8 The Capells’ end

  Stewart had beaten his father with a thick wooden stick, not once, but twice, only to save a servant. He looked at Robert on the ground. The moment was unreal. Stewart had killed his father. The heaviness of the wooden stick made him realize he was still holding it. Finally, he dropped it on the ground, and the thud against a rock sank deep into his heart. The silence was too loud. He knew Robert was up to something ill, but Stewart shouldn’t have interfered.

  His attention was drawn to Lily’s tiny, shaking figure, but he looked at another spot to give her privacy. After she fixed her dress, Stewart stepped toward her and moved his hand in front of her. That was the least he could do to that poor girl; to lift her from the mud and help her escape.

  “Get up,” he said softly, knowing a loud voice would traumatize her more. Lily hesitated. “You must get up this instant, or we will get caught,” he warned her. She took his hand. He ignored her shaking, lifted her with a heavy pull, and then released her.

  Lily tried to dust off the dirt from her clothes and realized it was impossible to remove the mud. She had to clean herself and bathe. Her life was forever altered. There was no place in Mainwood for her. Robert Capell as the heir of the earl was dead. If they caught her, they could execute her. Stewart stayed there and watched as she walked away. He wanted her to be safe but wasn’t sure if that could be possible after everything Robert had done. At first, she took slow steps, but then her survival instinct rose, and she sped up despite the heavy aching in her body.

  Darkness welded into the heavy air. Stewart paced the gardens, calculating his next move. How could he face his family after killing his father? Was he supposed to confess?

  No.

  He would not confess to killing his own father. He would receive hate from not only his family and friends but also the nobles and the judge. The judge would possibly sentence him to death. Stewart had only helped a woman survive his father’s assault. He didn’t deserve to be executed.

  It wasn’t the right thing to do. He shook his head and decided to return to the mansion to avoid suspicions. Kathrine was having dinner with her daughter and younger son in the dining room. Stewart breathed deeply and took a seat by them. He had to act normal even though it was the hardest thing to do after murdering his father.

  “Where were you, dear?” Kathrine asked before putting the silver fork into her mouth.

  Stewart fixed the handkerchief on his lap and lifted the fork to eat without answering his mother’s question. Kathrine was used to this behavior, so she didn’t push further. Stewart had his dinner, even though he wasn’t hungry. He had to look as normal as he could.

  Wasn’t he supposed to feel guilty for killing his father? The only thing that concerned him was his family’s reaction to finding out what he had done. He didn’t feel powerful but was certainly relieved since there was no aggressive man to hurt him anymore.

  Through all the years that Robert abused him, Stewart thought about fighting back, stopping, and shouting at him, or escaping the house. Wouldn’t killing his father end all his misery? He was ashamed to consider it, but it was an inevitable thought.

  At the back of the gardens of Mainwood, where the crickets broke through the silence of the night, no one but a body was lying on the ground. Robert opened his eyes slowly, the darkness surprising him. He looked straight at what was visible, which was the garden in dim lights reflecting from the house. He lifted his dizzy head and closed his open mouth. The mud beneath him had masked half his face and most of his clothes. His body ached, and his head was about to explode.

  He looked down at himself and noticed his exposed private part. His mouth half opened. It took him only a few seconds to recall what had happened. He had intended to rape Lily, but someone had hit him in the head with a stick. Who was he?

  Stewart. Before getting unconscious, he had seen his eldest son's face. He couldn’t believe it. His own son had attempted to murder him and then he left him to die. Robert got on his feet very slowly and pulled up his trousers. He had to find his son immediately and give him what he deserved.

  Kathrine watched Stewart fill his mouth with the food in front of him and wondered when the last time Stewart ate with such an appetite was.

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  The sound of the dining room's door slamming open startled the Capells. Their heads jerked to the door at the same time. Stewart saw the sight of his father, and his whitened as a chalk. Robert was alive. A thin stream of blood was running down between his eyebrows. He spotted his son and walked toward him. Stewart jumped to his feet and stepped around the dining table to run away quickly.

  “What is going on?” Kathrine asked, watching Robert’s muddy face and clothes in shock. “What happened?!” she asked again when no one answered.

  Robert caught Stewart and grabbed him by his collar. Kathrine rose with worry. Before she could protest, Robert threw a hard punch in Stewart’s face, and Stewart stumbled backward, hitting the wooden closet behind him. Kathrine’s mouth opened in shock. She stepped toward them to stop Robert, but Robert slapped her so hard that she fell on the floor. The younger son ran to her to help her.

  “Don’t get closer!” Robert shouted at Kathrine, who was holding half her face with her hands. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Stewart didn’t back away. He had beaten his father to death, so it was only fair to get beaten by him—At least that’s what Stewart thought. He gathered himself and prepared for another impact. Robert lunged at him again, grabbing and hitting him into the closet behind him. Another punch got thrown at the poor boy, and he took it without complaining. Stewart's face was bruised now, and his lips had torn.

  Robert kept him steady with one hand and clutched the other into a fist. “You,” he said when Stewart almost fell unconscious. “You, small, pathetic of a human being.”

  Stewart’s swollen, bruised eyes were barely looking at his father. He could hear but couldn’t respond. Another punch would take his conscious away.

  “I fed you,” Robert said as he shook Stewart once. “I gave you a house. I gave you your life. And you repay me like this?!”

  Stewart’s eyes followed his father’s movements, but his body couldn’t defend or move.

  “You, idiot!” Robert shouted. “You attempted murdering Lord Mainwood!”

  Louisa, their daughter, started crying. Kathrine wanted to get back on her feet and hold her daughter, but she couldn’t. She was too affected by the punch Robert threw at her face.

  “I’m the earl now!” Robert shouted. “I shall have you imprisoned.” He hit Stewart again into the closet. The glasses shattered, falling on the floor, and the rest stayed dangerously close to Stewart’s back. Robert snaked his hand around Stewart’s neck and pressed his throat hardly. “I shall have you dead!”

  Kathrine’s blood went cold. She was frozen, as were her daughter and younger son. They had seen Robert’s wrath many times before, but this time was different. He had an uncontrolled rage like he never had. It seemed as if he really was going to end Stewart.

  Robert let go of Stewart’s neck. He had other plans to torture his son. “You thought you saved her,” he said, watching his son gasp for air. He grabbed a piece of the broken glass and pointed it at his son. “Who’s going to save you?”

  He pushed the shard into Stewart’s ribs, and it sliced through his flesh, opening a nasty wound. Blood poured down, and Stewart’s legs went numb.

  “No!” Katherine wailed, clutching her skirt while her other hand moved toward Stewart as if she could save him from that distance.

  Robert wasn’t done. He pulled the shard out and watched his son cough blood. Stewart was slowly falling, but Robert didn’t let him. He held him tighter and lunged his hand again, this time at his son’s face, and Stewart closed his eyes. But Robert’s hand didn’t meet Stewart. It was stopped in midair by someone.

  “Leave him,” a weak voice said. Robert clenched his jaw, his head turning to look at the intruder and hit them, if needed. Instead, his heart skipped a beat. The pair of exhausted green eyes, which he had dared to close forever last night, astounded him.

  Robert let a scream out of his mouth and jumped backward, hitting the dining table with his back. His face went white, and his heart started beating fast as if he had seen a ghost. He believed he was seeing a ghost. His cousin, Joseph, was standing only a foot away from him. Robert held onto the dining table and watched Joseph with an open mouth. It was impossible. Joseph had spent the recent month in his bed. He was vomiting blood last night. He was going to die!

  Was he hallucinating?

  “M-my lord,” Kathrine said as tears streamed down her face. She saw Joseph too, which meant he wasn’t a ghost.

  She was relieved that Joseph was alive. She didn’t care about the title or the fortune, not anymore. Kathrine only wanted to escape her husband and live without fear of dying at his hands.

  “You… get out,” Joseph said with the weakest, authoritative voice he mustered.

  Robert stepped backward with shaky legs and didn’t stop until he ensured the door was behind him. He still couldn’t believe what was in front of him. When he reached the door, he bolted with clumsy steps and exited the house.

  Stewart was on the floor, coughing with whatever strength he had left inside of him. His throat and chest were burning. His breath came in short and fast attempts.

  The young valet, who helped Joseph heal, appeared by the door and saw Joseph standing by the broken glasses. “My lord!” he shouted and ran toward him. “My lord! You mustn’t get up. You haven’t regained your strength yet.”

  Joseph covered his mouth and coughed a few times. He was much thinner than he used to be. The flesh on his face had disappeared. He looked too sick and weak.

  “Help the young Mr. Capell,” Joseph said with his low voice, referring to Stewart. He held onto the wall to steady himself. “And Mrs. Capell,” he added.

  The servants came one by one and stood by the door. When they saw Joseph standing on his own feet, they gasped. At first, shock took over them, then joy. Nothing made the Mainwood house servants happier than seeing Joseph alive and well. They didn’t want to mourn another Ford, especially not when the heir would be from the Capell line. Robert had tortured them enough, and they couldn’t have more of that.

  Joseph is back!!!