A Thief for a Bride

Thief for a Bride (chapter fifteen - The Truth)

Genevieve paced back and forth across the floor of Desmond’s study in front of the fireplace. She couldn’t sit down or she felt she would go crazy. Her husband was now in jail and due to face the gallows in less than six hours. For some reason it seemed a tradition for any hangings to take place at exactly noon. She heard someone knock at the door and sighed. If Isabel came to check on her one more time she was going to scream. She loved the young maid but she needed time alone to think about what to do. She bided whoever it was to enter and was surprised to see Edgar standing there. She just stared at him for a moment before shaking her head in dismay.

“Tell me what to do, Edgar,” she pleaded as silent tears fell down her cheeks. “Everything is in such chaos right now; I don’t know what I should do.” Edgar sat her down on the lounge chair and sat next to her.

“You knew who Desmond really was this entire time,” Genevieve asked and Edgar nodded.

“It is a butler’s duty to know everything about his master,” he replied. “Even if it means he has to hide certain things from his mistress.” Genevieve laid her head on his shoulder and wept as Edgar put his arms around her as if he were comforting a granddaughter. “Everything will be all right, Genevieve. You’ll see.” They sat there for what felt like hours, Genevieve had just started to dry her tears when the door to the room opened and Isabel stepped in.

“My lady?” she said quietly. “There is a man here to see you.”

“Tell him Lady La Croix is in not well and cannot see him today,” Edgar put in.

“But he says it’s urgent,” Isabel added. “He said he can save Lord La Croix.” Genevieve sat up straight and stared at Isabel. She wondered who it could be. Who would be bold enough to say they could break someone out of jail besides one of Raven’s allies? If it had been one of them, they probably would have just used the window like Paul had rather than risk the front door.

“Please, show him to the library, Isabel,” Genevieve said as she stood and smoothed her hands over her clothes. Isabel nodded and left the room as well as Edgar. Genevieve looked in the mirror to make sure she was presentable before making her way to the library. She opened the door and suddenly wasn’t surprised at who was standing by the window. It was the same man she had seen at the wedding party. He was dressed in the same style as he had worn that night.

“My lady,” the man said as he moved towards her and bowed over her hand and kissed it. He had a strong Italian accent that went right along with his style choice. “It is wonderful to see you again. I just wish it was under more enjoyable circumstances.”

“Your name is Stephan, correct?” Genevieve asked and the man nodded.

“Stephan Lorenzi,” he added. “I am here to help save your husband, since I seem to be the one responsible for putting him in this situation.” When Genevieve looked suspicious he held up his hands in a friendly gesture. “Please, let me explain.” He sat her down in one of the large arm chairs in front of the fire place as he seemed to ponder how to start his explanation. “If I may be so bold, Genevieve, what is the earliest memory you have of your childhood?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” she admitted, staring into the fire as she tried to remember those hard days. “My earliest memory is of my brother and I picking pockets just to stay alive one more day. I was only ten, Crispin was eight.” She looked up into the man’s face again and he seemed unsurprised to hear what she was saying. “But you already know this, don’t you?”