He had a gun. Had he had it all along? It was in his hand, and she heard the click of the lever being pulled back. “I’ll go with you,” Cecelia said. “You don’t have to force me. I wanted to talk with you anyway.”
Cecelia worked to adopt the placating tone she’d used with her father when he was drunk.
“Why did you want to talk to me?” Mayden asked as he led her toward a long corridor. He walked quickly down it, his hand at her elbow, gently but forcefully pushing her forward.
“Where are we going?” she asked, rather than answering him.
“Somewhere that we can talk privately,” he said. He pushed through a set of doors and then led her up a set of stairs. They circled around and around and around and around, and by the time they got to the top, she was winded.
“Can we slow down just a little?” she asked.
Mayden brushed cobwebs from the entryway of a large stone room. Cecelia walked to the edge and looked through a stone opening. Through the hole, she could see the ground below. “Where are we?” she asked.
“The turrets,” he said as he began to pace.
“This is where you killed the first Duchess of Robinsworth,” Cecelia said. She struggled to remain calm. But it was difficult.
His mouth fell open, and he stopped pacing to glare at her. “I didn’t kill her,” he said.
“You didn’t?”
“Oh, my God,” he breathed. “All this time they thought I killed her?”
Cecelia didn’t say a word. She just looked at him. His gaze was clear and steady. Not at all like she’d imagined. He was truly shocked at the revelation.
“I didn’t kill her,” he said. He laid a hand on his chest and pleaded with her with his eyes. “You must believe me. I didn’t kill her. I needed her.” He began to pace again.
“Did she love you, too?” Cecelia asked.
He shook his head. “She wanted to make her husband jealous. Nothing more. She was mad.”
“And you’re not?” Cecelia asked.
“Not right now,” he said, laughing.
“Why did you take me? And not one of the others?” Cecelia asked.
“The duchess and her ladyship were rushing forward to help their mother.” He looked at Cecelia as though she were the one bound for Bedlam. “You were the only one left. And you are more likely to listen to me.”
Cecelia cocked her head to the side as she edged toward the door. “What did you have to say to me?”
“Stop moving,” he yelled. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
“I’ll stay right here,” Cecelia said, holding up her hands as though surrendering.
“Tell me what my sins are,” the earl said. He made a forward motion with his hands. “Let me hear them. What else do they think I did?”
“They think you killed the late duchess,” Cecelia said.
“I didn’t. She jumped.” He made another forward motion with his hand.
“What happened that day?” Cecelia asked.
“We were up here talking. And she jumped. She just jumped. She said His Grace knew about us and that he was angry. And she couldn’t bear her life anymore. I tried to stop her. I tried to stop her.”
He didn’t look upset by this at all. If anything, he looked irked that he had to stop to explain it.
“Did you love her?”