‘I know what you are,’ Sebastien said to Joan softly. He glanced around, and then lowered his voice even more. ‘She was protecting someone like you. That’s why she was executed. Because she helped someone with your power. And Aaron turned her in for it.’
‘What?’ Joan said again. She was shaken that Sebastien knew of her power. And more than that, she couldn’t take in what he’d said. Aaron’s mother had harboured someone with a forbidden power like Joan’s? Aaron had turned his own mother in to the Court? ‘No,’ she said stupidly. Aaron would never have done that.
Right?
Sebastien didn’t seem to hear her. His attention had returned to Aaron. ‘I know you’re an Oliver,’ he said to Aaron. ‘I know you don’t care about any family but your own. But she loved you. And you betrayed her. You called the guards on her!’ His eyes shone. He was near tears, Joan saw then. ‘Marguerite Nightingale was the best of us, and you gave her up to the Court!’
Joan shook her head. She didn’t want to believe it was true. She wondered suddenly how Sebastien had known Marguerite. Could he be a cousin of Aaron’s? An uncle? They had the same high cheekbones, the same porcelain-fine skin.
‘You should see how all these people are looking at you right now,’ Sebastien whispered to Aaron. ‘You should see the disgust on their faces. How they despise you. Because that’s what you are. You’re despicable.’ Joan glanced around. People were watching with expressions of revulsion.
Under the blindfold, Aaron’s face had been very pale, but now an ugly red flush appeared. His chin was still up, defiant. Joan stared at him. Cruel is informing on your own mother. Around the room, people were whispering about it.
Aaron Oliver, Joan heard. Turned in his own mother. Disinherited by the Olivers too.
‘Keep that in mind when you talk to him,’ Sebastien said to Joan. He blinked and a tear fell. It seemed to bring him back to himself. He scrubbed at his face. ‘And don’t free him afterward,’ he said roughly. ‘Or he’ll inform on all of us.’ He stalked away before Joan could answer.
Aaron’s head had been tilted slightly in Sebastien’s direction, listening to Sebastien’s footsteps fade. But now, as if he sensed Joan looking at him, he turned back to her. ‘Well?’ he said tightly. ‘Do you have questions for me? Or shall we just keep standing here—apparently with people gawking?’ He hadn’t denied anything Sebastien had said, Joan realised slowly. Did that mean it was all true? That he had turned his mother in to be executed?
‘Come on,’ Tom said softly. ‘We’ve prepared a room at the back of the boathouse. It has a door we can lock.’
As they started to walk, something made Joan look up. Nick was heading toward them. He found Joan’s eyes, and Joan’s breath caught at his expression.
‘Can I meet you there?’ Joan said. She released Aaron’s arm reluctantly. ‘Don’t start questioning him before I get there, okay? I just need to check on Nick.’
Nick had changed his clothes; he was dressed for the era now in a brown flatcap, worker’s shirt, and waistcoat. He was always handsome, but there was an edge to his looks today: the bruise across his cheek made him look like the fighter he’d once been.
‘What did the doctor say?’ Joan asked.
Nick’s eyebrows went up in slight irony. But he answered, ‘Bruised ribs. Nothing broken.’
‘That sounds painful.’
Nick’s eyes sparked with hurt before the cold overtook him again—as if he wanted to believe she cared but didn’t. Joan folded her arms around herself. He was right here in front of her, but he’d never felt so far away.
‘Why don’t you ask me what you really want to know?’ he said.
Joan pictured the carpet of flowers at Holland House, dark blood staining them. ‘Do we have a truce right now?’
‘I gave you my word,’ Nick said. It was low, the dangerous rumble of a lion. ‘Even if I hadn’t, I know what’s right. We can’t allow Eleanor to create a world where monsters rule. Until we stop her, we’re on the same side.’
Joan should have been relieved, but her chest was painfully tight. After that, our paths will diverge, he’d said.
‘They captured Aaron when they rescued us?’ Nick said.
Joan nodded.
‘You knew him in the other timeline, didn’t you? That’s why you were so upset when he came after you in this one.’ Nick sounded so cold. ‘You care about him, and he doesn’t remember you anymore.’
It took Joan a moment to get the word out. ‘Yes.’
His mouth twisted wryly. ‘That sounds painful.’
Joan swallowed hard. She really couldn’t bear to cry in front of him right now. She clenched her hands into fists until her nails bit into the flesh. ‘We need to go and question him,’ she said.
Nick was right. Eleanor had to be stopped. That had to come before anything else.
twenty-nine