Chapter 4 - THE SIXTH WIFE
Margaret did not deny it.
That frightened Lydia more than any denial could have.
Cassian stood between Margaret and the door.
Not threatening.
Simply immovable.
“Why was Anna afraid of you?”
Margaret looked toward Helen.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
Helen’s laugh was weak.
“I’ve known exactly what I was doing for twenty-four years.”
“That silence kept Lydia alive.”
Lydia felt the words like ice.
“What does that mean?”
Neither woman answered.
Cassian turned toward Margaret.
“You will not leave until someone explains why my wife came here beaten and convinced Lydia’s mother couldn’t trust me.”
Margaret’s expression sharpened.
“Your wife?”
The words carried something bitter.
“You divorced five women before Anna. Perhaps she finally realized what the others did.”
Cassian looked at Lydia.
He understood immediately what Margaret was trying to do.
Maybe he also understood that it was working.
Because Lydia wanted to know.
Six wives.
Six endings.
Six women who had left him.
Cassian reached into his pocket and placed his keys on the table.
Then his phone.
Then the small handgun holstered beneath his jacket.
He removed that too and placed it beside the keys.
Margaret stared.
Cassian looked only at Lydia.
“You deserve the truth.”
Lydia crossed her arms.
“That would be a refreshing change.”
“The stories about my marriages are mostly true.”
Her stomach sank.
Then he continued.
“But not in the way people tell them.”
His first wife, Caroline, had been twenty-six when her father promised her to a man twice her age to settle gambling debts.
She asked Cassian for protection.
In their world, becoming Mrs. Cassian Vale made touching her expensive.
So Cassian married her.
Nine months later, after her father’s debts were resolved and the threat disappeared, they quietly divorced.
Caroline moved to California.
His second wife, Bianca, had testified against her own brother after discovering he had ordered a killing.
Cassian gave her his name until she could leave the country safely.
The third and fourth marriages had been similar.
Protection.
Temporary alliances.
A shield built from reputation.
“You expect me to believe you married women as a public service?”
Cassian almost smiled.
“No.”
“Good.”
“I expect you to believe I was raised in a world where police protection sometimes lasted seventy-two hours and my last name could last as long as necessary.”
Lydia did not like the logic.
But she understood it.
“What about the fifth?”
“She loved someone her father considered unacceptable.”
Cassian shrugged.
“I became the scandal that allowed her to disappear.”
“And Anna?”
His expression changed.
“Anna was my oldest friend.”
Margaret looked away.
Cassian noticed.
“So you knew her well.”
“Everyone knew Anna.”
“Not like you did.”
Cassian stepped closer.
“Explain.”
Margaret said nothing.
Helen touched Lydia’s wrist.
“She won’t.”
Cassian’s voice softened when he continued.
“Anna’s brother had been stealing from people who eventually noticed. He tried to trade Anna for forgiveness. She came to me.”
“You married her.”
“Yes.”
“Did you love her?”
The question escaped before Lydia could stop it.
Cassian met her eyes.
“I loved her.”
Lydia’s chest tightened unexpectedly.
Then he added, “Like family.”
He looked down at the train ticket.
“We were supposed to annul the marriage after eight months.”
“What happened?”
“The night before we were supposed to file, someone entered the estate using an internal security code.”
Lydia glanced toward Margaret.
Cassian continued.
“Anna disappeared.”
“Barefoot.”
“Yes.”
“You never found her?”
“Only a letter.”
“What did it say?”
“That being married to me had become worse than the danger she married me to escape.”
Pain moved briefly through his eyes.
“I believed her.”
Helen shook her head.
“She didn’t write it.”
Cassian looked at her.
“You can’t know that.”
“I saw Anna two days later.”
Silence.
“She had a broken finger on her right hand,” Helen said. “She could barely hold a cup.”
Cassian’s face went white.
The letter had been handwritten.
Lydia understood before he said it.
“If she couldn’t write…”
“She didn’t.”
Cassian stared at nothing for several seconds.
Then he picked up his phone.
“What are you doing?” Lydia asked.
“Finding out who used that security code.”
Margaret gave a quiet laugh.
“You think six years of records are waiting politely on a server?”
Cassian looked at her.
“No.”
“Then why bother?”
“Because you knew exactly how old the records were.”
Margaret stopped smiling.
Half an hour later, they reached Vale House.
Lydia had expected something gothic.
Instead, Cassian’s estate was a large stone home overlooking the river, warm lights glowing behind tall windows.
A little girl ran across the entrance hall.
“Uncle Cash!”
Cassian barely had time to bend before she wrapped both arms around his waist.
Lydia froze.
Cassian’s entire face changed.
“Grace, what are you still doing up?”
“It’s six-thirty.”
“That late?”
Grace rolled her eyes.
She looked about nine.
Maybe ten.
Then she noticed Lydia’s wedding dress beneath the black coat.
Her eyes widened.
“Are you getting married again?”
Cassian actually looked embarrassed.
“No.”
Grace studied Lydia.
“That’s probably good.”
Lydia covered a smile.
Cassian sighed.
“Grace.”
“What?”
She lowered her voice dramatically.
“Grandma says you’re bad at marriage.”
Margaret entered behind them.
Grace immediately went quiet.
Lydia noticed that too.
Cassian introduced them.
Grace was the daughter of Cassian’s late younger brother and had lived with him for four years.
“Can Lydia stay for dinner?”
Lydia blinked.
Cassian looked at her.
“If Lydia wants.”
Before Lydia could answer, Grace grabbed his sleeve.
“I forgot.”
She ran toward a desk and returned carrying a folded piece of paper.
“A lady gave me this.”
Cassian frowned.
“What lady?”
“The one near the greenhouse.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
Every adult in the room stopped.
Grace unfolded the paper.
It was a child’s drawing.
Three stick figures beside the greenhouse.
Grace had labeled herself.
Another figure was marked EVELYN.
The third had no name.
She wore a blue coat.
Cassian crouched beside Grace.
“What did the other woman look like?”
Grace shrugged.
“Brown hair. She cried a little.”
“Did she say her name?”
“No.”
Grace reached into her pocket.
“But she told me to give you this if Evelyn didn’t come back.”
She opened her hand.
A small gold bracelet lay across her palm.
Cassian picked it up.
Margaret took one step backward.
Lydia saw the engraving.
E.A.
Evelyn Aldridge.
One of the bracelet’s charms was missing.
A tiny gold anchor had been snapped from the chain.
Cassian looked at Grace.
“Where did they go?”
“Through the side gate.”
His head lifted.
“That gate is locked.”
Grace nodded.
“The blue-coat lady knew the number.”
Ten minutes later, Cassian stood inside the security room watching old camera feeds being recovered from backup storage.
At 5:12 that morning, Evelyn appeared beside the greenhouse.
Grace had drawn her perfectly.
Beside Evelyn stood another woman.
Thin.
Dark-haired.
Wearing an old red wool coat Lydia recognized immediately.
Her mother’s.
Cassian stopped breathing.
He touched the screen.
“Anna.”
Lydia stared.
The sixth wife was alive.
And she had been at Vale House that morning.
Then Cassian’s security chief enlarged the final frame.
Anna was entering the side-gate code.
Six digits.
Cassian whispered them aloud.
His expression changed.
“That code belonged to one person.”
Lydia looked at him.
“Who?”
May you like
Cassian turned slowly toward the doorway.
“My uncle Dominic.”
