been my blood, but Louisa was my child.”
With that, he locked his eyes on Polly’s. “I would do anything for my children. Try as I might, every time Hattie came home with another baby in her belly, I couldn’t keep myself from giving that child the love it deserved. I played Hattie’s game because the only way I could keep my children was to do so. Otherwise, she’d have been on the next train to who knows where, and I’d have been helpless to do anything about it.”
Polly nodded slowly. “Do you think she would have?”
“She tried to, once. But the train broke down, and I caught up with them, only to be told by the lawman she called to protect herself from me that if the children weren’t mine, there wasn’t anything I could do.”
Mitch sighed. “So I did what I had to do to keep them. I begged Hattie to come home, and I would agree to whatever arrangement she wanted.”
And that had been his life. Dancing to Hattie’s tune because otherwise, she’d take his children, and because Hattie Winston was everyone’s darling, and an exceptional actress, he’d be unable to stop her.
Polly squeezed his hand again, and part of him wished he could have met her before he’d been so irrevocably broken. And part of him would have gone through everything all over again if it meant getting to have the five delightful children he had in his life.
Then he looked over at Will. “I know people think that the fact that Isabella is obviously not my child is why I killed Hattie. That’s one of the things the investigators asked me about over and over.”
“Maybe you got tired of dancing to her tune, so you finished it,” Will said, scratching his jaw.
“Do you think that?”
“No, but it’s what the investigators think, so you’d better have a good answer.”
Mitch let out another long breath. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. None of the children know, and I won’t have them thinking I lov
e them any less because of Hattie’s ill deeds.”
Polly gave his hand another encouraging squeeze. “I can’t imagine they’d think that. It’s obvious to everyone how much you love them, so the truth—”
“Isn’t going to help him as much as you think.” Will looked pensive as he stared at Mitch. “Who was Hattie’s current lover?”
Mitch returned to examining his hands again. “I don’t know. That was what our last fight was about. She was leaving me for good this time, because she was expecting again, and the father needed a son. I begged her to wait, to be sure that this man would accept responsibility, since now the children were of an age to hear gossip if her plan backfired, but she just laughed.”
Swallowing the lump in his throat and wishing he didn’t have to describe the mother of his children as being so callous, he looked back up at Will. “She said that if I cooperated, I could keep the others. Otherwise, she’d take them, too.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “And that’s when I said I’d kill her.”
Looking at them to see their reaction was almost too much, but he forced his eyes open and looked from Will to Polly. “I didn’t mean it, honest. I was angry because I was tired of her games, and I knew that whoever this man was, rich as Hattie claimed, there was no way he was going to marry her. She was so reckless, and it made me angry to see her doing it again.”
Mitch shook his head, realizing through the tears he hadn’t sensed were coming, that neither Polly nor Will appeared to be disappointed in him.
“I didn’t kill Hattie. I couldn’t. How could I work so hard to protect the children, then throw it all away like that?”
“I believe you.” Polly’s voice was soft as she gave his hand another squeeze.
“I believe you, too,” Will said, standing. “But there’s a big difference between convincing us and convincing a jury. I need you to give me a list of all of Hattie’s friends and associates so I can start looking into who her lover might have been.”
The Nanny's Little Matchmakers (Love Inspired Historical) Page 9
