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“She poisoned him slowly, over the months so that foul play couldn’t be suspected,” Edward said.
“And we were none the wiser,” Ariadne said. “All this while she has been masquerading as our second mother, someone who loves us deeply, but she killed our father.”
“Have you confronted her about it yet?” Edward asked.
“Not yet, no,” Ariadne said.
“It's quite simple indeed,” Leda said. “I say we march out there and confront her.”
Ariadne shook her head. “It isn’t that easy. We want her to confess and we cannot do so if we—” Ariadne stopped midway. Edward turned around to see Emma standing at the door. How long had she been there? Had she heard everything? His suspicion was confirmed when the bowl of soup she was carrying came crashing to the floor.
She turned around to flee, but Edward was faster. He caught up to her in a few great strides and brought her back into the room, pushing her away from the door so that she couldn’t escape again. She stumbled to the floor while Edward took his place between her and the doorframe, blocking her only viable exit. Edward scrutinized her. She didn’t seem to be carrying any weapon. He had hoped to exercise subtlety in the interrogation, but that plan had flown out the window.
“Speak,” he demanded. She had heard their conversation and there was no point in stalling anymore.
“Why did you do this to us?” Ariadne asked.
“We loved you,” Leda said. “You were our mother’s friend. We treated you like our own after she passed and you in return you coldly murdered our father?”
Emma flinched but she didn’t speak, nor did she look up. Maybe she was coming up with excuses already. But Edward could read the guilt in the way she seemed to fold into herself.
“At least have the courage to tell us the truth,” Ariadne said. “We deserve to know why you did it.” Leda walked to her bed and the two sisters clutched each other as they looked down at the older woman with anger and disgust in their eyes.
“I didn’t mean to—” Emma began, her voice barely audible.
“You didn’t mean to kill George Davy or you didn’t mean to get caught?” Edward said.
At his words, she flinched again. Tears began to flow down her cheeks. Any moment now, she would be begging for sympathy but she didn’t. Instead, she asked, “How did you know?”
Ariadne held up the letter to her. “My father left it for me before he died. He knew you were about to kill him.”
Emma gasped. “I…I—”
“Why did you do it?” Leda said. “What could you possibly gain from taking him away from us?”
“I didn’t do it for myself,” she said. This time she looked up and met their gazes. There was remorse in her eyes and something else…madness. She seemed to have been driven by passion and Edward knew immediately that she was telling the truth.
“Who is your master?” he asked.
“I love him, I have loved him for so long. Once upon a time, he wanted me back, but when he grew bored of me as his mistress, he discarded me,” Emma said. She looked up at the sisters. “Now he wants you.”
“Me?” Leda exclaimed.
“Yes, he has wanted to make you his own since you were six-and-ten and blossomed into a beautiful young woman. But he knew your father would never agree for you to become his mistress, nor would he give away his inventions to him.”
“He was after father’s inventions too?” Ariadne asked.
“Yes. He wanted both for himself so he knew George had to be removed for his plan to work,” Emma said, swallowing. “That’s when he came back to me. But that didn’t work because, after her father, Ariadne took his place and became yet another sore thorn in his path. The fire was a swift and easy solution. He needed her to break.”
“Who is he?” Edward asked
Emma looked at him and gave a watery smile, as if finally surrendering all her secrets. “Lord Maxwell Brexley.”
