‘Never mind,’ she murmured. ‘I know why.’ She clutched her hands together. ‘I never knew she was there that night.’
‘Mr Sidney doesn’t think she actually saw anything,’ Dalton said. ‘But she was aware that Mallencourt was there and that he was dead the following day.’
Inwardly, Regina felt as if she had swallowed stones. Had anything been real? Or was their friendship only a means of Anne getting closer? She had spent many days with her, sometimes inviting her to stay over the night. They had spent long hours talking, and she supposed Anne had come over that night and was waiting for her. She had not attended the ball, for since her father’s death, the family had received few invitations.
‘Will the blackmail stop, do you think?’
Dalton shrugged. ‘Possibly. Now that we know who it was.’ He reached for her hand and squeezed it. ‘Are you all right?’
She didn’t know. It felt as if her entire friendship had been a lie, and it hurt to know that the bright, spirited young woman had been stealing thousands of pounds a year from her father. Had Papa known this? Had he paid the money to avoid scandal? Or was it charity? Somehow, she didn’t believe it was the latter, for Ned had borrowed money from Tavin MacKinloch over the years to pay it. Her father had remained silent about their finances, never alluding to his financial troubles. It seemed that he had only revealed his debts to Arabella after he had restored his wealth—but he had not breathed a word about the blackmail.
‘I don’t know what to think of all this,’ she admitted, ‘but I agree that it would be best to keep it quiet.’ She thought about writing to her former friend to offer financial help, if she would cease the blackmail and remain quiet. But then, there was no guarantee that Anne would agree. It felt as if she didn’t even know her friend any more.
‘What do you want to do if she reveals everything?’ he ventured. ‘What then?’
The truth weighed heavily upon her, and she knew she had to tell him the truth. He could not help her if he didn’t know what had happened. ‘Dalton, there is more about that night. There are things I didn’t tell you.’
His face tensed, and silence descended between them. She could feel his worry, his censure. For so long, she had hidden behind shadows, hoping that no one would ever know, save her father. But she could not keep this from him any longer. She simply didn’t know how to begin.
Dalton finally broke the stillness, saying, ‘Then tell me what happened. All of it, this time.’
Regina saw no other choice. She steeled herself and then faced Dalton. ‘The night when I was attacked, I let you believe that Papa broke the door down to save me. That...wasn’t entirely what happened.’
Her hands began to shake, and her courage faltered. He would truly think the worst of her after this. The blood pulsed within her veins, quickening her fears. ‘Our footman, Frederick, had gone to find another key after Mallencourt locked us inside. He didn’t hear me scream, because the baron had shoved a handkerchief in my mouth.’
Just speaking of that night brought back terrible memories. She remembered her dry mouth, the blend of fear and rage rising inside her as she had tried to fight back. A part of her had remained alert during the attempted rape, and she had pretended to lose her balance.
‘I—suspected that Lord Mallencourt would rape me before anyone could help, and I had to find a way to stop him. He forced me up against the wall, and I was not strong enough to push him away. So, I let my weight fall towards the hearth.’
Dalton was listening to her, his gaze intent and focused. She didn’t know what he thought of her, but she continued. ‘When he tried to pull me back, I seized a fireplace poker and struck him in the head. He lost his balance and fell backwards.’ Bile rose up in her throat, and she struggled to keep back the nausea. ‘H-he cracked his skull against the stone hearth.’
Even now, she was haunted by the blood spreading out upon the white marble. At the time, she’d believed he was merely unconscious. But after Mallencourt didn’t move again, she realised what she had done. He was dead, and she was at fault for it. The paralysing guilt had haunted her ever since, and it was a burden she could never surrender.
‘My father did break down the door. But when he came inside, Mallencourt was already dead. I killed him.’
Her tears did fall now, but Dalton was staring at her as if she were a stranger. There was a blend of horror and disbelief in his expression...which was exactly why she had not spoken of it before.
She waited for him to speak, but he simply stared at her as if she were a stranger. Finally, she lifted her gaze to his. There was a storm brewing in his eyes.
‘Why didn’t you tell me the truth?’ he asked quietly. His voice held a chill, and after what he’d just learned about her, no doubt he was furious.
‘I didn’t want to see you looking at me the way you are now,’ she answered softly. ‘I didn’t want you to despise me for what I did.’
She waited for him to deny it, but his face hardened with anger. ‘I am your husband in every way that matters, Regina. There was no reason to hide all this. Not from me.’
‘If you had known that I killed Mallencourt, you never would have wanted to marry me.’ She was quite certain of that. ‘I cannot change what I did. But I can keep my past from hurting you.’
‘Is that why you didn’t want to marry me in Scotland?’ he guessed. ‘Because you didn’t think I was strong enough to protect you?’
‘What man wants to wed a murderer?’ she countered. ‘I didn’t want you
