He wanted to hurt her for all the damage she had caused to his family. But she did not seem to show remorse. Quite the opposite.
Her lips curled into a twisted smile. “You finally figured it out,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Yes, I planned it. I wanted to rid us of that maid, Lydia. She was a blight on our family, a disgrace. Peter was supposed to uphold our name, not drag it through the mud for a servant.”
Christopher felt the ground shift beneath him. Even though he had been told by Sally beforehand, he had held out a small morsel of hope that perhaps it was not the complete truth.
But there was no denying it now. His own mother had admitted it.
“You… you killed them,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with disbelief and horror. “Peter wasn’t supposed to be there, was he?”
Teresa’s smile faltered, but her eyes remained cold and unyielding. “No, he wasn’t,” she admitted. “But he refused to leave her side. He was always too weak, too sentimental. It was supposed to set him free, to bring him back to his senses. But he died with her, and all my plans were ruined.”
Christopher staggered back.
His mother, the woman who had birthed him, had orchestrated the deaths of his brother and Lydia. And now she had taken his nephews, driven by the same twisted need for control.
“You’ll pay for this,” he hissed. “You’ll pay for everything.”
Teresa’s eyes narrowed, her voice filled with cold resolve. “You can’t prove anything. And you won’t find the boys. They’ll be gone before you can reach them.”
Christopher’s rage flared again, and he grabbed her arm, pulling her towards the door. “We’ll see about that,” he said, his voice a low growl. “You’re coming with me.”
“Unhand me, Christopher! You have no right?—”
“I have every right,” he snapped, dragging her through the hallways towards the entrance. “You will tell me where they are, and you will face justice for what you’ve done.”
As they reached the entrance hall, the large doors swung open, and Frances rushed in, her face pale but determined. Behind her were several constables, their expressions grim and resolute.
“Christopher!” she called out, her voice filled with urgency. “They’re here, the constables. They will take care of this.”
Christopher turned to her, relief washing over him. “Thank God,” he breathed, his grip on Teresa’s arm tightening. “She has confessed. She’s responsible for Peter and Lydia’s deaths. And she took the boys.”
Frances’ eyes widened with shock and horror, but she quickly composed herself, stepping forward to stand beside him. “Take her,” she said to the constables. “She’s a danger to everyone.”
The constables moved forward, taking Teresa from Christopher’s grasp. She struggled against their hold.
“You can’t do this,” she hissed. “I am the Dowager Duchess. I will not be treated like a common criminal.”
“You’ve brought this on yourself,” Christopher said coldly, watching as the constables restrained her. “You will answer for your crimes.”
As the constables led her away, Teresa cast a final, venomous look at Christopher and Frances.
“You’re all fools,” she spat. “This family is doomed, and you’ll see it fall apart before your eyes.”
Christopher’s expression was hard, but he didn’t respond. He watched until she was out of sight, then turned to Frances.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, pulling her into a tight embrace. “This would not have been possible without you.”
Frances clung to him. “We are not done yet. There is still something we must do.”
The constables had begun to search the premises. One of them called out from the top of the stairs, “I believe we have found the room she was keeping the children in.”
Christopher’s heart felt like it would leap out of his throat. He and Frances shared a look, before they bolted upstairs.
The constable, a burly man with a sympathetic expression, stepped aside, gesturing towards a heavy oak door at the end of the hall. “Through here,” he said, his voice softening. “We heard voices inside.”
Christopher reached out and grasped the door handle, his hand trembling. He paused, looking back at Frances, who nodded encouragingly, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
Drawing a deep breath, he turned the handle and pushed the door open.
