Victoria backed away.
“I didn’t know.”
My chest tightened.
“Know what?”
“I swear I didn’t know.”
“Victoria.”
She began crying.
“When Margaret contacted Adelaide, a letter reached our house by mistake. Father opened it.”
My blood turned cold.
“He told me Margaret was blackmailing us. He said she planned to destroy the family.”
“You sent money to Dr. Bell.”
“Father told me Bell could frighten her.”
Nathaniel went completely still.
Victoria covered her mouth.
“He said it would make Margaret sick for a day. Maybe two. Enough to make her stop interfering.”
Nathaniel’s voice was nearly inaudible.
“You paid the man who poisoned my wife?”
“I didn’t know he would kill her!”
“You paid him.”
“I was nineteen!”
“So?”
“I trusted my father!”
Nathaniel moved toward her.
I stepped between them.
Not because Victoria was innocent.
She wasn’t.
But rage had transformed Nathaniel’s face.
“Nathaniel.”
His breathing was hard.
“She killed Margaret.”
“No,” Father said pleasantly.
Everyone looked at him.
He smiled.
“She didn’t.”
Victoria stared.
Father walked slowly toward the desk.
“Victoria sent the money. Bell provided the tonic.”
He shrugged.
“But Margaret never drank enough to kill her.”
Mrs. Bell frowned.
“What?”
Father looked almost proud.
“She became suspicious after the first dose.”
Nathaniel’s revolver rose.
“Then how did she die?”
Charles looked at him.
“Ask your housekeeper.”
Mrs. Bell went white.
I turned toward her.
“What does he mean?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
Charles smiled wider.
“You’ve kept secrets long enough, Martha.”
Nathaniel stared at Mrs. Bell.
“Martha?”
She began trembling.
“I’m sorry.”
“Tell me.”
She looked at him.
Tears streamed down her face.
“Margaret didn’t die from poison.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“What killed her?” I whispered.
Mrs. Bell sobbed.
“The baby.”
Nathaniel lowered his gun.
“What?”
“She went into labor early during the storm.”
His face emptied.
“She told me the baby was coming, but she begged me not to tell you she had ever been pregnant.”
Mrs. Bell could barely speak.
“The child was turned wrong. There was bleeding. So much bleeding.”
Nathaniel gripped the chair.
“I could have helped.”
“No one could.”
“Why didn’t she call me?”
“Because she wasn’t alone.”
Silence.
My pulse thudded painfully.
“Who was with her?”
Mrs. Bell looked directly at me.
Then everything changed.
“There was another woman at Silver Creek that night.”
Nathaniel frowned.
“What woman?”
Mrs. Bell whispered a name.
“Eleanor Whitmore.”
My mother.
I laughed.
I actually laughed because the alternative was screaming.
“My mother was in Missouri.”
“No,” Mrs. Bell said.
“She wasn’t.”
“That was impossible. I was fourteen. I remember when she died.”
“You remember being told she died.”
My knees weakened.
Father said nothing.
That was when I knew.
I turned slowly toward him.
“No.”
His expression answered before his mouth did.
“Mother survived?”
“For a while.”
My entire childhood cracked open.
Mrs. Bell continued.
“Eleanor discovered Charles was poisoning her. Margaret helped her escape before the final dose could kill her.”
Father’s eyes hardened.
“Traitors, both of them.”
I nearly lunged at him.
Nathaniel stopped me.
Mrs. Bell spoke faster.
“Eleanor came to Texas. Margaret hid her here.”
“Where?”
“In the old north cabin.”
I remembered it—a collapsed structure Nathaniel had said had been abandoned for years.
“She was weak,” Mrs. Bell said. “Very weak. But alive.”
I could barely force out the words.
“Why didn’t she come for me?”
“She intended to.”
Mrs. Bell wept.
“She was gathering evidence so she could return safely and take you away from Charles.”
“What happened?”
“The night Margaret went into labor, Eleanor came to the house because the storm was worsening. She helped me.”
Mrs. Bell pressed both hands to her mouth.
