Whoever wanted to be a Gilbert bride could have at it.
The incident had taken place in a surveillance blind spot—clearly chosen with care.
By the time I arrived, Janet was thrashing in the water, crying for help. Joan was struggling nearby.
"Janet!"
Rhys sprinted to the shore and dove in without a second's hesitation, swimming straight for Janet.
"Don't be scared—I've got you!"
He didn't spare a single glance for the woman he'd just gotten engaged to.
He wrapped his arms around Janet and hauled her to shore, patting her back with exaggerated gentleness.
Meanwhile, Joan was still bobbing in the freezing water, choking, dragging herself toward the edge inch by painful inch.
In the end, she pulled herself out alone—fingers scraping against the rocks, clothes plastered to her body, water streaming down her face.
Janet trembled in Rhys's arms, eyes brimming with tears.
"It's all my fault... I made Miss Henson angry." Her voice hitched. "She didn't mean to push me in."
Rhys's head snapped up. He glared at Joan, fury twisting his features.
"Joan! Have you lost your mind? If you have a problem, take it up with me—what kind of coward shoves Janet into the water?"
Joan, still coughing violently, rolled her eyes.
With Rhys as her audience, Janet's performance shifted into high gear.
Tears spilled down her cheeks like a broken strand of pearls. Her voice quavered.
"I shouldn't have hoped for the impossible. I only wanted to beg Miss Henson not to tear us apart!"
"But I've given up now." She gazed up at Rhys, the picture of tragic resignation. "Mr. Gilbert, I come from nothing. I'm not worthy of you. We should end this."
"All I ask is that Miss Henson shows mercy... and lets me go."
"Don't say that!" Rhys pulled her tighter against his chest. "I will never leave you. Not in this lifetime."
He shot Joan a venomous look. "As long as I'm breathing, no one is going to force you away."
Joan let out a cold, humorless laugh.
"She's the one who appeared out of nowhere, saying she wanted to talk. Led me to the lake, threw herself in, and dragged me down with her."
Her lip curled. "Oh, and let's not forget what she said: 'Mr. Gilbert's heart has always belonged to me. Even if you marry him, you'll be nothing but a widow with a living husband.'"
"Enough!" Rhys cut her off, shielding Janet like she might shatter. "Joan, if you're going to lie, at least make it believable. Janet is the most timid person I know—she would never jump into a lake on her own!"
"And she's too innocent to say something like that."
He looked down at the trembling woman in his arms, his voice softening. "Don't be scared, Janet. No one is going to slander you."
Then he turned back to Joan, disgust written across his face.
"You vicious woman. Don't think you can drive a wedge between us."
I stood a few paces away, watching the scene unfold.
Rhys only ever believed what he wanted to believe.
I stepped forward.
"Joan is blunt, yes. But she's always been straightforward—she wouldn't stoop to underhanded tricks to frame someone."
Rhys whipped around to face me, his gaze ice-cold.
"Ursula, what are you playing at? You've always competed with Joan behind closed doors. Now you're suddenly defending her?" A sneer twisted his lips. "It's because you're jealous of Janet, isn't it? I used to think you had some sense of decency. Turns out you're just like Joan—scheming, spiteful, and impossible to reason with!"
Every word landed like a stone. I felt nothing.
Rhys lifted his chin, voice ringing with self-righteous conviction.
"Let me make one thing clear to both of you. If my family weren't forcing my hand, the only woman I'd ever marry is Janet." His eyes swept over us with contempt. "Even if you get my name, you'll never have my heart!"
With that, he scooped Janet into his arms—she was still sniffling on cue—and strode away without looking back.
But Janet, nestled against his chest, turned her head just enough to catch our eyes.
And smiled.
A faint, knowing curl of the lips.
I watched Rhys disappear around the corner, then turned to Joan.
