Chapter 4 - The Closed Circle
""Who?"" Clara demanded, the instinct to survive superseding any domestic protocol. ""If someone tried to murder you using my hands, I deserve to know who put the rope around my neck.""
Julian looked at her with newfound respect. Most servants would have been sobbing on their knees, begging for mercy. Clara stood her ground, dirt-smudged apron and all, demanding accountability.
""Genevieve,"" Julian said softly. ""And my cousin, Richard. Both were at the table. Both stand to inherit the estate if I die without a recognized heir.""
Clara swallowed hard. ""Then call the constables. Have them search their rooms, analyze the bottle, and clear my name.""
""If I call the constables, you hang before sunrise,"" Julian countered flatly. ""In this city, the aristocracy writes the law. If a servant serves poisoned food to a duke, there is no trial. Genevieve will pay the magistrate to bury you before you can even speak Marcus’s name in open court.""
Clara leaned against the cold stone wall, realizing the sheer magnitude of the trap. She wasn't just a scapegoat; she was an existential threat. If she was Marcus's legitimate child, the Vance inheritance belonged entirely to her.
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""Then what do we do?"" she asked, her voice barely a murmur in the damp chill.
Julian picked up a clean rag, carefully wrapping the blackened fork inside it. ""We pretend the poison worked. By tomorrow morning, Julian Vance will be on his deathbed. And you will be the only one who knows the truth.""
