Elsewhere in town, Viola’s carriage headed for the Wilkins home to claim it, accompanied by the town guards and a man from court. Time had run out for Agatha, and Viola was more than ready to give her a taste of her own medicine.

Viola held the deed and title, which she intended to pass to Eloise in time, so it might return to her cousin, since they remained close. She had no use for the small home, no larger than her bedchamber, and so she would let Eloise take care of it.

Viola could only hope that Eloise wouldn’t be so careless with the decision she would make, and let the home fall back into Agatha’s hands, as it would save Agatha from ruin.

"She would be wise to stand down this time," Viola said, hoping not to have to raise her hand to Agatha again.

Though Agatha had deserved every bit of the slap she received, Viola wasn’t keen on the ache that lingered afterwards. She even considered bringing a maid to strike Agatha in her stead, though she knew that would be excessive, even for her.

Agatha wasn’t worthy of all the trouble, so Viola would settle for taking away the home.

"I must go see Eloise," Viola said, eager to see how Eloise fared in the Hawthorne estate. She longed to share what she had done, curious about Eloise’s reaction. "I should have told her sooner that I got the deed. Why didn’t her husband know those men had it?" She wondered, irritation flickering in her chest.

Damien had the means, if not more, to look into the debt the Wilkins carried and discover that he could take the home. Viola thought of him as careless, distracted by love.

"Oh, to be young and blinded by marriage," Viola said, assuming Damien’s devotion had dulled his sharpness. "At the very least, they have caught her uncle."

Viola turned her gaze out of the carriage window, watching the rows of small homes pass by.

The bright side of this trip was that she could glimpse where Eloise had grown up. She had always imagined it from Eloise’s stories, but now she saw it with her own eyes. Despite the family she was surrounded by, Eloise had grown up in a beautiful place.

A smile touched Viola’s lips as she pictured Eloise running about here, her laughter filling the area, just as she had done at Viola’s own home. She longed to hear more of Eloise’s fond memories and meet the people who had shaped her childhood.

Viola turned away, but something caught her eye before she could.

"That madwoman," Viola muttered, her eyes widening as she noticed flames flickering in the distance. "She set it on fire. Harry! You must make haste!" she cried, her voice slicing through the air.

From the brief time she had spoken with Agatha, Viola had known the woman was unstable, but she hadn’t thought she capable of this.

"Well played," Viola said, grudgingly impressed by Agatha’s recklessness, though her admiration was laced with contempt.

Viola thought it rash for Agatha to have destroyed all the memories her children held there. Viola’s mind lingered on the cruelty of how desperation could drive a woman to burn her own past.

As the carriage drew closer, Viola saw men with buckets, their faces flushed and damp with sweat, throwing water on the flames, desperate to smother the fire before it spread to neighbouring homes. The scent of smoke seeped into the carriage, bothering her nose.

Agatha had set the place ablaze without a thought for the families nearby.

The carriage halted at a safe distance from the burning house.

Harry came to the side and opened Viola’s door. "Should I see if she is here?"

"That woman is long gone. She must have taken what little valuables she had and fled. We are not going to find her now, and I am not interested in going on a hunt. Life without a home will be burdensome," Viola said, her eyes fixed on the blaze, her lips curling at the thought of Agatha’s misery.

"What a pity. I was interested in seeing her argue about ownership, but she ran away just when it was getting good. I wonder if she has abandoned her children, or if she will reach out to them," Viola mused, her thoughts circling the possibilities, weighing whether Agatha’s desperation would drive her back into the open.

"Start the carriage and return to my home. I will settle this matter in the morning," Viola said, dismissing the scene with a flick of her hand. "Have the carriage ready in the morning to visit the Hawthorne estate. I’ll need to write to inform Eloise of my visit."

Harry closed the door and returned to the front.

Viola stared at the small home, watching the flames lick higher. The crackle of burning wood reached her ears. She wondered if Agatha had trapped herself inside.

"Am I so fortunate that she would be foolish enough to lock herself in?" Viola murmured, her eyes narrowing with cold satisfaction. She looked away as the carriage rolled forward, unwilling to wait for the town guards.

"Now, what can I do about that husband?" Viola thought, still vexed that Clive was imprisoned only for altering the will, not for killing Thomas. "I’ll need to go to court, but I should see what Damien intends to do."

Leaning back against the cushioned seat, Viola sighed, annoyed she hadn’t been treated to a proper spectacle. Still, as long as Agatha lived miserably, Viola could be satisfied.

"With nothing to do, would she try to spoil Eloise’s life?" Viola wondered, suspicious about Agatha’s next move.

It would be a dreadful turn for Eloise if Agatha went after her, though Viola was the one picking a fight with her.

"I will need to find her," Viola decided, changing her mind. It wasn’t wise to let Agatha roam unchecked. "If I were a little rat, where would I run and hide?" She wondered, tapping her finger against her lap.