Bile rises in my throat, knowing that this man violated my sister’s trust and her body. Used her. Used my mother. Used me, for a scapegoat, so that he might continue his disturbing experiments after Rebecca’s death unchecked.
“Do you know what the French call the paroxysmal crisis?La petite mort.The little death. SoIthought, if Rebecca’s levels of arousal peaked after reaching crisis, how much more might they rise if she believed her life was in peril?” He grins wickedly. “So I entered the second phase of my experiment. I began choking her to the point of unconsciousness during stimulation. Her blood sang with elevated humors!” This man was no doctor, driven by goodwill. He was a sadist who reveled in inflicting pain and fear. And we’d never known. Not until the week of her death, when I witnessed his abuse of Rebecca myself. Why did shenever tell us? Was she afraid we wouldn’t believe her? Did she truly feel he was helping her, until the point it became unendurable?
Looking back now, there were signs. The high-necked gowns she favored in the last year of her life, probably to hide the bruises he left on her skin. The nightmares. Her insistence on my presence when he came for house calls.
I hold back a sob, doing my best to harness my fear. My anger. Kate squeezes my hand and I glance at her. Tears glisten in her eyes, too.
“I was going to test your blood, too, my dear. That night, at the Kincaid party, you almost fooled me with your auburn wig and Scottish accent. You were going to be my next conquest, after Arabella. And then I recognized those violet eyes. Just like your mother’s.”
I push aside my guilt over Rebecca and face him full-on, my rage a cold fire. “Well, now you have me. Do whatever you like.”
“Oh, you’re of no use to me medically. But I do have to kill you. You know too much. And then I’ll go elsewhere, with Katherine at my side. Set up a new practice in another town. I have everything I need to continue my work.”
Anger floods through me. “You bastard.”
“You’re right about that,” he says, laughing. “I was a whore’s son. But I lifted myself quite well, I’d say.”
“Our father would be ashamed of what you’ve become, Lionel,” Kate says, her voice shaking. “You’ve used the skills he taught you for evil. Broken your oath. I won’t go with you. I won’t leave Lillian.”
“You’re a fool, Katherine. My discoveries will change the world. Men will praise me as a god of medicine. If you won’t come with me, I’ll have to kill you. Is that really what you want?”
I slide my foot toward Kate, cueing her to step away from me. I glance behind me. The rusted railing is just beyond my fingertips. Inches from my back. The wind picks up and hard rain begins to fall, pelting my face with cold droplets. “They won’t praise you, Broadbent,” I taunt. “You’ll be reviled as the murderer you are. You’re a monster. A predator. My mother knows what you did. I put it all together, sittingin her parlor this afternoon. She’s going to the authorities.” It’s a lie, but I need to inflame his rage. Need to make him charge me, like a maddened bull.
He laughs. “She won’t betray me. She’s destitute. A pariah. And if she does go to the authorities?” He shrugs. “She’ll be easily disposed of as well.”
The rain is falling in sheets now, half obscuring him from view. But I don’t need to see him to fire my final poisoned arrow. My heart gallops, but I will my voice to steady.
“I don’t think there was anything special or different about my sister’s blood. Or any of the others. I think it was only an excuse for your violence. So, tell me, Doctor, why it is that you must inject the blood of a frightened woman in order to become aroused? Do you lack the will and ability on your own?”
“You sharp-tongued little cunt,” he snarls.
I laugh, knowing it will agitate him further. “So, it’s true, then! You’re impotent.”
He lunges, hurtling toward me. At the last possible second, I shift to the left. Broadbent slips on the wet tar roof, stumbling forward. Just as I hoped, he puts out his hands to catch himself on the railing. But it’s too late. His height, his weight, and the slippery roof all conspire to send him careening forward. With a screeching groan, the rusted railing gives way, and Broadbent plummets with a scream. Kate rushes to my side, and together, we peer over the edge of the roof. Broadbent lies crumpled on the ground, four stories below, his leg twisted, his eyes open to the weeping sky as a pool of blood slowly spreads beneath his head.
Kate leans into me, sobbing. I close my eyes, my whole body shaking. I’ve just killed a man. Yes, it was in defense. Yes, he deserved his fate. He murdered and abused and violated countless women. But I’m sobered all the same. My innocence is gone. I’m now the murderer I was always accused of being.
The rain continues all night and well into the next day. Kate and I hole up inside the house until the storm passes, and then together, after nightfall, we drag Broadbent’s body into the marsh at high tide. The swollen waters and the alligators will do the rest. If anything remains of him to be discovered, by that time, we’ll be long gone.
But as we resume our preparations to leave, and go together to purchase new tickets for our departure, my resentment builds instead of diminishing. Though Kate claims she didn’t know Broadbent was the killer until recently, I can’t be sure whether she’s lying. And she definitely knew he was the killer before we performed our act. I remember the nights she went out as Varina, supposedly to private parties. Was she meeting Broadbent instead? She endangered my life by luring him here. If I hadn’t gone to town, and had been here when she came home with him, how differently would things have played out? As it was, they both waited in ambush for me. Kate’s plans could have gone wrong at any point. Despite her claims of revenge, it doesn’t add up. Not completely. And while I understand why she wanted him dead, why she wanted vengeance, she still took his money and agreed to murder me.
Did sheeverlove me, or was our affair merely another one of her acts? She ravished me, made me soft with her tears, her pronouncements of love. Then she used my submissive nature and my eagerness to please to her advantage. On the night of our performance, her unearthly coldness was almost demonic. Was she tempted to see it through, as Broadbent had asked her to? Would she have killed me? Had her dominance over me been a prerequisite to murder, a way to lower my defenses?
I’ll always wonder, but I’ll never ask her these questions. She’s a phenomenal actress and a practiced liar who will only tell me what I want to hear. But everything that’s happened has reframed my memories of our love. Her deception has destroyed my ardor, and I’m grateful we’ve been too occupied with our travel preparations for her to make any intimate overtures. Still, I pretend that everything is fine. I indulge Kate’s excitement over our journey. We don’t talk about Broadbent, or what happened, but I’m afraid. Afraid that someone will notice he’sgone missing and start asking questions. There’s no doubt that it’s time to leave Angel’s Rest, and Charleston. But as the hours grow nearer to our departure, I’m filled with apprehension.
The next morning, I dress and sit on the foot of our bed, watching Kate tie her cravat. She sees me in the mirror and turns to me, smiling serenely. “When we get to London, we’ll marry as soon as we can find a magistrate. I’ve had all the paperwork drawn up, declaring that I’m Alexander Mayhew. Baptism certificates and the lot. No one will ever know I was once Katherine O’Malley. But first, we’ll need to find a place to live. With Broadbent’s money, we can afford a nice flat.”
The money he gave you for agreeing to kill me.
I only smile. “That sounds lovely.”
She crosses the room, cradling my face in her hands. “We’re finally going to live the life we’ve always wanted. Together.”
As we row away from Angel’s Rest, I watch it grow smaller and smaller, until I can only glimpse the widow’s walk over the tops of the trees. Leaving is bittersweet, but overdue. I think of Papa. Mother. Rebecca. My childhood years. I’ll have to leave all of it behind. Construct a new past, a new future. One bigger than myself. One with true purpose, even if I’ll have to tell a few lies along the way and carry my scars with me forever. Kate strokes the oars steadily and evenly as we cut through the marsh. I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of birdsong. I inhale the scent of jasmine hanging in the briny air. I hold out my hand and let it brush through the green, tender spartina. I savor every moment I have left here. I think of Ruby, and Noah, and the first time I ever saw Kate. This place is magical and generous. It saved me. It showed me freedom and who I truly was.
Freedom.Something everyone deserves.
When we reach Haddrell’s Point, Kate moors our rowboat and offers her hand to help me out. We walk to the steamer office, where Kate gives the porter our bags. I didn’t pack everything in mine. I’ve kept my pouch of jewelry, money, and the remaining fishing hook, twine, and matches Ruby gave me in my pockets instead.
