The Duke’s Guests Laughed as the Maid Fell Into the Lake — She Said, “I’ll Remember Every Face”
Chapter 14
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The footmen let go. Clara nearly fell; she caught herself and stood straight, her whole body trembling. Toby looked at her across the hall, and she gave him the smallest nod: Thank you.She thought it was over. For one sweet moment, she truly thought she had been saved.Then Lord Vane began to laugh. It was a soft, sad, gentle laugh—the laugh of a kind old man who is sorry for what he must do. He came slowly down the staircase until he stood beside the Duke."Thomas, my boy," he said, "you have your father's good heart. He always wanted to believe the best of people. It was his greatest quality." He sighed. "And it was what killed him."The Duke frowned. "What do you mean?""I mean that I did not want to say this. I hoped I was wrong. But I cannot stand here and watch you defend her." Lord Vane turned and looked straight at Clara. His eyes were full of false pity. "Tell me, my dear, what was your name before it was Hollis?"Clara felt the floor tilt beneath her feet. "I don't know what you mean, my lord.""I think you do." Lord Vane's voice was still gentle. "I knew a little girl once, many years ago, right here at Ravensworth. A clever little thing with dark hair and serious eyes. She used to ride the old gray mare around the stable yard. Her father was very proud of her. He used to say she never forgot a face."The hall was so quiet that Clara could hear the clock ticking on the wall."Her father," Lord Vane said slowly, "was the head groom, John Doyle."The Dowager Duchess made a sound like she had been struck. She grabbed the stair rail with her thin white hand. "That's where I've seen that face," the old woman whispered. "Dear God, she has his eyes."Lord Vane turned back to the Duke and laid a fatherly hand on his shoulder. "Thomas," he said softly, "do you know who this girl really is? She is the daughter of the man who murdered your father."Every servant in the hall stared at Clara. Somebody whispered, "Doyle." Then someone else. The name ran through the rows like a cold wind.The Duke did not look at Lord Vane. He did not look at his mother. He looked only at Clara. "Is it true?" he said.Clara wanted to explain. She wanted to scream that her father was innocent, that the real murderer was standing right there with his hand on the Duke's shoulder. She wanted to tell him about the letter, the sugar drawer, the man with the scar in the lantern light. But she looked at Lord Vane's smooth, smiling face, and she knew: if she said it now, here, with no proof in her hands, nobody would believe her. They would think she was a liar and a thief trying to save herself. She would lose everything.So she said the only thing she could say:"My name is Clara Doyle," she whispered. "And yes, John Doyle is my father."