Page 105 of An Unwilling Earl
Its throat cut and blood oozing from it, soaking into the bed.
She turned around to run out of the room as a tall shape emerged from the corner, and suddenly Edmund was standing before her.
“What are you doing here?” But she knew. They’d been so stupid, believing that they could stop Edmund.
“She wouldn’t stop talking.” He held a knife in his hand, the metal gleaming in the candlelight.
Charlotte frowned? “She?” Was he referring to the cat? No, that didn’t make sense.
“Mother. She wouldn’t stop talking. On and on she went about you. That’s all she talked about was you. Charlotte this and Charlotte that.” His voice rose to imitate the pitch of a woman.
Charlotte swallowed. “She’s a horrible woman, Edmund. She’s not nice at all.”
“Don’t say that about my mother.”
She took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”
He took a step forward.
“She’s dead now.”
Charlotte’s blood ran cold, and her head swam.No. No, no, no, no.
“What did you do?” she whispered.
“I killed her.”
“Edmund…” Her tongue was suddenly stuck to the roof of her mouth, and fear immobilized her. Jacob. She needed to get to Jacob. She needed to warn Jacob.
But Edmund was in her way, and she couldn’t get past him.
“You’re right. She wasn’t nice,” he said. “She was horrid.”
“Yes, she was.” Charlotte grabbed onto that like the lifeline it was. “We can tell the police. I can go with you and tell them what a horrible person she was. She deserved to die. She was mean to you.”
What had happened when O’Leary and his men arrived at the house? Had Edmund panicked and killed Aunt Martha? But he said she wouldn’t stop talking. Had he killed her before they even got there?
“She was mean. She called me names all the time.”
This was the longest conversation Charlotte had ever had with Edmund, and she felt like she was talking to a child. It was as if he were in a trance, and his eyes were blank, like they’d been the day he’d destroyed her doll.
“I can help you,” she said softly.
He seemed to think about that. “No. You must die, too.”
Fear battered her rib cage, and she could barely breathe. “Please, Edmund. We can find a way out of this.”
He was shaking his head as he moved toward her. Charlotte backed up, farther away from the door. He was going to back her into a corner if she didn’t do something.
Where is Jacob?
Where was Mrs. Smith? Edmund better not have hurt her.
With a wild scream, hoping to alert Jacob, Charlotte charged toward Edmund, lifting her skirts as she ran.
For a moment he stared at her with that blank look, and she tried to veer to the left side of him, away from the hand holding the knife. But he caught her, raised the knife, and plunged it toward her.
…
