Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
He had been watching the house.
“It is not I who must explain myself to you. But you to the rest of us. And fear not, for that time has come. I thank you for coming,” I declared before lifting my hand to give the magistrate the letters. “Before Mrs. Topwells took her life, she penned these letters and had them sent to her father so he might know the truth. Are these, along with my witnesses attesting to Fitzwilliam’s offenses against me, not enough to rid us of such a devious character?”
“He lies!” Fitzwilliam yelled and then looked upon the house. “This is all some deceitful trick. Marcella! Whatever he has told you are lies. Marcella!”
“If you will not believe it from my lips, then let it be from another,” I said, making way to Dr. Darrington, who was rigid and his face stern as he stepped out of the house.
“Sir, I must beg of you, for the health of Mr. Wildingham, please refrain from yelling,” he said sharply.
“I want my wife!”
“That is no longer possible!” he said.
Fitzwilliam glanced between us both and shook his head. However, he was cut off by a cough from the magistrate.
“You, sir,” he snapped at Fitzwilliam, “shall report yourself to my court by evening. And should you not, I shall send soldiers to bring you in, you wretch!”
“It is a lie!” Fitzwilliam grabbed on to him as the magistrate marched back to his carriage. Seeking to appeal his case, he continued, “Do you not see the games they play? Do you not see the holes in this story? Should Sir Dennison-Whit hear of his niece like this, he shall also blame you—”
“Unhand me, you madman!” the magistrate shouted, pulling his arm away and nearly kicking Fitzwilliam as he rushed to enter his own carriage. “You shall be judged for your crimes. Driver!”
The yell that stemmed from Fitzwilliam’s frustrations was like a wounded wolf. He turned back to me, his teeth bared and his eyes blazing. He said not a word as he got up onto his horse and left.
“Should you not go after him?” Dr. Darrington asked me.
I shook my head. “Our biggest priority now is to get Marcella from here quickly.”
The moment there was even the slightest darkness, she had to go.
Aphrodite
She was to be dressed in my clothes and her hair hidden under a hood. Evander had explained the plan, and all of us were now eager as the sun set. I had never been involved with such a plot before. My heart raced as we waited for her to say goodbye to her father upstairs. Evander nervously checked the windows every so often, and unlike the night before, the air was still.
“It is time,” he said.
I nodded, going to leave the room, but Dr. Darrington came in. “She is in the garden.”
“Did I not say to remain in the house?” Evander demanded angrily.
“She is with her father. There is a commemorative for her mother and brother there.”
Evander sighed and turned to go, and all I could do was follow suit. Luckily, we saw the small, white-haired, slightly hunched, almost breath-deprived older man who was Mr. Wildingham reentering the house with Marcella. Quickly, I moved to help him back in.
“Did I not tell you to remain inside?” Evander said to Marcella. “We must go—now.”
“My father.”
“Go…” The old man coughed as I held him. “My…dear, go.”
She rushed to hug the man once more before Evander gave her his arm. Under the darkness of night, she was to pretend she was me, with none of her skin or hair showing and wearing my clothes. People would believe it, as who else would be on Evander’s arm? From there, she would switch carriages with whomever Evander had arranged to take her.
“Remain here,” he whispered to me. “I shall fetch you the moment it is done.”
I nodded quickly. “Go.”
I helped Mr. Wildingham as they walked toward the front door to our waiting carriage.
Never had I been so nervous, watching them prepare to depart, when all of a sudden, I heard what sounded like thunder crack outside.
But it was not thunder.
I watched the horses in front buck in fear and Evander, by the door, fall to the ground!
“Evander,” I screamed, rushing to the door.
Across from him, with a pistol in his hand, was Fitzwilliam.
“I knew it,” the wretch said as he rushed to Evander.
“Evander?” I called and rolled him onto his side, blood escaping the corner of his mouth. “Evander!”
“Ummm.” He groaned, and I gasped out. “What happened?”
The answer to his question came as we heard screaming.
“Let go!”
I glanced up to see Marcella now being pulled by the hair away from us.
Fitzwilliam shook her violently. “Shut up! Do you not know the trouble you have caused me?”
“Stop—” My voice cut off as he held the pistol on us once more.