and roared through her bloodstream. Questions she didn’t want to have, suspicions she didn’t want to believe.
“I am…not surprised,” Abigail said softly. “I knew about her. I knew about all of you.”
Celeste pulled her hand from Pippa’s and crossed to the fireplace, trying hard to measure her breathing as the shock of that admission rushed through her system.
“How long did you know?” Pippa asked.
Abigail shrugged. “I discovered his duplicity a few months after he married Celeste. I was digging into some financials after a creditor demanded immediate payment and I realized Ras had not been paying his debts. I peeled back the layers of this onion.” Her hands began to shake. “This horrible, rotten onion. I discovered all his lies, all his duplicity.”
Celeste watched as Abigail bent her head, as tears slid down her cheeks in silent streams. Her friend’s pain was palpable, rage and betrayal slashed across her face. It mirrored Celeste’s own.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” she asked, choking on every word. “If you knew about us, why didn’t you tell us the truth then?”
Abigail refused to look at either of them. “I was a coward at first, so shocked by his betrayal that I could scarcely move. If it came out, I would be ruined. We would all be ruined. So I hid. I tried to pretend it wasn’t true. I tried to pretend everything would be fine.”
“To protect yourself.” Pippa’s disgust dripped from every word.
“Yes,” Abigail gasped out. “At first I could only think of myself. Then as the shock wore off, I began to see the error of my ways, but I was frozen as to what to do. If I told you both, what would have happened? Exactly what has happened: destruction and ruination and despair. I was trying to uncover the least horrible way to do so when I realized Ras was courting again.”
“Lady Ophelia,” Celeste breathed, and the truth of everything came very clear. “You were the one who wrote the anonymous letter to the duke that set Owen’s investigation in motion.”
“Yes.” Abigail shook her head. “Arse though he may be, Gilmore and his sister didn’t deserve the hell that would be unleashed on them if Ras succeeded again. I wrote and told him to suspect Ras. I thought he might try to keep it quiet for his sister’s sake, that Ras would be stopped or punished, but not revealed. And it all backfired. And he’s dead. And it’s…my fault.”
She sank into the closest chair and put her head in her hands. She wept, not silently like before, but with great heaving sobs that spoke to the weight of what she had carried. The depth of her pain. The guilt of what it had all led to.
“I’m sorry,” Abigail whispered at last. “I’m so sorry that my inaction and inability to come to terms with this caused you both so much pain. You have become dear friends to me and I hate myself for what I failed to do.”
Celeste came closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t say that I’m not…upset that you didn’t reach out to us sooner.”
“We could have put our heads together, just as we have since we met, and worked out what to do,” Pippa added. Her pale cheeks were red with emotion now, and she folded her arms across her chest. “Instead of us being mown down so unexpectedly by the news.”
“I should have,” Abigail said. “If I had known your character, your wonderful personalities, I would have. But I was so afraid of what I would unlock if I reached out. I failed you, and again, I am so sorry.”
Celeste could see that Pippa might not be fully ready to accept that apology. She had loved Erasmus, just as Abigail once had. Their betrayals at the hands of that man were very different than her own empty relationship with him.
And that meant she had to take charge now. She was not as emotionally impacted by what had happened, so she could see things more clearly than either of her friends did. And what she saw was that any of Abigail’s strange behavior was likely explained by her actions and inactions when it came to Erasmus’s bigamy. She hadn’t killed him. Celeste knew it deep in her heart. She knew the woman before her, so wracked with guilt, could never harm the man who had ripped her heart out. If she’d wanted to, she would have had plenty of time to do it long