Haslemere had never been one to indulge a sulk, and he didn’t do so now. “No, you’ve been worse. We both know you’re not going to let her go, so why not get her now, and put us both outof our misery?”
“She lied tome, Haslemere.”
Haslemere rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. She lied to you, entered your home under false pretenses, and pretended to be someone she wasn’t. What of it? I lied to you, too, and it hasn’t stopped you from drinking all my port.”
That caught Gideon’s attention. “Youlied to me? When?”
Haslemere dropped his booted feet onto the leather ottoman in front of his chair. “I told you I didn’t know who Cecilia Gilchrist was, and I did. The moment I heard her name that first morning, I knew she was one of Lady Clifford’s girls.”
Gideon gave him an incredulous look. “Youknew? Why the devil didn’t you tell me whoshe was, then?”
“Because I didn’t want you to send her away. Lady Clifford sent Cecilia to find out the truth about Cassandra’s death. I knew you didn’t murder your wife, so I decided to let Cecilia go about her business and proveyou innocent.”
“You put a remarkable amount of faith in the Clifford School,” Gideon grumbled.
“I had a bit of a tangle with one of Lady Clifford’s girls myself—impertinent little chit named Georgiana Harley. Dreadful nuisance of a girl with a tongue that smarts like a whip, but not lacking in wit. She despises me,” Haslemere added, an oddly satisfied grin crossing his lips. “In any case, I was right about Cecilia. No one in Edenbridge is calling you the Murderous Marquess anymore, are they?”
It was true. The villagers who’d helped contain the fire had seen Leanora in her white gown and wig when her lifeless body was removed from the castle. The rumors of the notorious White Lady had come to an end after that, and with it the worst of the gossip about the Murderous Marquess.
There would always be people who believed he was guilty—nothing would change that—but there were more of them who believed him innocent now, and they were willing to shame those who continued to spread the rumors.
Cecilia had done that for him, had fought to prove his innocence. She’d kept prodding, kept digging until she got to the truth, so far buried beneath the rubble Gideon had long since despaired of it ever coming to light.
Everything had changed when Cecilia came to Darlington Castle.
It would have been the easiest thing in the world for her to simply declare him guilty and be done with it. Everyone else in England had, and when she arrived at Darlington Castle, she’d had every reason to believe hewas a murderer.
But she hadn’t. She’d believed inhim. How many times had he dismissed her from his service? Twice, three times? Yet she’d hung on, and somehow, between dropping the coal scuttle and singing those dreadful lullabies, she’d made everyone love her.
Isabella, Amy and Mrs. Briggs, Duncan and Fraser, and…
Him. She’d made him love her.
Haslemere gave him a reproving look. “In case you’ve forgotten, Cecilia did just as she was sent to Darlington Castle to do. She uncovered the truth.”
Gideon squirmed under the rebuke. Hehadn’tforgotten. How could he? Cecilia had set him free from the vicious rumors that had plagued him since Cassandra’s death. The lies she’d told him were nothing against all she’ddone for him.
He was in love with her—madly, deeply so. There was only one reason he’d let the woman he adored walk out of his life, and it had nothing to do with a few meaningless lies.
“Let’s have it out, shall we, Darlington?” Haslemere’s voice was quieter now, and, for all that he disliked coddling the tenderer emotions, gentle. “I told you, you forget how well I know you. You didn’t send Cecilia away because she lied to you. Why don’t you tell me the real reason?”
Haslemere already knew, of course. He knew Gideon well enough to have guessed it. He’d simply been waiting for Gideon to say it aloud. “Leanora murdered my wife and son, Haslemere. Poisoned them inourhome, rightunder my nose.”
Haslemerenodded. “Yes.”
“I knew who Leanora was,whatshe was. I should have seen what was happening and put a stop to it, but somehow, I didn’t. I let my wife and son die.”
Haslemere was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Look at me, Darlington.”
Gideon looked, half afraid of what he’d see, but Haslemere’s face was full of compassion. “Youdidn’tknow who Leanora was. You knew she was selfish and erratic, even devious, yes, but you didn’t know she was mad. You didn’t know she was amurderer.How could you?”
Gideon wanted it to be true, wanted it more than anything, but he wasn’t sure he could ever make himself believe it. “I failed Cassandra, Haslemere. I failed both her and my son. I didn’t take care of them. What if…what if I failCecilia, too?”
Haslemere let out a deep sigh. “You didn’t fail anyone, Darlington. What happened was a tragedy, but it wasn’t your fault. Do you think Cassandra would want you to spend the rest of your life alone, punishing yourselffor her death?”
“No.” After Cecilia left Darlington Castle, Gideon had found what remained of Cassandra’s diary buried in the rubble. Most of it had burned in the fire, but he’d read enough of the few singed pages that remained to remind him Cassandra had loved him as much as he’d loved her. His happiness had been as important to her as her own.
Somehow, in all the chaos of her illness and death, he’dforgotten that.
