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But that man in the woods? No, he was different.
Even from the few, gruff words, I knew he was a commanding man. Sure of himself. A man used to getting what he wanted.
I wondered how many other men were out there like him—nomadic travelers, corrupting young women like me. The notion of having a gang of such men at my beck and call lit a fire inside me, and made my body twitch with another surge.
It was something that would never happen to me. With Robert gone, I was preordained to lead this mundane life as the Heiress of Wilford. In abandoning me, he’d inadvertently aided in abandoning any hope I had of escaping this place.
My fate was sealed, like the tight seams of one of my mother’s immaculate evening gowns.
Chapter 4
Robin
Footsteps woke me from my dazed reverie, pounding hard on the floorboards outside my room. With my heart jumping, I yanked my pants up from my knees.
A low murmur of voices carried through the door, coming from down the hall near my mother’s room.
I crept to the door and put my ear to it. I made out the muffled sound of Doctor Ashby’s high voice, conversing with my father.
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve tried everything. I’m hoping the leeches will take hold and cure your wife of her ailments. I’ve never seen a case like this. Never seen such a stubborn imbalance.”
“Of her humors?” Father asked.
“Yes. Her blood is tarnished, as if by a malevolent spirit. Her phlegm green and sickly.”
“You know I don’t believe in such ridiculousness as malevolent spirits, doctor.”
A loud sigh. “Well, if the leeches don’t take hold overnight, I suggest you take her out from the pollen of this stuffy, wooded land. Bring her to a crisper, fresher place with salt in the air that might fortify her.”
My father grunted.
I slapped a hand to my mouth. I couldn’t understand what I was hearing. The esteemed doctor has . . . failed? And that’s it? He’s giving up!
I nearly bolted from my room to call this a disgrace. Mama’s fever has broken. Surely that means she’s getting better!
My father’s deep tone gave me pause. His voice, low and rumbling, yet without an ounce of care. Transactional. “I thank you for your time, doctor. Perhaps I will take up your opinion. What chance do you give her if I don’t?”
“Slim, Sir Thomas. Quite slim.”
“Right. Well then.”
A bevy of footsteps receded down the hall—Ashby and his band of useless nuns and apprentices.
I clenched my jaw, enraged Mama was going to die simply because this man said so. I couldn’t accept it.
More boots thudded, growing louder rather than quieter. My hand wrapped around the handle of the door to open it and give my father a piece of my mind—
And it swung inward, nearly smacking me in the face.
My father looked an absolute terror; a complete transformation from the calm, businesslike sound of his voice from moments before.
He stared down at me in disgust, eyes roving over my pants and tunic. His nostrils flared and he inhaled deeply, as if he could smell my sex and sweated sheets.
I stepped forward to meet him, mouth opening—
His backhand slapped my cheek and echoed. My head whipped to the left, white light shooting behind my lids. This wasn’t the stars of pleasure, but the stars of a beating in the making.
“What did I say about changing out of that dreadful attire, girl!” he screamed at me, taking out all his anger from being unable to help his wife.
