Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Catherine’s feet ached as she made her way through the forest close to town, the setting sun casting long shadows across her path. She did not much like walking through there—but she had no choice. It was the only way of going to interview upon interview undetected.

Her mind whirled with the information she had gleaned from her latest interview with a former Wessex Manor staff member. The elderly gardener had spoken of strange comings and goings, of whispered conversations between Samuel Harper and a cloaked figure in the weeks leading up to the Montagues’ deaths.

There must be something she was missing, she thought as she pushed a low-hanging branch out of her way. Something that was hidden in plain sight.

Why was Samuel Harper so intent on hurting the family that employed him?

The forest seemed to close in around her, the trees looming larger in the fading light.

A twig snapped behind her. Catherine froze, her heart suddenly racing. The sound of her own breathing seemed deafening in the sudden silence. Slowly, she turned to look over her shoulder.

A hooded figure stood about twenty paces away, half-hidden behind a large oak tree. As Catherine watched, the figure took a step forward, leaves crunching underfoot.

Panic surged through her veins. Without thinking, Catherine veered off the path, plunging deeper into the woods. The sound of pursuit followed close behind, branches snapping and undergrowth rustling.

“Help!” she cried out, though she knew it was futile. They were too far from any habitation for her voice to carry. The word echoed mockingly through the trees.

Catherine ran blindly, branches whipping at her face and arms as she tore through the underbrush. Her lungs burned, and her legs felt like lead, but fear propelled her forward. She could hear the pursuer gaining ground, their footsteps growing louder.

“Stay away!” she shouted over her shoulder, her voice cracking with terror.

The footsteps behind her grew closer. Catherine risked a glance over her shoulder and saw the hooded figure gaining on her, a dark shadow against the twilight forest. In that moment of distraction, her foot caught on a tree root, sending her sprawling to the forest floor.

Catherine hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of her. She scrambled to her hands and knees, desperately trying to regain her footing. But before she could stand, a strong hand grasped her elbow, roughly pulling her up and spinning her around.

Catherine’s scream died in her throat as the figure’s hood fell back, revealing a face she knew all too well. Samuel Harper stood before her, his face flushed from the chase, his eyes wild with an emotion Catherine couldn’t quite place. He had followed her all along, she realized, the fear taking hold of her in an almost choking fashion.

He knew all along what she’d been busy with.

“Mr. Harper,” she gasped, terror flooding her body. This was it. She had pushed too far, and now she would pay the price. Just like Lord and Lady Wessex.

But to Catherine’s shock, Mr. Harper’s face was twisted not with rage, but with desperation. “Miss Winslow,” he panted, his grip on her arm loosening slightly. “Please... I need your help.”

Catherine stared at him, uncomprehending. Her mind reeled, unable to reconcile the menacing figure that had chased her through the forest with the man now standing before her, looking lost and afraid.

“You need… my help?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “But... I don’t understand. I thought...”

“You thought I was going to kill you,” Mr. Harper finished for her, his voice bitter. “Just like I killed Lord and Lady Wessex. Isn’t that right?”

Mutely, Catherine nodded, still too stunned to form words. Her heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

Mr. Harper released her arm entirely, taking a step back. He seemed to deflate before her eyes, his shoulders sagging with the weight of some unseen burden. “I didn’t kill them,” he said softly, his eyes fixed on the forest floor. “But I might as well have. I let the killers in.”

Catherine’s mind reeled. She took an instinctive step back, leaves crunching under her feet. “What? But why? Why would you...”

“Because I was a fool,” Mr. Harper spat, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “A fool in love with a woman who cared for nothing but power and wealth.”

Slowly, the pieces began to fall into place in Catherine’s mind. Suddenly the conversation she had seen by the carriage came rushing back to her. “Lady Isabella,” she breathed, the name leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. “It was her, wasn’t it?”

Mr. Harper nodded, his eyes haunted. In the fading light, he looked older, more haggard than Catherine had ever seen him. “She came up with the plan. Said it was the only way we could be together. I... I was blinded by my feelings for her. I didn’t realize the monster she truly was until it was too late.”

Catherine’s mind was spinning, trying to process this new information. Part of her wanted to run, to get as far away from Mr. Harper as possible. But a larger part, the part that had driven her investigation this far, needed to know more.

“Tell me everything,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

Mr. Harper looked around nervously, as if expecting Isabella to materialize from the shadows. “Not here,” he said. “It’s not safe. Follow me.”

He led Catherine deeper into the forest, to a small clearing where a fallen log provided a makeshift seat. As they settled onto the log, Mr. Harper began his tale, his voice low and pained.

“It started when Lord Wessex began courting Isabella,” he began. “I had been... infatuated with her for some time. To my shock and delight, she seemed to return my affections. We became lovers in secret.”

Catherine felt her cheeks flush at this revelation, but she remained silent, letting Mr. Harper continue his story.

“Isabella was ambitious. She saw Lord Wessex as her ticket to wealth and status. But she didn’t want to wait. She came up with a plan—a horrible, unthinkable plan. We would arrange for Lord and Lady Wessex to be killed. With them gone, Lord Wessex would inherit everything immediately. Isabella believed this would push him to marry sooner rather than later.”

At this, Mr. Harper’s voice broke. He took a shuddering breath before continuing. “The plan was for Isabella to get with child—either by me or by Lord Wessex, it didn’t matter to her. Once a male heir was confirmed, Lord Wessex would meet with an unfortunate ’accident’ as well. Isabella would be left as the grieving widow, with a fortune at her disposal and me as her secret lover.”

Catherine felt sick. The brutality of the plan, the cold calculation behind it, was almost more than she could bear. “And you agreed to this?” she asked, unable to keep the disgust from her voice.

Mr. Harper shook his head vehemently. “No! Well... not exactly. I didn’t want anyone to die. But Isabella... she has a way of twisting things, of making the most horrific acts seem reasonable. She convinced me that it was the only way for us to be together.”

“What do you mean?” Catherine asked, frowning.

“Isabella’s family, while respectable, isn’t as wealthy or well-connected as they pretend to be,” Mr. Harper explained. “She was desperate to secure her position in society. And she saw Lord Wessex as her meal ticket.”

Catherine’s mind was spinning, trying to reconcile this new information with the poised, confident Isabella she had met at the ball. “But... if you didn’t kill Lord and Lady Wessex, who did?”

Mr. Harper’s face contorted with shame. “Isabella hired men—cutthroats from London. My role was simply to let them into the house, to disable the locks. I told myself I wasn’t really responsible, that I wasn’t the one wielding the knife. But...”

“You were complicit,” Catherine finished for him, her voice hard.

He nodded, his face a mask of misery. “Yes. And I’ve lived with that guilt every day since. I stayed at Wessex Manor, partly out of cowardice—I was afraid to leave, afraid Isabella would have me killed if I tried to run. But also... I felt I owed it to the family. To try and protect Lord Wessex and Lady Emily as best I could.”

Catherine’s brow furrowed. “Protect them? From what?”

“From Isabella,” he said grimly. “She’s never given up on her plan. She’s just... adapted it.”

A chill ran down Catherine’s spine. “What do you mean?”

Mr. Harper’s eyes met hers, and a deep blush rose to his cheeks as he spoke, his voice regretful. “Isabella has changed her plan. She wants Emily gone now, too.”

Though she was not wholly surprised, Catherine felt her heart clench at the confirmation of what she had expected. “Emily? But why? She’s just a child!”

“She’s not a child anymore,” Mr. Harper corrected, his voice heavy with regret. “That’s the problem. Before, Emily was young, hardly a threat to Isabella’s ambitions. But now... now she’s a young woman. Isabella realized at the Midsummer Ball that Emily has grown up. She saw her dancing with young men, saw how she’s blossoming into a beautiful young lady.”

Understanding dawned on Catherine, horror flooding through her. “And any match Emily might make, any children she might have...”

“Would stand in the way of Isabella and I acquiring Lord Wessex’s fortune,” he finished. “Exactly. Isabella has realized she wasted too much time waiting for Lord Wessex to come back to social life. She wants to accelerate the plan now.”

Catherine felt her knees go weak. She leaned heavily against the log, her mind reeling with the implications of what he was telling her. “So what is her plan?”

Mr. Harper’s voice was low and urgent as he continued. “She wants to marry Lord Wessex as soon as possible. She’ll maintain the charade until she births a male child. Then... then she plans to murder both Lord Wessex and Lady Emily in a staged robbery, just like their parents.”

“No,” Catherine breathed, horror flooding through her. The thought of Edward and Emily, both so dear to her, falling victim to Isabella’s cruel plan was unbearable. “We cannot let that happen. We have to stop her!”

Mr. Harper nodded, his face grim. “That’s why I’ve come to you, Miss Winslow. I... I can’t live with this secret any longer. Allowing the murder of Lord and Lady Wessex was bad enough, but Emily... I’ve watched her grow up. I’ve seen her pure heart, her sharp mind. Killing her is a step too far. I’m ready to face the consequences of my actions, if it means saving her life.”

Catherine studied his face, searching for any sign of deception. All she saw was genuine remorse and fear. “Why now?” she asked. “Why come to me?”

“Because you care for them,” he said simply. “Lord Wessex and Lady Emily. I’ve seen it. And... and I think Lord Wessex cares for you too. More than he’s willing to admit, perhaps even to himself.”

Catherine felt her cheeks flush at this, but she pushed the feeling aside. There were more important matters at hand. “What can we do? We need proof. No one will believe us otherwise.”

Mr. Harper reached into his coat and pulled out a small packet of letters. “These are from Isabella. They detail her plans, her instructions to me. I’ve kept them all these years, as... insurance, I suppose. I thought if she ever turned on me, I could use them to protect myself. But now... now I see they’re worth far more as a means of protecting Lady Emily.”

Catherine took the letters with trembling hands, the weight of their contents feeling far heavier than the paper itself. “This is... this is incredible. But Mr. Harper, you realize what this means? You’ll be implicated too. You could hang for your part in this.”

Mr. Harper nodded solemnly, his face set in grim determination. “I know. And I’m prepared to face that. What I did... what I allowed to happen... it’s unforgivable. But if I can save Lady Emily, if I can prevent any more bloodshed, then perhaps I can die with some measure of peace.”

As the full weight of his confession settled over them, the forest around them grew darker. The chirping of birds gave way to the eerie hooting of owls and the rustling of nocturnal creatures. Catherine felt as though she were standing on the edge of a precipice, the fate of those she cared about hanging in the balance.

“What do we do now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Samuel Harper’s eyes met hers slowly, the fear evident in his gaze. “We go to Lord Wessex. We tell him everything. And then... then we face whatever comes next.” Despite the fear in his eyes, his voice was surprisingly steady.

As they rose to leave the clearing, Catherine couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. The truth had finally come to light, but at what cost? And how would Edward react when he learned of the betrayal that had shattered his family?

With heavy hearts and minds full of uncertainties, Catherine and Samuel Harper made their way out of the darkening forest, ready to face the reckoning that awaited them at Wessex Manor.