The Cursed Heir

Heather Atkinson

Description

'I have read ALL Heather Atkinson's books. They are all fantastic.'

Edinburgh 1896. At Alardyce House, the family are gathered to celebrate the engagement of the heir to the estate, Robert, to his childhood sweetheart. But what should be a precious memory for his mother Amy, is marred by darkness. For Robert’s biological father was a demon and a criminal, and now Robert is coming-of-age, disturbing reports are beginning to emerge about his behaviour.

Amy is torn between her love and loyalty to her son, her hope that she can save his soul, and her growing sense of dread that the streets of Edinburgh aren’t safe when Robert is in town. Meanwhile the increasing distance between Robert and his stepfather Henry threatens the peace of her loving marriage.

The Alardyce family is riven by secrets and scandal, but will this most cursed heir of all, be the one to ruin their reputation forever, or can the power of a mother’s love save them all?

If you love Emily Organ, Kate Saunders and Ann Granger, you’ll love The Cursed Heir. Discover bestselling author Heather Atkinson and you'll never look back...

Please note this book was previously published as Corruption of the Son.

What readers are saying about Heather Atkinson:

‘What a story. This book I think is the best yet from Heather Atkinson and I have read all hers so far.’

'Another brilliant book from Heather...she really is one the best in the business. '

'I have read ALL Heather Atkinson's books. They are all fantastic.'

'I stumbled upon Heather's books and I'm so glad I did, characters excellent and storylines are great, I find myself searching the book stores for more of them to read the minute I finish one.'

Sujets

• Classiques
• Tous les classiques
• Policier & Thriller
• Policier
• Vie de famille
• Parentalité et Éducation des Enfants
• Relations familiales
• Dark romance
• Historical Fiction
• 19th Century
• World Literature
• Modern
• Thrillers
• Historical
• HISTORY
• Motherhood
• Edimburgo
• Escocia
• Historical romance
• Dark romanticism
• Modern history
• General officer
• Parenting
• Edinburgh
• General
• Family Life
• Romance
• Scottish
• Scotland
• Obermodern-Zutzendorf
• Thriller
• Fiction
• Édimbourg

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 25 octobre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781804157961
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE CURSED HEIR


HEATHER ATKINSON
CONTENTS




Chapter 1



Chapter 2



Chapter 3



Chapter 4



Chapter 5



Chapter 6



Chapter 7



Chapter 8



Chapter 9



Chapter 10



Chapter 11



Chapter 12



Chapter 13



Chapter 14



Chapter 15



Chapter 16



Chapter 17



Chapter 18



Chapter 19



Chapter 20



Chapter 21



Chapter 22



Chapter 23



Chapter 24



Chapter 25



Chapter 26



Chapter 27



Chapter 28



Chapter 29



Chapter 30



Chapter 31



Chapter 32



Chapter 33




More from Heather Atkinson



About the Author



About Boldwood Books
1
ALARDYCE HOUSE, JUST OUTSIDE EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND



Boxing Day, December 1896
Pain. It was all she knew.
Amy’s hands were agony, the fingers broken, all the nails ripped from them, dripping blood onto the hard table she was tethered to. Her feet throbbed from the vicious bite of the red-hot poker.
‘Amy, where’s Robert?’ said Matthew’s cold, hard voice.
‘Go to hell,’ she retorted weakly.
More pain, the stench of blood filling her nostrils, but the blood was all hers.
Edward, her own cousin, grinned maniacally as he applied the poker to the soles of her feet again. As she screamed, she wasn’t sure what hurt most – the physical pain or the pain of his betrayal. She’d run to him for help, thinking him her friend, one of the few she had in the world, when in fact he was a twisted psychopath, as twisted as Matthew, the father of her son. Well, she was damned if she was going to sell out her own child to this pair, even if it cost her her life.
The sound of the door opening caused Amy to jump awake. She’d dozed off in the armchair before the window in her bedroom. It had been snowing heavily for a couple of days, coating the land in a thick white blanket. Although it was only ten o’clock in the morning, the sky was almost black, blocking out what little light there was, but that was fine by Amy. The turbulence outside seemed to reflect her pain within.
‘Are you all right?’ said her husband Henry, concern etched on his handsome face. His hair was still so dark it was almost black but starting to speckle with grey, his eyes equally dark. In contrast, his skin was pale, almost as white as the snow outside, and his body tall and slender. Just the sight of him still made Amy’s heart beat harder.
‘Bad dreams,’ she murmured. Even though nine years had elapsed since she’d been tortured and almost killed, the horror had never diminished and the dreams, although less frequent, still haunted her. She ran a hand down her face, as though she could wipe the nightmare away. If only it was that easy. The past was always present.
The snow started to fall again, tiny exquisite flakes landing on the glass before melting into water. The fire was roaring in the grate. Amy had been unable to get the cold out of her bones ever since she’d had her eyes opened to the horrifying truth about Robert, her eldest son, just the previous evening, ruining what had been up until then a wonderful Christmas day.
She held out one of her damaged hands to Henry and he took it. He was one of the very few people not repulsed by her hands. The fingers were twisted and bent after being badly broken by Edward, Henry’s younger brother; the flesh where her nails once were was red and angry, even after all these years. When she was out in public, she always wore gloves. At least she didn’t have to worry any more about Edward, who had been hanged for his sick crimes.
‘Why don’t you come downstairs?’ said Henry. ‘Everyone’s asking after you.’
‘I can’t face them. What will I say?’
‘I told them you have a headache, but if you don’t come down, they’ll only insist on coming up here to see you.’
‘How can I look those good people in the eye? I’ve spawned a devil.’ The memory of Robert’s disturbing leer at one of the servant girls, eyes rolling back in his head and mouth stretching into a grotesque grimace, made her shudder. It had been the same look his insane, murdering biological father Matthew had pulled, and God knew she’d seen it often enough to know what it meant. She’d thought Robert was all goodness, that he’d inherited nothing from Matthew Crowle, but she’d discovered she was wrong only the previous evening, just when his engagement to a sweet, beautiful girl had been announced, and she couldn’t bear it.
‘This is not your fault,’ said Henry. ‘I will not have you blaming yourself.’
‘I can’t believe I never saw it before, I should have done,’ she replied, feeling sick at the memory of those bruises on the wrists of Daisy, their pretty maid.
‘You get ahead of yourself. We can’t be sure he’s even guilty. The maid never accused him, all she gave you was a look.’
‘I saw him pull that same nightmarish face Matthew used to pull.’ Amy shivered and it was nothing to do with the snow outside. ‘There’s no denying what I saw.’
‘Talk to the maid first and get the whole story, please. We don’t want to accuse him unjustly.’
‘Very well. I’ll talk to Daisy before approaching Robert.’
‘Thank you. Now, why don’t you come downstairs? The last thing we want is anyone asking awkward questions.’
She nodded. ‘Very well, then.’
‘I’m glad. It’s not the same without you. Christmas is such a happy time in this house now. When I was a boy, it was so dour with Edward and my parents.’
Amy wasn’t surprised. Henry’s younger brother Edward had been hanged for the murder of four servant girls, as well as the imprisonment and torture of Amy herself. His mother Lenora, dead of cancer, had been cold and arrogant and had plotted to bring about Amy’s downfall. His father Alfred had been murdered by Matthew to stop him from freeing Amy and Robert from him.
‘Now, with you and our children, it’s my favourite time of year,’ continued Henry, touching her face.
Amy decided it was time to pull herself together, she didn’t want to spoil this special time for him. ‘Did I ever tell you how fortunate I am to have you as my husband?’
‘You’re not as fortunate as I am to have you as my wife,’ he smiled. Henry’s manner was usually so stiff and formal, it had become a habit with him since childhood after being raised by a vindictive mother to hide his emotions, but with Amy and their children, he allowed his playful side to come out. ‘Now, come down for breakfast before the whole damn house ventures up here.’
Amy took his hand and allowed him to lead her to the door, feeling sick with foreboding, wondering how she was going to look upon her oldest son with love again.



‘Amy, you’re feeling better?’ smiled Mr Buchanan. ‘You rushed off very quickly last night.’ He and his wife Mildred had become firm family friends. He was the family solicitor and had been a staunch supporter of Amy throughout her recovery after her imprisonment and torture at Edward’s hands. The majority of society had ostracised their family in the aftermath, when all Amy’s secrets had tumbled out into the public domain – that she had had an affair with a servant and produced an illegitimate child, and that the father of that child had turned out to be just as insane and evil as Edward Alardyce. But Mr Buchanan and his wife refused to bow to public pressure and had maintained their close friendship with the Alardyces. It was only now, nine years later, that society was starting to open its doors to them again, mainly thanks to Henry’s wealth and influence. Not that he and Amy were concerned with society – they were happy in each other’s company and the company of their family and close friends, but there were their children’s futures to consider, so they were gradually building bridges.
‘I am, thank you, Arthur,’ she replied. ‘I had an awful headache, but it’s gone now. It must have been all the excitement yesterday.’
‘And the surprise of your son getting engaged to Jane probably contributed.’
Amy’s stomach lurched but she managed to force a smile.
‘Sit down, dear, you need to eat something,’ said Henry, sweeping her into a chair at the massive dining table, the footmen furnishing her with tea and toast.
Amy gripped onto her toast so hard it snapped when the door to the dining room opened, but it was only Esther.
‘Morning,’ said Esther sunnily, taking a seat.
Esther was always cheerful these days and Amy thought no one deserved happiness more. She had been married to Matthew, Robert’s real father, when he was masquerading as Matthew Huntington, who had only cared about sweet Esther’s wealth. Amy had inadvertently taken a position as governess to Esther’s niece Jane after she’d fled Alardyce and, despite the difference in their supposed stations, they had become friends. Esther had freed Amy from Huntington House after Matthew had locked her up when he’d discovered he was Robert’s father, only for her to be imprisoned and tortured by Edward instead. Amy loved and respected Esther. After the suffering they’d endured together, a close bond had formed between them.
‘Where are the twins?’ said Arthur. He adored children, but all his were grown up and he was eagerly awaiting grandchildren.
‘Still fast asleep, poor darlings,’ replied Esther. After Matthew had died, she’d found happiness with William, an extremely wealthy man with a gentle temperament. He was just what Esther needed after so many years of Matthew’s bullying. After being unable to have children with Matthew and thinking herself barren, she’d given birth to twin boys, who were now six years old. ‘Nanny will see to them when they wake.’ Esther looked to Amy. ‘Are you all right? You hurried up to bed last night.’
‘I had a dreadful headache, but it’s gone now.’
‘I’m glad about that, but you missed all the celebrations. Who would have thought, all those years ago, when Robert and Jane met as children that they would end up as man and wife?’
Amy swallowed hard at the memory of those two small children