‘It really isn’t up to me, Molly,’ Gideon cut in firmly. ‘But maybe once he’s explained you’ll excuse some of my behaviour over the last couple of days,’ he added frowningly.
‘I wouldn’t count on it!’ Molly told him hardly, even as she turned and began to walk back to the house.
‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’ Gideon caught up with her after only a couple of strides, Merlin trailing along obediently behind him.
Molly gave a disbelieving snort. ‘You aren’t afraid of anything!’
‘Oh, but you’re wrong there, Molly,’ he answered softly, causing her to give him a sharp look. ‘I’m very much afraid you aren’t going to forgive me once Sam has made his explanations,’ he told her grimly.
She gave an exasperated shake of her head. ‘I’m sure any lack of forgiveness on my part isn’t going to keep you awake at night!’
His expression became even grimmer. ‘You’d be surprised!’
‘Yes—I would,’ she dismissed scornfully.
Gideon drew in a controlling breath. ‘I’ve really messed things up between us, haven’t I?’
‘There’s never been any “us” to mess up,’ Molly assured him.
His hands were painful on her arms as he pulled her to a stop before they entered the house. He turned her to face him, his expression harshly remote. ‘Will you at least agree to talk to me in private after the policeman has said his bit and gone?’
‘What would be the point?’ She sighed.
‘Will you?’ He shook her slightly.
‘If that’s what you want—yes!’ she agreed, impatient to be inside.
‘It is what I want.’ He nodded grimly.
‘Fine,’ Molly dismissed. ‘Now can we go inside?’
He gave an impatient snort before releasing her, following behind as she hurried into the house.
No one was asleep when Molly entered the sitting-room a few seconds later. Crys and Sam were sitting on the edge of the sofa now, and David and Diana were all attention, too, as they sat forward in their chairs. The policeman held all their attention as he stood in front of the fireplace, nodding acknowledgement of Molly and Gideon’s arrival in the room even as he continued with what he had been saying.
‘Unfortunately Miss Gibson was involved in an accident about two miles from here just over an hour ago,’ he informed them briskly. ‘She’s dead, I’m afraid,’ he added evenly.
Miss Gibson? Rachel Gibson? Sam’s ex-fiancée of twelve years ago? The woman who had told all those lies about Sam to the newspapers after he’d broken their engagement because he had realised she was emotionally unstable? The woman who had made all of their lives such a misery twelve years ago—so much so for Sam that he had moved to the wilds of Yorkshire in order to escape her vitriol?
‘Oh, no…’ Crys had gasped at the policeman’s news. ‘I hated what she was doing to us, but… How awful!’ She turned her face into Sam’s chest.
Sam’s arm closed protectively about his wife. ‘How did it happen?’ he asked the policeman quietly, his face ashen.
‘Her car went off the mountain road and down into a deep ravine,’ the other man informed him. ‘She was already dead when the rescue services arrived,’ he added apologetically. ‘I’m sorry to bring you such bad news over Christmas, sir,’ he added regretfully. ‘Although, in view of the charges against her, if we had caught up with her…!’ He trailed off pointedly.
‘Yes,’ Sam acknowledged heavily.
‘What charges?’ Molly turned to Gideon with wide, bewildered eyes. ‘Is that Rachel Gibson they’re talking about?’ she demanded disbelievingly.
‘It is,’ Gideon answered hardly. ‘Come on,’ he encouraged, his arm about her shoulders as he guided her out of the room. ‘You don’t need to hear any more of that,’ he told her briskly, and he took her into the library, sitting her down in one of the armchairs before moving to pour her some whisky from the decanter on the table. ‘Please drink some of it,’ he said, as he came down on his haunches beside her to give her the glass.
Molly didn’t need any prompting, totally numb from the shocking news she had just heard.
But though her emotions felt numb, her brain seemed able to coolly and calmly dissect the events of the last few days, to pick out all the incidents that at the time hadn’t seemed to make any sense.
She looked at Gideon with clouded brown eyes. ‘She’s been stalking Sam, hasn’t she?’ she guessed heavily. ‘She was the one making those telephone calls on Christmas Eve. And that night,’ she continued determinedly, ‘the noises outside that so disturbed Merlin… Even his getting shut in the shed in that way,’ she recalled dazedly. ‘It was all her, wasn’t it?’
‘We believe so,’ Gideon said grimly. ‘Although we’ll never really know now, I’m afraid,’ he added heavily.
Molly gave a shiver at the reason why they would never know.
Twelve years ago Rachel had been a blight on all their lives, her lies encouraging the press to hound Sam, and the whole family, until their parents had been forced to move out of their home. Molly had had to begin anew in another school, and Sam had isolated himself in the wilds of Yorkshire.
But, even so, Molly knew that none of them would have wished the other woman dead…
‘It was her,’ Molly said with certainty. ‘But how did she…? The newspaper article about Peter’s christening!’ she realised with a groan.
‘Sam seems to think so,’ Gideon confirmed gently.
‘But—it—I—it’s been twelve years!’ she gasped. ‘Twelve years, for goodness’ sake!’
‘Yes,’ Gideon acknowledged heavily. ‘But something happened over the weekend—something that seems to have sent her completely over the edge.’ He frowned grimly. ‘The police have been looking for her ever since.’
Those charges the policeman had mentioned…
‘What?’ Molly breathed intently. ‘What happened over the weekend?’
‘Molly, she’s dead.’
‘What happened?’ she demanded through gritted teeth.
Gideon drew in a deeply controlling breath. ‘She killed someone. The man she was living with,’ he continued firmly at Molly’s shocked gasp. ‘She discovered him with another woman and—she killed him.’ He frowned darkly.
Molly swallowed hard. ‘How?’
‘Molly, you don’t need to know—’
‘Tell me,’ she demanded harshly.
‘She
