Chapter 47: The Real Culprit

Ryker fell to his knees, his entire body trembling. "This Montlins Manor," he began, "when Michelle married, she asked Mrs. Langley for it, claiming the Velmont family had fallen on hard times and needed the estate to sustain them. But Isolde later demanded it back. In desperation, Michelle came to me, and together we conspired with the manor's staff to frame Isolde for assault. The plan was to have her locked away for a few years."

He paused, then continued, "Eleanor had no idea. She wasn't in on the plot. Unaware, she was pushed into the water by Michelle. But in her shock and panic, she thought it was Isolde who had done it. Randy tried to save her, but in the chaos, he startled Isolde's dog, delaying the rescue. It nearly cost them both their lives."

Geoffrey let out a low, bitter laugh. "Brilliant," he said coldly. "A truly magnificent scheme." His gaze snapped to Milton. His voice, sharp as a blade, cut through the silence, "You knew nothing of this?"

Milton scoffed. "If I had, do you think Eleanor would have lost her child?"

"I didn't know either," Matilda added, her voice laced with forced indignation.

Oliver glanced at Isolde, his expression unreadable, before speaking. "Since there's no longer a need to take this case to the Southern Watch, let's have all witnesses give their testimony again."

Under the weight of Ryker's confession, every witness changed their story. The noble ladies claimed they hadn't seen or heard much—only a scream, likely the moment Eleanor was pushed into the water by Michelle. The maids and servants split their statements: Eleanor's people claimed they saw Michelle push her, while Michelle's conveniently "didn't see anything." It was now unanimously agreed that Isolde had jumped in to save Eleanor but, being unable to swim, had accidentally dragged Michelle under in her panic.

The swiftness of these changes was no coincidence. The mere mention of the Southern Watch was enough to make them fall in line. With Ryker's confession, the case was sealed. Milton and Matilda may have appeared uninvolved, but Geoffrey saw the truth clearly. Milton had meddled in his family's affairs repeatedly, never hesitating to resort to underhanded means.

Turning, Geoffrey fixed Michelle with an icy stare. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Michelle lifted her head slowly, her scarred face twisted into something ugly and bitter. A chilling smile tugged at her lips. "Of course, I have something to say," she sneered. "I called Prunella's mother just as Isolde did. So why was her dowry left only to her? I am also a daughter of the Duke's estate. What right did she have to claim this manor for herself?"

Samiyah, realizing her family had escaped blame, seized the chance to prove their innocence. "You ungrateful wretch!" she spat. "Milton and Eleanor treated you like family, and this is how you repay them? You used them! You caused Eleanor to lose her child!"

Michelle's lip twitched, her battered face taut with suppressed rage. Her fists clenched at her sides. Isolde watched her carefully, but she knew—Michelle wouldn't lash out now. Michelle was far more calculating than even Milton. She understood that if she bore the full brunt of the blame, Milton would owe her. She would hold leverage over him forever.

Isolde lowered her gaze, smiling faintly. Trying to manipulate Milton to rise again! How unfortunate. Milton would soon be unable to protect even himself.

William, seeing the murderous gleam in Michelle's eyes, remembered how his child had been lost because of her. He surged forward in a blind rage, ready to strike her down. But Margaret caught him by the sleeve. "Let's go," she said simply.

She understood the tangled web of schemes that had led them here. Milton and Eleanor had used her. This had all been orchestrated from the start—once the child was lost, they feared Margaret wouldn't acknowledge Eleanor. So they had arranged for her to be summoned here, leaving her no choice. Now, whether she wanted to or not, she had to accept Eleanor into the family.

Margaret and William left without another word. The other noble families followed, slipping away one by one. Matilda reached out to tug on Geoffrey's sleeve, but he shook her off with a scornful glare. "You know exactly what you've done," he said coldly. "We'll settle this when we get home."

She staggered back, her eyes darting desperately to Milton, silently pleading for his support. But Milton did nothing. Instead, he turned to Isolde, his face slipping back into the familiar mask of sincerity. "Isolde," he said, his voice heavy with remorse, "I wronged you. Surely, you don't hold it against me?"

He acted as if nothing had happened, as if every word Ryker had spoken was the undeniable truth. His gaze was laced with remorse, thick with guilt—so much so that anyone who saw him would have believed he was truly repentant.

Isolde curtsied formally, her voice distant and indifferent. "You overstate the matter."

Samiyah bristled with anger. "What kind of attitude is that? Disrespect toward me is defiance against your own blood. That is unfilial."

Isolde didn't lift her gaze. "You should leave. Take your daughter with you and ensure she receives proper care. A miscarriage left untreated may cost her the ability to bear children in the future."

"You dare curse Eleanor?!" Samiyah shrieked, her fury igniting. "I'll rip that mouth of yours apart!"

With that, she lunged, hands poised to strike. But before she could close the distance, Isolde's head snapped up. "Try touching me," she said, her voice like a deathly chill.

Samiyah froze. This wretched girl—this girl who moments ago had been feigning weakness—had transformed into something cold, untouchable, and unshakable. But Samiyah was not one to cower easily. Stamping down her hesitation, she scoffed. "And what of it? Can I not discipline you?"

From the shadows, a steady, low, lethal voice broke the tension. "If I am here," Doug finally spoke, his words gliding through the silence like the edge of a knife, "who dares lay a hand on her?"

Samiyah's teeth clenched. She loathed Doug, but she wasn't fool enough to openly defy him. Still, she couldn't help herself. "Doug," she snapped, "you meddle in everything—will you now interfere in a matter between parent and child? Or do you claim dominion over family affairs too?"

Doug's expression remained unreadable, his voice devoid of emotion. "The business of the Blackwell family? That is yours to handle," he said coolly. "But if you wish to strike her, then yes. That, I will interfere with."

Samiyah reeled back, stunned. Her voice rose to a near-hysterical pitch. "Why—why would this little wretch—"

The moment the words left her lips, Doug's face darkened like a storm rolling in. Something flashed through the air—swift, precise—followed by two crisp, resounding slaps. A stunned silence fell over the room. Samiyah's face burned, her lips swollen almost instantly. Casually, as if nothing had happened, he was slipping a boot back onto his foot, his fingers working the leather with unhurried precision. "A small punishment," he murmured, his voice detached, "so you might learn that words have consequences."

The weight of his words crushed the room. Then, the shock wore off, and Samiyah erupted into loud, wretched wails of humiliation and fury.

Milton watched, his mind spinning. Since when had Isolde gained Doug's favor? Since when had she, of all people, secured his protection? But this was not the time to linger. He had already lost all face. Silently, he turned to leave.

But before he could escape, Oliver's voice—calm, deliberate—cut through the air. "Milton," he said, his tone deceptively mild, "now that the truth is out… your daughter was harmed by Michelle."

Milton didn't let him finish. "This is a family matter," he said stiffly. "No need to trouble the courts. We will handle it within our own walls."

Oliver's lips pressed into a thin line. "Oh?" he said, tilting his head slightly. "Had Isolde said the same earlier, we would have saved everyone a great deal of trouble."

A sickly pallor overtook Geoffrey's face.