Page 29 of A Scandal at Stonecliffe

“He killed her?” Nathan exclaimed.

“No. A fever took her. But my stepfather had killed her soul first—she had no will to live, and she went easily.”

“I’m so sorry.” Nathan again reached out to Verity.

She took a step back with a sharp shake of her head. She could not bear the kindness in his eyes. It threatened the steel box she’d locked up this part of her life in. “Naturally, he was named our guardian after mother died. And we had nowhere to go, in any case. My mother’s parents had returned to France, and my father’s family had not acknowledged us after he eloped with Mama. We were solely dependent on our stepfather, with no one to turn to.”

“What happened?” Nathan asked grimly.

“Once, I went into his private office for paper and an envelope. He found me writing a letter to our grandparents in France about how scared I was for Poppy. He ripped it out of my hands and tried to hit me, but I dodged the blow and ran into the adjoining sitting room.” The memory flooded through Verity now, more charged and immediate than it had any right to be after so many years. “My defiance would flip this switch in him and his eyes would turn dark and deadly, like there was no person behind them—just pure rage. He started after me and I threw his porcelain snuff box at him. It shattered and he charged at me, furious, so I grabbed a fireplace poker and swung it across a table, sending everything crashing to the floor. He yelled that I was crazed, and I said I was—and vengeful, as well. And if he touched me or Poppy, it would be last thing he’d ever do. After that he left us alone. I believe he was a little frightened of me.”

“Can’t imagine why.” The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Nathan’s mouth.

Verity answered with a tiny smile of her own. It was going better than she’d expected. But she hadn’t reached the worst part. “I was careful to always be with Poppy. She was only seven years old and more sensitive than I ever was. I was helped by the servants, who loved her and knew our stepfather for what he was. But then one day the headmistress of a school came to our house, and I was told he was sending me to finishing school. I refused. At one point I believe I kicked the woman in the shins.”

“A natural reaction.”

Verity nodded faintly. “Needless to say, she refused to take me. But I suspected that was not the last of his tricks to get rid of me, and I was afraid one of them might work and Poppy would be left alone. So I told the vicar in town.” Verity’s sour expression did not go unnoticed.

“What? Did he not believe you?” Nathan asked.

“I’m not sure. Either way, he was beholden to my stepfather—his job depended on keeping him happy. The vicar told me I should honor my father, as the Bible instructed. I said he wasn’t my father. It went downhill from there. I thought about running away, but we had nowhere to go. I didn’t know how we’d survive. And then...”

Verity paused to take a breath, the years-old fear tugging at her chest again.

“Verity, if this is too much...” Nathan looked regretful. With anyone else, Verity would have assumed it was because he wished he never asked, but Nathan just seemed sad she had gone through all this.

“I want to finish.” Verity’s eyebrows knitted together. “I want you to know...me. Our stepfather took us back to the London house. I was glad until I realized why. He had decided to put me in a madhouse.”

“My God.”

“They didn’t get me. I saw them and their wagon, and I knew what he planned. I had to escape, but I couldn’t take Poppy with me. But I wasn’t about to leave her alone with him, either—I knew what would happen. So I opened a window and made it look as if I’d gone out that way, and I went up to the attic and hid. They took the bait and went running out after me. That evening, I crept down, intending to gather Poppy and a few belongings and run. He was already there in our room.”

Verity’s hand started to tremble and before she could even think to pull away, Nathan was holding it. His palm was warm and comforting so she let it be.

“Poppy looked so small and pitiful, quaking with fear and crying, as he thundered at her. He told her that he would make sure she didn’t grow up like me, that she would learn obedience. But she stood there like a little soldier and told him she was just like me.” Verity’s voice thickened with unshed tears at the memory. “He raised his hand to hit her, but I got there in time, and I whacked him over the head with the closest thing at hand. It was, ironically enough, a Bible. He was so startled by my attack that it sent him stumbling back. He fell and hit his head on the marble top of a dresser. I remember the awful crack it made. The blood soaking into the rug. I grabbed Poppy, and we ran.”

“But that wasn’t murder,” Nathan protested. “You were a child. And you were defending your sister from a monster.”

“Oh, Nathan,” Verity said sadly, shaking her head. “Spoken like a gentleman who has rights. Poppy and I were his wards. He had complete control over us, and we had nothing. We had no defender. Just like my mother. A wife and children are completely in a father’s power, he can beat them bloody if he wishes. You must know that.”

Nathan flushed and said quietly, “Yes, I know. I’m sorry. It’s wrong. But, still, it wasn’t as if you meant to do it.”

“It’s true that cracking his skull on the marble was an accident. My blow wasn’t hard enough to kill him. But I wanted to kill him. I would have struck him the same if I’d had that fireplace poker in my hand instead of a book. I was glad he was dead.” She looked straight into Nathan’s eyes. “I’m not like you, Nathan. I can be savage inside. Perhaps I am a bit crazed.”

“You’re not,” Nathan told her flatly. “And everyone can be savage inside sometimes. If he were here right now, I’d beat him to a bloody pulp.”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t kill him.”

“I would if it was to protect someone I love.”

To protect Annabeth. But she didn’t echo her thought aloud. Nathan was still being so kind to her, so understanding. And Verity knew the pain that would twist his expression if she mentioned his former love. Nathan didn’t deserve that. “Even so, it would haunt you.”

“It has haunted you.”

“No. I was hunted, not haunted. I’ve never felt remorse over it. I was scared afterward, but I didn’t regret what I’d done. I searched his desk for money and took my mother’s jewels with us. I knew they’d be after me. No one would have believed I was innocent of cold-blooded murder. After all, I’d told him I would end him if he touched Poppy. I have little doubt he told others of my threat when he was constructing an excuse to put me in an asylum. My kicking that headmistress wouldn’t have helped my case, either. The vicar’s opinion probably would have weighed against me, too.”

“How did you live?”