Page 49 of Zenith
18
“Isupposeit is safe to assume Blanche said no.”
Edward slapped the newspaper on the table before me, rattling the silverware of my place setting. I was just sitting down to breakfast when he strode into the room in a whirlwind of fury.
I hadn’t expected an answer for some time yet as Mr. Briggs had only met with Blanche’s lawyer the day before. It would be wise for people to consider their options when presented with evidence they’d committed a crime as heinous as attempted murder…wouldn’t it?
Picking up the newspaper—as Edward paced like a raging lion—my eyes widened in shock as I beheld the headline.
‘Secrets, Murder, Fraud, and Lies. The Hidden Shame of the Rochester Dynasty.’
Edward’s mobile phone began to ring, and he answered it with a snap, striding from the room. “Talk to me,” he commanded. “Tell me you have a contingency plan.”
I watched him go and stared at the door for a long time before I blinked and glanced away. No doubt, he would be embroiled with his staff in Paris for the entire day in an attempt to squash the story before it spread further. His business would have been impacted by now, negative ramifications shock waving through the ranks of all his holdings worldwide. The news wasn’t limited to a print run these days. It had instant global syndication, and hundreds if not thousands of news outlets would’ve picked up the story by now.
And breakfast wasn’t even over yet.
I hadn’t read the article, but I didn’t have to to understand the entire world now knew of what was happening at Thornfield. We were cut open and exposed for the entire world to feast upon. Obscurity never felt so desirable than it did to me right then.
“Jane.”
Edward had returned, and I glanced up at him, my hands still wrapped around the newspaper.
“Put that thing away,” he said, his brow dark with a raging typhoon.
“Can’t you tell your side of the story?” I asked. “Can’t you explain—”
“There’s no point,” he interrupted.
“No point?” I inquired, aghast his attitude had not changed in the slightest. He had no fight in him! I could not believe a man as strong-willed as Edward Rochester could just sit back and allow his entire life to be dragged through the mud with no chance of recourse.
“It is done,” he said simply, causing me to rise to my feet and almost turn the table up on its end.
“No!” I exclaimed. “The story has only been out a few hours. Surely, there is adequate time for a rebuttal.”
“It is too late,” he murmured, turning his back on me.
It was lucky Adele and Georgiana had departed the night before. Adele had gone back to her hometown of Paris to visit with her family, and Georgiana had returned to Gateshead. I did not want either of them dragged into this mess more than they already had been. Their devotion to our case had been admirable, and the evidence had been acquired with great risk to both parties. I could not ask more of them.
My thoughts went to Bertha next and her continued residence at Thornfield. I couldn’t gloss over the fact she needed to be addressed like a problem, and it did not sit well with me at all. She’d stabbed me with the intent to kill, but she was completely insane and had been manipulated by Blanche.
“What of Bertha?” I asked.
“The Mason’s will be clawing at the door at any moment, but that is if they can fight their way through the wall of journalists and paparazzi hiding in every nook and cranny outside our front door!”
“What journalists?” I asked, turning to the windows.
“They arrived early this morning,” Edward explained, glancing over his shoulder at me. “The groundskeeper stumbled over a group hiding just over the fence line. His dog almost had their throats. Vultures, the lot of them.”
“Her cruelty astounds me,” I muttered in disbelief.
“Insanity does not have to touch one’s mind to act like it.”
Edward crossed the room, his arms winding around my waist. Sinking against his chest, I clung to him, my entire body, mind, and soul steeped in a thick layer of depression.
“If she is so bent on destroying you, then she can have a taste of her own medicine,” I blurted with a passion I hardly thought I possessed.
“Could you do that, Jane?” he asked, gently urging me to stand back so he could look upon my face. “I don’t think you can. That is one of the many things I love about you, dear spirit. You do not lower yourself to vulgar standards in order to seek revenge.”
