Chapter 19
London, 1820…
"I killed him," Elizabeth whispered, her lips trembling as she spoke and tears slid down her cheeks. "You married a murderer."
His grip loosened on her arms, his face filling with shock then horror before settling on disbelief. She remembered how her father had the same look in his eyes the night he'd come home and realized what had happened.
"No, that isn't what happened," Jason argued, hanging his head as he backed away.
"It is," she said, sucking in a ragged breath. "I killed him."
It was a strange feeling to finally say the words aloudlowed, having forced herself to swallow the truth long ago, swearing to her father that she'd never let the truth leave her lips.
"You're confused," he sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face as he continued to back away. "Elizabeth, you would never-"
"You think so much of me," she interrupted quietly, folding her arms across her middle as if to brace herself up. "But you don't know me at all."
"I know you," he said firmly, his eyes looking her over, searching for that familiarity he was so sure existed. "Elizabeth…" He started to reach out to her but drew his hand back, letting it hang limply at his side. "You couldn't have done this."
"I'm well aware of what I did," she replied, narrowing her gaze in his direction. "You wanted the truth so there it is; you're trying to find the culprit of a murder and that very person is your wife."
"You are lying," he hissed, raking a shaky hand through his hair as he shook his head.
"I've only lied to you once," she argued defensively, "and it was about this, and I knew – I knew all along that eventually-"
"You're covering for someone," he insisted, refusing to listen to her. "Is it Sonny? Or was it someone else?"
"I did it, Jason!" she sobbed, clenching her fists at her sides. "You just don't want to see the truth."
"My wife is not a murderer." He stared at her, his eyes a deep pool of confusion, and she could see him trying to talk himself out of believing her. "I know you. And I know your heart, Elizabeth. You would-"
"People with the purest of hearts do the most awful of things," she whispered, wiping her cheeks with the back of her closed fists.
"You didn't-"
"You're sounding like my father. He was so insistent that I didn't do it – that it had to be someone else -, and eventually he realized I really did." She hung her head exhaustedly, fighting the desire to collapse to the ground in a sobbing heap, but refusingshe refused to do that. She had to face the consequences of what she'd done and if it was Jason taking one final look of disgust at her before he stalked away, then so be it.
It was what she deserved.
"He couldn't even look at me afterwards," she murmured, embarrassed at the amount of tears streaming down her cheeks. "You'll be the same way."
"No," he growled, starting towards her. His hand slipped out and reached for hers, but he pulled it away before he actually touched her. "I won't listen to this."
"Fair enough," she said as he stepped past her, swearing under his breath.
"I won't listen to you until you're ready to tell the truth, Elizabeth."
"Jason, it is the truth," she argued, looking over her shoulder to see him disappear around the trellis, his head in his hands. She clasped her hand over her mouth to muffle her sob as she leaned against the trellis and slowly slid to the ground.
It was worst than she imagined because instead of leaving her, he'd just left her alone.
Jason slammed his full glass of whiskey down on his desk, dropping exhaustedly into the chair as he let out a low groan. His eyes swept over the room, and he swore at the disarray; the thrown books from the shelves, the broken glass scattered across the floor, and the overturned furniture.
He was completely furious; with himself and with what had happened. He'd done the last thing he told himself he would do -; just like he always did when someone said something he didn't want to hear -, he walked away. Elizabeth's sobs followed him the entire way, haunting him as he entered the house where he informed the staff that anyone who so much as camewent near him or his wife would be fired immediately. He then retreated to his study where he played her statements over and over in his mind, focusing mostly on the way she'd wept, and how he'd left her alone.
He was a sorry son of a bitch, and he hated that Jeffrey Webber had trusted him with the most important person in his life. It had only been a matter of time before Jason hurt her more than anyone else could.
Honestly, he was surprised it took this long.
"Sir?"
Jason lifted his eyes from the glass of whiskey to glare at his assistant. "I said I didn't wish to be disturbed. Are you asking to be fired?"
"No, sir," he apologized, his hand tightly wrapped around the doorknob. "I thought you would like to know that Fair Elizabeth – she went to her room after she returned from the gardens, and she only came out a moment ago."
"I didn't ask you to look after her," he hissed, knowing that his wife had only retreated to her room to cry in private.
"I know, but…well, she sought me out and asked if she could see you."
"What?" he asked thickly, slowly pushing himself up from his chair.
"She is waiting at the end of the hall," Spinelli murmured apprehensively, his eyes widening with relief when Jason nodded, granting her admittance to the room. "Very well then."
He swallowed hard as the door closed behind his assistant, turning to face the window, his heart clenching at the thought of looking at her after what he'd done. No wonder the poor woman had been so terrified to tell Jason. – Sshe knew this was how he would react, that he would pull away, but he hoped she would see it was his own anger that sent him running.
He'd known that she killed Lucas Spencer all along; perhaps even from the very moment that he arrived at the Webber home in the city.
Like all things he didn't wish to believe, he merely shoved such assumptions aside, pretending to be baffled when his best friend started to question his wife's abilities. He couldn't imagine that Elizabeth had taken another man's life in an attempt to save her own. It was a hell of a burden to bear – he should know – and someone as innocent and gentile as Elizabeth was would never be able to live with what she'd done.
She shouldn't have to, which was precisely why Jeffrey had taken the blame. He wanted his daughter to have the life she deserved, and while no man in London would so much as touch her for fear of becoming part of the gossip mill, he knew that his old friend would take care of her.
And just maybe Jason would even love her.
"Jason?" He let out a shaky breath at the sound of her soft, velvety voice, turneding slowly to face her. The rims of her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks flushed, and he wondered just how long she'd been crying. Her eyes widened as they looked around the room, landing hesitantly on him, but she didn't look him in the eye. "Your hands."
He dropped his eyes to his hands, not surprised to see they were scratched and scraped in during his determination to destroy everything around him. "It's nothing."
She sighed, opening the door and calling for Spinelli, who Jason imagined was standing guard at the end of the hall. "Could you please bring me some water and bandages? Jason's hurt his hands."
"You don't have to be afraid," he muttered, sitting down on the edge of his desk, his back facing her.
"I'm not afraid of you," she replied quietly, starting across the room, careful to step around the glass and books. "I understand if you don't want to speak to me, but I feel as if I should apologize."
"Apologize?" he asked, tipping his head towards her as she made her way around the desk to stand in front of him.
She nodded, wringing her hands as her eyes settled on his. "I made so many mistakes with you. I fought you simply for the fight, continuing only because I…well, I suppose I liked it – the challenge of not being able to hide inside myself." She swallowed hard. "I – I refused to help you with my father's case."
"You were protecting him," Jason shrugged, tensing up as the door opened and Spinelli appeared. He hurried over to the desk in a hurry, setting down what Elizabeth had asked for, and quietly fleeingd from the room.
Sighing, Elizabeth stepped up beside the desk and pulled the bowl of water across it. "I was protecting him," she agreed, dipping a clean, white cloth into the water. She twisted it in her hands, wringing out the water. "But he wasn't the one who needed protection."
Jason's brow crinkled as he held out his trembling hands, knowing they both needed some kind of distraction. "So much of what I did, – of keeping things from you and giving you a hard time, was about my father," she continued, slipping her hand into his palm as she gently wiped the dried blood from the back of his hand. "That night when we visited my father, he was so happy to hear we were married, and he wanted nothing more than a wonderful life for the both of us. It didn't matter that it was a marriage of convenience and we couldn't stand one another."
She paused as she switched hands, carefully picking a piece of glass from one of his knuckles. "I think I became even more furious after that. I wanted this life that my father had imagined, and I knew I would never have it, which was partly my fault." She set the cloth back on the desk, continuing to hold his hands gently between hers as she looked him in the eye. "I was so set on honoring him and his wishes that I failed to realize I was wrong."
"You're my husband, Jason," she murmured, her eyes welling up with tears. "You've done nothing but take care of me and looked after me, and maybe you did it because it's what a husband is supposed to do."
"No." She raised her eyebrows at him. "Well, maybe at first, but bringing you here and taking care of you – I did it because I wanted to. You needed someone to take care of you, and I made so much of our lives about your father. I didn't think about your feelings until I hurt you-"
"You didn't hurt me," she argued, her eyes softening as she squeezed his hands. "You forced me to face things I wasn't ready for, but…that's not what I'm trying to say." She sank her teeth into her lower lip. "You made the decision to be a husband, and I – I was so intent on being a daughter that I failed as a wife."
"Elizabeth, you didn't-"
"I should have told you the truth from the beginning. I shouldn't have let you marryied me when I had a secret so dark." She shook her head as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I should have told you the truth about what happened that night – that I was the murder-"
"Please." He shook his head, not wanting to hear her call herself anything of the sort.
"I should have honored you., and I failed to do that, and I'm sorry." She carefully lifted a hand to his cheek and stroked it with the back of her fingershand. "And I'm wondering if it is at all possible to start honoring you now."
His eyes fluttered closed beneath her touch and he lifted a hand to rest it over hers, nestling her palm against his cheek. "I won't ask you to relive what happened that night. I know the truth. I think I knew it all along, which is why I was so upset. I shouldn't have left you-"
"You needed to let it sink in," she whispered understandingly. "I'd rather you walk away than to – to just stare at me in disgust."
"Elizabeth…" He hung his head, knowing there was no way to make her understand. "What happened – what you did – he – he attacked you."
"It's more complicated than that," she admitted, sliding her hand from his cheek to his shoulder. "I – I want you to know the truth, Jason. All of it – every ugly detail, but I'm afraid-"
"Nothing will change how I feel," he interrupted, tilting his head to the side to look at her. "Nothing."
"Well…" She hesitated, slowly lowering herself into the chair behind the desk, her hands clenching the arms.
Jason remained like a statue on the edge of the desk, his eyes soft and patient. "Elizabeth, don't do this if you don't-"
"I have to," she interrupted, resting her head against the comfortable back. "You deserve to know since I married you into it." She closed her eyes to hold back her tears, confident that Jason wasn't lying; he would still be here when she finished, but it didn't make this any easier. "All I ever wanted was to marry for love. My father and mother had a whirlwind romance, and I wanted so badly to have just a taste of that. It was the kind of love that bled into the air and consumed you. I could listen to my father talk for hours about her and I knew from the time I was a little girl that it was all I wanted."
"Of course, marriages aren't always that simple." She paused, her lips pulled into a taut frown as she opened her eyes to look at him. "My father used to tease me that only an arranged marriage was the only way to find a suitable man for me because I was so particular. Luc – Lucky and Richard were both suitors. There were others but I didn't take to any as well as I did the two of them, but I soon realized that Richard was…I didn't like the way he looked at me. And Lucky – he – he was everything I ever wanted."
She rolled her head to the side, her eyes falling on the wall across the room. "He was funny and bright, could make me laugh about anything, and he respected my father. With Richard, it was like he always saw himself in some kind of shadow, which I suppose makes sense. After all, my father was the first love of my life." She shyly shifted her eyes back to Jason, blushing when his lips twitched into a smile.
She cleared her throat and continued. "I knew almost immediately that I wanted to marry Lucky. My father respected my decision and Richard was angry, jealous in a way that was terrifying. He never said a word to my father, but Lucky admitted he said things in town, tried to goad him into a fight – but then again, that was only Lucky's word."
It was difficult to keep the facts straight, especially when Lucky had turned out to be the biggest villain of them all. She wasn't sure what type of relationship existed between Richard and Lucky and she supposed it didn't matter now anyway.
"I didn't realize it right away, but Lucky was as insecure as Richard. They're both the kind of men who need to be reminded they are wonderful, which isn't a problem by any means." She shrugged exhaustedly. "Most men like their egos stroked, I'm afraid, but they were so – persistent. Unfortunately, I didn't realize quite how needy Lucky was until it was too late."
She shifted uneasily in her chair and dug her fingernails tightly into the arms as she neared the difficult part. "It was the first snow last winter, which used to be one of my favorite days of the year. The thick, white flakes falling hurriedly from the sky and collecting in heaps – it was always so beautiful, but cold. My father was used to having visitors during bad weather, especially in the winter. He always had hot cocoa and tea ready for anyone who might stop by and that night was no different."
"Except that a mid-wife was having difficulties with a birth. She sent for my father, and he had to excuse himself from our guests, leaving me to entertain them. He was gone longer than he intended to be, and it made me worry, mostly for the new child and it's mother. Eventually the guests left completely and the help went to bed. Only Sonny was awake when Lucky arrived."
"I'd almost gone to bed. I was heading to my room to change into my nightgown when I heard Sonny talking to Lucky in the foyer, so naturally, I came downstairs. He was the most upset I'd ever seen him, and I didn't realize it right away, but he was extremely drunk. Sonny didn't want to leave us alone, but I asked him to – begged him even, and it wasn't as if we'd never been alone before. My father trusted Lucky, though he probably trusted me more, and he knew I wouldn't allow anything inappropriate to happen."
She closed her eyes as Lucky's face drifted into her mind; his dark eyes and angry sneer. They'd kept her up at night for so long that she didn't even try to push the image away anymore.
"I could see in his eyes that he'd been drinking, but like I mentioned – I – I didn't realize how drunk he was…until it was too late. I led Lucky to the kitchen, thinking food would help. My father had a terrible sweet tooth and our cook always left cakes and cookies out for him at night. Only he didn't want to eat; he wanted to argue."
She stopped, her eyes flashing open when she heard Jason move from the desk to the floor. He settled beside the chair on his knees, slipping a hand into her lap, trying hard to be there for her in some way.
"I'm not exactly sure what happened before he came to my house," she said, feeling surprisingly at ease when Jason linked their fingers together. "I know he saw Richard, and I think Lucky let his insecurities get the best of him. You see, even after I told Richard I wasn't interested, he still hung around, and it drove Lucky mad sometimes."
"He told Lucky you were still interested in him," Jason murmured roughly.
"Yes, and Lucky believed him." She shifted in the chair to turn her body towards him, and he tightened his hand around hers as if afraid she would let go. "He confronted me, practically accused me of leading him on, and I tried to assure him that I had all intentions of marrying him,. tThat plans would start the moment he decided to propose. ButAnd he was just so angry. He started yelling and I became so defensive. One moment he was badgering me and the next I – I hit him."
She shook her head in disgust. "I'd never actually struck someone before, but I was so furious. He acted as if I was some – some whore."
"You aren't," he hissed, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand.
"I know that, and I knew that then, but I was just so upset. No one had ever treated me so horribly." Tears stung her eyes, and she knew the longer she held them in, the worse it would be when they fell, but she felt guilty for crying. She'd put herself and Jason in this position; being upset wasn't fair. "I tried to leave the kitchen, but he grabbed me and wouldn't let go. He said something – something about how he would treat me the way that Richard did if it was what I was so fond of."
"He pinned me against the cabinets and tried to kiss me, and I managed to stomp on his foot hard enough for him to let go." Jason sucked in a breath, his eyes widening, and she knew he was thinking about the kiss she'd told him about just days ago. "I ran away. I was yelling, hoping that anyone would hear, and the closest room with a door was the study, but he was fast and caught up with me before I could close the door. He pulled me to him again, his hands were everywhere, tugging at my skirt…and – and then everything happened so quickly."
"I begged him to calm down. I knew it was the alcohol mixed with too much insecurity – that he wouldn't have hurt me otherwise…" She tried to ignore Jason when he scoffed at her remark. "…he came at me again, and I was trying to get away. I – I fell somehow, against the desk. I tried to pull myself up but he was there and somehow I pulled a drawer from the desk. And then Sonny burst into the room, telling him to leave. I'm not sure who threwough the first punch, but suddenly Sonny was on the floor with Lucky on top of him."
She hung her head when the tears started to fall and pulled her hand from his. "It happened so quickly," she sighed, pushing herself up from the chair. Being close to him when he was trying to comfort her just felt wrong. "I saw the knife on the floor. It was my father's – an old pocket knife. I guess it was in the drawer…Sonny was screaming. No one else in the house came to help. I didn't even think about it as I grabbed the knife."
"Elizabeth…" He moved to stand beside her, but she stepped away before he could touch her.
"It was Sonny," she sobbed quietly, rubbing her hand over her face. "He's been a surrogate father my entire life. I would have done the same thing for my own father."
"No," she cried, when he started to touch her again. She tilted her head in his direction, no longer fighting her tears. "I didn't mean to do it, Jason. He was hitting Sonny…I just - I had to make him stop. So I – I stabbed him…"
She closed her eyes as she clenched her fist, remembering the way the knife fit into her palm, how easily she opened it with her fingers, and just…lunged. He'd cried out so loudly, but didone what she wanted and left Sonny alone, turning around to face her.
"The knife was still in my hand. I don't even know where I cut him or how badly…" She sucked in a breath, her chest heaving as she fought to speak. "He came at me again and I – I just held out the knife and…"
She remembered how warm the blood felt on her hands as Lucky collapsed, pulling her with him to the floor. The way it spread across her fingers,; so red and thick and sticky as his hands wrapped around her wrists, clinging to her as he gasped for breath.
"He bled to death. I stood there and I watched…I tried to stop it. I held my hands over his stomach and screamed for Sonny to help, but – but it was too late. He was dead. He died holding onto me, and it was that very same need to hold onto hemer that cost him his life."
Elizabeth finally let go, her legs giving out beneath her as she collapsed to the floor. "Elizabeth," Jason murmured, slipping his arms around her and pulling her against him. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I killed him, Jason. I took someone's life and-"
"You were protecting yourself. No man should ever put his hands on a woman – not like that," he interrupted, shifting her in his arms and cradling her against him as she cried. The tearsIt weren't wasn't out of fear or sadness over what she'd done, but that she was finally admitting it. "You did what you had to do. He could have hurt you or taken your life." He smoothed his hand over the back of her head, gently rocking her in his arms. "It's okay."
She shook her head and buried her face in his chest as she cried. "Jason, it's not. I – I should have told you. I married you into a lie and if the truth comes out – if – I just – I don't know what will happen now."
"You don't have to worry," he murmured, tightening his arms around her as she lifted her in his arms, slowly moving to his feet. She felt incredibly safe, despite all that had happened, and she wanted to believe that he could make this okay, that he wouldn't hold this against her. "I promised to fix it, and I will."
"Jason, I'm sorry," she cried softly, fisting her hands in his shirt. She curled tightly against him as he opened the door to the study, knowing Spinelli was waiting, that he too would know the truth.
"Shh, it's alright," he whispered, brushing his lips over her forehead. She cringed when he stopped to talk to his assistant. "Spinelli, I'm taking Elizabeth to bed. Make sure that no one disturbs us."