“We don’t have a shameful secret,” Zeb said. “Gideon and I have nothing to be ashamed of. Or perhaps I do. Perhaps all of us Wyckhams are murderers, by act or proxy or inaction or just heredity. But Gideon has done nothing wrong, and this isn’t fair to him.”
“No,” Rachel said. “I didn’t think about that; none of us did. We expected the Wyckhams would grab for the inheritance with both hands and everything else would follow. But you didn’t doit, and then you were kind to me. I told you that tale about your brother so you could use righteous retribution as your excuse—that’s usually the last refuge of the scoundrel—and you didn’t even do that. You simply asked me what I wanted you to do. And I thought, thoseareyour true colours. Wynn lied.”
“Yes, he does that,” Zeb said. “He is dangerously deluded, and probably a murderer. Why the blazes are you all listening to him?”
“Because he offered us revenge we’ll never get any other way, and a good chance we’ll walk free. Mrs. Bram is already dealt with. Bram and Hawley will be soon. And Dash can rot. He deserves it. They all deserve it.”
Zeb had been kneeling by Gideon. Now he sat abruptly back on the floor, as a child might, because he had the urge to cry like one. To be this utterly disregarded as a human being, treated as if his life didn’t matter at all…
Rachel would know exactly how that felt. They all did. That was why they were doing it.
Gideon had bent to finish untying the knot himself. He kicked his feet free, sat up, and put a hand on Zeb’s shoulder. It was a small comfort. “Are you telling us this for a reason?”
“Yes,” Rachel said. “It was wrong, bringing you two in. I want my vengeance, but not at this price. I told Wynn that yesterday but he said it was too late, and the others agreed. Some of them think you and Mr. Grey deserve it anyway, as—” She waved a hand between them.
Zeb had rather assumed that might be the case, because thishouse was very full of hate. All the same, he felt his stomach give a cold, fearful lurch, and put up his hand to meet Gideon’s, still resting on his shoulder. “I’m glad you disagree, but what does that mean in practice?”
Rachel gave a twitch of a smile. “There’s a delivery due today from the grocer.”
“What?” Gideon demanded, sitting up straight and wincing at the movement. “When?”
“It could be any time, so you’ll need to be there when he leaves. The gatekeeper’s orders are not to let anyone out, but he probably won’t stop you by force if you ask the grocer’s man for a lift to town. But he will alert the house if he sees you waiting before the cart gets to the gate, so you can’t just hang around there.”
“There’s nothing near the gate,” Gideon said. “Empty land. Nowhere to hide.”
“You’ll have to work that out for yourselves. I’m going to lock you in here and I’ll warn you when the grocer’s man arrives. He won’t stay long because Wynn sacked the real cook, who he was sweet on, but he’ll take a little while to unload and I’ll keep him talking as long as I can. As soon as you hear my signal, head towards the gate. See if you can catch him on the drive. It’s the best chance I can give you.”
“But how will we get out if you’re locking us in?”
Rachel went to the panelling and beckoned them to join her. She pressed a carved boss in the shape of a flower. There was a click, and the panel swung inwards, revealing a black rectangle of darkness.
“A secret passage,” Gideon said, with profound resignation. “Of course. Where does it go?”
“The passage to the left takes you to a door that opens to the outside. There’s a paraffin lamp and matches on the shelf inside.”
“There are lots of passages, aren’t there?” Zeb said. “Along my corridor, for footsteps?”
“Footsteps, eavesdropping, surprising appearances in Mrs. Bram’s room. All very useful. Don’t come out until you hear my signal, because if anyone catches you, I won’t help again. And don’t miss your chance at the gate, because there’s nobody else coming for days.”
“Thank you,” Zeb said. “Truly, Rachel, thank you for this. And I am so very sorry for everything that was done to you.” He took a deep breath. “But you’re talking aboutmurder. And Wynn is doing all this for a very strange reason, and you ought not trust him at all, so—will you come with us? I promise you will be safe with us, and I will do my best to help you afterwards if you need it.”
“That’s very sweet,” Rachel said. “But I want to see Hawley Wyckham die.”
“What if we go to the police? You could hang!”
“What will you tell the police about? Ghosts? Or the things your family did to earn this? What if Wynn tells them all about you and Mr. Grey, as I assure you he will?”
Zeb swallowed. “Bram is mybrother. I can’t just leave him to his death.”
“He left Florence to hers. And it was not one of us who pushed Mrs. Bram down the stairs, by the way. But make your own choice.”
She left on that. The key turned in the lock.
“Jesus Christ,” Zeb said, and sat down hard on the chair. “Jesus.”
Gideon dropped to one knee in front of him and held out his arms. Zeb folded forward into them and let himself be held and rocked for a few soothing moments. He needed it.
“What do I do?” he said into Gideon’s shoulder. “Gideon, what do Ido?”
