Chapter Thirteen

“I don’t understand any of this.” Kate sat beside Oliver on the ornate scarlet sofa in Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s office. “Emilia is my dearest friend. How could she turn against me? If I can just talk to her, I’m sure she’ll explain.”

“How long did you know her in Yorkshire?” Oliver asked.

Kate bit her lip. The truth was she’d only known Emilia for seven or eight months. But she’d been so desperate for friends her age and Emilia had been such wonderful company that they’d become instant best friends. And when Emilia had introduced Kate to Theo, her world changed. Finally, she’d met a man—a handsome, kind man—who’d loved her and wanted to marry her. Emilia and Theo had given her a new family.

“Perhaps Middlemarch influenced her thinking?” Kate said, ignoring Oliver’s question. “Where on Earth could she have met him?”

“I don’t know, but I suspect that is why Mrs. Dove-Lyon called us here today She has far-reaching connections, that’s why I asked for her help in this matter.”

“Is that how Middlemarch came to ruin?”

“I imagine she had something to do with it, yes. Don’t tell me you pity him.”

“No,” Kate shook her head. “He got what he deserved.”

“Lord and Lady Knox,” the Black Widow of Whitehall entered the room, wearing her signature black dress and veil that obscured her features. She sat across from Kate and Oliver on one of her plush, scarlet armchairs. A maidservant entered seconds later and placed a silver tea tray on the oval table at the center of the seating area.

“I have done a little sleuthing on our behalf, and I must say I enjoyed it very much,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said.

“Did you manage to uncover anything about Miss Harrington?” Oliver asked.

“Indeed. It seems Miss Harrington, as she is known to you, used to go by the name Fanny Birch.”

Kate inhaled sharply. “What? Do you mean she’s not Theo’s sister?”

“That’s correct. She was born in St. Giles where she worked as a courtesan for a few years. She was popular because of her beauty, and it wasn’t long before a man took her away with him to the continent, but that relationship didn’t last, and she soon found herself destitute in France. There she took up her profession again. And that is where she met your cousin, Mathew Harrington, whom she called ‘Theo’.”

Kate’s mind whirled as she tried to digest Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s words. She had thought Emilia was her best friend but, it turned out, she’d been a complete stranger. Worse, she didn’t know the man with whom she’d fallen in love. Instead, she’d trusted them both, given them her heart and even her body. What a fool she’d been! “Are you saying that Mathew and Emilia were lovers?”

“Precisely.”

Kate put her trembling hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. She shook her head. It’s impossible. All those months the three of us spent together. There was no indication—or perhaps, I was too naive to notice. Dear Lord, how is this possible? Suddenly, it felt as though the world was about to open up under Kate’s feet. She swayed in her chair.

Oliver reached for Kate’s hand, and she seized it. The world immediately righted itself. He was her rock, her solid ground, and her safe place. He’d take care of her, always. She had no doubts about him, and she never would.

“But why did they pretend to be siblings? And why did Emilia introduce me to Theo—Mathew—and encourage our relationship?” Kate managed to say.

“For money, my dear. They didn’t have any, so Mathew needed to marry a woman whose father did have money—someone like you. And if you believed that Emilia was his sister and loved her as one too, she would have been able to live with the two of you. I suspect Mathew would have found excuses to stay away from your bed over time. And the less time he spent in your bed, the more he would have spent in hers. It’s not such an uncommon scheme, I’m afraid.”

Kate’s eyes filled with tears. She hadn’t wanted to believe the horrible things Oliver had told her about Emilia. She was sure there’d be a rational explanation. But now there was no denying it. Theo and Emilia had used her. And, worst of all, she’d been gullible enough to give herself away to a man who’d had no love for her.

“What an utter fool I’ve been.” She buried her face in Oliver’s chest as he put a comforting arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward him.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Mrs. Dove Lyon said. “There’s more to this story.” She paused to pour a cup of tea and Kate steeled herself for more bad news.

“I suspect things didn’t go as planned for Emilia.” The widow picked up her cup. “You see, Mathew wasn’t as disingenuous as you think. Although he initially planned to deceive you into marrying him, he later fell in love with you. And when you told him about the child, he proposed in earnest. This, of course, enraged Emilia—so much so, that she came up with a scheme to murder him.”

“Murder!” Kate jerked her head up. “How?”

“By causing the carriage accident that led to his death.”

“I—I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. Emilia was in the carriage with him. She could have died when the carriage overturned.”

“I don’t believe Emilia was in the carriage at the time of the accident,” Mrs. Dove Lyon said. “The story she told about surviving the accident and being taken in by a farmer and his wife sounded preposterous, at least to me. I made some inquiries, but no one has been able to locate this phantom couple. I propose they don’t exist. And when Lord Knox told me how Emilia put laudanum in your tea, a thought came to my mind. I believe she did the same to Mathew Harrington, giving him a flask of brandy laced with laudanum to enjoy on his journey—the drug would have caused him to become drowsy, resulting in a fatal accident.”

“Good Lord,” Oliver whispered, still clutching Kate’s trembling hand.

“Of course, this is only my theory. We need proof,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said.

“How can we prove it?” Kate asked.

“We can’t, so you’ll need to pry the truth out of Emilia. I suggest you invite her for tea. Send her a note, telling her you miss her, and that you want to hear her side of the story. She’s bound to take the opportunity to try and sway you to her side and turn you against your husband, so I am convinced she’ll accept your invitation. Once you sit down with her, you will put my theory to her, which will enrage her and cause her to throw caution to the wind. When she realizes that she cannot sway you and has lost her control over you, she will want to punish you. And what better way does she have of hurting you by admitting to the truth? She’ll no doubt want to brag about how she outwitted you and Oliver. But what she won’t know is that Lord Knox and Magistrate Thomas will be in the next room, listening to her every word.”

“Magistrate Thomas?” Oliver said. “Can he be trusted to keep our secret?”

The widow put down her cup and, Kate was sure, fixed a stern gaze on Oliver from beneath her veil. “He’s a loyal patron and can be trusted to keep private, sensitive information out of the official report after Emilia is arrested for murder. He won’t breathe a word about your child’s legitimacy, nor will he give Emilia the chance to do so, that I can promise you.”

“She’s on her way up,” Olive said. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Kate nodded. “I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life. I need to know the truth. And if Emilia is guilty, she should pay for her crimes.”

“Very well, then. But remember, Magistrate Thomas and I will be in the adjoining room. We’ll be able to hear every word you say, and if she becomes threatening toward you, we will be by your side in a matter of seconds.”

Kate straightened her shoulders. “I’m ready.”

Oliver kissed her and then left to join the magistrate in the neighboring room.

Seconds later, the butler opened the door to the drawing room and announced, “Miss Emilia Harrington to see Lady Knox.”

“Emilia, come in.” Kate worked hard to sound cheerful and welcoming as she opened her arms to her former friend though her stomach felt sour with disgust. “I’m so pleased you agreed to see me.”

“And I am so pleased you invited me to talk.” Emilia embraced Kate. “I thought you’d abandoned me.”

“Never.” Kate gestured for the woman to sit down. Then she sat across from her and poured her a cup of tea, adding a lump of sugar and a dollop of cream before handing it to her. “I would never abandon you, my dear sister.” Nor would I add laudanum to your cup, though honestly, it would serve you right. Kate pushed the thought away. Now was not the time to let her temper get the better of her, even if her ire was well deserved.

“Thank you.” Emilia smiled sweetly and sipped her tea.

“But I do have a few questions for you,” Kate said. “And I need you to answer me honestly.”

“Or course.”

“I believe it was Middlemarch who tried to turn you against me and Oliver.” She sipped her tea. “None of this is your fault. He is the guilty party. Where did you meet him?”

“After Theo’s death, I found Lord Knox’s letter, naming Mathew—Theo—as his heir, so I came to London in search of him in the hope that he would help the unprotected sister of his deceased heir. I stayed a few nights at an inn in London, and when I went down for dinner one evening, I met Middlemarch. He was drinking and gambling, and when he spotted me alone, he came to talk to me.” Emilia tilted her chin in what Kate knew was false modesty, especially given the woman’s true character. “He wanted to know why such a beautiful and respectable lady was dining alone. I knew he was a gentleman, so I allowed him to dine with me. I thought he might know Lord Knox, so I told him I was a relative of the earls. And that is when he invited me to Lady Ashworth’s ball.”

“But why didn’t you approach me when I saw you at the party? You denied being there. I thought I was going mad.” Again, Kate pushed away the anger boiling in her belly as she remembered the angst she’d endured at the wicked woman’s hand. Remembering that Oliver and the magistrate were listening helped. If she lost her temper, they’d never get the information they needed to make Emilia—Fanny—pay for her crimes.

“I was shocked. I didn’t expect to see you there. Middlemarch had mentioned that Lord Knox was recently married, but I had no idea it was you. I wasn’t ready to face you yet, so I turned and ran away.”

“I don’t believe you,” Kate said. Now . Now is the time. But tread carefully . It occurred to Kate that this woman was adept at scheming and weaving webs to ensnare her victims; now it was her turn.

She reminded herself that the Black Widow, ironically, was on her side, and always had been. Kate didn’t want to let her down. Certainly, she could weave a few traps of her own. But first, she needed to draw Fanny out into the light. “I wish you’d stop lying to me.”

Emilia’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m not lying.”

Kate set her cup down. Be calm. Don’t allow her to escape . “I know that Theo wasn’t your brother, Emilia.” She kept her voice level and serene, even to her own ears. She wasn’t going to give anything away.

Emilia blanched. “What? That’s a lie. Where did you hear that?”

“From Theo,” Kate said, intentionally meeting the woman’s cold eyes with a stony gaze of her own.

“Liar!” Emilia said through gritted teeth.

Kate shrugged and waved her hand dismissively. “He told me everything before he died. He said that your real name is Fanny Birch and that he met you in a brothel in Paris. He loved you once—or he thought he did. Until he met me, of course.” Kate found it easier to lie to Emilia—rather, Fanny —than she’d thought. She was glad to see the woman’s facade crumble, and she wondered if Fanny had enjoyed seeing her fall apart as well. It gave her strength to keep baiting her.

But Fanny only laughed. “You’re lying. Theo didn’t tell you any of that, even though every word of it is true.”

So she admits it and doesn’t deny it. Kate felt a flush of success. She raised a brow. “What do you mean?” Kate asked. “How do you know he didn’t tell me?”

“Because I have the letter he wrote you.”

“What letter?” Kate cocked her head.

“The one he never had a chance to send you. Theo wrote to you confessing everything you just told me.” She reached into her reticule and pulled out a crumpled envelope. “I found it, and that’s when I decided he needed to die.”

Kate reached for the letter, but Fanny held it back out of her grasp. “He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you!” A flash of fury appeared in her icy blue eyes. “That wasn’t part of the plan!”

“What plan?” Kate asked.

“The plan to get your father’s money, you little idiot. It was perfect. I knew from the day I met you—a desperate, lonely young woman who thought she’d die an old maid serving her father—you would have fallen in love with the first man who showed you an ounce of attention.”

Kate flinched. It was true. She’d admitted it to herself already, but that didn’t mean Fanny’s verbal jab missed its mark. She drew herself up. Calm, Kate. Be calm and think of Mrs. Dove-Lyon. She’d never allow herself to crumble when she was working on a snare.

Perhaps that’s why she always wore her veil, Kate realized. If no one could see her face, she didn’t have to work at keeping her expression emotionless. It was more difficult than she’d thought it would be.

“And my Theo, well, he was handsome and charming. I knew it wouldn’t take much for him to convince you to lie with him. Once you were with child, your father would have had no choice but to let you marry, and he’d have had to hand over a large dowry for the sake of his family’s reputation. You’d have been Mrs. Harrington in name only—that was the plan. We’d have your money and each other.” Fanny’s lips curled in a snarl. “But after a while, I saw his attitude toward you change. Suddenly, he talked about having a proper marriage with you and leaving me out in the cold. He’d talk about your little family, and I knew he wanted me gone, so I devised a little plan of my own.”

Kate’s stomach turned. She thought of Middlemarch’s pride, even to his own detriment. He and this woman were birds of a feather. Like him, Fanny would preen herself under praise, and even boast of what she no doubt saw as her accomplishments no matter how evil they were. So Kate tipped her head as if she admired Fanny’s inventiveness. “You weren’t with him in the carriage when it crashed down the ravine, were you?”

Fanny shook her head, a smile appearing on her face. “No.”

“So what did you do? Lace his tea with laudanum as you did mine?”

“Not tea,” she said, still smiling. “It’s too weak to mask the bitterness of laudanum. You complained your tea was bitter, remember? I had to add four lumps of sugar and that still wasn’t enough.” She paused. “But for him, it was simple. I gave him a flask of brandy laced with laudanum. It masked the color of the drug and was strong enough to mask the taste. He drank it and dozed off, which caused his carriage to veer off the road.”

Kate’s eyes burned with tears. There. The confession she’d sought hung in the air. She didn’t have to pretend anymore or hide her true feelings. “You’re evil.”

“He was going to leave me—marry you and kick me out like a dog—after all we’d been through.” She held up the letter. “I suspected he’d been keeping something from me, so I searched his bags, and I found two letters—one from Lord Knox to Theo and another addressed to you.” She held the letter out to Kate, almost tauntingly.

Kate snatched it from the woman’s grip. Surprisingly, Fanny allowed her to unfold it and begin reading silently.

Her head swam. It was all there. The letter confirmed everything Emilia had said. Theo had confessed the truth and pledged his love for her and their child. He intended to talk to her father as soon as he returned from his trip to London, where he was going to meet his sixth cousin, the Earl of Knox.

When your Papa learns that I am to inherit an earldom, he will surely not refuse to let us marry. All will be well in a few days, my love. One day, you will be Lady Knox, the wife of a future earl who adores you.

Yours truly for life,

Theo

A tear leaked from Kate’s eye and rolled down her cheek.

“Don’t cry for him. He doesn’t deserve tears. He thought he was clever, but I was cleverer. I killed him and got away with it,” Fanny boasted. “And now, I’ll kill you and no one will know. I’ll tell Oliver you fell down or fell asleep and never woke up. I haven’t decided yet.” She grinned, her eyes glittering insanely. “And I’ll be here to lift his spirits, and then—in time— I’ll become his wife.”

“No, you won’t.” Both Kate and Emilia turned to see Oliver standing in the doorway with that magistrate. His eyes were fiery as he glared at Kate’s former friend. Or tormentor. At this point, Kate wasn’t sure.

“Oliver!” She leapt to her feet and ran to her husband, longing more than ever for his protective embrace.

“Fanny Birch”—the magistrate strode forward—“you are under arrest for the murder of Mathew James Harrington.” He gripped her by the arm and bodily dragged her to her feet.

Fanny struggled. Her eyes softened, and her tone was wheedling, almost shrill. “No, please. Kate, help me! Don’t let them take me. I beg you! We’re sisters !”

“We were never sisters. I know that now. Would that I had realized it when we first met,” Kate said, looking directly into Emilia’s cold blue eyes. Then she turned to the magistrate. “Get her out of my house. This woman is a liar and a murderer. I never want to see her again.”

The magistrate dragged Fanny away and though they could still hear her protesting shrieks, a peace fell over the room. Oliver drew Kate to him. “Well done, my love. I must confess, I was a bundle of nerves, ready to spring into the drawing room and save you at any moment. But you didn’t need saving. You stayed calm in the face of her anger and tricked her into confessing. Even Magistrate Thomas was impressed.”

“I never want to have to do anything like that again.” Kate buried her head in his chest and breathed her relief as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. It felt as though the weight of an elephant had been lifted off her back.

“And you won’t have to. It’s all over now.” Oliver stroked her hair. “You were so brave. You got justice for Theo. And now, he can rest in peace.”