Sitting hard on the bed, Helena shook her head. ‘Why would you lie to Uncle Lachlan? Did Sinclair threaten you to try and save himself?’
Cynthia joined her, taking her hands and squeezing them. ‘Sinclair didn’t kill Hubert either.’
‘Oh my goddess! It’s Mrs Higgins, isn’t it? Lippert thought her name when we questioned him about Hubert’s death, but I dismissed it as impossible. Why would Mrs Higgins ever do such a thing?’
‘She knew what Hubert had been doing to the maids. She caught him strangling one of the poor girls…’ Her throat tightened and the tears she had kept at bay broke free. ‘I couldn’t tell your uncle. She doesn’t deserve to hang for doing what I should have done all along. She stopped him, Helena.’
Helena’s capable hands pulled Cynthia to her in a tight hug. She held her as Cynthia fell apart. She stroked her hair in a soothing rhythm as the fear, grief, guilt, and anger poured from her, poison lanced from a wounded soul. When she was empty, she pulled back, wiping her face with her sleeve.
‘Do you hate me? For lying to your uncle?’
Helena shook her head.
‘Do you hate me for being so blind to Hubert’s crimes?’
‘No. But I’m worried you hate yourself.’
‘I thought you couldn’t read my thoughts.’
Helena traced a finger down Cynthia’s cheek. ‘You don’t have to forgive Hubert. But you do need to forgive yourself.’
Cynthia caught Helena’s hand and pressed it against her cheek. ‘I know. I’m working on it. It isn’t easy.’
‘You do hard things, Cynthia. You’ve done hard things every day of your life. You took down the Devil today.’
‘You took him down.’
‘We did it. Together. Which is how I want to do everything from this moment forward. Our souls are intertwined, after all.’
Cynthia’s lips curled in a small smile flavoured with salty tears. ‘I love you, Helena Blair.’
‘Good. Because I am hopelessly in love with you, Cyn.’
They helped each other change and joined Aunt Rowan, Ellie, and Clio in the parlour. Ellie had a plate of freshly baked clementine cakes on a plate. Two steaming mugs awaited them, one with tea, the other coffee, and they settled themselves on the settee, Helena’s leg pressing against Cynthia’s.
Around sips of their drinks and nibbles of cake, Cynthia took turns with Helena recounting each side of the story. It wasn’t until Cynthia described her confrontation with Sinclair that she could process the memory of her mother.
‘She forced you to bind your magic.’ Clio’s eyes widened. ‘Cyn, that’s awful. Like cutting off your arm.’
‘Or taking away your sight. Our magic is woven into our souls.’ Ellie hugged Ophelia close. ‘I can’t imagine being separated from my element.’
‘She did it out of love. Misguided and manipulative, but I think she truly thought it’s what was best for me.’
Aunt Rowan shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry, Cynthia.’
‘It’s all right. The magic is coming back. I think you all have a lot to do with that.’ Cynthia leaned against Helena but before she could rest her head on Helena’s shoulder, she jerked upright. ‘Blasted damnation! I forgot about the photos. Sinclair’s giant took pictures of me. He escaped before Superintendent Lachlan and my brother arrived.’ Fear threatened her newfound joy. ‘He’ll use them against us. I should have told Superintendent MacDougal right away.’
Clio fed Sir Robin a piece of clementine cake. ‘Should you have told him before or after you lost consciousness from being shot?’
Cynthia opened her mouth to reply and realised Clio was teasing her. That she could do so after everything they’d experienced together was an unexpected balm on her raw nerves.
Ellie primly cleared her throat. ‘I wouldn’t worry too much about those photos.’
Helena stiffened next to Cynthia. ‘Have you seen something?’
Bluebell eyes twinkled with secrets. ‘I see lots of things.’
‘He won’t use them against us?’ Cynthia dared to ask, terrified Ellie wouldn’t be able to give her an answer.
