“My God!” he spluttered. “Well… we can of course arrest her for this, but you know what this means, Your Grace? It would mean your mother facing a trial of murder?”
“It’s time old ghosts were laid to rest,” Theodore whispered. He looked at Margaret, a questioning look in his eyes. She realized after a few seconds that he was checking with her.
As the constable followed the others into the house, she nodded at him.
“You are right to report it,” she assured him. “Your mother needs help. She will not get that unless the truth comes out.”
Theodore looked in pain, wincing.
“They’ll send her to Bedlam for this.”
Margaret embraced him tightly. To her amazement, he buried her head in his shoulder. She held on, the two of them taking comfort in one another, and neither one of them breaking apart until they heard voices.
Catherine was dragged out a few minutes later. She looked lost, stumbling across the snow, scarcely able to keep standing. She probably would have slipped in the ice had it not been for the two constables on either side of her, keeping her up.
Behind her, Leonard and the last constable were dragging an unconscious Johnson.
“There was another man,” Margaret whispered to Theodore. “Another who took me from the carriage.”
“We’ll find him,” Theodore assured her.
“No… no.” Catherine suddenly cried out as one of the constables tried to get her onto the back of a horse. “You cannot arrest me. I have done nothing wrong. Nothing!”
“Did you start the fire that killed your husband?” one of the men asked as he took her waist and practically threw her into the saddle.
“I…” She didn’t deny it.
“Did you abduct your daughter-in-law?” the man pushed on.
“It was all for the best. I had to do it all. Don’t you see? God will not exorcise these demons, so I must be the one to do it!” Her screech made two of the constables back away from her, exchanging wary glances.
“I’ll be back,” Theodore whispered to Margaret. “Stay here, Maggie. Please?”
She nodded, leaning against the wall of the house as Theodore moved off. He must have whispered to the constables to treat her gentle, for one of the constables was much softer now as he reached up to tie Catherine’s hands together.
“Demon!” Catherine spat. “I know what you are! Even if the world will never see the real you, I see it. I see you, Theodore!”
“No, you don’t.” Theodore abruptly raised his voice. “It was I who lived with the demon, Catherine. Not you.” His look was chilling.
Catherine fell silent as Theodore walked back toward Margaret. Then the constables led her away and her screaming began again.
Margaret ignored it all as Theodore moved toward her and took her hand, turning it over to kiss the back.
“Ignore her,” Margaret pleaded.
“Demon! Devil’s spawn!”
“Ignore her,” she pleaded again.
“I intend never to think of her again,” Theodore promised.
“Come into the house.” Theodore had kept his arms around Margaret during their whole walk back to the house. They were both wet through now, thanks to trudging through the snow for so long.
When they reached the house, Mrs. Lancaster stood in the doorway. She must have seen them from a window, or seen the constables riding by, for she looked most anxious, clutching to the neckline of her gown with trembling hands.
“Your Grace!” she declared in surprise when she saw Theodore. “What has happened? Oh my…” She trailed off when she saw the blood on Margaret’s wrists.
“My mother,” Theodore said by way of explanation.
