Page 26 of Between a Duke and a Hard Place (The Honeywells #1)
Chapter Twenty-Five
L ord Eddington staggered through the imposing doors of Wellston Hall, disheveled, his coat torn and smeared with dirt and blood. His usually impeccable appearance was now a canvas of chaos, presenting a stark contrast to the stately home’s dignified aura.
Nigel and Ethella, Violet's calculating relatives, were gathered in the opulent drawing room, their expressions a mixture of surprise and concern. "Eddington, what has happened to you, man?” Nigel asked, his voice barely hiding his anxiety.
Brushing off the dirt from his coat, Eddington mustered a grimace that might pass for a smile. “I am unharmed, I assure you," he replied, his tone dismissive as he glanced around, ensuring their privacy. Violet’s blood had smeared over his waistcoat when he’d removed her from his horse. The ruse was necessary under the circumstances to avoid questions.
Ethella, cold and sharp as ever, stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. "Then why are you here, Eddington? You look like you’ve been dragged halfway around the county."
Eddington's gaze locked onto Ethella’s, a dark plan forming behind his eyes. “And that is precisely what you, and anyone else who sees me is meant to think, madam,” he snapped. “Do mind your tongue when you speak to me. I came here because events have occurred that necessitate altering our original plan. But never fear, for I have found a way to turn our misfortunes around."
Nigel’s eyes widened, his spineless nature making him shrink slightly under Eddington’s intense stare. "What do you mean? What are you planning now?”
“I paid a visit to Alstead Manor earlier,” he said with a shrug. “I saw Violet alone in the garden with some foul-tempered mongrel that she’s taken up with. Catching her alone was a temptation I could not resist, but alas… my temper got the better of me.”
Nigel gaped at him for a moment, before rallying. “What have you done to Violet?”
“Oh do not take on so. You’re worse than an old woman,” Eddington snapped dismissively. “It was an accident brought about by that mutt of hers. Sadly, the Duke of Alstead will now be twice widowered.”
Ethella, a much more pragmatic thinker son, simply shrugged. “It’s a complication but not an insurmountable one. Naturally, this will alter the terms of repayment for Nigel’s debt. We cannot be held accountable for your actions in murdering the very girl you demanded as payment.”
“Naturally?” Eddington queried. “You’ll not get out of it that easily. With Violet dead, and that forged letter regarding James’ death, there is no longer any impediment to your taking full ownership of Wellston—and then granting it to me… I would pay you a small fee, of course. I’m not a complete ogre. The estate is worth slightly more than your debt, after all.”
“You’re forgetting the Duke. He will fight us tooth and nail,” Nigel pointed out.
With a sly grin, Eddington leaned in, his words laced with venom. "Tonight, I will retrieve Violet's body from where it lies hidden and return it to Alstead Manor… Back to the very garden I plucked her from today.” His smile widened as he savored their shocked expressions. “And, this Nigel, is where your part begins. You will deliver an anonymous message to the local magistrate, accusing the Duke, of murdering his young bride. Their rows are legendary, after all. Who would not believe that, in a fit of temper, things went just a shade too far?”
Ethella remained composed, her calculating mind already assessing the implications. "And why, pray tell, would Nigel aid you in this? If he is caught, he would be implicated!”
Eddington’s laugh was low and menacing. "It’s simple. Nigel owes me, and he’s failed to pay up. Plus, he wasted my time with promises about Violet that he couldn’t keep. This way, I clear my debts and get my revenge… and should he refuse, I will not lay her murder at the Duke’s feet, but at his.”
Nigel, pale and visibly shaking, looked to Ethella for support, but his aunt was as stone-faced as ever. "You'll bring ruin upon us all," he whispered.
Ethella, however, seemed unfazed. "If we were to... assist you in this plan? What then? Do we stand to gain your favor?"
"Indeed," Eddington replied, his eyes glinting with malice. "Help me, and I assure you, your debts will be considered paid. And perhaps more... opportunities might arise for those willing to show their loyalty during... difficult times."
As Eddington outlined his dark scheme, the corridors of Wellston Hall seemed to close in, the shadows deepening around them. By the time he left, a pact of treachery was sealed, one that promised to ensnare the innocent and the weak in a web spun from greed and vengeance.
If he’d bothered to take note of Nigel, he might have seen something in the man that heretofore had never reared its head. Resolve.
As Violet regained consciousness, the forest around her was dimming into twilight. The ground beneath her was cold and hard, and her head throbbed painfully with each small movement she made. For the longest moment, she had no notion of where she was. Of how she came to be there. As she lay there, trying to piece together her last memories— snippets of it came rushing back. Eddington’s threatening figure looming over her, the sharp pain in her head, and then darkness.
The chill of the evening air and the rustling of leaves brought her fully to her senses. Fear pricked at her as she realized she was alone, vulnerable, and injured in the vast woods. But there were worse things than being alone. She could still be lying in that same spot, helpless, when Eddington returned.
With a determined effort, she pushed herself up, leaning heavily against a nearby tree trunk for support. Everything swam before her eyes and she closed them against the wave of dizziness. When at least she felt steadier on her feet, she opened her eyes once more and looked about her. The forest seemed vast and unfriendly, with shadows that morphed into menacing shapes and sounds that hinted at unseen dangers.
Violet knew she couldn’t stay where she was—Eddington would return to do away with her permanently or he would send someone else in his stead. She needed Max. She needed her husband.
The thought of Max, waiting for her, believing in her, fueled her will to move. She thought of his steady, reassuring presence and how he’d want her to be brave. This gave her the strength to start moving, even as her body protested the effort.
Stumbling forward, using the trees as her guide and support, Violet dragged herself through the underbrush that clawed at her skirts. Each step was labored, her head spinning with dizziness and her stomach pitching with nausea. But the thought of reaching Max, of seeing his relief and joy at finding her safe, pushed her onward.
The woods were deep and the path unclear. Every noise startled her, from the crack of a branch underfoot to the distant howl of an animal. Yet these same woods that seemed so threatening also gave her cover, allowing her to stay hidden should Eddington or anyone else be searching.
As the light faded, Violet’s journey became even harder. She was guided only by the faint moonlight that filtered through the dense canopy above. Her pace slowed, her energy sapped by her efforts and her injury, but her resolve did not waver.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the trees began to thin. The edge of the woods came into sight, signaling the end of her ordeal. She emerged from the tree line, the open sky above her a welcome sight after the oppressive darkness of the forest. Though physically weakened, her spirit soared with the knowledge that she had overcome the immediate danger on her own.
As she stepped out into the open, Violet’s thoughts turned again to Max. She imagined his anxious face turning to relief, his arms ready to hold her safe and secure. With that image burning bright in her mind, she gathered her remaining strength and moved towards the safety and love she knew awaited her with Max.