“You’re right,” Kitty said.
“Ah, so you come to your senses, at last,” Mrs. Carter said. “Now, summon Tanner and we will choose a gown for you to wear.”
Kitty rose and walked over to the rope. She dutifully pulled it, but when the lady’s maid appeared in the doorway, her brow wrinkled, as if she’d been listening to their conversation from the other side of the door, Kitty spoke before her mother could order the servant about.
“I am leaving,” Kitty said. “Tell my coachman that we depart as soon as possible.”
Tanner glanced at Mrs. Carter, who scowled. “Katherine Carter! You will do no such thing.”
The door creaked open, and Kitty’s father entered. “That will be enough, Agatha. Tanner, do as my daughter wishes.”
Tanner dipped into a curtsey before leaving.
“Father,” Kitty said, dipping her chin.
Mrs. Carter spun around. “This is none of your concern. I assure you that—”
“Do not speak over me,” Mr. Carter said.
Kitty had never heard her father speak to her mother in such a way. It was a refreshing change.
Mrs. Carter’s lips thinned. She did not respond but remained standing as still as a statue.
“Fine, remain there,” Mr. Carter said. He ran a hand through his hair. “Perhaps it is best that you hear what I have to say.” He walked farther into the room and approached Kitty. “My dear, there is not enough time for me to apologize for everything this family has put you through. I can only say that I am terribly sorry it took seeing your mother do such terrible things and hearing you speak the truth to realize how much we’ve hurt you.”
Whatever her mother had said that had changed his mind, she mentally thanked God for it. Without her father, she might not have been able to get away from her mother. She had put on a brave face, but she was still an unwed woman under the age of one-and-twenty.
“You were leaving?” her father asked.
Kitty swallowed. “Yes.”
Mr. Carter nodded. “I understand. It is too late to stop the sale, but you will face no resistance from anyone in this house.”
Mrs. Carter made a strangled sound, then whirled around and stomped out of the room.
“She will be furious with you,” Kitty said.
Mr. Carter grinned. “I like it when she’s angry. It makes things more exciting.”
Kitty grimaced. “Father, I do not need to know such things.”
He chuckled. “Well, think of it as the cost of your freedom.” He took her hands. “I wish you the best, my dear. I apologize that I have been so…” He winced. “It does not matter. I’ve done wrong by you. That ends today.”
Kitty had heard similar promises before. “How do I know you won’t change your mind the moment I leave?”
Her father bowed his head. “You have my solemn vow that I will change, daughter.”
Perhaps it was unwise to accept his words so easily, but Kitty was tired of fighting. She looped her arms over the older man’s head. It was awkward, as they had not embraced since she’d been a young girl, but her father held her and squeezed her tightly before releasing her and stepping away. It might have been her imagination, but as she walked out of the room past him, she thought his eyes were glassy.
Chapter Thirty
Cordon groaned asa beam of sunlight crept between curtains that hadn’t been put back perfectly into place and singed his hand. He wished he could ring for Adams, but he was too weak to shout. Nor was he able to maintain a cohesive thought for more than a few minutes, thanks to the fever.
His hip ached. He turned onto his other side with a wince. Everything was too much. The slight aroma of onions and garlic from the kitchen. The soft gong of church bells in the distance. The heaviness of his own limbs cradled in the bed. Each sensation was heightened and made it impossible to sleep.
Time passed in bursts. He would startle away, sweaty and aching all over, to find a maid adding wood to the fire or leaving a glass of blood on the table beside the bed. Then he would drift away again, and it would feel like he were floating in water, even though he was distantly aware that days were passing. He preferred the floating, as it took away the pain.
Was this how his maker had died? This switching between two different states was jarring. He preferred the void. It was so much easier to drift away and let it all go.
