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Jolted back to her senses, she was shocked to see him kneeling before her. In the back of her mind came the realization that he must have lurched forward to get to her, that his leg must be in horrible pain from the swiftness of his actions; the proof of it was there in the tightness at the corners of his eyes, in his pallor.
And yet, though she ached to comfort him, his words from seconds ago came back to her, quickly drowning out every other thought.
“Aaron wasn’t a deserter?”
Her voice was a mere agonized rasp, hope rising up in her. His eyes gentled, his hand rubbing her arm.
“No,” he murmured.
But another memory surfaced, of him telling her of Aaron’s death, before either of them had known the identity of that doomed boy. “But—” She stopped, nearly gasping from the pain of the recollection, before taking herself firmly in hand and forging on. “You said he was running away from the battle. You witnessed it.”
He looked as if he was in physical pain, a pain that had nothing to do with his leg. “I was mistaken. And I’m so sorry for making you think it was true.”
She swallowed hard, closing her eyes tight. “But you’re not the only one. There is another who claims it’s true as well.”
“The blackmailer.”
She blanched, an instinctual fear ripping through her as her eyes flew open to meet his. “You know about the blackmailer?”
“I do,” he said, his voice low and tight with fury though his eyes were gentle on her. “Moreover, I know who the blackmailer is.”
And then he looked to Newton.
“Oh, God.” The man moaned.
“You’re a bit late for those prayers, man,” Daniel growled.
Margery looked back and forth between the two of them, that same horrible idea from before rising up again. “I don’t understand,” she managed through stiff lips. Though deep inside she feared she did.
“Tell her,” Daniel snarled when the man looked at him with pleading in his eyes.
“Mr. Newton?” His name came from her in an agonized whisper, practically begging him to denounce what Daniel was implying. The man could not be the blackmailer.
“I’m sorry,” he said, tears springing to his eyes as he stared at her in misery. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Kitteridge.”
“It wasyou?” She shook her head, her whole being shying away from the truth of it. “You blackmailed me? You made me believe Aaron deserted his battalion?”
“I’m sorry,” the man repeated hoarsely.
Understanding was finally beginning to dawn on her. No, not to dawn, for dawn implied hope and renewal. This was a falling, like the darkest night. “But you were his friend.” Fury boiled up in her. She lurched to her feet, her hands balling to fists at her sides. “You were his friend, and you would tell such despicable lies about him? Lies that I refused to believe but that started to poison my mind—” A sob cut off the rest of her words. She pressed a fist to her lips, tasting the metallic tinge of blood as her teeth cut into the tender skin of her mouth.
Suddenly Daniel was beside her, his deep voice in her ear. “Margery?”
His comforting presence rallied her. She looked at him, and drawing in a shaking breath, she nodded firmly. “I’m fine, Daniel.”
Mr. Newton, however, seemed to think that was the end of it. He rose, began inching for the door. “I’m glad that’s behind us,” he babbled, as if the faster he talked, the quicker he moved, the better chance he had for escape.
Which only angered Margery the more. “We’re not even close to putting this behind us,” she raged, the fury behind her words sending Mr. Newton back to his seat. She glared down at him, disgust for this man who had claimed to be Aaron’s friend nearly choking her. “You defiled his memory, and for what? Money?”
“You don’t understand,” Newton said, his voice a pitiful whine. “My debts—”
“I don’t care,” she snapped. “I don’t care why you did it. Nothing you can say will ever be reason enough for doing what you did. Had you come to me in need of funds I would have found a way to get them to you, and gladly. You were a friend to my husband; he valued you. I would have done anything in my power to assist you.”
Mr. Newton turned as white as a sheet. “Surely not now.”
“Of course, not now,” she bit out. “You blackmailed me, Mr. Newton. And for an abhorrent untruth.”
“Yes.” Then he did the thing Margery least expected. He looked at Daniel, agony clear in his gaze. “And for my part in Aaron’s death, which His Grace will surely tell you. He was witness to it, after all.”
