In the Shadow of Lakecrest(78)

No one else made a sound.

Matthew and Gerta half carried and half dragged me into the house and up the front stairs. When we reached my bedroom—my cell!—I clutched at Matthew and pleaded with him to take me away, but my words were slurred and jumbled, and he simply looked ahead, his face pale. Gerta pulled off my robe and laid me back in bed. I saw Hannah at the bedside, watching. As always.

“No!” I shouted. “Matthew, please! Get her out!”

Matthew looked from me to his mother. Bewildered. “What should I do?” he asked. I couldn’t tell whom he was speaking to.

“You shouldn’t see her like this,” Hannah said. “Go call the doctor. Tell him it’s almost time.”

“Don’t leave me alone with her,” I cried. “She wants to kill me!”

I couldn’t have chosen worse words to evoke sympathy. Matthew looked furious.

“Don’t worry,” Hannah told him, infuriatingly calm. “Women say all sorts of nonsense during childbirth.”

Matthew stomped off, and any hope for escape left along with him. My arms and legs were quivering, and my nightgown was damp with sweat. Hannah’s face sagged, her usual self-satisfied smirk replaced by a wistful sadness.

“Do you really think I’d hurt you?” she asked.

I didn’t answer. Are executioners ever moved by last-minute pleas?

“Of course you don’t trust me,” Hannah said. “I haven’t earned it.” With a weary sigh, she sat down in Matthew’s armchair. “We have a little while before the doctor arrives. I’ll tell you everything. An offering, if you will. You wonder if I killed Cecily, don’t you? I suppose the answer is yes. I did.”





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


“I can’t blame you for being suspicious,” Hannah began. “All I ask is that you hear me out. Give me a chance, just as I gave you.”

She leaned over to fluff up my pillow. “That’s better, isn’t it? Honestly, you needn’t look so scared. You’ve heard too many stories—that’s the problem. Told a few yourself, haven’t you, Kate?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re such a smart girl—I can’t believe you never guessed I’ve known all about you from the start. As soon as Matthew told me about the charming young governess he’d met on the boat, I called Mr. Haveleck. Yes, the very same; he’s worked for Lemont Industries for years. He went to Ohio to investigate you, and even I was surprised by the depravity he found. Your drunk of a father wasn’t much of a surprise, given your heritage. A taste for alcohol is a common weakness among the Irish, isn’t it? I could even forgive your mother her murderous outburst, given her treatment at his hands. However, the line of work she chose afterward? That was a shock.”

All this time, Hannah knew.

“I was quite prepared to put a stop to your romance with Matthew after reading Mr. Haveleck’s first report,” Hannah said with a condescending smile. “Then he wrote a second letter, and that one gave me pause. He started with a glowing account of your aunt, Nellie—very respectable, in excellent health, the mother of four thriving children. He’d spoken to another woman as well, the housemother at your college dormitory. What was her name?”

“Mrs. Llewellyn,” I whispered.

“Ah, yes. She was particularly helpful and quite effusive in her praise of you. She told Mr. Haveleck a very interesting story about a certain young man.”

I couldn’t stop the mortified flush that rose up every time I thought of Randall. How could Mrs. Llewellyn have betrayed my trust? Was anyone immune to the Lemonts’ money? The muscles of my stomach tightened, and I took quick, shallow breaths, trying to present Hannah with a blank, unconcerned expression.

“Kate, Kate,” Hannah murmured. “I don’t care what happened; I truly don’t. What struck me was how you handled yourself. What might have been a disastrous incident was hushed up with no damage to anyone’s reputation, thanks to your quick thinking. Not many girls your age would have known what to do. I was quite impressed.

“The boy’s name was Bigelow, wasn’t it? It’s a curious thing—I found out not long after that his father had mortgaged their hotels to the hilt. Made a terrible mess of the family’s finances. It’s shocking, the mistakes people make when they get greedy. I had a word with the Palmers about it—they didn’t make the Palmer House into one of the world’s finest hotels without knowing the business inside and out—and wouldn’t you know? They decided to branch out to Ohio. They say Mr. Bigelow was so desperate he sold at a loss. Shipped his son off to South America. He’d become a bit of an embarrassment, it seems.”

For years, I’d wondered what I’d do if I ran into Randall, whether I’d be able to look into his arrogant eyes and pretend I didn’t care what happened. Now, thanks to Hannah, I wouldn’t have to.

“I can make things happen, you see,” Hannah said. “I could have stopped your marriage to Matthew by telling him any one of your lies. But I didn’t, because I came to believe you were exactly the sort of wife Matthew needed. Oh, I knew you were after his money, but you weren’t coldhearted. You had some affection for him. That was clear. You were simply determined to better yourself, and who could blame you, after the way you’d been raised? Would it surprise you to know that I rather admired your spirit? That I hoped some of it might rub off on Matthew?