Chapter 22

William was resting in his room, attempting to find some semblance of peace after the tumultuous events of the past days. His thoughts were a maelstrom of worry and guilt when suddenly, the quiet was shattered by the sound of shouting in the hall. He recognized the voice—it was Mr. Hancock, his typically unflappable steward. William had never heard Mr. Hancock raise his voice in his life.

Alarmed, William threw aside the book he had been pretending to read and rushed to the door. As he stepped into the corridor, Mr. Hancock came barreling towards him, his usually composed face twisted with panic.

"Mr. Hancock, what on earth is—" William started, but his steward cut him off, breathless and frantic.

"There is no time to explain, Your Grace! It is Rose! Mr. Trent has her by the waterfall! He has a knife!"

William's blood ran cold. The words settled with a chilling clarity. "What? How do you know this?" he demanded.

"We need to go now, Your Grace!" Mr. Hancock insisted. "I'll tell you everything on the way, please!"

William didn't need to hear any more. Without another word, he bolted down the hallway, Mr. Hancock struggling to keep up with his long strides. They raced through the manor and out into the grounds, the urgency of their mission lending them speed. The waterfall wasn't too far away, but William didn't want to waste any time walking. Instead, they mounted two horses and headed in the direction of the waterfall.

"Two maids were on their way to the mansion," Mr. Hancock explained. "Their path leads right by the waterfall, where they heard commotion. They hid in the bushes to see what was going on, but they dared not do anything. Instead, they rushed to the mansion and told me everything."

"It is good they didn't show themselves," William nodded, as they urged their horses on. Although the waterfall wasn't far away, to William it felt like an eternity. "But are you sure it is Stephen?" He couldn't believe it.

"They said the man who came to visit you, Your Grace," Mr. Hancock explained. "There was no one else."

William nodded silently. Mr. Hancock was right. As they neared the waterfall, the sound of rushing water merged with the distant sound of shouts and voices. William's heart pounded as they burst through the tree line to the clearing where they all stood.

Mr. Trent stood near the edge of the pool, a wild look in his eyes and a knife glinting in his hand. He was on the rocks at the edge of the waterfall, holding that very knife to Rose's throat. Henry was shouting at the man, his face twisted with panic. "Let her go! Let her go!" But William could see that Stephen had no intention of doing that.

William could feel little droplets of rain on his forehead. He knew that would make the ground beneath their feet even more slippery, and Rose was already dangerously close to the edge. The waterfall wasn't tall, but the bottom was littered with large, jagged rocks. A fall from that height could be deadly. The thought filled William with dread.

That was when Stephen noticed William's arrival. Mr. Hancock followed immediately behind. Stephen's head snapped up at the sound of their arrival, surprise flashing across his face. His grip on Rose immediately tightened. William could see fear in her beautiful eyes, but also bravery and determination. He was certain that she gave them hell while they brought her there.

"Please, save my sister!" Henry was the one who broke the enchantment of silence that was keeping everyone bound. "I never meant for any of this to happen, I swear!" Henry's tearful voice touched William.

He dismounted his horse quickly, taking a cautious step closer to Stephen. He was still addressing Henry as he did so. "Step aside, Henry. Everything is going to be all right." He hastily gestured to Mr. Hancock to take the boy and keep him by his side. The wise steward immediately understood what was required of him.

"There you go again, telling lies, Will," Stephen snickered, hiding himself behind Rose, the twinkle of the blade dangerously close to her throat. "You don't know that everything will be all right. You can't know that."

William swallowed heavily, lifting his hands with his palms facing Stephen in a gesture of surrender. "I don't know what this is about, Stephen, but I do know that we can talk about it and deal with whatever it is that is troubling you."

"Troubling me?" Stephen echoed angrily, and William knew that he had to tread even more carefully. "You are the one who's been troubling me all this time. You!"

William could feel his hands trembling in the air, and he did his best to try and calm himself down. "If I am the one to blame here, please let Rose go. She has nothing to do with this."

Stephen shook his head, his wicked grin appearing from behind Rose's head. "I wasn't planning to have you witness any of this, but now that you are, I see it is even better this way. Now, it is your turn to lose what matters the most to you."

"My turn?" William frowned. "What do you mean?"

Stephen shook his head disapprovingly. Yet, William could see a flicker of something else in the man whom he once considered a friend. A flicker of… sorrow? Grief? Regret? There was more than pure malice.

"Of course you don't know," Stephen scoffed. "How could you? You never asked. You never cared about what happened to any of us after France."

William understood. He took a step closer to Stephen and Rose, and it seemed that Stephen didn't notice it.

"I am sorry you got captured in France," William said gravely. "If that is what you are talking about." Stephen didn't respond immediately, so William took it as an opportunity to continue. "You are right. I have been a poor friend. I… I got lost in my own grief, mourning my father and brother. I forgot about everything and everyone else. I know that is no excuse, but this…" he gestured at Stephen and Rose, "this isn't the solution, either. I am the one you want."

Stephen sighed, shaking his head again. "If only things were that simple. Hurting you physically would bring me no pleasure or comfort. Besides, you don't even know why I am doing this, do you?"

"Tell me," William pleaded. "Help me understand."

Stephen hesitated for the first time since William arrived. It was almost as if he regretted being there, with a hand holding a knife pressed to the throat of an innocent girl. But rage took over immediately and his nostrils flared up as he spoke.

"You don't understand, William," Stephen spoke coldly, "I wasn't just captured. I was captured by mistake. The real target was you… the son of the Duke of Montford."

William gasped silently. He didn't know what to say to that. Not in a million years was he expecting to hear that. He listened to Stephen's explanation silently, at the same time keeping a close eye on Rose. He knew that if an opportunity presented itself to get her away from him, William had to be ready. He had to act swiftly.

"I don't know how the enemy found out that you were the son of a duke. Maybe the other captives gave up that information. I don't know. It doesn't matter," Stephen continued. "But they planned on capturing you and instead, they caught me."

"But… how?" William asked incredulously.

Stephen was now fuming, remembering the past with all the pain and anguish it brought back with it. "You left mere hours earlier to return to England, and I was assigned to watch where you should have been. They beat me unconscious, and then they captured me. It took months for a prisoner swap to be arranged, because obviously, I am not the son of a duke. I wasn't nearly as valuable to anyone." He paused, inhaling deeply. William could see how hurt his friend was, but what was worse, there was nothing William could do but listen.

Then Stephen continued. "I spent six months and fifteen days in that hellhole, William. I barely saw the sun. They kept me alive on moldy bread and water that tasted like piss! When I was finally allowed to return home, I found out that my fiancée had left me for another man, thinking I was dead.

I lost the love of my life. I was tortured and barely survived an ordeal that was meant for you! Not me! And you didn't even think of me for even a second. You didn't bother yourself with a single letter to see if I had made it back, if any of us had made it back."

William swallowed heavily. Stephen was right about everything. William was so lost in his own grief, that he had forgotten about those who were by his side in the most difficult of moments. He ought to have written. He ought to have done many things which he had not, and now, it was too late.

"When I came to see you, I didn't plan any of this," Stephen suddenly spoke more softly, as if a flicker of humanity appeared in him. "I was furious with you, but I had convinced myself that there was a reason you never reached out. There had to be, because you were a good man, Will. I always thought that. And I believed that something must have prevented you from inquiring about me or any of us, perhaps an illness, something… anything. Then, I came to visit you and… I saw that you were doing fine. Better than fine. You had everything within grasp. Money, power, and… love."

Stephen looked down at Rose who trembled in his grasp.

"Rose is not to blame for anything, Stephen, please!" William pleaded desperately.

Stephen directed his glance at William. "That is what I told the French. I am not to blame for anything. I am not the duke's son. But they didn't care. And now, I don't care. I have vowed to ruin your life the way you ruined mine, piece by piece. I heard the boys in the village talk about rooting out the monster of the manor, and it made everything so easy. I used them to do as much damage as they could. And then, I noticed how Rose and you were looking at each other, and I knew. It was the perfect chance for revenge. At first, I tried scaring Rose away, so she would leave you of her own free will, but I could see how much she cared about you. Losing her forever would break you. So now, it is your turn to lose everything, Will."

"No, Stephen, you don't understand," William pleaded desperately. "I only left because of the extent of my injuries. The army decided that I was no longer fit to serve at the time. I never wanted to leave like that, without a word, to abandon my friends, those who had been by my side in the direst of circumstances."

"If that is true, why didn't you write? A single letter, Will, that is all it would have taken!" Stephen shouted angrily.

"When I came back, I found out that my father and brother died. Their carriage was attacked by bandits, intending to rob them, but then it all went wrong. I came back a scarred man, only to bury the only family I had left. I was devastated, Stephen. Just like you, I lost everything. I am so sorry you had to go through all of that. I truly am. I know how that feels, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

But his words didn't touch Stephen at all. His eyes burned with hatred aimed at William, as he exclaimed. "No, Will. You haven't felt anything yet. But you will!"