Page 93 of Sacrificing the Untamed Lady Henrietta
A bitter laugh hissed in her ear. “You took the place that was rightfully mine.”
“I do not understand.”
“You were wanted, whilst I was abandoned and left to rot. Our father chose unwisely, and now you will suffer for his ill-fated mistake. I deserved his affection as much as you did, if not more. I would not have flouted his good name and humiliated him with such outlandish ideas of becoming a physician. I would have been a good son, had he but let me. But he will pay, Henrietta. He will pay, and it will cost him dearly.”
“Gerome… please, let me go.”
“It is much too late for that now, Henrietta. My revenge is almost at its completion.”
All this time, she had suspected Seth, when Gerome had been the one plotting against her and her father. She wracked her brain furiously, trying to make sense of it, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. He had become Ewan’s manservant shortly after the wedding. He had come to Scarborough with them.He was the one who sent the letters… he was the one who took mine from the postal box. He overheard our every word. He used Ewan to get close to me, so that he might punish my father. Ewan had entrusted him with everything—the one man we ought to have been watching.
“You said ‘our father’. What do you mean?” Henrietta tried to even out her voice, knowing that panic would get her nowhere. The rope around her neck dug in harder, grating against her skin.
“My name may be Gerome Buffond, but I deserved the title of Oliver,” he spat viciously, tugging on the rope. “Our father, the great war hero, seduced my mother during the battles in France. She died of grief, after he abandoned us both to a life of destitution. I was alone, living out my youngest years in an orphanage, in grime, and filth, and squalor. Can you picture that, Henrietta?” He said the last words with such venom that she physically recoiled.
“I am sorry, Gerome,” she murmured. “I—”
“I do not want yourpity!” he snapped. “I want your life, Henrietta. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. I am owed that much.”
She lifted her hands to try and loosen the rope. “How do you know he is the one who did this to you?”Keep him talking, and I may find my means of escape.Her eyes scoured the banks desperately, praying for a miracle. Clutterbuck should have been here, but a sinking feeling made her realize that Gerome had already dealt with her father’s man. She looked at the rushing river below and felt her chest grip in a vise of horror.
“My mother left me a note, though I did not receive it until years later, upon my exit from the orphanage,” he explained bitterly. “When I discovered the truth, I gave my life to the pursuit of revenge—hers and mine. You will be my crowning glory. He will be made to watch you die—the thing he loves most in this world. The daughter who disappoints him at every turn.”
“Let me go,” Henrietta pleaded. “We can speak with my father together. We may resolve this without any harm. I am certain he would wish to meet with you, if you would allow him to.”
He scoffed. “The time for talking is long past. He did not return to see my mother, though he knew there might have been a child. He cast her aside, and he cast me aside, and soon he will know what that pain feels like. He will suffer, as I have suffered. There can be no forgiveness now.”
There was nothing more frightening than a person with nothing left to lose. Henrietta knew that. She could tell that Gerome did not care if this ended in his death, too. At least he would have tasted the sweet nectar of long-sought vengeance. In fact, she sensed that he did not plan to survive this, either. He was going to drag her down with him and bring the ultimate agony to their father.
“I am your sister, Gerome,” she said softly. “You cannot kill your own blood. You would not.”
He tugged the rope harder, squeezing too tight. “I have been ordered around for long enough, bowing and scraping to work my way up to your household. You did not pay me any heed when I was in your husband’s employ. Do not expect me to believe that you view me as anything other than staff. You high-and-mighty leeches are all the same.”
“There must be a way to stop you from doing this,” Henrietta gasped, struggling for air. A pressure was building behind her eyes, her cheeks hot.
“And the way you treated poor Mr. Booth, whose only crime was speaking out and losing his job,” Gerome sneered. “It was almost too easy to distract you from my endeavors. Your sights were solely upon him. He was the perfect scapegoat when, indeed, he suspected me the moment he arrived at Lord Averson’s residence. That wench of his has been trying to follow me, attempting to catch me in the act, though I am always one step ahead of them both. All of you, in fact.”
Henrietta’s heart lurched. “She was trying to warn me away fromyou.”
“You are slowly figuring it out,” he mocked.
“They were there to watch me. To ensure you did not strike at me.”
“Perhaps you are sharper than I have given you credit for,” he mused. “Although, you followed me so readily, like a lamb to the slaughter. Not once did you suspect that something was amiss, trailing after me with that pitiful expression of fear on your face.”
“Spare me, Gerome. I beg of you.”
He laughed coldly. “Why? I know you cannot be with child, for you have spurned your husband’s advances. Or did you think to lie to me, to appeal to my ‘better nature’?”
“I wish to live,” she replied firmly.
“Then it is too bad for you.” Without another word, he tied a gag across Henrietta’s mouth and hoisted her over the edge of the bridge. Her feet landed on the perilously thin edge between the Doric-style gaps, scuffling for purchase. She wobbled forwards and backwards, until Gerome pulled on the rope, steadying her. There was a steep distance between her and the water below. One hard push, and she would end up dangling from the rope around her neck. Which she suspected was the point.
The only trouble was, Gerome’s audience had yet to arrive. Henrietta knew that might buy her some more time. Indeed, she was about to open her mouth to try and convince him once more that he ought to release her, when a cry shot through the still atmosphere.
“Stop! Let her go!”
Chapter 35
