She believed him. Such power he held over her. With a naturalness she thought abandoned in Devon, she reached for him. “Thank you.”
He caught her against him for a brief kiss. She shut her eyes as his lips moved against hers. The sweet contact ended too soon.
Jonas drew away to uncork the brandy and splash it across William’s body. The scent of liquor sharpened the air. Then with sudden violence he flung the bottle onto the flagstones to shatter.
“That was clever.” She reached for his hand. “I still don’t understand why you came here this afternoon.”
“I wanted to make sure you got home safely. I meant only to watch you go inside, but the house looked deserted.”
“I’m so glad you checked. William was ready to kill Roberta.”
“Now he’ll never threaten her again.”
Sidonie shivered as if William’s ghost breathed cold air against her nape. “I’ll clean up the nursery and look after Roberta. You must go, Jonas.”
She tasted his reluctance to abandon her in his swift kiss. As she watched him stride away with his usual purpose, she blinked back tears. It seemed wrong that they should be apart. Such a difference a week had made to proud, solitary Sidonie Forsythe.
Jonas’s plan to save Roberta worked more smoothly than Sidonie could have expected, even in her most optimistic moments.
She entered the house from the terrace just as the aged butler, who to her knowledge hadn’t been paid in six months, started lighting the lamps. Thus he discovered William’s body and fetched Sidonie from the terrace. After the wrench of parting from Jonas, she didn’t need to feign distress. Recovering from a hefty dose of laudanum, Roberta was quiet and dozy and hardly aware of events when she woke to news of her husband’s demise.
Sir John Phillips, the local magistrate, arrived that night to complete the formalities. He accepted Sidonie’s tale of being away from the house all afternoon. During a short interview, Sidonie hinted at William’s financial woes and his increasing reliance on alcohol. Sir John, an elderly gentleman of sedentary habits, showed no interest in pursuing William’s death as other than accidental. To Sidonie’s relief, Jonas’s name was never mentioned.
Beneath her surface calmness, Sidonie was worried sick about Roberta. She couldn’t forget that terrifying instant when her sister seemed likely to throw herself after her foul husband.
The next morning, she carried a breakfast tray up to Roberta’s room. After depositing the tray on a table, she pushed the curtains apart and opened the window so fresh air dissipated the sickly scent of laudanum and the heavy perfumes Roberta favored. Roberta’s only response to these activities was a pained groan. “For pity’s sake, Sidonie, my head aches like the devil.”
Well, that answered any questions about how Roberta was feeling. Sidonie took pity on her sister to pull the curtains half closed so brightness filtered into the untidy, overcrowded chamber. “Sir John is content to rule William’s death an accident.”
“Good.” With another groan, Roberta pushed herself up in the bed, slumping against the headboard. In the daylight, she looked ten years older than she was. Sidonie’s rankling irritation with her sister for continuing to gamble drowned under a wave of helpless love. When they were small, Roberta had seemed so strong and clever. Now she was lost and defenseless, a mirror image of their sweet, sad, ineffectual mother.
Forcing the painful memories away, Sidonie poured Roberta a cup of tea. “We’re lucky he’s so lazy.”
Roberta grunted as she sipped her tea. Weariness, distress, and the aftereffects of the drug shadowed her blue eyes. Sidonie began to tidy the room, collecting scattered clothes and shoes and jewelry. Silence reigned until suddenly Roberta started to shake so violently that the cup rattled against its saucer.
“Sidonie, what are we to do?” Tears poured down Roberta’s cheeks and a strangled sob escaped her.
“Oh, darling. Roberta…” Sidonie dropped the handful of silk scarves she collected and rushed to rescue the cup. She sat on the edge of the bed and curled her arms around her distraught sister. “It’s all right. Don’t cry. You’re free. He’ll never hit you again.”
“William’s gone. I can hardly believe it.” She buried her head in Sidonie’s shoulder until finally broken howls subsided to soft mewling. Finally she drew away to wipe her eyes and sniff. “I hardly know what to think.”
“We’ll come through this, Roberta.” Sidonie echoed Jonas’s words from yesterday as she reached into the nightstand drawer for a handkerchief.
Roberta wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “I loathe how we had to rely on that odious man.” Roberta’s eyes sharpened and with a sinking feeling, Sidonie realized her sister’s immediate concern had shifted from her husband’s death. “What happened in Devon? You and that Merrick creature seemed great chums yesterday. I imagined after your ordeal that you’d abhor the very mention of his name.”
God give her strength. Sidonie wasn’t sure she was up to this discussion, although she’d known it was inevitable. She still wasn’t sure what she wanted to tell Roberta. Not the full story, that was for sure. “He was kind to me.”
“That doesn’t sound like the ruthless devil I know. Merciful heavens, Sidonie, the scoundrel compelled you into his bed. He’s little better than a thug.” The opium’s effects well and truly ebbed. Roberta’s gaze focused in a way Sidonie found discomfiting. “Or did you somehow talk him into letting you keep your maidenhead?”
“I told you yesterday that he didn’t hurt me.” If she blushed any hotter, she’d self-combust.
Sidonie dreaded more questions, but even worse than an inquisition was the way Roberta’s face tightened with remorse. Roberta grabbed Sidonie’s hands, wringing them in her distress. “Oh, my dear sister, I’m so sorry. You’ve gone and fallen in love with the villain. I thought you’d be safe. He’s so hideous and rough. But of course, you’re so inexperienced with men. I should never have let you go. How can I forgive myself?”
Sidonie tore free of Roberta’s clinging hold and rose to stand trembling by the bed. “He didn’t force me although he could have. I thought you’d be pleased about that.”
“Except the cur was too clever for both of us. He was wicked enough to seduce you into cooperating in your ruin and now you’ll break your heart over him.” Roberta scowled at her. “It’s part of his revenge on our family. He hates me. You know that.”
“He hated William.”