“I realize how disturbing the attack was for you. I understand now why you took your life, yet…”
Annie rushed toward me. She drove me back to the wall, her icy hand pressed over my mouth. She shook her head at me as we stood nose to nose. I stared at her with my eyes wide. My mind sought to find the meaning in her actions.
She removed her hand yet remained in close proximity to me. My brows knit and I asked, “What am I missing, Annie? What do I not understand?”
Annie released her grip on me. I paced the floor, attempting to piece the puzzle together. Annie’s eyes followed me. “You were attacked. Someone forced himself on you.” Annie nodded. I continued, “It resulted in a child.” Another nod. “The attack coupled with the realization of your pregnancy left you despondent enough to take your own life.”
Annie answered this statement with a shake of her head. Incorrect. But why? The crease in my forehead deepened. “The attack itself?” I questioned.
Another shake of the head. “Then what? What led to your suicide, Annie? If not the attack or the resulting pregnancy, what?”
Annie shook her head again. “What else can I be incorrect about?” I questioned aloud. “You threw yourself from this very tower for some reason!”
Annie shook her head. Frustration grew inside me and I struggled to hold my patience. “For no reason?” I suggested. I received no response. My eyes narrowed, and an idea occurred to me. I repeated a shortened version of my previous statement. “You threw yourself from this very tower.”
Annie shook her head. She signaled something to me. My stomach dropped. I shook my head at her. “No,” I murmured, lowering my eyes to the floor. “No, it cannot be.”
Chapter 24
Annie’s gaze bore into me. I raised my eyes to meet hers. “You did not end your own life. Someone… someone did that for you.” Annie nodded. “Someone murdered you!”
Annie nodded again. My jaw dropped. “You were murdered,” I whispered again. My mind whirled. “Who? The same man who attacked you? Who forced himself on you?”
Annie nodded. “Oh, Annie,” I cried. A flurry of notions buzzed through my mind. I resumed pacing as I sorted through the details. This had been what Annie attempted to tell me the night I fell from the window. She had not meant me harm, instead she had been communicating to me that she had been pushed.
But who? I recalled our previous encounters and the dream in which Annie appeared to me. One detail stuck in my mind. Annie’s torment in my dream was witnessed by someone: Edwin. In retrospect, many of our encounters occurred after Edwin had visited the castle. And Annie had exhibited curiosity whenever Edwin was present.
My stomach somersaulted at the concept. Edwin was a scamp and a cad, but a dangerous man with a penchant for forcing himself on women? I could not accept it. Or did I prefer not to accept it?
Passing this news to Robert would be near impossible. I must be certain. I stopped my pacing and stared at Annie. “Edwin?” I questioned, my voice breaking.
Relief washed over me as Annie shook her head. Edwin was not the culprit. But then why did he appear in my dream, I wondered? Annie pointed to the floor. I shook my head, not understanding. She pointed again and signaled someone pushing her. The floor, I wondered? “Downstairs?” I responded.
She nodded. “Your attacker… was from below stairs? One of the servants?”
She shook her head. “Downstairs… but not a servant. Then who, Annie? Who else is downstairs? Obviously, it is not Robert. It is not a servant. It is not Edwin. The only other man in this house is…” I halted, realization dawning. “Sir Richard Prescott,” I whispered.
Annie nodded, her lips curling into a sneer and a growl emanating from her.
Warmth spread through my body as my knees went weak. Of course. How could I have missed it? Sir Richard Prescott. The man who attempted to force himself upon me at the New Year’s Eve ball. The man whose vulgarity knew no bounds. The man whom I had been warned about by multiple others. He attacked Annie, raped her, fathered a child with her against her will, then murdered her.
A clapping noise broke my train of thought. “Bravo, orphan duchess, bravo,” Sir Richard Prescott said, stepping into the room. “I wondered if the rumors about you were true. And I wondered if Annie would impart the story to you.”
I swallowed hard. He stood in the sole doorway, blocking it. I could not escape. He continued. “I will admit, your marriage to Duke Blackmoore puzzled me. Though when Edwin told me about your special talent and your investigation, it became clear. After several inquiries, I learned you were no charlatan.”
I stood alone in silence. Annie had disappeared when Sir Richard entered the room.
“You really should have listened to your brother-in-law and abandoned this, little orphan.”
Sir Richard glanced around the room. With a deep inhale, he patted his chest. His hands clutched at his lapels and his chest puffed. “In this very room, Annie and I engaged in our… indiscretion.”
“Indiscretion?” I replied incredulously. “You forced yourself upon her!” I shouted.
“We shall agree to disagree on the terms, orphan duchess. But when she confessed she was carrying my child and planned to tell her husband, well…” he paused, glancing at me with narrowed eyes. “I simply could not allow that to happen.”
“So, you murdered her,” I retorted.
“I really had no other recourse. Reputation is everything in social circles. A bastard child with another man’s wife? That could have cost me far too much. Of course, from this height, it was simple to make it appear a suicide. I simply made myself scarce after she plummeted to her death and no one was any the wiser.”
Silence filled the room for a moment. “Well, no one
