Page 103 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

I watched the disapproving glances at the prince, the news carrying like wildfire. My words had rung true and the dowager countess’s friendship with the queen seemed to seal the matter. Stefan would find no bride in England. In fact, I’d be surprised if he ever came back.

Stefan stood bewildered, unsure of his next move. He glanced appealingly at Helena, who gave him a cool glance and turned her back.

Nick appeared at my shoulder.

He held out his hand. “Shall we get out of here?”

I didn’t think I had ever heard sweeter words.

CHAPTER FORTY

Nick and I retreated to the library. I was breathing hard, as if I had just run a race.

“We did it!” I exclaimed, flinging my arms around him.

“You did it!” He spun me around before setting me back on the floor. “You were spectacular.”

“Did you see his face?” I said. “When he realized it was all falling down around him, all his careful plans?”

“I did.” Nick nodded. “I only wish Lila could have been here.”

“It will never be enough,” I said, “but it’s a small act of revenge for what he took from her. And at least others will be warned. No more hiding behind that Prince Charming facade. Thanks to your grandmother the news will be all over town before the week is out.”

Nick wrapped his arms around me and I rested my head against his chest, hearing the reassuring, steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“How very moving.” A frozen voice came from behind me. It was a voice I knew all too well.

I turned to find Helena standing in front of the door, her features sharpened by barely concealed rage.

She stepped forward, the movement rigid and controlled.

“I knew you would bring me nothing but misery, Iris Scott-Holland.” She spat the words. “I knew it from the moment I laid eyes on you, all those years ago. The way you had your father wrapped around your little finger.”

I stood, tall and unyielding, as she confronted me with a truth I had tried for so long to keep hidden. I was Iris Scott-Holland. Nick was right – I always had been. And it seemed that this particular battle was not about to wait any longer.

Fine with me.

“I never wanted to make your life harder,” I said, stepping away from Nick so that I could face her alone. This was my fight, after all. “I was just a child, grieving for her mother.”

“From the start you were always between us,” Helena snapped. “It seemed as though you were his only concern, outside his bloody horses. But I was his wife. His wife. He should have put me first. We might have had a chance had it not been for you.”

“I know that you killed him.”

The words spilled into the room, sucking all the air out of it. Helena’s face grew still; her eyes became watchful.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It must have been easy to get him to drink more. He was cruel enough to force you to fill his flask for him,” I said softly. “Easy to top it up a little higher, a little more often.”

Helena’s gaze didn’t leave my face.

“You knew the route he rode every day, knew the state he would be in by the time he reached the wood. Knew that no one would question an accident. His drinking was no secret … well, not from anyone but me, I suppose. It wouldn’t have been complicated to tie something across his path, to wrap something around the trees, something taut and strong, something light enough to be invisible. Did you creep out later to remove the thread yourself or did you have someone else do it? Did you do it that night? Did you make sure he was dead and then leave him there?” My voice trembled here, and I brought it back under control.

“Whatever it was, you made a mistake. You dropped the bobbin of silver thread, left it behind in the woods for Agatha and Cassie to find.”

Helena started at that. I had thought her face was leeched of colour already, yet now it seemed to turn paler still.