anger so fierce that the very devil shot through my veins, I picked up the bloodied candlestick and knocked the evil bastard dead.
No other mother would lose her son again.
I hid in the forest, crying like a madwoman.
When I returned to the church, the candlestick had gone. My heart was in my mouth. The police had yet to arrive.
I tried to imagine what might have happened to the incriminating weapon. My fingerprints and Milly’s were stamped all over it. Taking a deep breath to still my nerves, I returned to the page.
One week later, Harry hung himself. And it was my fault. The police had spoken to him, and then my son disappeared. I should have owned up to it. But I was too weak. In the end, as you know, they closed the case.
When Sir William told me one day that you’d saved his life, I knew I had to act, even though your mother had sworn me to secrecy.
Mary was like a younger sister to me. We both had had husbands who bashed us. She was pregnant with you the same time that I carried Harry.
She was a very beautiful woman, so it didn’t surprise me that Sir William had taken a fancy to her. Your mother told me that she’d been Sir William’s lover for many years, even while living with that savage man, who you thought was your father.
I couldn’t judge either Sir William or your mother harshly. They’d both married badly. Sir William was a handsome man with black hair and deep-blue eyes. I never understood why Lady Catherine ended up in the arms of Gareth Wolf, that scruffy gardener.
Sir William wanted to marry your mother, but imagine the scandal, given that her husband was in prison.
One day, she confessed that you were Sir William’s son. I should have guessed. You both had the same eyes.
The blood drained from my face. Sir William, my father? My father was the refined, elegant man who I’d admired for all those years, not that brute languishing in prison.
I opened the window and yelled. It burst out of me like an exorcism. My heart thundered. But it wasn’t enough. Blood raged through me, so I grabbed the pillow, smothered my face in it, and cried my guts out.
Relief, frustration—an overflow of colliding emotions spewed out of me onto that pillow. After I got that out of my system, I filled a glass with whisky and drank it with the thirst of a man possessed.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I picked up the journal and continued reading.
I managed to convince Mary to tell Sir William that you were his son. That was the same day that Lady Catherine, who’d been drinking heavily, told Dylan, in front of me and one other, that his father was Gareth Wolf.
It was then that I decided to collect a strand of your hair and Dylan’s for concrete proof. Mainly for legal reasons so that you would inherit what was rightfully yours.
Sir William cried. He kept asking your mother why she’d waited so long. On his own admission, they were tears of relief. He’d always seen good in you and evil in Dylan.
On his deathbed, Sir William told Mary he’d changed his will. The DNA test and a testimony by the cook sat with the solicitor. Should Dylan have contested the will, he would have incriminated himself.
As for Lady Catherine, Sir William left her enough to keep her from spitting vitriol.
Your mother came to me the day before her disappearance, making me promise to watch over you. She was only forty, and I told her that she’d be around for a long time. The look on her face contradicted that.
Sir William made me swear on his grave never to reveal that he was your father. I could only assume it was to protect you from Dylan.
Never one to go against my word, I obeyed. Sir William was a good and honest man. I couldn’t have asked for a fairer boss.
But I couldn’t have gone to my grave with such a burdened soul.
I can now rest in peace.
All I ask is that my ashes be scattered in the wood by Raven Abbey.
40
* * *
PENELOPE
HE STOOD BEFORE MY bed like an apparition. I jumped. It was early morning and still dark outside.
“Sorry to startle you like this,” he said.
“What are you doing here, Blake?” I asked, lifting myself up from the bed.
“I had to see you.”
I turned on the lamp. He looked different. His large eyes were