A Countess in Her Own Right

by Fanny Walsh

  “What of the fire in the teahouse?” Mary asked, fighting the bile rising in her throat. “Many innocent people would have died with me.”

  “Collateral damage, my dear,” he said. “That was a chance I was willing to make.”

  “But you, too, could have perished,” she said.

  Kent laughed heartily.

  “Oh, you really are daft, are you not?” he said. “I went into the establishment on many occasions, locating all the exits and windows. And I ensured that I was safely out of harm’s way moments before the fire started.”

  Mary realized then just how dire her situation was. Her uncle was willing to kill without remorse. Worst of all, she believed that he just might get away with it.

  Another horrific idea sprang to Mary’s mind. Her stomach knotted once again as she spoke.

  “It was you who killed Beatrice’s father, was it not?” she asked. She knew that Duncan suspected Theodore, and it had been Theodore’s knife that was used to kill him. But suddenly, Mary thought that they had been very wrong.

  “The authorities found evidence of Theodore Winstanley’s blade on the body,” Kent said nonchalantly. “There was absolutely nothing implicating me in that murder.”

  Her uncle’s words were cool, but his eyes were sparkling. Suddenly furious, Mary asked him again.

  “Did you kill him and try to frame Theodore?” she asked. She wanted to hear her uncle say it, even if it did make her feel ill. Beatrice deserved the truth, if Mary were to survive this ordeal.

  “I killed the man,” Kent said. “Theodore’s implication in the crime was a happy coincidence.”

  “Uncle, he was a good, innocent man,” Mary said, not believing what she heard. “Why would you kill him?”

  “Because he was an innocent man who was about to get me hemmed up for the fire,” her uncle said in a tone that implied that Mary should have known that, and that she should be sympathetic to his plight.

  “How?” Mary asked, growing more incredulous by the minute. “He was not a member of the authorities. He had no legal ground on which to accuse you.”

  Kent shook his head, looking at Mary as though she were a simple child.

  “Of course, he was not,” he said. “But he was beginning to suspect my involvement in the matter and went poking around where he had no business doing so. He was close to uncovering the truth, upon which he surely would have attempted to report me. That, I could not abide.”

  “Could you not have simply bribed him for his silence?” Mary asked, already knowing and fearing the answer.

  “There is but one sure way that a man can be certain of another man’s silence,” Kent said, boasting. “And I saw to it that he would be silent forever.”

  Mary stared at her uncle in horrified silence.

  “You are a monster,” Mary said at last, her eyes filling with tears.

  “And I am soon to be a very important, very rich monster,” Kent said with another sickening laugh. Then, he lunged at Mary.

  Mary struggled against her uncle as he tried to get his arms around her waist. She kicked and tried to swing her arms, but she was no match for her uncle’s size and strength.

  Within moments, Kent had grabbed her, with her arms pinned at her sides, and dragged her to the window of her bedroom. He was trying to position her on the balcony’s edge.

  Mary looked down at the ground below and her dreams, and her last fall from the balcony, came crashing down on her. She became paralyzed with trauma and fear.

  “Let me go!” she cried. She was quickly losing hope that she would make an escape. And she knew that, if he successfully bent her over the balcony’s edge, it would be her end.

  She began struggling against her uncle again, furiously wriggling and straining to break free. With each failed attempt, her uncle laughed maniacally.

  “It is no use, my dear,” he said. “Why do you not just accept your fate and die with a little dignity?”

  “Please, Uncle, you do not have to do this,” she said. She hoped to appeal to any kinship he might have ever felt for her, if any such thing even existed. “I will give you the money and the title, just please do not kill me.”

  Her uncle hesitated, his grip lessening just a little. For one moment, Mary felt a surge of hope. She stopped struggling, hoping that she had stricken a change of heart in her uncle.

  Kent took a step back from the balcony, dragging Mary with him. At first, Mary truly believed that he was seriously considering her offer. Then, her eyes met his, and she saw the malice in them.

  “I am afraid it is too late for that, Mary,” he said. “Besides, this way is much more dramatic, don’t you think?”

  Mary’s heart sank. She knew then that there was nothing resembling humanity in her uncle. He was a cold, calculating beast who would trample anyone who got in the way of what he wanted.

  “You will never get away with this,” Mary said, although she was now sure that he would.

  “Of course, I will,” he bellowed cheerfully. “After you attempted to take your own life, and with everything you have been through these last months, there is not a single person who would doubt your cause of death. They will simply believe that you succumbed to the melancholy that has tormented you since the deaths of your poor parents and brother.”

  “Not everyone will believe that,” she said, thinking of Beatrice and Duncan. For a moment, she considered pointing that out to her uncle, but his next words stopped her cold.

  “Then I shall have to dispose of them, too,” he said. “We cannot have anyone hiring another pesky investigator and finding out the truth, can we?”

  Mary’s blood ran cold.

  “Another investigator?” she asked. “Have you killed Mr. Langdon, as well?”

  “No,” her uncle said. “But once I am done with you, he will be next.”

  Mary felt herself swoon. Her friends were all in terrible danger now, and she would likely not be around to warn or help them. Her uncle’s grip around her waist tightened again, and for a moment she thought she might vomit.

  Of all the ways her uncle could have chosen for her to die, she could not imagine one that would be worse than this.

  Her mind raced, and she tried to think of something else to say to vie for time.

  “Kill me, if you must,” she said, her voice weak and trembling. “But do not harm anyone else. Take the money and leave the county. No one can look for you if they do not know where you are.”

  Her uncle chuckled again.

  “And give up the title I have worked so hard to earn?” he asked incredulously. “No, my dear, I am afraid that will not do.”

  A new idea sprang to Mary’s mind, and she once again allowed herself to feel a thread of hope.

  “What of my servants?” she asked. “They will know that I did not take my own life. And you cannot dispose of them all without raising suspicions.”

  Kent seemed to take this into serious consideration. Then, he smiled. Mary thought to herself that it was the most grotesque expression she had ever seen on a human face, and she shuddered.

  “Perhaps you are right,” he said. “But how many of them do you think would refuse a large severance pay in exchange for their silence?”

  Again, dizziness overcame Mary as she realized that her uncle was right. She had always treated her servants well, but none of them would risk their lives by reporting her uncle, especially if there was a large sum of money being offered.

  Susan’s face then came to Mary’s mind. She knew, beyond all doubt, that Susan would likely remain loyal to Mary and refuse her uncle’s blood money. However, she also knew that, should she do so, she would probably never again be safe. Her uncle would not hesitate to kill Susan, and Mary could not bear such a terrible thought.

  Kent pulled her back toward the balcony’s ledge, and panic overtook Mary. She used the last of her strength to resume her struggle against her uncle. Just as before, her attempts were useless.

  At last, Mary made a decision. If
she were going to die, she would do her best to take this evil monster she once loved so dearly with her. That way, he could do her friends no harm after she was gone.

  As Kent began to shove her over the edge, Mary clasped onto him. She knew she was not strong enough to pull him over with her, but she hoped to knock him off balance and render him incapable of preventing himself from falling.

  “Let go of me, you retched girl,” Kent growled. Mary saw fear creep into her uncle’s eyes, and for a moment, she thought she would be successful. Then, Kent braced himself against the ledge and regained his balance.

  At that moment, Mary realized that she had failed, and would fall to her death alone.

  Time seemed to freeze as Kent held Mary precariously over the ledge. Mary realized that her uncle had won, and that in mere seconds, she would fall to the ground below. Her vision began to swim, blackness creeping up around its edges. At that moment, she prayed she would faint, so that perhaps she would not feel the impact.

  She closed her eyes.

  In those moments, which felt like an eternity, many thoughts flooded Mary’s mind. Although she had reached the understanding that she was about to die, fear was not her foremost emotion. Sadness and longing filled her pounding heart, effectively dulling the edges of the fear she had felt up to this point.

  She thought of her father’s business. She had just begun making real progress toward helping it become as prosperous as it had been when he was alive. There was still much progress to be made, but she had at last started gaining some confidence that she would, in time, have the ability to see the business goals to fruition.

  She had hoped to even take part in some of the business trips, not only to oversee the business ventures, but also to travel a little. She had only not done more traveling up to this point because of her leg, but with Duncan’s confidence in the procedure he had suggested, she had begun to believe that such travel would soon be possible.

  Oh, Duncan…

  Duncan’s face came to mind, and a quiet sob escaped her throat. She remembered the pain she had felt at overhearing his conversation with his father, but at that moment, that did not matter to her.

  She realized, with full clarity, how much she truly loved him. She would have given anything in the world to see him once more, to talk to him, if only to tell him that she forgave him for what she heard and to confess her feelings for him.

  She felt foolish for being so upset that she did not attempt to talk to him about that conversation, because she was suddenly quite sure that there was more to it than just what she had heard.

  Now, because of her pigheadedness, the wedding about which they had both been so happy, the life they planned to have together, would never come to pass. She prayed that Duncan would find another woman to love and have the family and life that she herself would never have.

  She thought then about her mother, father, and brother. How utterly devastated they would be if they could see the events that were now unfolding. She knew that they could never have imagined, any more than she could have, who and what her uncle really was.

  However, she could not help but feel more than a little shame at her ineptitude. If, in fact, any of them could have seen through her uncle’s behavior, it would have been her father, and she had always thought of herself as being strong and astute like he was.

  She said another silent prayer that her family would forgive her misguided judgment and misplaced trust.

  Mary’s eyes flitted open briefly, and more hot tears streamed down her face as she realized that she may very well soon get the opportunity to plead for their forgiveness. She smiled, closing her eyes once more as she envisioned embracing her parents and brother.

  She was suddenly very sure that they would not blame her for not being able to see the kind of man her uncle was, and that they would welcome her with loving, open arms. For a moment, Mary felt at peace with her impending death, relieved that the suffering she had endured since their demises would soon reach its end.

  Yet, even as the newfound peace settled over her, Mary could not shake an intense tugging at her mind and heart. It was not fair that she should be deprived of all the things she still very much wanted out of life.

  She should be able to marry Duncan and have children with him. With his help, she should be able to see her father’s business blossom as it once did, and travel to distant places. She should not have all these dreams so brutally taken from her.

  No, she thought. This is not how my life should end. Not now, not yet. Please, God, allow me to live. Deliver me from this. Give me the chance to do all the things I have yet to do. Please, give me an opportunity to tell Duncan how much I…

  Suddenly, she felt herself being dragged forward. Her eyes flew open and she saw the raw shock on her uncle’s face. The blackness in her vision began to fade, and she saw that Kent seemed to be getting dragged himself.

  She blinked, trying to focus on the space behind her uncle. Someone, or something, was pulling her uncle back into the room. While her uncle maintained his grasp on Mary, the unseen person was successfully moving the pair slowly away from the ledge.

  With a thud, her uncle lost his balance and hit the ground, and she landed directly on top of him.

  The impact with the floor stunned her uncle, and he at last relinquished his grip. Before Mary could begin scrambling to get away from, she felt strong, gentle hands pulling her away from the man.

  Only when she was safely out of her uncle’s reach did Mary dare to look up. When she did, she saw Duncan’s pale, sweaty face.

  She let out a cry of relief. Tears spilled from her eyes, and she allowed his hands to steady her as she cried. She had never been happier to see him than she had been in that moment, all unpleasantness and pain forgotten as relief washed over her in waves.

  She noticed, too, that there was a measure of relief on Duncan’s face as he looked her over. Their eyes met, and Mary saw without a doubt that he was thankful she was alive.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, panting.

  Mary did not realize she was still trembling until Duncan put his hand on her arm. She could not speak, but she nodded. Then, over Duncan’s shoulder, she saw her uncle stir. His daze caused by hitting the ground had dissolved and he was quickly getting to his feet.

  “Duncan!” Mary cried, pointing behind him.

  Without hesitating, Duncan whirled around, simultaneously pushing Mary behind him and positioning himself between her and her uncle.

  “Hillington, do not take one more step,” Duncan warned.

  Chapter 32

  Duncan was relieved to see that Mary was alive. However, it was clear that the danger was far from ended. It was clearer still that Kent Hillington would not just leave now that Duncan had arrived and never return.

  Duncan backed toward Mary, not daring to take his eyes off of Kent Hillington. Only once he was standing beside her did he risk a glance at her. He put his arm around Mary’s shoulders, which were trembling violently.

  “Are you injured?” Duncan asked again.

  “No,” she murmured, tears streaming down her cheeks. Duncan, keeping himself placed squarely between Mary and her uncle, looked her over quickly.

  She did not appear to have any bruises or scratches, and her ability to move, although she was shaky, meant that she likely did not have any broken bones. She was undeniably frightened, but otherwise unharmed.

  Kent seemed to take the temporary distraction as his opportunity to get to his feet again. Duncan saw him and quickly turned his head toward the man.

  “Do not take another step,” Duncan warned.

  “Or else what?” Kent asked, smirking.

  Rage bubbled up inside Duncan.

  “The authorities are on their way,” Duncan said. “And when they arrive, you will be arrested.”

  Kent scoffed and took a cautious step forward.

  “Based on what? The word of a woman?” he laughed. “Or, on the word of a man who everyone knows is bound f
or Bedlam before the age of forty?”

  At this, Kent howled with laughter. Duncan blanched, and he ached to push the man from the balcony before the authorities could arrive.

  Believing he had sufficiently stunned Duncan, Kent lunged at Mary again. Duncan saw with horror that this time, he was moving toward her with a gun in his hand. He must have fished it out of his pocket while he was on the ground and Duncan was assessing Mary.

  “Hide,” Duncan said to Mary, quickly pushing her out of the room. Mary squeezed Duncan’s arm, then ran. Then, Duncan faced Kent. He grabbed the gun and pointed it in the air just as Kent squeezed the trigger.