Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

H anna remained at the breakfast table, absently stroking Ruby as the dog licked her hand, offering silent comfort. She wasn’t afraid of the little dog anymore—Ruby had become a source of solace in these troubled times. She sighed, her fingers gently scratching behind Ruby’s ears.

“I don’t know what to do, Ruby. I have to save Emma, but I don’t want to lie to Edwin.” Her voice faltered, the weight of her dilemma pressing heavily on her heart.

The room felt smaller, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in on her. She pushed her chair back and stood up, the sudden movement causing Ruby to look up at her with wide eyes.

Hanna gave the dog a faint smile before heading for the door. Her steps felt heavier with each passing moment as she walked toward her chamber, her mind a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

Her father’s demands loomed over her like a dark cloud. Spy on Edwin . The words echoed in her mind, sickening her. But how? How was she to spy on her husband? And for what? Her father had been maddeningly vague, and she still didn’t understand what exactly he expected her to find.

The very thought made her stomach churn with unease.

As she ascended the staircase, a knot tightened in her chest. She didn’t want to lie to Edwin, not after how far they had come, not after the warmth she had started to feel toward him.

Edwin was not like her father. He wasn’t cruel or manipulative. Yet, here she was, caught between two men who both, in their own way, wanted her to betray someone.

She reached her chamber, her thoughts a tangled mess, and called for Viola to help her dress. No matter how much her heart rebelled, she knew she had to face her father again. Emma’s future was at stake, and that mattered above all else. If agreeing to spy on Edwin was the only way to stop her father from forcing Emma into a marriage with Lord Whitcombe, then she had no choice.

But how could she possibly balance such duplicity?

Her father’s cruelty had always been a constant in her life, but Edwin’s request had struck deeper than she’d anticipated. Though his reasons were noble—ensuring her father was not playing tricks—he still asked her to go against her family. And now her father was doing the same, asking her to turn on her husband.

She was being pulled in every direction, with no one seeming to care about the effect of those demands on her.

Hanna closed her eyes, her fingers curling into the fabric of her gown. The truth was, she didn’t know how to navigate this web of lies without destroying herself—or those she cared about. But Emma needed her, and she couldn’t afford to waver.

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and stepped away from the window. She would confront her father again, but this time, she wouldn’t simply bend to his will. She would find a way to protect her sister without betraying Edwin, no matter the cost.

The foyer was quiet, almost unnaturally so, as if the house itself anticipated the confrontation to come. A footman greeted her, his eyes slightly wide in surprise, but Hanna dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

“Please inform my father that I wish to speak with him,” she said, her voice stronger than she felt.

As she waited, the moments dragged on, and the stillness around her only heightened the tension coiling in her chest. She tried to calm herself, reminding herself of her purpose: to demand answers, to confront the man who had upended her and Emma’s lives with his machinations.

The footman soon returned and bowed slightly. “His Lordship will see you in his study, Your Grace.”

Hanna nodded, her pulse quickening. As she ascended the stairs, the familiar sense of dread built, her father’s overbearing presence already casting a shadow. When she reached his study, she found him sitting behind the large mahogany desk, his chair angled as though he were a king in his throne room.

He didn’t rise or greet her, just turned his head slightly, a glass of claret in hand, the smell of wine heavy in the air.

“Ah, Hanna,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with contempt. “Come to offer apologies, I presume?”

Her stomach tightened at the sight of him, his casual dismissal of her immediately making her feel smaller than she’d hoped to be at that moment. But she pressed on.

“No, Father, I have come to discuss this matter, not to beg your pardon.”

He sipped from his glass, smirking over the rim. “Do you now?” he drawled, his eyes gleaming with condescension. “You look rather determined. What pressing matter has brought you to my door?”

Hanna took a step forward, her voice steely. “Emma. You threatened to marry her off to Lord Whitcombe. Is this your idea of tightening the screws? To make me do your bidding?”

Her father chuckled, a low, mirthless sound. “Ah, I see you’ve spoken to your sister. Whitcombe may be twice her age, but he’s well-connected, and I have a few debts that I need to pay off. It’s a sound business arrangement.”

“Business?” Hanna felt the heat rising in her chest, anger pushing her forward. “Do not pretend as if it were anything other than you trying to force my hand, Father. You are using this sham marriage proposal to threaten me.”

Her father leaned back, waving the glass in his hand, the liquid sloshing dangerously near the rim. “And what if I am? It brings me no joy, but it seems that simply asking for your help did nothing, so yes. I will use the tools at my disposal.”

“Tools! Is that all we are to you?” she snapped, her fists clenched. “You are playing with our lives and with Emma’s future, as though it were one of your investments. And I will not stand for it any longer.”

He raised an eyebrow, his face darkening slightly. “And what do you plan to do about it?”

Hanna took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I demand to know what it is that you truly want, Father. You asked me to spy on my husband, to betray him. For what?”

“I wish you would not call it spying, Hanna. I merely want to ensure he is not a liar. I want you to keep your eyes and ears open and report back to me.”

“Report on what? Why do you think Edwin has ulterior motives?” she asked, her voice sharper now, her curiosity piqued. “What could he possibly want from you that requires such duplicity?”

Her father’s eyes flickered for a moment, as if he was debating how much to reveal. He reached for the bottle of wine on his desk and, instead of pouring himself a glass, drank directly from it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set the bottle down, a slow, calculated smile spreading across his face.

Her father, a man who prided himself on his composure, seemed rattled by her persistence. His brow furrowed, and after a moment of hesitation, he lifted the glass to his lips, taking a long, deliberate swig of whiskey. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken truths, the only sound being the soft crackling of the fire behind him.

“I’ve had to make decisions in business that… I’m not particularly proud of,” he began, his voice measured but brittle, as if he were choosing his words carefully. His eyes darted to the side, avoiding her gaze. “But that’s the way of the world, Hanna. Business isn’t always neat and tidy. It’s cutthroat, especially when you’re trying to stay ahead.”

Hanna’s heart pounded in her chest as she stepped forward, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “Father, stop skirting the truth. What did you do?”

Her father’s jaw tightened, the weight of his secrets evident in the lines etched on his face. He downed the rest of his wine, the bottle hitting the desk with a dull thud. Then, with a resigned sigh, he met her gaze, his expression hardening.

“It wasn’t Benjamin who was responsible for the mismanagement of the funds,” he admitted, his voice low, but each word seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. “That’s the lie I let everyone believe. The truth is… I was the more active partner.”

Hanna blinked, her breath catching in her throat. “Active partner?”

Her father leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. “Benjamin brought in the investors for the mining business. He had a reputation, a name that inspired trust. But I saw an opportunity to make even more money—money that couldn’t be made in the ‘regular’ way.”

Her stomach churned with dread, but she forced herself to ask, “What do you mean? What opportunity?”

Her father’s lips curled into a bitter smile, and the next words he spoke sent a chill down her spine. “I invested those funds in some rather less reputable establishments. Places where fortunes are made quickly if you know the right people.”

Hanna’s eyes widened, her pulse racing. “Are you talking about the betting houses?” she gasped, horror creeping into her voice. “The gambling dens and—” She hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Flop houses?”

She’d heard all about the investments Benjamin supposedly made, but she had to admit it made far more sense for her father to have been the guilty party.

Her father’s expression didn’t waver. He stared at her with a look of grim acceptance. “Yes, those precisely. Everyone likes to pretend they’re so prim and proper, so virtuous,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “But in truth, everyone wants the same thing—wealth. And the quickest way to have it is by investing in those very places. Money can be made in such enterprises, and I made quite a bit for a while.”

Hanna felt the floor beneath her sway, her hands trembling. “You… you gambled with money entrusted to the both of you? Invested it in those places? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Her father’s face twisted with irritation. “Of course, I know what I’ve done!” he snapped. “I was making a fortune. For a time, everything was going splendidly. But then… the authorities shut it all down.”

Hanna’s mind raced, struggling to comprehend the magnitude of his admission. She had known her father was a man of questionable ethics, but to funnel people’s money into such sordid enterprises—gambling dens, flop houses—was beyond what she could have imagined.

“Father…” A lump formed in her throat. “How could you have been so reckless? So cruel? You destroyed Benjamin’s reputation. You framed him,” she whispered, her voice trembling with shock and fury. “You framed Benjamin, and for what? Because he wouldn’t give you more money to clean up your mess?”

Her father scowled. He got up and started pacing behind his desk, wine bottle in hand. “Don’t be so dramatic, Hanna. I did what needed to be done. When I lost the money, I had no choice. I asked him for a loan, one that I would have repaid, but he refused to help.”

Hanna scoffed, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “I wonder why,” she muttered under her breath, the sarcasm cutting through the tension in the room like a knife.

Her father whirled around, glaring at her. “There’s no need for your insolence. Benjamin was a stubborn fool. If he’d helped me, none of this would have happened.”

Hanna felt anger surge through her, her hands trembling as she clenched them into fists at her sides. “So you… what? Forged documents? Made it look like he was the one responsible for the failed investments? How did you even manage such a thing?”

Her father’s gaze darkened. He lifted the bottle to his lips, and when he realized it was empty, he lowered it to his side. “When you do business in the rookeries, you meet a few people… people who can be useful when the time comes. People who don’t mind getting their hands dirty if it means saving their own necks from the authorities.”

Hanna could hardly believe what she was hearing. The rookeries—the slums, the dens of vice and crime. Her father had entangled himself with criminals, using their skills to forge documents and to ruin a man’s life. She felt sick to her stomach, her mind reeling from the implications.

“Is that what this has all been about?” she demanded, her voice rising with a mix of horror and disbelief. “Is that why you’ve been so desperate for me to spy on Edwin? You’re afraid he suspects the truth. That he knows you framed his brother.”

Her father’s eyes narrowed, but he remained silent.

Hanna’s thoughts raced. Could it be true? Was that what Edwin had been searching for all along? The reason he had asked her to look through her father’s records? Not just to protect his own interests, but to find proof that her father had betrayed his brother?

No. She dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it came.

Edwin wouldn’t do that. He’s not like Father. He would have told me if that were the case. He’s been honest with me from the start.

But still, doubt gnawed at the edges of her mind. Why hadn’t Edwin told her more? Why hadn’t he been more forthright about what he was truly after? And why did this entire situation feel like one long, twisted web of deceit?

Hanna’s voice shook with emotion as she stepped toward her father. “You ruined the reputation of a good man,” she said, her words laced with righteous fury. “Benjamin didn’t deserve this, and I won’t stand for it. I won’t be a part of your lies, Father.”

Her father’s expression hardened, and he set the empty bottle down on his desk with a heavy thud. “You will stand for it, Hanna, unless you want to see your sister married off to Lord Whitcombe,” he threatened. “I’ve tightened the screws on that arrangement, and you know as well as I do that Emma doesn’t have a choice. Not unless you do what I’ve asked.”

Hanna’s breath caught in her throat. He was using Emma as a pawn, a bargaining chip to force her hand. Her sister’s future, her happiness, was being dangled in front of her like bait. She clenched her fists, trying to control the surge of helplessness rising within her.

But she refused to back down. She had to find a way out of this, for Emma, for herself. Her father couldn’t be allowed to continue ruining lives for his own gain.

“I’ll tell Edwin everything,” she said, her voice low but resolute. “I’ll tell him what you’ve done. You can’t manipulate me into betraying him, not after what I’ve learned.”

Her father’s face darkened with anger, and he stepped toward her, his voice dripping with menace. “Think carefully before you do that,” he warned. “What do you think your husband will say when he finds out that his own wife’s father is responsible for his brother’s downfall? For Benjamin’s death?”

Hanna felt the world tilt around her, her father’s words piercing her heart like shards of ice. Her father—her own father—had not only betrayed Benjamin but had killed him. The weight of the revelation pressed on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

She sat down slowly, her legs trembling, her eyes wide as she stared at him in disbelief. “Y-you had him killed?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, her throat constricting with shock and terror. “Father, how could you? How could you do such a thing?”

Lord Worcester leaned back in his chair, a cruel, satisfied grin spreading across his face. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, the amber liquid catching the light as though they were having the most casual of conversations.

“Benjamin thought he could ruin me. He was arrogant, just like your husband. But he underestimated me, just like Edwin is doing now. I couldn’t let him destroy everything I’ve worked for. So yes, I had him killed.”

He said it so simply as if it were a business decision, not the murder of an innocent man. However, he did not look her in the eyes as he said it, as if he could not bear the shame of his actions.

Hanna’s stomach twisted, bile rising in the back of her throat. She could hardly believe the monster sitting in front of her was the same man who had once bounced her on his knee, who had once laughed and told her stories. He had always been a cruel man, distant, a drunk. But this… this was something else. This was pure evil.

“You… you can’t mean that,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You can’t truly mean you would kill Edwin, too.”

Lord Worcester’s smile widened, something sinister flickering in his eyes. “Oh, but I do, my dear. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect myself. And if you don’t stop him from snooping, from digging into things that don’t concern him, Edwin will meet the same fate as his brother.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “And after he’s gone, Emma will marry Whitcombe. And you? You’ll be back in my house, under my control. But you’ll have your jointure, of course. A tidy sum to keep things comfortable for both of us.”

Hanna’s heart raced, her mind reeling as she tried to make sense of it all. Was this man really her father? This cold, heartless creature who would kill to protect himself, to save a crumbling empire built on deceit and blood? She had always known he was ruthless in business, willing to cut corners and manipulate others, but to commit murder… to threaten her husband…

The room seemed to spin around her, and she pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing. No. No, this can’t be real. He’s bluffing. He must be.

But the way he spoke, the gleam in his eyes, the easy cruelty in his tone—it all told her that he was not bluffing. He would do it. He would kill Edwin without a second thought, and then he would take everything from her, from Emma—from them all.

Tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, refusing to let them fall. She couldn’t afford to show weakness, not now. Not in front of him. She had to think, had to find a way out of this.

But how? How could she stop Edwin from investigating without betraying him? How could she protect him without playing into her father’s hands?

Her father watched her with cold satisfaction, knowing he had trapped her. He had given her an impossible choice. If she didn’t stop Edwin, he would die. If she did, she would lose him forever. And worse, she would be complicit in her father’s schemes, a pawn in his twisted game of power and control.

“Tell me,” Hanna said, her voice hoarse, her throat tight with the weight of resignation. “What do you want me to do?”

The words tasted bitter on her tongue, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t let Edwin die. She couldn’t.

Her father’s grin widened, victory gleaming in his eyes. “I knew you’d come around, my girl.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “It’s quite simple, really. You’ll continue what you’ve been doing—keeping an eye on your husband. But this time, you’ll make sure he finds nothing. You’ll steer him away from anything that might lead him back to me. Feed him false information if you have to, throw him off the scent. Whatever it takes to stop him from discovering the truth. In addition,” he said as he pulled open a drawer and withdrew a pile of folded letters. “You will give him these.”

“Letters?”

“Indeed, letters from his brother to me, admitting everything,” he said with a sly smile.

“I do not understand. You said you…”

“Do not be such a goosecap, Hanna. They are not real. They are forgeries, put together out of letters Benjamin actually sent me. But they should convince your husband that Benjamin was at fault, and it might just be enough to make him stop.” He pushed them toward her. “Give them to him. Tell him you found them by accident.” He shrugged.

Hanna felt a cold weight settle in her stomach, the full horror of what her father was asking sinking in. He wanted her to betray Edwin, to sabotage his quest for justice, to protect the man responsible for Benjamin’s death.

“And if I don’t?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her father’s eyes gleamed darkly, his smile never faltering. “Then Edwin will meet the same end as his brother. And you’ll be left with nothing, except perhaps the guilt of knowing you could have stopped it.”

Hanna’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind spinning with fear and confusion. She was trapped, caught between the love she had begun to feel for Edwin and the monstrous demands of her father.

How could she betray her husband? How could she live with herself if she did? But how could she allow Edwin to die?

Tears blurred her vision as she struggled to breathe, her chest tight with anguish. There was no way out, no easy answer. She had to protect Edwin, but at what cost? Would he ever forgive her for this? Could she ever forgive herself?

“I—” Her voice cracked, and she forced herself to speak, though every word felt like a betrayal of everything she held dear. “I’ll do it. I’ll give him the letters and I’ll stop him.”

Her father’s smile widened, and he sat back in his chair, satisfied. “Good girl. I knew you were smart enough to see reason.”

Hanna nodded numbly, her mind already swirling with guilt and dread. She had just made a pact with the devil, and the price was her soul.