“You didn’t see the look on his face! He killed the Beast on a lark because he was bored with him. He ripped his heart out of his chest like he was pulling weeds.”
Elizabeth pulled at her collar, pacing. “He doesn’t ever do it from malice. He’d never hurt any of us intentionally.”
“As long as we do what he wants,” I said. “What if we refuse to play games and read him stories?” My gaze dropped to the ring of bruises around her wrist, and she tugged on her sleeve anxiously.
“I’ve managed him for fifteen years,” she said. “I can keep him under control now. I’ll have two girls watch him at all times. In the meantime, I sent Lily to clean up the kitchen and winter garden and to attend to the Beast’s body. You should all change clothes. You’re covered in blood.”
Lucy looked down at her dress as if only just realizing this. “I want to help,” she said in a shaky voice. “With the body. That was Edward once, and the least I can do for him is take care of him now.”
She started for the door.
“Wait,” Elizabeth said, and Lucy paused. “There’s something else we need to discuss, and you’re an important part of it, Lucy.” She turned to Montgomery and me. “When the Beast locked us in the cellar, Balthazar told me what happened when you pursued Valentina.”
I exchanged a glance with Montgomery. “Her death was an accident. We didn’t kill her.”
“I believe you,” Elizabeth said. “Her death is unfortunate—she was an essential part of this place. We shall notify the younger girls in due time, but at the moment I’m more concerned with Mr. Radcliffe. Balthazar told me he’s the one who’s been looking for you. Are you positive he didn’t follow you back here?”
“Beyond a doubt,” Montgomery said. “Balthazar would have smelled horses following us. We’ll have to avoid any cities for a few months, maybe even a year or two, but that’s a small price to pay for our safety.”
Lucy had flinched at the sound of her father’s name. “Papa is the one after us?”
I cast her a worried look. “Oh, Lucy, I’m sorry. I hadn’t wanted you to find out. Don’t worry, we were able to lose him in Inverness. The manor’s location is still secret.”
“B . . . but the article Papa wrote in the newspaper,” Lucy stammered. “He said he repented his association with the King’s Club. He said it was all a mistake on his part.”
“We think he was just trying to clear his name and cast off any suspicion about his true intentions,” Montgomery said.
“His true intentions?” Her face had gone quite white.
“Retaliation, we think. For killing his colleagues.”
“But what about the part where he said he and Mother were worried about me? Couldn’t that be why he’s after us, to find me?”
“I don’t think so,” I said softly. “I can’t imagine it was anything other than a ruse to draw you out and lead him to us. I’m sorry. I know what it feels like. My father used my affections for him as well.”
Lucy hugged her arms over her bloody dress as though she refused to believe it. “So they don’t care about me at all?” She dragged a hand through her wild hair and started for the hall in a daze, choking out a sob. I went after her, but Montgomery shook his head.
“Give her some time. It’s a lot to take in.”
Elizabeth reached for the bottle of gin, hands shaking slightly, pouring herself a glass. “The poor girl.” She took a sip, closing her eyes, leaning one hand against the wooden bookshelves. “And I still can’t believe Valentina would turn on you like that. I thought I knew her better. We shall have to hold a funeral for her, regardless. For the Beast as well, I suppose, even if he was a monster.”
“No,” I said. “We’ll mourn Edward’s passing, not the Beast’s. It was Edward we all cared about, particularly Lucy. You saw how distraught she was just now. . . .” I paused, head cocked toward the door where Lucy had disappeared. She had been upset over the news of her father’s pursuit, yes, but she hadn’t actually said a word about Edward. It felt strange, given how in love with Edward she had been, that she wasn’t mourning his death more.
An itch tickled behind my left ear, the start of an idea. Or rather, a suspicion.
Lucy had wanted Edward dead all along so we could cure him through reanimation. She’d admitted to unfastening the chains and planning to slit his throat while he was sleeping. That was all before the Beast’s wild rampage, of course, but the fact was, she had achieved what she’d set out to do.
Edward was dead—just as she’d wanted.
Was it possible that she still held on to some desire to bring him back?