Free Storm at Marshbay by Clara Wimberly Page B

emotions he spoke of.  But I was so confused. All the craziness in this house, the rumors, the accusations. The death of Ian’s wife. What was I to believe and how could I fall in love with him so quickly? I hardly knew who he was or what he might have done.
    “Bella,” he said, his voice husky. “Let me talk to you. Please. We’ll unlock the door— you can go any time you wish. Just let me try and explain everything to you.”
    Someone banged on the door. With a sigh, Ian stood up and went to open it. His mother stood there, gazing past him to me. She tried to push her way into the room, but he held her back.
    “Ian, what is going on? I thought I heard voices.”
    “I’m perfectly all right, Mrs. Fitzgerald. Really, everything’s fine.”
    “Mother, will you find James and Edna and the three of you wait for us in the study? As soon as Isabella and I are done talking we’ll join you there. All right?”
    “Well…I — ”
    “I’ll explain everything then.” He turned her around as if she were a child and gently nudged her.
    He was smiling slightly when he came back to me.
    “Sit down, sweetheart.” He pointed to two chairs separated by a round reading table. “Would you like a glass of wine? Tea? Anything?”
    “No, nothing. I just want to know what’s going on.”
    “I intend to tell you everything. I should have told you in the beginning.”
    I sat in one of the chairs and he in the other. He reached across the table and took both my hands in his.
    “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have you go through any of this. I thought I could keep everything quiet and I never dreamed that you would be the target or that Edna— ”
    “Ian.” I leaned toward him. “This is not making any sense to me.”
    “I know.” He released my hands and for a moment covered his face with his own. He took a deep breath and moved back in the chair, making no effort to touch me again.
    “Edna has had some problems in the past.”
    “What kind of problems?”
    “With her mind…with the way she thinks. She’s a very fragile girl and she goes from depression to gleeful mania. She’d been doing well until your arrival here. Then our wedding, I think, put her back in that dark, frightening place where she imagines things.”
    “Ian, what are you saying? That Edna is insane?”
    “I don’t like to use that word, but she is definitely troubled. I never thought she was dangerous, though, none of us did. I’m sure now she was the one in your room last night. And the one who drugged the cocoa. Cook told me today that Edna prepared everything herself. Insisted on it. That’s when I came to find you. I was so afraid for you.”
    “This is hard to believe. I realized her behavior today was odd, but I never dreamed…” I stopped as a dreadful thought struck me. “You don’t think she killed Marguerite, do you?”
    “No, I don’t, but there’s more.”
    “Tell me.”
    “There’s so much. This family, my father… I’ll tell you all that later. Let me start with Marguerite’s death.”
    He seemed so sad and vulnerable. I could see how hard the words were for him. I wanted to go to him, to fall on my knees and hold him and tell him everything would be all right because I was here now to love him and to always be on his side. I lovedIan and I knew he hadn’t murderedhis wife or anyone, knew that he could never do such a thing. So I sat back in my chair and nodded for him to continue.
    “The night Marguerite died the weather was stormy and windy. The sound of the ocean can be disconcerting when it storms out here. It blocks out all other sound so all you hear is the persistent roar. It was like that then. It wasn’t that late—darkness came early because of the storm.”
    He lifted his head and looked at me and I saw such anguish in his eyes that I wished he could be spared from telling this.
    “Go on,” I whispered.
    “Edna and Marguerite were very close— odd because they were complete opposites. But I think