Interpreting My Cousin Rachel: is Rachel innocent or guilty?

“No one will ever guess the burden of blame I carry on my shoulders; nor will they know that every day, haunted still by doubt, I ask myself a question which I cannot answer. Was Rachel innocent or guilty? Maybe I shall learn that, too, in purgatory.” (Ch.1) 

Readers of My Cousin Rachel would either be Team Philip or Team Rachel. The book is ambiguous, we have to decide for ourselves if Rachel is a femme fatale who poisons Ambrose then Philip, or a victim of the men’s misogyny, doubt, and paranoia. 
I’m Team Rachel. Under Daphne du Maurier’s skilful hands, Philip, the narrator, leads us to think that he’s naïve and inexperienced, and Rachel plays him, but Daphne du Maurier leaves lots of little clues. In the previous blog posts, I have pointed out how Philip is an unreliable narrator; he is also sexist, selfish, and controlling, with violent tendencies. 
Just compare the way Philip and Rachel treat animals. Quite earlier on in the novel, I felt inclined to trust Rachel because the dogs liked her. 
Now look at Philip and his horse Gypsy:

“[Wellington] clucked his tongue at sight of Gypsy in a lather. 
“This won’t do at all, Mr, Philip, sir,” he said, as I dismounted, and I felt as guilty as I used to do when on holiday from Harrow, “You know the mare catches cold when overheated, and here you’ve been and brought her back steaming. She’s in no condition to follow hounds, if that’s what you’ve been doing.” 
“If I’d been following hounds I’d be away on Bodmin moor,” I said. “Don’t be an ass, Wellington. I’ve been over to see Mr. Kendall on business, and then went into town. I’m sorry about Gypsy, but it can’t be helped. I don’t think she’ll come to harm.” 
“I hope not, sir,” said Wellington, and he began running his hands over poor Gypsy’s flanks as though I had put her to a steeplechase.” (Ch.13) 

He is indifferent to his own horse, and doesn’t understand Wellington’s concern. This is worse:  

“I mounted Gypsy and climbed the hill, and to spare myself the further mileage of the high road turned down where the four roads met, and into the avenue. We were more sheltered here, but scarce had gone a hundred yards before Gypsy suddenly hobbled and went lame, and rather than go into the lodge and have the business of removing the stone that had cut into her shoe, and having gossip there, I decided to dismount and lead her gently home. The gale had brought down branches that lay strewn across our path, and the trees that yesterday had been so still tossed now, and swayed, and shivered with the misty rain.” (Ch.23) 

Wouldn’t that be painful for the horse? He doesn’t want gossip, so he doesn’t go into the lodge to get the stone removed, and instead, forces his horse to keep going in the rain, with the stone still there. 
Now look at the scene after Philip’s old dog Don has an accident. 

“I went to the library. Rachel was kneeling there on the floor, with Don’s head pillowed in her lap. She raised her eyes when I came into the room. “They have killed him,” she said, “he is dying. Why did you stay away so long? If you had been here, it would not have happened.” 
Her words sounded like an echo to something long forgotten in my mind. But what it was I could not now remember. Seecombe went from the library, leaving us alone. The tears that filled her eyes ran down her face. “Don was your possession,” she said, “your very own. You grew up together. I can’t bear to see him die.” 
I went and knelt beside her on the floor, and I realised that I was thinking, not of the letter buried deep beneath the granite slab, nor of poor Don so soon to die, stretched out there between us, his body limp and still. I was thinking of one thing only. It was the first time since she had come to my house that her sorrow was not for Ambrose, but for me.” (Ch.18) 

There’s a clear difference between the 2 characters, in the way they react to Don’s suffering. Now look at them after the dog’s dead and buried: 

“I sat beside her and took her hands. “I think he did not suffer”, I said to her. “I think he had no pain.” 
“Fifteen long years,” she said, “the little boy of ten, who opened his birthday pie. I kept remembering the story, as he lay there with his head in my lap.” 
“In three weeks’ time,” I said, “it will be the birthday once again. I shall be twenty-five. Do you know what happens on that day?” (Ch.19) 

He changes the subject. 
If you look at all of these passages, who do you think has more feeling and compassion? Who do you think you can trust? 
Note too that Philip chokes Rachel once, and seems to have no remorse.
Daphne du Maurier leaves lots of little clues throughout the novel. For example, I think it’s likely that Rainaldi is gay. There is nothing obvious, but note this observation: 

“I watched him smoking his cigar, and thought how smooth his hands were for a man. They had a kind of feminine quality that did not fit in with the rest of him, and the great ring, on his little finger, was out of place.” (Ch.25) 

When Philip mentions his suspicions to Rachel: 

““He is in love with you. And has been, now, for years.” 
“What utter nonsense . . .” She paced up and down the little room, from the fireplace to the window, her hands clasped in front of her. “Here is a man who has stood beside me through every trial and trouble. Who has never misjudged me, or tried to see me as other than I am. He knows my faults, my weaknesses, and does not condemn them, but accepts me at my own value. Without his help, through all the years that I have known him — years of which you know nothing — I would have been lost indeed. Rainaldi is my friend. My only friend.”” (ibid.)  

If Rainaldi were straight, Rachel would perfectly understand Philip’s jealousy as there would, indeed, be a possibility of him being in love with her. Her reaction makes me believe Rainaldi is gay, and this reading would be in keeping with Philip’s paranoia and delusion—mistakenly seeing Rachel’s gay friend as her lover. 
But to go back to the question of whether Rachel is innocent or guilty, I think it’s fair to ask if Rachel would gain anything by poisoning Ambrose and Philip. 
In the case of Ambrose, the answer is no. At that point, he hasn’t changed his will, and when he’s dead, the entire estate goes to Philip. Rachel has no motivation to poison him—poisoning someone (so it looks like a long disease) is a long game, not an act of impulse.  
In the case of Philip, again the answer is no. The estate has been transferred to her, she has money, and she’s been staying at the house to nurse Philip. As Rachel has said, she waits for him to get better so she can return to Italy—poisoning him would only prolong the period of nursing him and delay the return. As the estate belongs to her legally, there is no reason for her to do anything to Philip. 
In fact, readers who pay attention can see that the new will gives Rachel everything but she only takes some of the money, lets Philip live in the house whilst she intends to return to her villa in Florence, and by the end, whilst Philip’s searching for proof to incriminate her, he discovers that she has returned all the jewels to the bank for him. She doesn’t take any of them. 
Rachel’s fear of Philip’s violence wouldn’t be a convincing argument either, because she already plans to go away from him. 
In short, with all these reasons and all these clues, I find it hard to see how people would still think Rachel’s guilty and Philip’s to be trusted.