Strike at Midnight(100)
They would continue to look for the others who had been given false memories after the wedding, and Sir Raymond had been happy to abide by my request that he save Lord Camembert until last. It would at least give Lord Havenly the time he needed to tell Lady Camembert the truth if he hadn’t already, seeing as the news was spreading like wildfire that there had been many imposters in our midst.
The duke had come to the wedding and thanked me personally for my efforts in helping to hunt him down. He had told me that Rapunzel had updated him on what I had discovered behind Billy’s reasons for aiding with the kidnapping and that he would take him on as a permanent stable hand to keep him out of trouble after his release. It had made me like the duke very much after that confession, but I couldn’t deny that Rapunzel had probably played a big part in making that happen. She had a way of getting people to do what she wanted.
It was a shame to hear that nothing more had progressed with them, though. When I had cornered her during her visits before the wedding, she had told me that he was just helping her and Sir Raymond with the investigation and nothing more. She had become tight-lipped about the whole thing and instead made it her mission to help the prince and king in keeping me calm when I ranted on about being passed around the dressmakers like a ragged doll. So I would let her off the hook. For now.
All of my friends—old and new—had come to see us get married, and even Briar and Mia had attended together. It had been a large affair, but the prince and his father had been amazing in trying to keep my interactions with certain people to a minimum. I was actually starting to like my father-in-law very much for that alone.
It was the start of a whole new world, and the fear was starting to subside. I suppose it was right what Jacque had said all that time ago when he told me that I had a choice between being a victim or a fighter. And this choice—this risk—had allowed me to keep on fighting. It was hard for it to have risen to the surface after all this time, but my past was exactly that. My past. And now, even though all this change seemed as scary as fuck, I could handle it.
A knock came from the door, and I walked away from the window to see my husband—or should I say very dashing husband—walk into the room. His face lit up as soon as he saw me, and I couldn’t help but put my hand out to him in welcome.
“Here you are,” he said as he walked over to me to take the hand I’d offered. “I was starting to worry that you had run off from me again.” He kissed my brow. “Like the night we first met.”
“If I recall, I was running away from you to save you that night. I thought you a wuss of the tallest order.”
He laughed as he leaned back to look at me. “Needed to escape?” he asked in understanding, and I nodded.
“Just for a short while. I’ll go back and face the savages again soon.”
His face turned serious and he bit on his top lip before speaking. “I have something to tell you.”
“What?” I asked, not liking that worried impression on his brow. This wasn’t good.
“I did something that you may hate me for, but I want to explain first…”
My heart started to beat faster in my chest at the thought of what the hell he could have possibly done.
“What?” I asked, this time through gritted teeth.
“I want you to know that I had someone discreetly look for this Kaleb servant who had worked for your stepmother, and I wanted to let you know that he didn’t die from your wound.”
“You did what?” I practically shouted, not liking that he had done something like this without speaking to me first. It felt like he had prodded at a scab that had started to heal over.
“I wanted you to know that you didn’t kill a man. He didn’t die from what you did.”
“And that’s convenient for you?” I roared. “That you’re not married to a damn killer?”
“That didn’t matter to me,” he said as he confronted me with his usual calm demeanor. “I didn’t want you to feel guilt for something you didn’t do. And don’t tell me that you didn’t because I know that would be a lie.”
My mouth opened as if to say something, but then it registered that he’d said I hadn’t killed Kaleb. I hadn’t killed the bastard, and I didn’t quite know how to feel about that.
“He’s dead,” he carried on before I could say anything else. “He died from gonorrhea about two years ago, after he had been cast out by your stepmother when she found out he had the disease. I was informed he died in a whorehouse.”
“Those poor whores,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say. But Kaleb was dead and I hadn’t killed him. I didn’t have to bear that weight on my conscience anymore.
“I think that’s where he may have gotten it from,” he said sheepishly as he took my words literally. “He liked to frequent them a lot, from my understanding.”
“I suppose karma really is a bitch,” I muttered, and he came close to put his hands on my shoulders.
“There’s something else.”
“Holy crap. What now?”
“Your stepmother and stepsisters are here,” he said so fast that I barely heard it. He put a hand on my lips to keep my mouth shut as he blathered on. “I invited them as your second wedding present and I want to explain why. Okay?”