The Wolf of Winterthorne: Scandalous Secrets, Book 4 (34 page)

“Hello, Thornton,” Arabella smiled, waving to the butler who stood in the corner of the room.

The thin man’s cheeks burned a bright crimson as he tugged at his collar. “Good morning, Mrs. Ambrose.”

Bella winked at Logan, mouthing
I told you so
.

“Show-off,” he teased her.

Thankfully, breakfast proceeded with joyful conversation and playful banter. Afterwards, as the servants cleared the table, Bella kissed Logan on the cheek before heading to the servants’ wing with Eve.

Between the morning bustle of clanging china and cutlery and chatter of Colin, Tristan, and Victoria, Logan wondered if he had made a mistake by asking Eve to speak with Bella.

Perhaps he should have done it himself.

God, how he hoped this was not a mistake.

“Shall we gather the troops?” Colin interrupted his friend’s silent turmoil.

Logan nodded.

They must concentrate on the tasks at hand. The rest would right itself. After all, the decision had been made and Arabella would do what was right for their child. She would see that this is the best option to keep their baby safe.

Somehow, Logan suspected his wife wouldn’t like it nor would she acquiesce without giving him a piece of her mind although it mattered not.

All that mattered was their child’s life.

Besides, they would all better perform their duties without a baby’s safety looming over them. The upcoming events would be stressful enough. Who needed more anxiety added to the mix?

Personally, Logan could not wait for this whole ordeal to be over. The sooner the better.

Without bloodshed.

He instructed his staff then entered the tunnels. “Let’s map this bloody maze.”

Yes, it was time to end this.

Logan intended to do precisely that.

“Victoria suggested what?” Arabella’s voice rose an octave as she stood with her hands placed firmly on her hips.

Eve frowned in the process of rearranging what would act as their sewing room as soon as Logan’s staff brought the sewing machines upstairs to the third floor and Eve’s staff delivered fabrics and other necessities from her home office in her family’s estate known as Waltham Manor. “It is the safest course of action and you know it.”

“I will not allow Victoria to endanger herself,” On this Arabella was adamant.

Luring Sybil into the bowels of Winterthorne for an ambush was precarious to say the least. Arabella would not allow anyone to become injured for her.

“Bella,” Eve crossed the room, placing her hand on Arabella’s stomach. “This is who must not get hurt. Those tunnels are dangerous and in your condition—”

“I cannot allow Victoria to do this.” Marching to the door, Arabella thanked Eve for her concern. “I must speak with Victoria at once. I will return shortly.”

As Bella sprinted down the hall, she heard Eve call to her. “It is a losing battle. Neither she nor your husband will relent.”

Regardless, Arabella would plead her case to Victoria. She could not condone placing one more person in danger for her.

Bounding through the door to the dining hall, she found Victoria seated on the floor, surrounded by fluffy skirts made of a red plaid, studying a crumpled piece of paper. “Oh, this is rubbish. Honestly, how am I to decipher this?” she muttered, tossing the page onto her lap.

“You are not endangering yourself for me,” Bella’s voice was much louder and more forceful than she intended.

“I had wondered when we would have this conversation. Care for a seat?” Victoria patted the vibrant rug beside her. “I dare say this shall be a lengthy chat.”

Bella settled beside the woman she now recognized not only as her former employer but also as her friend – the kind, generous, and unconventional Lady MacAlistair. A woman who befriended her servants and her employees. A woman without judgment. “I remember everything about our friendship. How you and I used to chat at the gazebo on your estate every Thursday. I also remember how lovely your children are. How much you love them and how much they adore you. I will not allow you to place yourself in harm’s way for me.”

“But it isn’t for you, my dear friend,” Victoria tipped her head to the side. “Well, it is in part. But there is another precious soul who makes your involvement in luring Sybil through that perilous maze impossible.”

“Sybil is my sister, therefore she is my burden,” Arabella studied her friend’s azure eyes, bright as the summer sky. “And I can protect my child.”

Victoria’s rosy countenance faded, replaced by a pale visage. Her robust gaze now filled with sorrow. “I believed the same thing once. Our daughter, Sophie, was in danger and I was with child. Tristan and I swore up and down that we would protect our children. Both of them. Then a man whom I refer to as
the monster
came for Sophie and shoved me out of his way.”

Bella’s heart lurched while her head began to ache. So much so, that she leaned against the wall behind her for support.

“I thought nothing of it at the time,” Victoria paused to trace the pattern of her skirts with her forefinger. “I was so concerned for our daughter who had been kidnapped and for Tristan who was setting off to rescue her.”

“Tristan found Sophie?” Though Arabella already knew the answer, she could barely hear her own ragged whisper.

Victoria’s eyes locked with hers. “Yes, and a week later I lost our child. My physician instructed me that the blow may or may not have been the cause though I will never know. What I am acutely aware of is the loss of that child who was loved by his or her mother and father … who is loved by us and missed. Terribly so. Thus, while your intentions to keep me from danger are noble, Arabella, I will not allow the same thing to happen to your child.”

“I am sorry, Victoria,” Bella reached for her friend’s hand, squeezing it in a gentle show of support.

“Many variables exist and much can go wrong,” her friend continued. “One stumble is all it might take, one fall, or one blow from your sister. You will protect your child by allowing me to lure Sybil through those catacombs. Because that little one needs you. And because, like you, I have a husband who will protect me from harm. I trust Tristan with my life. I will be fine and so will your child.”

Arabella leaned forward, embracing her friend. “Thank you, Tori.”

Patting her on the back, Victoria assured Bella, “You don’t owe me any thanks.”

“But I do,” Arabella locked eyes with her friend. “I remember all you have done for me. You believed me and showed me compassion when no one else did. You were like a sister to me, much more than my own ever was.”

Smiling, Victoria tipped her head to the side. “It is about time you remembered. I have missed you.”

Bella hugged her friend again. “I love you, my dearest friend.”

Footsteps bounded into the room from the tunnels. Both women wiped their eyes, laughing as Logan entered the room followed by Tristan and Colin.

“I take it that we have found our child’s godmother,” Logan smiled.

“Yes, we have,” Bella beamed, accepting her husband’s monogramed handkerchief and handing it to her friend. “If you will agree, that is.”

Victoria wiped her eyes, stifling a laugh. “Of course I shall agree. Look at me, crying again.”

Tristan joined her on the floor. “And you have charcoal on your cheek. I can’t take you anywhere.” He caressed his wife’s cheek with his thumb.

“How long were you standing in that tunnel?” she asked.

“Long enough,” Tristan embraced his wife. “Proprieties be damned, right?”

Burying her face in the crook of her husband’s neck, Victoria chuckled. “Proprieties be damned.”

Logan, too, sat on the floor. He studied his wife. “I love you,” Bella whispered.

Three words.

Eight letters.

They were all that was necessary to convey that Arabella would follow Logan’s instructions to the letter and that she would allow Victoria into the tunnels in her stead.

Winking at her, Logan held his wife’s hand.

Together, they sat with Tristan and Victoria.

“Would you look at this and tell me what it is?” Victoria held out the crumpled sheet of paper Bella saw her studying earlier.

Tristan shrugged his shoulders. “A cave drawing.”

“Yes, I believe it is,” Logan quipped, tilting the paper upside down, followed by every other position imaginable.

“You must speak with Arthur,” Victoria beseeched Tristan. “I cannot decipher this. Thankfully he isn’t an artist by trade or he would most likely starve.”

“How about I jot down the pathways from now on?” Tristan smoothed her hair.

Victoria smiled. “Excellent idea. As is choosing me to be your child’s godmother, by the way.” She shot a wry grin at Bella, then Logan.

“You and Colin will make excellent godparents,” Logan assured her.

“Me?” Colin asked from the doorway.

Logan raised his palms in the air. “Who else but my best mate?”

“It is official,” Tristan clapped while laughter reverberated throughout the room.

Colin shook Logan’s hand. “Thank you.”

“As if Logan would entrust anyone else,” Eve teased as she entered the spacious room.

Together the set of six sat on the floor laughing and chatting. Husbands holding their wives’ hands, drawings on paper scattered about the floor.

For a brief moment, Bella forgot about the upcoming confrontation with her sister. Until she studied the unconventional group before her …

My family
, she thought.

This was her family and she would do anything to protect them from her sister. No, henceforth she would refer to Sybil by her first name.

She was no longer a relation.

Logan was. As was Victoria, Colin, Eve, and Tristan. Even Fiona. Of course there were the children that her child would play with, grow up with … family.

Filled with unconventional misfits.

Nothing could make Arabella happier than to be one of them. Than to know that this was where she belonged. Hence, she would savor these moments and cut ties with Sybil forever. First in her mind, then in person. It would make the upcoming confrontation easier to process.

Because Sybil meant nothing to her.

This would not be their first confrontation. No, there had been one prior to this … when Sybil had been caught with Arabella’s employer. Bella confronted Sybil on that night.

Sybil’s words echoed in Arabella’s mind.

“You are so tedious, Arabella. How is it that we are related?” Sybil had jeered.

Arabella had steeled her shoulders and in her haughtiest voice replied, “We aren’t. Not any longer.”

As it turned out, Bella was a good judge of character. All this time, Sybil had the luxury of Arabella’s amnesia on her side.

No longer.

Bella remembered everything and would use it against Sybil.

“Logan, when will Arthur begin releasing his taunts to Sybil?” she asked.

Her husband caressed her hand. “In the next few days. Why?”

“Because ammunition is derived from my recovered memories,” Arabella’s eyes locked with his. “Arthur isn’t the only one who knows of Sybil’s depravity. I recall everything now, every weakness, every fault, every piece of self-loathing. I know what will upset Sybil, what will make her irrational, what will cause her to become unstable. I know what we can use against her.”

The room fell silent.

“It is about bloody time,” Arthur announced from the doorway.

“You speak,” Colin quipped.

Arthur leaned against the doorframe. “Only when it is important and this is vital. We must use Sybil’s own weaknesses against her. We must disarm her if we are to succeed.”

“Make no mistake, we will succeed,” Arabella assured them. “Sybil doesn’t stand a chance.”

Sybil’s hubris would be her downfall. She had bragged too much, crowed about her so-called accomplishments, about her sins. Though she thought Arabella was unconscious, Sybil had taken the risk.