The Last Duchess (The Lennox Series)(127)
Michael thought of his poor, mad papa, wandering the halls at Eastchase, imagining his wife was still with him. “Do you think Mrs. Pool also killed Radcliffe?”
The old woman shook her head. “I believe the vicar discovered his wife’s betrayal and he killed him. Of course I had no way to prove it, and who would believe me? He’s so pious and none suspect his evil heart. When Miss Bella first came to me, I thought to tell you of what went on, even considered alerting the constable, but she begged me not to, insisted her father would kill her. Her mother took her own life, but I wondered if she had discovered what her husband was doing to Bella, threatened to expose his perfidy, and he killed her to keep his secret.”
Had she not tried to kill Jane, were she not responsible for the deaths of three innocent women and the babes they carried, he would have felt a great deal of sympathy for Miss Bella. As it was, while he hated what her life had been, he harbored great rage toward her.
He held a far greater rage toward her father, however, and as soon as he and the constable arrived, he went down to the library to meet with them, leaving Rose and Mrs. Dashing to keep watch over Jane. He asked Dora to accompany him, to bear witness to what she knew, and she agreed, saying, “Too long has he been allowed to terrorize his family, and I pray he’ll pay for his wrongs.”
Michael intended to do much more than pray. He was brief and succinct when he spoke to the constable, then turned to the vicar. “I can’t fathom what goes through a mind like yours, and thank God I cannot, for surely you are eaten alive by the worms of depravity and evil. I will see you hang, Mr. Pool.”
Incredibly, the man looked insulted. “I’ve done nothing wrong, nothing to be ashamed of. Bella was a homely, plain girl who could never attract a husband. I merely stepped in to comfort her in her loneliness, as any good father should do.”
Michael narrowed his eyes in disgust. “You’re a disgrace to fathers everywhere and a blight on humanity.” Turning, he left the constable to arrest Mr. Pool and strode to the stairs, climbing them two at a time.
Jane drifted in and out of consciousness all the rest of the day and late into the night. He wouldn’t leave her side. Sometime after midnight, she roused up and appeared coherent, her face wan, her hand shaking as she reached for his. “I’ve not died,” she whispered. “I was certain I would, and it made me so angry.”
He rose from his chair, bent to the bed and slid his arms about her to hold her gently. “I have prayed much, and promised many things to God. I shall have to leave you and become a monk and bring peace to the world in order to fulfill all of my promises.”
She began to cry, softly, brokenly. “I thought I had conceived, but wanted to be sure before I told you, and now . . .” She clutched him tightly. “As sorrowful as I am at the loss, I have to thank God I’m alive to try again. Oh, Blix, poor Annabel. I’ve dreamed of her, over and over, in this very bed, crying and . . . and screaming, in so much pain, and all because of a madwoman. I was there, in the drawing room, when we had tea, when Annabel drank it, not knowing it would kill her. If only I’d seen what Miss Bella was about, if only . . . my heart is broken, truly, at the senselessness of it all.”
He debated telling her what he’d learned, and decided it should wait. “Hush, love, you couldn’t have known, couldn’t have prevented it. Annabel is with God now, and she knows, she understands.”
That appeared to soothe her and her desperate grasp about his neck eased. “Miss Bella, is she—”
“Yes, love, she’s gone. You saved my life.”
Her arms tightened about him again and she whispered, “God forgive me, but I can’t be sorry she’s dead. I have only to remember her wild eyes, that knife in her hand, and you, so close . . .” She began to cry again.
“It’s over now, Jane, and all will be well. Rest and regain your strength. We’ll talk later, when you’re better.”
“Yes, Michael. I wonder . . . might I rinse my mouth? The taste is truly horrid.”
He set about bringing her the rinse, and the washbowl from her dressing room. When she was done he removed it and sat again on the chair at her bedside, to watch her sleep. She was more restful, her body relaxed and still, instead of tense and fretful, as she’d been since the afternoon. She was safe, she would live, and someday, with an excellent chance of surviving the experience, she would bring a child into the world. The realization brought tears of gratitude to his eyes. There, in the quiet of the chamber, with only the soft sound of her even breaths breaking the stillness, he allowed himself to cry, and sent silent prayers of thanksgiving to God for bringing Jane into his life. He allowed himself to cry for the lost lives of three innocent souls and the babes gone with them. And perhaps some of his tears were for his mother and his mad papa.