Page 74 of When We Touch

He couldn’t contradict that. “The point is, you running about and screaming will only draw scandal upon the family.”

“The wedding was scandal enough,” she said icily.

Jamie sighed. “Arianna, I’m not particularly one to care much what is said myself. But you’re young now. And it may prove wise that you care, because, in the future, there might be a young man. And though he will surely love you with all his heart for you and you alone, he may be a man of note, a nobleman, perhaps, with a family determined that he marry a young woman of good reputation.”

“As I’ve just said, the wedding was scandal enough.”

“Your father’s choice, not yours. But if you run about saying these things, your name could become tainted with every manner of evil thing said.”

“If there is to be an autopsy, I’ll not say another word. But what will you do, Jamie, if it’s proved that she did do something?”

He stared at Arianna and answered flatly, “I’ll see that she is prosecuted.”

“Hanged!” Arianna said.

“I disagreed with your father’s decision to marry, Arianna, but I don’t believe that she’s guilty of any wrongdoing in his death. If it proves to be true, then I will see that she’s prosecuted.”

“Hanged.”

“We’ll not go in circles here, Arianna. I am not judge and jury.”

She nodded, then, at last. And huge tears of loss came to her eyes again.

“Arianna—”

“I’m fine, Jamie. Honestly. As I said, I just need to be alone.”

At last, not at all comfortable, Jamie decided that maybe he had best leave her be.

* * *

When he was gone, Arianna closed her door. And locked it.

Tears streamed down her face, and she walked about the room, swearing. Swearing in English, and then in French.

Jamie would be appalled if he heard her!

But Jamie continued to think of her as a child. A child! No, not at all. But he’d never understand such things. Neither he nor her father would have ever suspected the way the highborn young ladies had managed to slip beneath the noses of their guardian nuns.

But now . . .

School days were over. The point was that she was really far more mature and world-wary than Jamie would ever suspect.

And her father was dead.

And that wicked witch might be her guardian until her birthday.

No . . . never. Never!

Her birthday was just a matter of months. And what did that matter? The wicked witch might very well have murdered her father, no matter what Jamie had to say. A single day with that hateful woman having any kind of say over her whatsoever was too much!

She wouldn’t allow it, she simply wouldn’t allow it!

But that was not the worst of it. One way or another, with assistance or pure cunning, the woman had murdered her father. And she had to pay for it. Except that not even Jamie would accept the fact that murder had taken place. There was going to be an autopsy. That might prove that some foul play had befallen her father. But what if the autopsy showed nothing? Then, Jamie would never prosecute, never insist that she answer before a court of law, or even bring up such a matter to the Queen.

Arianna felt a new stream of tears well from her eyes.

She had to pay. The witch had to pay!