The Secret Desires of a Governess (27 page)

As Elliott saw it, he had two options: confront them now, or retrieve the magistrate and charge Martha with plotting against him. The latter would prove more effectual. He suspected Martha wouldn’t leave the castle willingly. But he couldn’t leave Abigail and his son alone, not with that monster loose in his home.

How could she do this to his family? She’d been there for him growing up when his mother had been absent.

Had helped him with all business related to the castle and all correspondence that needed to be drawn up. Had helped him rear his boy when his wife could not be there for him, and later when she’d no longer been around.

That decided it. He’d catch her out. It was the only way. He eased away from the edge. He’d heard enough to damn both women.

“Abigail!” Elliott called out on taking the stairs up to the bedrooms as fast as his legs would carry him.

He’d wanted to go to her on returning to the castle, but he had gone to Jacob instead. His boy was being brave, and Elliott believed he could do what needed to be done.

He’d taken Jacob down to the stable, all without seeing Martha or Bethesda, saddled the boy up on Ivan, and sent him over to the town to collect the magistrate.

Jacob would make him proud. He trusted and knew that right down to the marrow of his bones. The only reason he hadn’t gone to Abigail first was because he knew Martha would need time to put something together that would harm his governess.

His son on the other hand needed to be away from the castle and any harm that could befall him if he interfered accidentally with Martha’s plan.

She would be caught out.

Abigail opened her chamber door, a scowl wrinkling up her brow. “Must you shout my given name about the house?”

He breathed a sigh of relief on seeing that she was well.

Barging into her room, he shut the door behind them.

“What do you think you are doing?”

He ignored her question once his eyes caught sight of a tray with a serving of stew and chunk of bread.

“Have you eaten anything?”

She spun around to see what had arrested his attention.

“No, I’m not hungry. I’m eager to quit this place if you must know.”

He grasped her face between his hands, and kissed her soundly on the lips. “Thank God.”

“What’s this about, Elliott? You can’t run through the house intimately calling me by my first name.”

“You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

She stamped her little foot and pulled her face from his grasp. “If you won’t tell me what this is about, please leave. I’m nearly finished packing and I won’t have you distracting me.”

“Abigail. I know who is responsible for your accidents.

I’ve sent my son to collect the magistrate. He should be here in a few hours, he’s going to have to collect a third party in Alnwick.”

Her eyes were wide. “Who is it?”

There was no sense in keeping the secret from her.

Maybe together they could work to expose Martha, get some sort of confession out of her. “Martha.”

“That slimy son of a devil’s fiend.”

Abigail stomped her foot again. Her curse got a smile out of him.

“Leave the food. It’s been poisoned.”

“It can’t be, Lydia brought it to me. She wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“She doesn’t know. She’s my sister, Abigail. I don’t know how I didn’t figure that out before, but I realized only today what my father had done.”

“Your sister. Why . . . How . . .” She shook her head, confused by the revelation. “What do you need me to do?”

“We need a confession from Martha before the magistrate arrives.”

“How?”

This next part hurt him to mention, and would stir sad thoughts in Abigail, too, but it had to be done. “She knew you were in a delicate way. That’s why she’s poisoned your food. To rid your body of the babe. I don’t know what harm it will cause you now that the babe . . .”

Tears welled in her eyes, but they did not fall. Her lower lip trembled. “All this because of an innocent child?”

Her voice cracked, then her eyes slowly narrowed and she looked furious.

He could only nod.

“Is Thomas part of this?”

“I don’t think so. He married Martha when Lydia was still a small child.”

“Get Thomas, Elliott. Make sure he can hear everything. Martha will be in the kitchen, I’m sure. I’ll head there now.”

She turned to pick up her lunch tray and glared at him when he wouldn’t move from the door.

“I understand and feel your anger, but you cannot outright confront her. I can. Move out of my way Elliott. Make sure you are in the kitchen in no more than ten minutes.”

He could see that there was no stopping her. He promised, “I will be there in five. Do not get to close to her, Abigail. I’ll not forgive myself if you are hurt again.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

He moved from the door to let her pass. He stopped her with a gentle touch on her elbow.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Sorry for a great many things. The harm that had befallen her, the loss of the baby, their angry exchange of words that had precipitated her leaving. Everything. He was so sorry for everything. And didn’t know if things could be fixed between them. Didn’t know if they should be fi xed between them.

* * *

Abby couldn’t believe what Elliott had just told her. She was thankful that her anger overrode her desire to curl up into a ball and cry all over again for the loss of the baby.

How could someone do anything so vile?

She pushed her way through the kitchen door. She’d been right, Martha was putting together a feast for the men for luncheon. Would she stoop so low as to poison them, too? Abby didn’t think so.

“Thank you for sending Lydia up with the tray, but I must confess, I’ve been feeling dreadfully ill for days now.”

Martha stared down at the stew.

“It’ll warm you for the long, cold trip home. You don’t known when another hot meal will present itself in your travels.”

“I couldn’t eat a bite. It would make me lose the contents already in my stomach.”

“Is that so.”

“Yes. I’ve been feeling this way for some weeks. I don’t know what the cause could be. No one else is ill, so I doubt it’s catching.”

A creak sounded at the door. Abby knew it was Elliott, giving her a sign that she should draw what ever confession she needed to out of the old woman. She hated to do this to Thomas. He’d been so kind to her. But he had a right to know his wife was a murderer. She’d taken Abby’s baby away from her, and that crime would have her burning in hell for all eternity.

“No, miss. What you got is definitely not catching.”

“How do you know?” she asked innocently.

“Your kind of sickness comes from spreading your legs like a whore and letting a man lie with you.”

The woman had not shared kind words with her in the past, so the choice of insult didn’t shock her. But she gave a surprised gasp with the woman’s pronouncement.

“How dare you call me any such thing.”

“It’s the truth. Now you’ve gone and put a babe in your belly. You should rid yourself of it. It’ll be like its father, and his father before.”

“You mean you didn’t try to rid me of the child already? Dragging me into the sea and trying to end my life wasn’t enough for you?”

“You deserved it, miss. A shame you lived to see another day. I should have held you under the water, and regret not doing so.”

“Lord Brendall will know of your crimes.”

“No, he’ll not.” Martha took a step toward her, picking up a rolling pin in the pro cess. “You were too mouthy when you started. Too pretty and too young to be a governess. Knew it the moment I saw you that you’d be trouble to us and nothing more. But you spread your legs quick enough for the master. You’re a sluttish whore.”

Abby took a step backward. Toward the door. Toward the safety of Elliott’s arms. “Do you plan to bludgeon me to death?”

“If I must. The world needs to be rid of you and the bad seed growing in your belly.”

Abby would not give the woman the satisfaction of knowing the baby was already lost.

“What did Elliott ever do to you?”

“Brought that last whore into the house hold. Doted upon her. Put a baby in her when my daughter is the one who should inherit this castle.”

“Lydia? What has she to do with the master or me?

You’ll not convince me she harbors feelings for Elliott and vice versa.”

“Stupid girl. They are brother and sister.”

Abby took another step back, truly afraid Martha would take a swing at her with the heavy rolling pin.

Her back hit the wall.

“You cannot end my life, Martha. It will not go unnoticed.”

There was a madness in Martha’s eyes that said otherwise. “Yes, I can. You’ll go for another walk into the sea.

I’ll weigh your lifeless body down this time so you can’t rise from the dead. You’re no different than Madeline.

You’ll welcome death when I’m through with you.”

The kitchen door slammed open and Thomas came through, his fists clenched at his side. “Martha?”

Martha dropped the rolling pin and smiled for her husband. “Thomas. You frightened me. I was just about to bring you luncheon, so you didn’t go hungry on your trip to Alnwick.”

“How could you do this to me?” the older man said, his voice full of hurt and betrayal.

Elliott stepped into the room next, his big burly form full of menace and radiating anger like a bee ready to sting.

“You are done, Martha,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Thomas looked his wife over, then turned on his heel and left the room. Abby felt for him. To discover the woman you loved was someone entirely different than you thought would be devastating. Possibly as distressing the moment she realized she’d lost her baby.

“It would do you well to give up now.” Elliott held a piece of rope aloft. “The magistrate arrives soon. You will be taken into custody.”

“I did this for you,” she pleaded.

“No, you did this for your own ends. I can imagine what my father did to make you turn your hatred on me, but it ends here. Turn about. I don’t want to be forced to bind your hands.”

“No one will believe you. The townspeople hate you.

They’ll believe me.”

“That’s why Thomas was here as witness,” he shot back.

“I’m sure you fed them poisoned words over the years to make me seem worse than I really am. Turn about, Martha.” He held out the rope.

Abby took a step forward, intent on taking the rope from Elliott to bind the woman’s hands herself if she must.

The old woman was quick, and backhanded her across the face with so much force she fell to the ground. By the time she could focus her eyes again, Elliott held the woman’s hands tightly behind her back, the rope already wound around her wrists.

Elliott looked at her. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine.” Though the loss of her baby stung all the more.

The magistrate took Bethesda into custody before arriving back at the castle. The witch was currently in transport to Newcastle under indictment for the murder of Elliott’s wife, which she had admitted quite boldly to playing a part in, and the attempted murder of Abby.

The magistrate had brought a strongman with him in the event that any other members of his staff were involved in Martha’s ploys to end the Brendall earldom.

With the sound of the horses, everyone in the house hold had assembled on the drive before the group reached the inner bailey.

Jacob stayed atop Ivan. Pride swelled in Elliott’s chest to see his son thus.

The magistrate held out a parchment and read the words that charged Martha with the crimes of intended murder and attempted murder.

“As confessed by Bethesda of Alnwick, Martha Harrow, you are hereby to be taken into custody for the attempted murder of Lady Abigail Anne Hallaway on the fifth day of November in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred forty-eight. And for the murder of Madeline Harriett Graham-Wright, the sixth Countess of Brendall, on the twenty- fourth day of August, in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred forty- one.”

The man who rode with the magistrate dismounted and led a mule forward for Martha.

“I only did what needed to be done!” Martha took a step back from them and toward the house.

The magistrate looked at Martha, his mustache twitching as he sneered down at her in disgust.

“You will be tried by jury at Moot Hall Prison. Until such a time can be arranged, and until the court can hear your plea, you are to remain in custody of the jurisdiction.”

Thomas sank into the shadows of the great house.

Shock, anger, and confusion mixed in the tight scrunch of his brows. Elliott felt sorry for the man and hoped they didn’t grow to dislike each other. He hoped the old man, at least fifteen years Martha’s senior, stayed on after his wife was taken away.

She, on the other hand, would live out the rest of her days in prison with her aunt.

A jury would not find them innocent of murder. Not when Bethesda had freely admitted to the heinous crime that had been the end of his wife. All he could think was that it would be over soon. That Martha and Bethesda would never see the light of day again without the bonds of the law trapping them.

He felt at peace with his wife’s death for the first time in seven years.

Once the magistrate left, Elliott had sought out Abigail in her bedchamber. Tapping the door lightly, he entered before she could give him permission.

She sniffled into a handkerchief.

“I didn’t mean to intrude, but I thought we should discuss the outcome of the day.”

She turned to him, eyes swollen and red from crying, and cheeks blotchy and damp from tears. Her hand shook around the rag she held tight.

“Are you going to ask me to stay now that the mystery of the ill deeds has been sorted out?”

“I can’t, Abigail.”

It was better for her to leave, he told himself. Losing the baby had taught him that he would do nothing but cause Abigail pain. She didn’t deserve that. She deserved a better life. With a better man.

Now, with the upcoming trial of Martha and Bethesda, he didn’t want her here. She’d be fodder for the gossips.