Page 48 of The Golden Spoon
The idea of facing Lottie in court and having her stand there accusing her makes Betsy squirm with anger. It was disgusting how she had used Betsy’s departure to swoop in and take over. When she sees Lottie, she will remind her that no matter what, Betsy still has claim to half of Grafton when she gets out of here, half of her father’s estate. She thinks of what she’d like to do with the money when she emerges: a nice apartment somewhere near the water. A new television show, one that clears her name.
“And how long until we can get a court date?”
“We’re working on it. Now, this would all depend on proving that you did not kill Archie.”
“That should be easy enough. I was nowhere near him. I hadn’t even seen him the evening he was murdered.”
“Well, technically you were the only other person in the East Wing.”
“Goodbye, Francis.” Betsy picks herself up and makes her way to the door.
“Just wait. We’ll make a plan,” Francis calls after her. She doesn’t turn around, just waves back at him, tilting her hand back and forthlike the queen of England. She shuffles through the common room, stopping to look at a newspaper. “Right Hand of Disgraced Baking Show Host Called Out for Rigging Competition in Documentary.” Betsy picks up the paper, unfolding it to reveal a photo of Melanie. The photographers have caught her leaving her apartment. She looks undone, her hair wild, her clothes baggy. Betsy never had time to exact her revenge on Melanie, but reading through the article it would seem that Gerald has done the job for her. She always did like Gerald. At least some good has come of that terrible documentary; Melanie and that vile cameraman will never work in television again. Betsy smiles smugly as the door buzzes, locking her inside.
