“The magistrate’s being summoned,” Caroline said drawing near. “Can’t you hear the bells? We’ll set men to guard them. And look, the sailing ship is lifting its sails. Come, Sterling, please.”
He shifted, then, reaching for Annabelle with both arms.
She went to him with no hesitation, helping him to his feet.
“Annabelle,” he breathed.
Her beautiful, strong husband looked to have beaten to a pulp. “Darling, what have they done to you? This is all my fault,” Annabelle choked.
Amazingly, he cupped her cheek with one sand-and-blood crusted hand. “No. It’s mine. I failed you.” He choked on the last, nearly breaking her heart.
She wrapped her arms around him as gently as she could. “No. You never could.”
“Annabelle?”
“Yes?”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Oh.” With no idea what to do next, she waved one hand behind him in a silent plea for help.
Chip and Cogsworth hurried over.
“Promise me one thing,” he said.
“Anything.”
“Don’t ever leave me. I’ll do better.”
She choked out a laugh that was half sob “Never.”
Chip and Cogsworth caught him as his legs went out from under him.
Chapter 39
After a seemingly unceasing whirlwind of visitors to the castle, between the locals, answering the bells, the physician, summoned to see to Sterling, and the magistrate, who promised to return on the morrow after he glimpsed Sterling’s condition, all was quiet and calm.
Sterling lay, bathed, and mended to the best of their abilities and sleeping in his large bed, thanks to whatever the doctor had given him.
At his bedside, Annabelle and Caroline sat vigil in armchairs they’d dragged close.
Downstairs, the tall clock chimed. Nine o’clock. Was that it? It felt as if it should be midnight.
Annabelle eyed Caroline. She had discerned much, but she still had so many questions.
Caroline sent her a weary smile. “You want to know about that night. About what happened.”
“If you would rather wait, I understand. I’ve probably caused enough trouble for one day.”
The dark-haired woman snorted softly. “You did nothing of the sort. And it is past time for you to learn the truth, if that is what you truly desire. I must warn you: You will find the events that took place, specifically, the actions of your brother, disturbing. Are you quite certain you wish to know the details? I wouldn’t blame you if you preferred to remain in blissful ignorance.”
She shook her head. “I think…I think I need the truth. I’ve lived my entire life trying to convince myself that things concerning my brother”—she pressed her lips together, briefly—“and my father, are not as they appear. Many times I’ve berated myself, ashamed of the terrible things I believed of them, as if I was the guilty party for thinking them.”
“I see.”
She glanced at Sterling, touched his bared shoulder. “Not all of us can be blessed with a knight in shining armor for a brother.”
“No, I suppose not,” Caroline said with an indulgent smile. “Very well. I’ll tell you. On the night in question, six of us were to go to the opera and then on to several different soirees. My parents, your parents, Gaston, and myself.
