Page 41 of A Spinster for the Rakish Duke
“Father?” Emma asked again, and more worry crept into her voice.
“Emma, dearest,” Donovan stepped in, putting his hand on her arm. “They are letters between your Aunt and Mr. Dole. They detail plans about arranging your marriage and Benjamin’s kidnapping. They talk about other incriminating things as well…” Donovan trailed off, willing to leave it at that.”
“Why do you stop, Your Grace?” Barbara hissed in anger. “Why do you deny her the final truths of this? All is done now. What more is there to preserve?”
“Please, Barbara,” Emma’s father begged. “If you care about the family, you will let it remain unspoken.”
“I’ve spent my whole life doing nothing but caring for this family. And I’ve gotten very little in return.” She turned to Emma, her voice full of venom and accusation. “All you had to do was marry who you were told, then everything would have worked out fine. I didn’t care who your sisters married, but I needed to keep tabs on one dowry to make sure I had the money I needed.”
“Money?” Emma asked confusedly. “What did you need money for?”
“Just a little bit of it. Your father was going to give the little money he had away when his last daughter married. But he didn’t plan properly for his own remarriage.” Barbara’s voice was growing more and more frantic.
“Remarriage?” Mr. Bradford looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
“It was always me, John,” Barbara told him, breaking down in those final moments. A lifetime of truth held behind a dam that would no longer hold it. “You married my sister, but it was always me who really loved you. And once I got her out of the way, I thought you would be able to tell how much I loved you, but these children were always here. Always reminding you of her. But I was patient, John. I just had to make sure Benjamin was gone, and your daughters were married, then I would haveyou all to myself with no one to distract you or make you think of her.”
“Barbara... my God, you can’t mean?” Mr. Bradford was horrified, barely able to speak.
“I did what I had to for love. I regret nothing.” She practically spat the words, but the fire died in her eyes. It was clear to anyone that any delusion she had about marrying Emma’s father died with the revelation of truth that night.
Donovan turned to his brother. “Fetch some rope from the carriage and bind her hands. She shouldn’t put up much of a fight, but I don’t want to risk anything until the constables arrive.”
His brother only nodded in response and ducked out the door, returning a short time later.
“You and that Dole fellow deserve each other,” Donovan told Barbara as her hands were being bound.
She gave Donovan a sickly smile. “Did he tell you why he was so keen on helping me? About how I manipulated him? It’s true, I did, but the fool did it to himself. You see, your involvement was the worst kind of coincidence. When I saw you in the garden with Emma at the ball and told Dole of your interference, he told me he couldn’t do it. He felt so guilty about covering up the deaths of your mother and father that he couldn’t go through with a plan against you.”
“What? What are you talking about?” Donovan asked, shocked to his core. His own voice sounded far away but still so strong. In a sad way, he almost sounded like his own father.
“Your mother and father? He didn’t kill them; that was the debt collectors looking to collect on the money your father owed them. One too many games of hazard didn’t go his way, I guess. What Mr. Dole did do was make their death look like an accident. Greased the right palms, threatened the right people. He took care of all of that, and he told me this. So, I made it clear that he would do as he was told, or I would tell you the truth. So, there it is, the truth.” The tone in her voice made it clear that Barbara was mocking him.
Alistair kept his cool during Barbara’s story, making sure the rope was tight, and that she wouldn’t be doing much. Donovan, meanwhile, stumbled back to a nearby chair, Emma rushing to his side to support him despite her own terrible revelation weighing heavily on her chest.
“Well, that’s an awfully good story,” the younger brother said as he circled around Barbara. “Probably even true too. But, as much as that hurts, my brother will still be getting married at the end of all this,” Alistair said as he leaned in towards Barbara. “How are your marriage plans working out for you, Miss?”
Barbara sneered at Alistair. ‘Mock me all you want, child. I have lived a life more difficult than you can imagine. You judge my actions only because you’d never have the fortitude to make them yourself.
A short time later, Barbara Johnson was escorted away by the constables, but this departure didn’t sit right with Emma. She knew she could not live her whole life not knowing whether she was right about what she suspected, but she also knew, as her aunt was being escorted away, that this may be one of the last chances she had to ask.
“A moment, constable,” Emma said and rested her hand on her aunt’s arm. “Aunt Barbara, please, before you go, I need to know. The tea, was it…?” Emma couldn’t bring herself to finish the words.
“Poisoned?” Barbara finished it for her, staring at her niece intensely. “You are in love now with that Duke. Tell me, do you think a love unrequited could make me capable of poisoning you?”
And that was all her aunt would say on the matter, leaving Emma to sort out the terrible truth before she was hauled away.
Despite having saved the missing solicitor. Despite having caught the true culprit. Despite having solved multiple mysteries that spanned decades, Donovan and Emma ended that night feeling like they hadn’t managed much. In truth, at that moment, the victory felt more than hollow; it felt like they hadn't succeeded much at all.
Chapter Thirty
“Good morning,” Emma stirred from the kiss placed gently on her forehead. She had slept soundly, despite, or because of, the emotional turmoil that had occurred the night before.
Donovan and his brother had spent the night as well. Appropriately they slept in other guest rooms, but it appeared that Donovan had been allowed, or had daringly taken it upon himself, to enter her room in the early morning.
“I was thinking,” he began, “the circumstances now are not dissimilar, if not the same, as when we tried to marry the first time. Today might be a good day to try again,” he said with a smile. “Cast off the dark mood of the evening before, and let a joyous celebration cleanse us when we need it most,” he proclaimed.
Emma smiled up at him. “I think that is a wonderful idea. My aunt tried to deprive me of the wedding day I wanted more thanonce already. Now that she has been taken away, there is no need to let her succeed any longer.”
