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“This isn’t a conspiracy against you or anything.” Abigail drew herself up, pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin in a defiant manner. “Regardless of what’s going on between you and your husband, it doesn’t affect us. Arthur and I love each other, and that has nothing to do with whatever is going on.”
Victoria’s mouth fell open. Abigail had never spoken back to her like this before.
“Nothing to do with whatever is going on? Everyone in this house is affiliated with a murderer! You think I want to be around that?”
“That’s if Lord Blackmore did kill Mr Hayward.”
“What are you talking about? Of course, he did! Why would you think otherwise?”
“Because there were no witnesses, and all the evidence could easily mean something else.”
Victoria snorted.
“I don’t see how. And what have the witnesses got to do with anything?”
Abigail sighed.
“Arthur has spoken about the pain that Lord Blackmore has been suffering from since he came back from America.”
“Of course he’s suffering. He’s got a guilty conscience from what he did.”
“That’s not what he meant. Every night, he suffers, and Arthur is at a loss what to do with him. The pain he sees every day is clear, and it’s a lot of it.”
Victoria put her hands on her hips.
“Are you saying that because he suffers every night and looks to be in pain that he’s innocent? Abigail, I thought you were a clever girl.”
“Arthur is an astute man….”
“He’s loyal to his master.”
“He hasn’t seen Lord Blackmore for a number of years. He sees the difference between the past and the present. We may never really know what happened that day, but Arthur is sure that Lord Blackmore didn’t kill Mr Hayward.” Abigail paused. “I believe he didn’t, either.”
Victoria felt like her maid had just slapped her. How could she think like that?
“And you think that because your lover is telling you, don’t you?” she sneered.
Abigail pressed her lips together.
“My lady, I have been your maid for a long time, and I care about you. But this hatred towards Lord Blackmore is making you very bitter. It’s consuming you, and you are not willing to look at things differently.”
“How differently should I look at something simple?”
“Sometimes, simple is not the right way to go.”
Victoria didn’t want to hear any more. It was making her angry. She waved her hand towards the door.
“Get out of my sight.”
“Don’t you want help getting ready? You normally go for a walk about now….”
“I can do it myself. I don’t want you anywhere near me. Now get out.”
Abigail hesitated. But she dropped a quick curtsy and then left the room, closing the door behind her. Victoria staggered to the bed and sat down, her chest tightening. This couldn’t be happening. Her one and only friend in the house, the only person she could trust, was on Blackmore’s side. She seemed so sure that he didn’t kill her brother.
But he did. He had the rifle that killed Richard in his hands, he was covered in blood, and he looked like he had been in a fight. Plus, Gregory had said they had been fighting beforehand. It had to be him.
And yet there was something niggling in her belly. The first signs of doubt, which left Victoria feeling both shaken and confused. What did that mean? Did something Abigail say to her change something? Victoria doubted it; she didn’t think anything could change her mind.
