Betrayed (10 page)

“Bran, I can’t change the past. I cannot
undo what my father has done. But I can be a better friend to you now. With
Clara’s testimony, justice can be served. At the very least, Arthur can be made
to confess. Surely, that would bring you peace?”

“It is a remarkable coincidence that she is
confined to an asylum the day before the meeting, and an even greater coincidence
that you have come to plead her case. Is this how you mean to distract me from
my purpose? Even if I could find a way to get her out, I’m only in London to
attend the shareholders’ meeting tomorrow and then I must return to Windemere.
If you mean for me to abandon my plan to bring down your father in order to
save Clara, you have over-reached.”

“I don’t know what I meant when I came
here. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Can you not do both? Attend the meeting
and get Clara out the following day.” Edgar frowned, deep in thought. “Though
how is it to be done? There must be a loophole to be exploited....”

Branson eyes took on that odd glassy,
dynamic look Edgar had seen in him when they were students at Oxford. It was the
look his cousin got when he was on the brink of a brilliant idea. Edgar didn’t
understand how a milliner’s son could be so clever, but Bran Reilly had the
uncanny ability to see the solution to a problem and the guts to execute it.

“What are you thinking,” Edgar asked,
suppressing his excitement.

“The best chance we have to get her out is
tomorrow while Arthur is sequestered in the meeting. He will be unreachable by
the doctors at that point. But I cannot be in two places at once. I need to
return to Windemere today to put the rest of the plan in motion.”

“Fine!
I’ll appear at the meeting in your stead. I’ll say whatever it is you
require me to say, Bran. I will act as your representative.”

Branson lifted a brow. “Do you know what
you are suggesting? I mean to destroy your father. Do you have the balls to do
that?”

“I would do anything to save my sister.
Yes, even betray my father as he has betrayed her. I would throw my father to
the wolves to free Clara from that hellhole.”

“You love her.”

“I am her older brother,” he said simply. “She
has no one left but me to look out for her. You said I couldn’t imagine the
guilt you’ve suffered these past seven years. Consider what I have suffered in these
past twelve hours learning my father is a rapist and my little sister has been
carrying the burden of his sin. And what have I been doing? Playing at cards
and making witty conversation while she suffered in silence. She could have
come to me but I did not give her a reason to believe I could be trusted. I
have amends to make as well, my friend.”

Branson spoke so quietly that Edgar almost
didn’t catch it. “I will give you my proxy, Edgar. You will attend the meeting as
my representative and vote according to my directive. If you deceive me or lose
your nerve or let Arthur bully you into doing his will, Clara will find herself
escorted back to Gateshead within the hour. Do not test me on this.”

“I KNEW I could count on you! You mean to get her out.”
Edgar clapped Branson on the shoulders in a rough, clumsy embrace. “Thank God! But
how—what can be done?”

“That I do not know. Leave it with me. I
have an idea but it is unlikely to work without a great deal of money and oaths
in blood. The less you
know,
the better. You must keep
up your end of the bargain. When the business is concluded, send word to
Windemere Hall. I’ll expect a full account of the proceedings. If I am
satisfied with the outcome, Clara will remain under my protection at the
estate. If not, back to Gateshead she goes.”

“And what of the charge she has made
against my father? What action will you take?”

“That remains to be seen.”

Branson lifted a sheet of paper from the
writing desk in the club. “Let us go over what I want you to say at the meeting.
Sit down, cousin. We’ve got work to do.”

“Bran, before we begin, there is something
you should know.”

“For pity’s sake.”
He set his pen down and sat back. “What is it now?”

“Strachan is lending Arthur the money to
make the accounts balance. The charge of embezzlement will be dropped, or at
the very least, lose its efficacy.”

Branson jumped to his feet. “Damn it to
hell! Why didn’t you tell me this at the beginning?”

“Would you have agreed to help Clara if I
did? You would have shown me the door before I got two words out and then you
would not have heard my plan. I’m not as clever in business as you or father,
but I have an idea. You want Arthur removed from the board; I have devised a
way to make that happen.”

His cousin glared at him suspiciously, a
tense blue stare that challenged Edgar’s nerve. His plan was sound but he had
to convince Branson he could be trusted.

“Strachan’s offer was strange to say the
least,” Edgar began. “He wants something. I never liked the man even when Clara
was taken up with him. I don’t know what he hopes to gain but this loan is a
substantial sum. It will give him power over Arthur—”

“And thereby, power over Clara.”

“Yes.”

Edgar uttered a silent prayer that Branson
was clever enough to see the solution. His cousin would have to set aside his
lust for revenge for another month or so but Clara would be safe.

“Damn it,” Branson groaned. “I believe I know
where this is leading.”

“It is the only way. It will take a good
deal of trust in each other to pull it off. Bran, will you do it?”

“God damn it, Edgar!
This must go through tomorrow! I shall never be free if it does not. There will
not be another chance like this one.”
He groaned again
and raked his fingers through his hair. “Damn your eyes! Yes, I’ll do it. But
once this is over—”

“I know, I know,” Edgar said quickly. “Once
this is over, Arthur Hamilton gets what he deserves as pledged. And I will be
allied with you when that happens.”

Branson’s expression softened. “I almost
believe you. We have a long way to go, you and I, and not just in miles. You
haven’t asked why Leonard left Windemere to me and not you.”

Edgar shrugged. “I wasn’t happy about it.
I’m still not, but I’d rather have you on my side than against me for the
duration. I suppose I must have offended my uncle in some way.”

“Not you—your father.
I told my stepfather what Arthur had done. I didn’t expect him to
believe me but he did. Leonard knew what his brother was like. It wasn’t fair,
but he did not want the Hamilton bloodline to retain that corruption. The
legacy concerned him. My stepfather changed his will and left the estate to me
but I knew nothing about it until after his death.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Edgar
controlled his emotions. “For what it is worth, given the circumstances, it
hardly matters to me anymore. After Clara is free, I may be keen to indulge my
hurt pride, but for now, I am only glad to have you as an ally.”

“Sit down then,” he said gruffly. “I’ll
ring for coffee to be brought. I want to be in Somerset before dusk and we have
much to discuss.”

Edgar grinned. “You claim you won’t marry
my sister, but I suspect we’ll be brothers one day, despite your protests.”

But Branson astonished him by shaking his
head firmly. His eyes had darkened and his mouth set in a hard line. “Get that
hope out of your mind, Hamilton. I welcome your friendship but I cannot marry
Clara. That’s the end of it.”

As mysterious
and taciturn as ever
, thought Edgar. Bran was a
damaged, unhappy man whose heart had been broken at too early an age to
recover. Perhaps he was not the best match for his shy, sensitive sister after all.

§

“YOU DON’T belong here.” A voice hissed behind her.

The girl sidled against Clara as they
shuffled down the hall to their rooms, all of them in a single file, herded
like sheep into the cells for the night. The walls were tiled white and green
and reflected the sickly yellow light of the gas lamps.

Clara clutched the thin cotton gown she had
been given tighter around her body. Her hair hung loose. They had removed her
pins and combs not long after her arrival. To keep her from self-harm, she was
told. And now this strange girl had attached herself to Clara.

“I don’t belong here either. That is how I
recognized you. They are mad. We are not. Do not forget that. No matter what
they do to you,” the girl whispered. “How did you come to be here?”

“I witnessed a crime and made the mistake
of confronting the villain about it. My father had me committed. He hopes to
discredit me but I will recover; I will leave this place and when I do, I shall
make them listen to me.”

“I sincerely hope so,” the girl replied. “I
doubt I will ever get out. I too am a witness to a most inconvenient secret. No
one believes me, not the doctor or Matron. I’ve spoken the truth but they have
little use for the truth in here. Take my advice. If you want to leave this
place, tell them what they want to hear. Do not attempt to reason with them,
they will only be offended. Play the part of a restored patient. Act grateful
to them and they will soon send you home.”

“And what about you?”
Clara murmured. “Can you not do the same?”

“No, I’m here by Her Majesty’s order and I
will likely die here. If I cannot convince the Queen I am not a threat to the
Crown, I daresay she’ll have me killed one day.”

“Good God.” Clara wondered at this story
and then felt ashamed for doubting since doubt was easy and belief was hard. “What
did you witness?”

“I dare not tell you. It really is the most
dangerous secret. Let’s talk of something else. Your father had you committed,
you say. You must have witnessed something dreadfully inconvenient for him to
condemn you to this place.”

“I did. It was a crime. A terrible thing he
did.” Clara ran her tongue over her lips and tried to calm the quickening of
her pulse. “My father forced himself on a young woman seven years ago. As a
result of this despicable act, the girl took her life. Her blood is on his
hands and he makes no apology. H-h-he speaks about it as though it was
a
m-m-misdemeanour—an unfortunate lapse in judgment!”

“
Shh
,
shh
, keep your voice down. They will not allow us to speak
with one another if we show any upset. There now.
Calmly
.
I believe you, never
fear. There are men walking free with such blood on their hands, it would
shatter the world if it was known. Well, then. Your father raped a girl and you
witnessed the act. You have told me and I believe you. We shall bear witness to
each other in this place. But you must never mention it again, not to anyone.
Not if you wish to get out of here.”

“Laura Mayhew, I will not warn you again,”
Matron said loudly. “If you find it difficult following the rules, perhaps an
ice bath will recall the instruction more readily. There will be silence
walking to and from your rooms.”

“Yes Matron. I shall remember. I was only
welcoming our new guest. She struck me as being rather nervous and I hoped to
put her at her ease.”

Matron laughed. “You hoped to put her at
her ease, did you? You are not in the Queen’s service now, Miss Laura. To your
rooms, ladies, and have a pleasant night.”

Laura Mayhew cast a last lingering glance
at Clara before vanishing into her cell. “Remember what I told you.”

CLARA STOOD in the middle of her room, a cell of grey and
green and fought down terror. She was not mad—no matter what they did to her.
The trouble was they could do anything they liked to her and she could not stop
it. They would not hear the truth and she could not lie.
Best
not to speak at all.

She felt a sigh near her ear and closed her
eyes.

“I am
Grace Reilly.
Branson Reilly’s wife.”

“You are not real. Go away.” In this place
everyone talked to themselves.

“It
is R-R-Reilly on the marriage license. And it is R-R-Reilly recorded in the
book in the county registrar’s office. Mr. and Mrs. Branson Reilly were married
on the eleventh of September in this very chapel seven years ago.”

Clara’s mind ticked over this
half-forgotten remark pulled up from the depths of her subconscious.
The ravings of a dead woman, or so she thought.
But even spirits
leave their finger marks on the living.
Records of their
births, marriages—and deaths.

Even when I hurt him.
Sometimes I have to hurt him.

“Don’t hurt him,” she said, just in case
the entity could hear her.

She allowed herself to think about him for
just a moment. To dwell on him too long would only cause her pain, but a little
spell could do no harm. Imagining Branson was near her had a calming effect.
Clara recollected him barging into the ballroom, his dark blue eyes hunting her
out, and that split second when they saw each other and were truly happy.

“No, it was not just happiness,” she said
aloud. “It was something more. It was as though I could breathe again because
he was near me.”

How terrible life would be if she had to go
through it without her shadow self. Miss Delisle did not credit the notion of
soul mates. Perhaps she was right. Branson Hamilton did not have a soul that a
decent woman would choose to mate with her own.

And yet
.

She did choose him. There, in the bowels of
Gateshead Asylum for the Insane, Clara chose Branson Hamilton.

She spoke the words cautiously. “I, Clara
Hamilton, take thee Branson Hamilton to be my husband until death parts us.”

The lights went out, extinguished by a
central control. Clara was plunged into dark. Shrieks and wails rose and
drifted down the hall, echoing against the tiles.
A cacophony
of mad noise, senseless and persistent.

“I love you Branson. I will not give way,”
she said softly as she lay down on the cot. “I will not surrender.”

To Be Continued...

§

Next in WINDEMERE HALL:
Beguiled

Clara Hamilton’s daring rescue at the hands
of Branson Hamilton leads to a shocking revelation that shatters her hope for
their love. With nowhere to turn, Clara accepts Mrs. Brockville’s offer to join
a shooting party at Petherham Manor that includes Strachan and his bitter
fiancée, Trudy Delisle. But Windemere Hall is only a short distance away and
Clara cannot stop thinking about its master, her enigmatic, haunted cousin
Branson.

§

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