“Last time?” Edward demanded. “What do you mean bylast time? Who else have you done this to, Margaret?”
Margaret turned away.
Edward felt a strong urge to go after her and grab her. He knew now that his instinct had been right. Shewasresponsible for what had happened to Lydia. And it wasn’t the first time she had done it. Only someone with experience could speak about poisons as knowledgeably as she had. And what that had to mean was…
“My father,” he choked. “You did this to my father. We never knew what was responsible for his death… but it was you, wasn’t it? You killed him. And all this time, you’ve been living in my house, underneath my roof, as a part of my family, accepting Colin’s love. He thinks of you as the closest thing to a mother. What would he say if he knew you had done this?”
“Colin would understand,” Margaret whispered. “Colin knows how miserable I always was in that house. He would know that I had to do what I did.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Edward snapped. “He’ll never forgive you when he finds out. And neither will I.”
“No one will believe you…”
“I’m the Duke of Westfrey. Do you think people are going to take your word over mine? They’ll believe me, Margaret, and I’m going to summon the constables right away. I’ll send a member of your staff to bring them. And then, you and I are going to sit here and wait for them.”
His only regret, and it stabbed at him painfully, was that he couldn’t rush back to Lydia’s side just yet. But he knew the physician was on his way to her. She would be in good hands until he could get back home—and, he swore to himself, he would never allow Margaret near her again, as long as any of them lived.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
“Tell me everything,” Edward demanded.
Margaret was practically shaking with fury. “I can’t think why I should say anything to you at all,” she said. “Storming in here, invading my home—you’ve always treated me as if I hardly mattered at all to you, Edward. You’ve never welcomed me, never made me feel as if I could be a part of your family. Don’t you know that’s all I ever wanted? A family that would make me feel loved?”
“You never cared about that.”
Edward felt his fists clenching and unclenching, and he had to remind himself over and over that he couldn’t put his hands on her. There was no excuse for physical violence against a lady, even one who had confessed to doing the dreadful things Margaret had done. He would keep himself under control until the authorities arrived.
“You don’t know what I cared about,” Margaret argued. “You’ve never known me, Edward. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know that you’re exactly the person I always imagined you to be. You’re cruel and selfish, and you have no compunctions about hurting other people in the service of getting what you want. Lydia could have been killed! Youwantedher to be killed! And now, you truly expect me to feel sorry for you?”
“If you’d been capable of any sort of empathy for me, we would never have reached this point in the first place,” Margaret retorted.
“I won’t allow you to blame this on me, Margaret. I’ve done nothing wrong here. You’re the one who tried to kill my wife! You’re the one who killed my father. You’re not going to make me believe that the whole thing was my fault all along when you and I both know it wasn’t.”
“You really think there was nothing that could have been done to prevent this outcome?” Margaret asked. “Do you think I entered into my marriage with your father planning that things would go the way they did? It was never my intention, Edward. Surely you can see that.”
“Then why? Why would you do the things you did? You weren’t happy in your life with my father, and you were never pleased with me, but how could that mean that anyone deserved death? And Lydia in particular—she never didanythingto you! She’s only ever been kind and gracious to you. And you repay her kindness by doing this. It’s shameful! You’re a monster!”
“You have no idea,” Margaret said. “You have no idea what it’s like to go through life knowing you’re nothing more than an object to someone—that the person you care about the most only wants you to satisfy his own ambitions.”
“What are you talking about?”
Edward couldn’t be sure whether she was talking nonsense, or if it was that he was too angry to comprehend her words. He began to pace back and forth, hoping to release some of the energy that was building up in his body, thinking that the constables had better arrive soon before he did something he would regret. He couldn’t bear to listen to Margaret talking as if the things she’d done had been warranted, as if his father had somehowdeservedhis untimely death.
“Your father only married me so that I could act as mother to you and Colin,” Margaret said. “Not thatyouwere ever grateful for what I did for you.”
“But you only married him for his money,” Edward pointed out. “It was an arrangement for mutual benefit. It wasn’t as if he had a purpose in mind for you and you were in love with him. You never cared for him any more than he cared for you, so don’t try to convince me that this was unfair to you.”
“It was unfair to me,” Margaret said. “I may not have been in love with your father, but I did have things I wanted from our marriage. I wanted a child of my own, and he denied me that.”
“He didn’t deny you,” Edward argued. “It was unfortunate that you lost your pregnancy, but that’s hardly my father’s fault. He didn’t do anything to harm you. Only you ever acted to harm anyone!”
“You can tell yourself whatever you’d like about it,” Margaret said. “The truth is that when he discovered I was pregnant, he insisted that the child couldn’t possibly be his and accused me of indiscretions of which I was not guilty. He said our child would never hold a title or a place in Society. He said he already had his heir.”
Edward had never heard any of this before.
“Did you truly think your child might replace me as heir?”
