Unexpected Vows In A Frontier Town Chapter 07

Unexpected Vows In A Frontier Town Chapter 07

Lark was dragged into the garden by two security men, his arms twisted behind his back.

They kicked his knees out from under him. He dropped onto the grass, his face drained of all color, but he still craned his neck and gritted his teeth.

“Sir!”

He looked up at Sebastian, his voice urgent and stubborn.

“I told nothing but the truth! You ordered me to get close to Mrs. Pike. You said marrying Miss Calloway was just a cover. How can you…”

Clang.

An iron box crashed at his feet. The lid flipped open, revealing stacks of cash and a gold brooch inside.

Lark’s voice cut off like it had been sliced by a blade.

I stood on the steps without even glancing at him, my tone as casual as if I were telling the servants to set the table.

“Housekeeper.”

The housekeeper beside me bent down and picked up the bills.

“Fifty thousand dollars in total.”

I let out a dry laugh. Fifty thousand dollars. That was all it took to buy Lark’s betrayal.

The housekeeper picked up the brooch and held it under the light for a closer look.

It was a golden swallowtail butterfly, delicately crafted. Except for one glaring flaw, a missing ruby the size of a pea on the left wing, leaving an empty pit.

“This brooch…” The housekeeper looked up. “I believe I’ve seen Mrs. Pike wearing this one often.”

Lark’s face finally shifted. The muscles around his mouth twitched uncontrollably.

I still wasn’t looking at him. My tone drifted, almost bored.

“There are three keys to the guest room door. One with the housekeeper. One with the maid on guard duty.”

I paused, then let my gaze settle on his face.

“The third was in your hands. You’re Sebastian’s personal bodyguard, in charge of night patrols. The spare key to the guest wing was under your watch.”

“The maid already told me.”

Lark flinched hard.

“She said you came by last night with a food box. Said it was a late-night snack from the kitchen for everyone. She had two cups of hot apple cider and fell asleep. When she woke up, the guest room lock had been opened.”

I held his eyes, my voice flat as glass.

“Should I call her out here to face you?”

Lark looked like every bone in his body had been pulled out. He couldn’t even stay on his knees. He wobbled sideways, and the security man had to grab his collar to keep him from collapsing.

“Mercy, sir!”

His voice cracked, a thin, desperate screech forced out of his throat.

“It was Mrs. Pike! She told me to say all that! She said it herself in the guest room last night!”

“She said Mr. Wolfram was easy to fool! She said once the scene played out in front of everyone… everyone seeing him tangled with a widow in the water, Wren’s reputation would be ruined for good!”

“She promised to make me estate manager once she became Mrs. Wolfram!”

“She said Mr. Wolfram was a clueless aristocrat, a simpleton, easy to manipulate! She called Wren a stupid girl crawling out of a shack! She said once she wrecked her reputation in front of everyone, the Wolframs would have no choice but to make things right.”

The words spilled out faster and faster, like he was trying to empty his whole gut.

“She even said her daughter had already made progress with the Van der Bergs! Once she got her footing here, the two of them would run both estates, Whisper Valley and Van der Berg, and this whole western territory would belong to those two women!”

Sebastian’s face was ashen. One hand rested on the holster at his waist, knuckles white.

He walked to Lark and looked down at the man who’d been his bodyguard for ten years, his gaze cold as winter ice.

Then he drove his boot into Lark’s chest.

Lark flew backward, the back of his skull cracking against the flagstones. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

He lay there, too weak to crawl and beg. He could only push himself up on his elbows and drag himself toward Sebastian’s feet, mumbling incoherent pleas for mercy.

“Drag him out.”

Sebastian’s voice came through clenched teeth.

“Break his legs. Turn him over to the sheriff. Lock him up.”

Four security men stepped forward and hauled Lark out like a dead dog.

The next day, the Santa Fe courthouse opened its doors.

Martha sat beside the defendant’s bench. Her mouth never stopped, and her voice came out shrill and hoarse, like a wildcat with its tail caught.

“Wren set me up! All of it! She ordered that play on purpose, made that actor wear the groom’s suit!”

She struggled to lift her head, bloodshot eyes locked on me.

“She’s the one deceiving all of you! She’s the cruelest one of all!”

Murmurs rippled through the gallery. Some frowned, some shook their heads, and a few still had a trace of doubt lingering in their eyes.

Then—the courthouse doors swung open from the outside.

Two rows of bodyguards filed in. A couple walked in together.

The man was tall and handsome, with chestnut curls, a dark suit, and an air of roguish charm.

The woman wore a pomegranate-red silk gown, her belly gently rounded, a pearl ornament in her hair. Her face was seven parts like mine, though sharper around the brows and eyes.

It was Alistair Van der Berg.

And my sister, Sage Calloway.