The Daughters Of Red Hill Hall (33 page)

BOOK: The Daughters Of Red Hill Hall
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He paused and stared at her, as though giving her one last chance to admit the truth. She gazed back at him, her mouth slightly open as her mind raced. So he had read Sarah’s letters and diary. He would know the truth of her treachery then. But there was nothing in those papers that could prove who shot Sarah, was there?

He shook his head sadly. ‘I see you still don’t wish to confess. Rebecca, it was no surprise to me to discover the extent of Sarah’s deceit. I was saddened to learn that she had been with child when she died, and that the father was the poor man who drowned in the well. How he came to be there I can only conjecture. I cannot bring myself to think it could have been Sarah’s doing, despite what I learned about the way she manipulated both your father and me.’

He sighed before continuing, his voice quiet and sad. ‘It was the last entry in Sarah’s diary that shocked me. The one in which she admitted feeling threatened by you. You may have had just cause to hate her, after all that she had done, but you did not have the right to…’

‘To what?’ she whispered, as his words trailed away.

‘Did you? Do you admit it? You shot her?’

‘I was shot too,’ she said, touching her shoulder, which still troubled her at times.

He gazed at her, his eyes wide and troubled. ‘Tell me, Rebecca, tell me what really happened that day. I know not whether I will be able to accept it, but I do know I cannot accept you hiding the truth from me. I require complete honesty in our relationship, at all times.’

She realised he meant it and that she could lose him, if she did not confess. She might lose him still, once he knew the truth, but she had to take that risk. Besides, the burden of keeping the secret had been almost too much to bear. She resolved to tell him everything, and let the future take its course. Her only worry now was for her own unborn child. If she told him, and his sense of justice forced him to report what he knew to the authorities, she would be tried and if found guilty, she could hang. Her child would die with her. Or would they wait until she had given birth before hanging her?

Perhaps Charles would keep quiet, and simply share the secret with her. That was her only hope. She drew a deep breath.

‘Very well. I will tell you everything. But first, you must understand that I too felt threatened. Sarah had robbed me of my fiancé and my inheritance. I had lost both my parents – I suspected she might even have had something to do with Mama’s death. I thought you were dead, and my mind ran riot, thinking perhaps she had pushed you into the well. And I
do
think her capable of having killed Jed. I don’t understand her motives, but I am certain she caused him to fall into that well.’

‘All right, so you each felt threatened by the other. What happened?’

She told him the events of that awful day. How she had gone to the cellar in search of the pistols, with no intent to hurt Sarah but just to feel she could defend herself if necessary. How she had discovered one pistol missing, and guessed Sarah had taken it. How she had remembered Spencer showing them how to load and prime the weapons, long ago when they were children. She told him of her shaking legs and sweating palms as she loaded the pistol. How she’d hidden it in her skirt pocket, just before Sarah appeared in the cellar. Their row, the accusations, and then the terrible moment when Sarah pulled out her pistol, and the two found themselves at the point of no return.

Her voice faltered and the tears streamed as she recounted how she had focused on Sarah’s finger, waiting to see if it squeezed the trigger. She had not wanted to fire her weapon. She had wanted, somehow, for Sarah to back down, lower her pistol, then she too would have, and then they would have come to some agreement, some way in which they could move forward and forget it all. But that had not happened, and Sarah’s finger had moved on the trigger, and Rebecca had had no choice. How she had felt the searing, agonising pain in her shoulder at the same moment she had squeezed her own trigger. The noise, the smell, the smoke, the agony.

She paused a moment, watching his face. He was silent, white, shocked, shaking his head. She debated telling him how in that moment, when she thought they were both going to die, she forgave Sarah everything. No, that moment, that feeling of pure love mingled with bitter agony was hers and hers alone.

‘I passed out, I think. Spencer found us. You know the rest of the story.’

‘You lied to the constable about the man in the cellar.’ It was a statement, not a question.

‘I made it clear I had not definitely seen anyone. But yes, when it was suggested a man had broken in via the steps from the garden, I did allow them to think I’d glimpsed someone, and that person had shot us both. Charles, if the truth comes out I shall be tried and hanged! Please, don’t let that happen!’

His face was contorted, as though he was battling with conflicting emotions. ‘I abhor violence. To be married to a – a killer, for that is what you are – can I live with that? I don’t yet know if I can accept it. I loved you, Rebecca, with all my heart. I still do – but I cannot imagine lying by your side at night knowing as I now do, that Sarah’s death was by your hand.’

‘Charles, she would have killed me…’

‘We don’t know that. She shot at you, but at your shoulder. Perhaps she only meant to injure you, not kill you. Perhaps she only meant to scare you, and fire over your shoulder, but you moved and she hit you. We will never know.’

‘I know! I was there! She meant to kill me. Her aim was poor, or perhaps I did move so that she only hit my shoulder and not my heart. It was her or me. I shot in self-defence. Charles, you have to believe me! I cannot stand it if you don’t!’

‘I believe you, but even so, it is hard to stomach.’ He sighed, and his shoulders sagged. ‘Perhaps…perhaps you should put yourself forward, and tell the truth. At trial, the judge will take your plea of self-defence into account. You would escape hanging, I am sure.’

‘But I would have to go to prison!’ Rebecca was not sure which fate scared her more. She had heard terrible things about women’s prisons. Even though she would be able to afford to pay for better food, a private cell and small comforts, the idea of being incarcerated with all manner of criminals appalled her. She was not brave enough to survive that. It would be better to hang. Not for the first time she found herself wondering if it would have been better if she had died in the shooting, too.

‘You would, yes, but not for life,’ Charles replied. ‘Oh God, Rebecca. I know what is the right and proper thing to do but…’ He tailed off and shook his head. His voice was unsteady and he would not look at her.

There was one chance to change his mind, and persuade him to keep the secret. One last chance. This was not how she had wanted to tell him, but she had no choice.

‘Charles, please, there is something else you need to know,’ she began.

He turned to stare at her. ‘More secrets you have kept from me?’

‘I kept this one only until I was sure. Charles, you are to become a father. I am with child. About four months, now. I had planned to tell you as soon as you came back from your trip. I felt the baby move this morning, for the first time. Our child, Charles.’ Tears were streaming down her face. The happy, perfect future she had imagined just an hour or so ago lay scattered around her like fallen blossom. Gone, unless he realised how much he too could lose, if he insisted on her owning up to her crime. Unless he buried his sense of justice and became complicit in keeping her secret. She had thrown herself on his mercy by confessing to him. But she’d had no choice.

The blood drained from his face. He sat down heavily on the bench next to her, close, but not touching. A blown rose shed its petals onto his thigh. He brushed them off and leaned over, his face in his hands. She kept quiet, allowing him time for the news to sink in, for the implications to work their way through his thoughts.

‘I had longed for this, Rebecca. I had hoped it would happen early in our marriage. But now – I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel. I wanted a child more than anything. I wanted us, together, with a growing brood at our feet. But I value truth and honesty above all things, which is why I wanted you to confess to shooting Sarah, and let justice take its course.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘But how can you confess now that you are going to be a mother?’

She kept quiet. There was nothing more she could say. Her fate was entirely in his hands.

At last he stood up, and turned to face her. ‘I need time to think, Rebecca. I was so sure I knew what was the right and honourable thing to do. I need – to go. Do not follow me. I need time, and space.’ At this he turned and strode away across the lawn, leaving Rebecca staring at his retreating back, the tears streaming down her face.

She remembered how he’d said part of his reason for travelling on the Continent after their first engagement had ended was because he wanted to get away from it all, to forget. Was this his way of dealing with problems – to turn tail and run away? There were five months until the baby was due. How long would he be gone for, and what would be his decision on his return? Would he even write letters to the authorities while he was away, telling them what she’d said, so that one day there would be a knock at the door and she would be arrested and taken away to await trial?

Rebecca felt herself rooted to the bench. She could not move. Damn Charles’s sense of righteousness! Damn his belief that justice must be done! She had acted in self-defence. Sarah would have killed her.

And for all that, she missed Sarah terribly. They had been so close. As a child she had wanted Sarah to be her sister. Now she knew that her wish had come true – Sarah had been her half-sister. Her half-sister whom she had murdered, along with her unborn child. Had she not been punished enough already, carrying this terrible secret within her? She bent over, her face in her hands and gave in to the sobs that wracked her body.

‘Rebecca?’

She looked up, and found Charles standing over her. She pushed away the tears, not sure for how long she had been sitting there crying.

‘I did not even reach the door of the house before making my decision, Rebecca.’ He sat down beside her and reached for her hands. ‘You did no wrong. You had no choice. The outcome was regrettable but the alternative – that Sarah might have killed you – far worse. You rid the world of a blackmailer and cold-blooded murderer. I think you are right, and that Sarah may have killed Jed Arthur and possibly even your mother.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I will not divulge your secret, Rebecca, and neither will I force or encourage you to do so. It is our shared secret now. We started over once before. Can we do it again? I want you, Rebecca, and our baby, and the happy family life we had dreamed of. Can you forgive my behaviour today? I was in shock…’

‘Of course I forgive you that! It was entirely understandable,’ she said, raising his hands to her lips to kiss.

‘Then we are reunited. I ask for one promise, only.’

‘What is that, my love?’

‘That we never speak of this matter again. I want the secret to go to the grave with us.’

She smiled with relief. She was saved, and so was her child. ‘Agreed.’ And then she leaned in to kiss him, long and deep, as the baby shuffled around inside her.

Chapter 31

August 2015

Gemma reached out and turned off the alarm. Ben rolled over and smiled at her. ‘Morning, gorgeous. Sleep OK?’

‘Not really. Too much on my mind. I’ve been thinking, Ben. Finally reached a decision.’

‘You have? Funnily enough, I was thinking too, and have also come to a conclusion.’ He grinned at her and pulled her close for a kiss.

‘Go on then. You first,’ she said. Had he been thinking what to do about Nat as well? From what she’d seen he’d gone straight to sleep last night and hadn’t moved, while she’d tossed and turned for hours.

He grinned again and slipped out of bed and onto the floor, where he knelt beside the bed and reached for her hand. ‘Gem, this may not be the most romantic way to do it, but I can’t hold out any longer. I want us back the way we were before – no – moving forward from there. Gem, darling, will you marry me?’

She laughed, and for a moment he looked heartbroken. Realising how her laughter could be misconstrued she pulled him back into bed. ‘Course I’ll marry you, you silly thing! I assumed that was a given, once we’d got back together again. I mean, I know I hadn’t put the ring back on but you didn’t really need to ask.’

‘Phew! Thought for a moment there you were going to say no way! Wear the ring I gave you, please. And this time nothing’s going to push us apart.
Nothing
.’ He wrapped his arms around her and she snuggled into his shoulder.

‘I think we’re closer now than ever,’ she said.

‘Mmm, you could be right.’ Ben pulled her even tighter. ‘Your turn, then. What’s your big decision? To love and cherish me for ever and ever?’

‘Not exactly, although…’

‘What? You’re not going to love me for ever?’ Ben pulled a sad face.

‘Course I am, you wally! But that’s not what my decision last night was. It was about how to deal with the Nat problem.’

‘Ah. Yes, that.’ He rolled away and propped himself up on one elbow. ‘So? Are you going to the police?’

She shook her head. ‘No. I just don’t think there’s strong enough evidence. And I can’t face a court case and everything, while we are trying to plan a wedding. Besides, she’d still be around, and might try something else to hurt us.’

‘You could get a restraining order. She’d be arrested if she came anywhere near.’

‘She nearly killed us last night, without being anywhere near us.’

‘Good point.’ He frowned. ‘What, then, if not the police?’

She took a deep breath. ‘Ben, I have to be rid of her. All the while she’s still here she could hurt us. I’ve got to get rid of her.’

He stared, wide-eyed. ‘Gem, what are you saying? You can’t… I mean… You don’t mean it, surely?’

‘I can, and I do. She’s got to go. And I know how I can do it.’ Gemma threw back the duvet and got up, going straight to the bathroom before Ben tried to talk her out of it. It was a radical step to take, but she had to do it. As so often the previous night, thoughts of Rebecca and Sarah came to her mind. Sarah had ruined Rebecca’s life, and Rebecca hadn’t hesitated in doing away with Sarah, and it had worked. The parallels were too strong to ignore. It was as though she’d discovered the truth about Red Hill Hall for a reason – to help her work out how to resolve the problem of Nat.

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