Stay Dead This Time Chapter 11
No matter what Stellan said, it would end the same way. He slumped back inside the coffin, his face the color of ash.
Edmund waved his hand. “Guards, seize this man who dares impersonate General Montclair.”
The officers moved in and dragged Stellan out of the coffin. He thrashed against them, but his body was too weak to break free.
“Elara Renworth!” He craned his head back to stare at me as they hauled him out of the chapel, his voice scraped raw enough to sound barely human. “You’ll rot for this! You’ll rot for this!”
I stood where I was and watched him go without a flicker of expression.
“My lord.” I turned to Edmund and bowed. “Despicable as this man is, he did use my late husband’s name to carry out his fraud. If I may be so bold, I’d ask that you release him into my custody. It would be a way of… putting the matter to rest on my husband’s behalf.”
Edmund considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. He is yours to deal with. Consider it a courtesy to your late husband’s memory. But keep him under close watch. I will not have him out in the world running the same scheme again.”
“Of course. My appreciation, my lord.”
Edmund departed with his men, and the chapel fell quiet once more. I turned and looked at the empty coffin in
silence for a moment.
“Seal it back up.” My voice was steady and even. “Resume the procession. Today is meant to honor my late husband and the Lady of Fidelity. We will not delay it any further.”
The servants hurried forward, sealed the coffin, and carried it out.
The funeral procession wound its way out of the city in a grand, solemn column, heading toward the Montclair family crypt. Townspeople lined the streets on both sides, murmuring amongst themselves.
“General Montclair, gone so young. What a shame.”
“And the Langford girl. Fierce spirit, that one. Offered to die with him, just like that. You don’t see that every day.”
“The general’s wife is the real marvel, though. Letting it all happen, giving her blessing. That kind of grace is rare in this world.”
I sat inside the carriage, listening to the voices outside, my face betraying nothing. Ansel leaned against my side, his small fingers gripping the front of my dress.
“Mother, where’s Father?”
“He’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Where he belongs.”
Ansel gave a small, uncertain nod and did not ask again.
The procession reached the family grounds. The coffin was lowered into the earth, the grave was sealed, and the headstone was set in place.
Two names were carved into the stone.
“General Stellan Montclair. Lady of Fidelity, Daphne Langford. Buried together.”
From that day forward, the whole world knew that Stellan Montclair was dead and Daphne Langford had followed him to the grave. They were ‘buried together’ for eternity.
As for the real Stellan and Daphne, that was another matter entirely.
The dungeon beneath the Montclair estate was damp and bitterly cold.
Stellan was chained to the wall with his limbs spread wide, unable to move an inch. The death-feigning potion had worn off, but his body was far from recovered. His skin was so pale it was nearly translucent.
Daphne was locked in the cell next door, curled up in the corner, shaking uncontrollably.
I stood in front of Stellan and looked down at him.
“Elara.” His voice was scraped raw. “What do you want from me?”
“Nothing much.” My tone was light. “I just want you to get a taste of what Ansel and I went through in our previous life.”
Stellan blinked, thrown. “Previous life? What are you talking about?”
I did not answer. I simply turned to the people beside me and gave my instructions. “Take him down. Sever the tendons in his hands and his feet.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Stellan thrashed against the chains, the iron links clanging wildly. “Elara Renworth! I am General Montclair! You can’t do this to me!”
“General Montclair?” I smiled.
“General Montclair is dead. He’s buried in the family crypt. You’re nothing but a common swindler who tried to impersonate a court official. And the punishment for that is whatever I decide it is.”
