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CHAPTER 25

LIZZIE

H er name was Nicole.

Nicole Fleming.

Nicole was too nice, too normal of a name. I would have imagined the woman stalking us to have had a more sinister-sounding name, something exotic and hard to pronounce. Nicole sounded like someone you met for coffee or for drinks at the club. Nicole was a name for the girl next door, not the half-crazed, killer ex-girlfriend.

I stared down at a picture of her on the front page of the newspaper. She was in handcuffs with a bulletproof vest placed over her shoulders as she was being led away by countless Special Branch officers. The headline read Would-Be Murderess in Love Triangle with Rich Duke.

We had breakfasted in the conservatory today. The beautiful bamboo cage for Coco and Dior was kept there, and I liked to hear them sing as we ate.

Sitting at the small wrought-iron table with my now-chilling pot of tea and half-eaten chocolate croissant, it almost felt like I was peeking into an unknown world as I looked down at the newspaper with its garish insulting headline.

Richard had multiple daily papers delivered from London. Usually he gave me the culture section while he read the remaining sections, occasionally reading an article he thought I might enjoy out loud, but today the delivery was late. He was already in his study, completing our plans to travel to his private island. I knew he wouldn’t be happy when he learned the staff had let me see the papers.

Ever since our wedding, he had been determined to essentially shut the world out. Refusing to even discuss the investigation with me. I guess his high-handed tactics would upset most women, but I was grateful. It had been over a week, but I still woke up in the middle of the night screaming, seeing drips of crimson blood cloud my vision.

I should feel better now that Nicole was in custody, but the tight clenching fist of fear was still there. It would probably be only a matter of time before the media trespassed on the estate to get a photo or quote from us. The best thing was to leave the country till the drama blew over.

I was completely packed and ready. We were supposed to leave tomorrow on Richard’s private plane. We would have to land in Fiji and then take a helicopter to the island. I couldn’t wait. It was just going to be me and Richard and nothing but white sand and blue water. Heaven.

Picking up the newspaper again, I flipped to the article page. There was another smaller photo of Richard in a tuxedo standing next to Nicole. Apparently, they were linked socially for a brief period of time, but there was no speculation it was serious. After their breakup she had spent time in Bahrain, where the newspaper claimed she became radicalized.

According to the investigators, she had left a trail of damning evidence.

Where had I heard that phrase before? A trail of evidence?

Harris. It was Harris, in the hospital. The conversation I wasn’t supposed to have overheard after Richard got out of surgery.

“Is phase two all set?” asked Richard.

“They’d have to be blind and stupid to not pick up on the damning trail of evidence I left.”

The same sense of cold unease settled in my stomach.

Continuing to read, there was a quote from her barrister, claiming someone had framed Nicole. He stated that the evidence implicating his client was almost too perfect not to be planted and was pressing for a quick trial to vindicate her.

Elizabeth, I will handle this my way. That is what Richard had said when I had asked why he wasn’t telling the police about the phone with the threatening photos.

I knew all too well how Richard liked to handle things.

No. It wasn’t possible. Even Richard wouldn’t take things that far.

It was our wedding! The queen was in attendance!

No, it was ludicrous to even think it.

Despite my weak assurances to myself, I continued to read.

Just as I was finishing the article, the end of a riding crop appeared at the top of the page. It slowly crushed the newspaper down to reveal Richard standing over me in riding attire.

I had been caught. There was no way he didn’t see the large photo of Nicole on the front page. I held my breath, waiting to see what my punishment would be.

Taking his riding crop, he slapped the leather tongue against his palm.

“I had finished early and thought I would surprise you with a final horseback ride through the countryside before we left tomorrow.” His voice was deceptively calm.

I knew better.

I stared at the evil-looking riding crop, remembering the stinging pain it caused.

Garbled memories flashed across my mind from the time I was first brought to this estate. Memories of Richard standing before me in the same dark, tight-fitting frock coat and buff breeches tucked into polished black riding boots holding that same riding crop.

I see you have not given up your fits of temper.

I tried to stop the flood of memories of me begging Richard as he grabbed me by the upper arm and dragged me across the conservatory to a dark corner. The feel of the riding crop punishing my naked breasts. The humiliating memory of him forcing the handle deep inside me… deep inside my… no, stop!

It was in the past.

All in the past.

We knew better now than to play such dangerous games with one another.

Richard had changed.

At least I hoped he had changed.

Richard took the crumpled newspaper from my hands and set it aside, then drew me up from my seat. His arms wrapped around me. I could feel the shaft of the riding crop pressing against my back. A subtle threat.

Giving me a chaste kiss on the forehead, he said, “It’s a beautiful morning, my love. I think it would be better spent enjoying it rather than dwelling on… unpleasant memories. Why don’t you change into your blue riding habit and join me?”

I let out the breath I had been holding. Going up on my toes, I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll get dressed and be right back.”

As I hurried to do his bidding, I felt relief pour over me.

See? He’d changed.

Things would be just fine.

Nicole was no longer a threat, and we were leaving for our honeymoon tomorrow morning.

Everything would be perfect from this point forward.