Chapter Thirty-Five
Arms crossed, Elizabeth adjusted her seat on the wooden barrel. The fire pit emanated some heat, but she doubted it reached Langdon.
After today, I am finding it difficult to trust you.The anger and hurt she carried after his declaration chilled her to the bone. Despair threatened to overwhelm her, but she couldn’t let the hurt stop her from achieving her goal, to escape to safety with Langdon.
It was painful to even contemplate that it was because of her that he was in this horrible situation. After her secret was revealed, a stone rested in the pit of her stomach. His words stung because they were true.
Bradley used another cask as a seat. Unlike her, he had a blanket over his lap. His earlier flattering words disturbed her. He had shown his contempt for her on numerous occasions. The about-face was suspect. “Does my father know about any of this?”
For a second, she was unsure if he heard her. After a few minutes, he turned his head in her direction. An involuntary shiver raced up her spine. Evil lurked in his chilly eyes.
“The old dolt had no clue. He was barely lucid after his nightly medication, which left me hours to review his precious books.” Scorn underlined his words.
After years of being abused by her father, she could imagine why he was bitter. She also knew him to be a gossip, and she played on that weakness to further her own agenda. “How did you find out?” she asked.
“Cook talks to herself when she thinks nobody is listening.” He lifted a flask from his inner pocket and opened the cork.
“How did Idle become involved then?” It had always been a matter of concern for Elizabeth that someone would disclose the truth without realizing it. The scheme had never been foolproof, nor had she ever imagined it would go as far as it had.
“When you sent the letter to Stanton asking about Randell, he ordered Idle to send a man to investigate. Stupid Randell panicked and gave my name. Idle called at the manor when you were at one of the tenant’s. I shared what I knew, and we developed a plan.” He shrugged and crossed his leg over the other.
“Why didn’t you simply blackmail me then?” she asked, keeping one eye on Langdon. Had they cut to the chase, none of this would have happened. She would have escaped to the United States of America and started over. Without Langdon.
“Because we didn’t have all the evidence, just hearsay. By that time, you had been snapping at Randell’s heels, so Idle blackmailed Randell into adding several entries into his journal to frame the Zander company – and you.”
“And Mr. Pike? Did you and Idle kill him?” she asked.
“That was Randell’s work. Idle was furious but...” he shrugged his shoulders and drank from his flask. “Bloke owed money to the wrong people.”
Langdon shifted his position, one leg out, the other bent. He was listening to the entire exchange but remained quiet. The two remaining guards paced the front entrance with rifles. Jocko stood a stone’s throw from Langdon. After their earlier altercation, the scoundrel had skulked around his prisoner. His presence added to her anxiety. He’d hurt Langdon before, and from the looks of it wouldn’t hesitate to do so again.
She wished with all her heart that she could move to his side. Even if he hated her for lying, she still loved him with every breath. “Randell or Pike?”
“Both.”
“My father will wonder where you are.” The more she spoke to Bradley, the more horrified she became. A hundred questions rolled around in her mind. She wanted answers, but she ached to flee even more. It all depended on whether Langdon’s hands were free and he could run when they needed to. Even if they managed to make it to the tunnel leading to the hut, they would have no light to guide them. “He hates it when I am gone for too long.”
“Not this time.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a cruel twist.
Her father treated the servant with more reverence than anyone else in his orbit, which was not saying much given his churlish nature. “He depends on you.”
“Depended. He died last night. Very tragic ending for old Vernon.” He cracked his knuckles, the grotesque grin more pronounced. From the way he stared at her, he gained joy from the announcement. If possible, he was even viler than her father.
The air was squeezed from her lungs and her entire body froze with shock. Air continued to flow inside the cave, but she was suffocating. Unable to sit a second longer, she shot to her feet. Her father was dead. Dead. She could not fathom the fact or the implications behind it. “Tragic? How so?”
“He fell in his drawing room and cracked his skull.”
“What was he doing in the drawing room?” He never went into the room and had forbidden anyone in the household to enter either. She assumed, like the rest of the house, it was in a dismal state. Unless Bradley was lying.
