What would he have grown up like? But he will have a chance now with you there. And there is Kendal. He would never have been happy away from his father. He’s a strong, wayward boy. He needed a father. And there’s the Baron he needs you, Kate. He needs you to show him how to live. He didn’t know how to . until he met you. If you left him he would go back to what he was . blustering through life . wasting it, really. No, he needs you more than anyone. And then, my dear, dear Kate, there is you. I look upon you as my daughter. I know I am not much older than you but I married your father. I married into a family . and I look upon it as mine. I am deeply fond of you, Kate. I think more than anything now I want you to be happy with your family . with your work . Oh, life can be so good for you.
You belong together . you and the Baron. You must be together now, otherwise it will all have been in vain. That is what I want. It is the very reason why I did what I did.
I walked out there to meet her. We talked. We looked at the view. It was easy. I just had to touch her and she was gone.
That brings me to my last murder and when you read this it will be done.
Perhaps I should not have interfered. We are not supposed to take life, are we? But whatever I did, I did it for love. I did it to make a better life for people. That must be rather an unusual motive: Love so deep and sincere that it leads to murder.
Be happy with your Baron. Teach him how to live. Kendal, I know, will grow up into a fine strong boy now. And you will do everything you can to make a happy life for little William.
Remember, Kate, all I did was done for love.
I dropped the letter and sat staring into space. Clare had done this!
I could not believe it . and yet looking back everything slipped into place.
My poor Clare, who had always seemed so quietly sane, was sick. Her mind was unbalanced. It must be if she believed that she had the right to take life. And she had believed that.
“It was for their good and the good of others,” she would say. And I could see how she convinced herself of this. It was true that she had cared deeply for others, and she had killed those whom she had loved. How tragic it was! She, Clare, had assumed the Divine power to act and even if she believed it was a benevolent power, she was still a murderess. I wished that she had talked to me. I wished that I could have helped her, made her understand that there are no circumstances when murder must be committed. But it was too late now.
I made my way to the castle.
He was there and I threw myself into his arms.
I said: “I know now. I have it here. I know what happened … exactly. I want you to read this now … to tell me that I am not dreaming.”
He took the letter and I watched the amazement spread across his face as he read.
Then he looked at me, long and steadily, and I wondered how I could ever have thought of leaving him.
We rode out to the ravine together. Clare was lying there with a sweet seraphic smile on her face.
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The Demon Lover Page 38