Frances stopped him. “Sally, can you leave us alone for a moment?”
The maid scurried off, muttering a string of apologies as she did.
Now that they were alone, Frances finally turned to Christopher. She was not sure how to break the news to him but realized that it was important that she did.
“There’s more, Christopher. Sally just told me… the Dowager Duchess planned the accident that killed Peter and Lydia.”
Christopher froze, his eyes widening in shock. “What?”
“She wanted to separate them. It was supposed to just be Lydia, but Peter was with her. He wasn’t supposed to die.”
A maelstrom of emotions crossed Christopher’s face—shock, anger, grief.
He clenched his fists, struggling to process the revelation. “That… that’s why she took the boys,” he said slowly, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “She’s trying to control their future, just like she tried to control Peter’s.”
“We can’t let her get away with this. We’ll find the boys and bring them home. And we’ll make sure she answers for what she’s done.”
“I will make sure that my mother is held accountable for this. She thinks that she is above everyone because she has always gotten away with everything. This time, I will make sure that justice is served correctly.”
* * *
The carriage was moving fast, and the duo sat in the back in anxious anticipation. It seemed like the journey to Blackwood Hall was interminable.
Christopher was still in shock at what he had learned. He knew his mother was a conniving woman, but even he had never expected her to stoop this low.
The night air was cold and crisp as they rode through the darkened countryside, the horses’ hooves pounding relentlessly against the gravel path leading to Blackwood Hall.
“How will you confront her?”
Christopher steeled himself. “What can I do except demand the truth from her?”
He saw Frances’s gaze soften immediately, and she reached out to grab his hand.
“I am sorry, Christopher. You deserved a mother who looked out for you.”
He let himself relax into her touch. Even though he disliked it when people were sorry for him, it felt different with her.
He did not feel that her words held any kind of pity. If anything, she was full of understanding.
“No use dwelling on what is not under my control,” he admitted. “But I know that I made the right choice by marrying you.”
He saw her expression shift, and then her searching gaze turned to him for confirmation.
“It was a risk that we both took,” she noted.
“But going through this entire ordeal with you”—he leaned back into his seat—“has been very enlightening. You have exceeded my expectations for what I could have ever wanted in a spouse.”
Frances was blushing now. Which felt out of place, given the gravity of their situation. But he could not help but notice just how endearing it was. In fact, he had to stop himself from reaching out and touching her.
“I feel the same way,” she murmured.
The words were on the tip of his tongue, about to slip out. He surprised himself even, because for the first time, it was clear to him.
He was in love with Frances. There was no denying it.
But there was no time to think of his feelings now. The carriage rolled to a halt, signifying their arrival at Blackwood Hall.
Christopher leaped out of the carriage. “Let me go in first.”
