Aoife wanted to snap, to ask how many years of practice it had taken him to become so accommodating, but that was too cruel.
“Or he’ll beat the lesson into me, is that right?”
Alton flinched, almost imperceptibly.
“He didn’t mean to—”
“Yes,” she said, facing him directly. “He did. He couldn’t stand that I said no to him.”
Alton opened his mouth, then shut it again.
When she could breathe evenly again, she spoke softer. “It’s all been a performance, Alton. The library. The clothes. The jewels. They’re not for me.”
He frowned. “Of course they are.”
“No,” she said. “They are for the lady he wants me to be. They are for Florence.”
Alton’s steps faltered.
Aoife continued, her voice steadying as the truth settled. “All of it. Even the way he keeps correcting how I speak, how I sit, how I stand.” She touched her cheek and winced. “He isn’t trying to make me a lady. He’s trying to remake the woman he lost.”
Alton’s face sank. “You don’t understand what she meant to him.”
“No,” Aoife said. “I understand exactly. Florence left him, and now he’s determined that I won’t.”
Alton’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You’d have a comfortable life here. Truly. He’d protect you. You’d be safe. Fed. Warm. Provided for.”
Aoife shook her head. “Safe is not the same as free.”
They reached the landing outside her room. Clara’s voice drifted faintly from inside, humming as she laid out fresh linens.
Alton hesitated, his hand on the doorknob.
“Miss Aoife,” he said, “you could learn to be content with your lot here. Many would envy it.” He’d used that word again, content.
Aoife met his eyes, and he looked away first.
“I’m trying,” she said. “Truly I am. But I won’t stand by and be grateful while people are hurt. I won’t be a coward because it’s easier for him.”
Alton closed his eyes for a moment before he straightened and opened the door for her.
“Then,” he murmured, “you must tread carefully.”
He bowed slightly as she went inside. Clara took one look at her and ran over. “Are you all right?”
Clara opened her arms, and Aoife gladly fell into them. When she pulled away, Clara studied her face. “What happened?”
“Alton will tell you.” Aoife said shakily. “I’d like to be alone if that’s all right.”
“Of course,” Clara said.
Aoife grabbed her hand before she could leave. “Thank you.”
Clara smiled faintly and closed the door behind her.
Aoife slid down to the floor, pressing her hand to her bruised cheek. The floor was cold. The air was heavy and still. In the pastfew days she’d seen Cormac and her family again. Now she was further away from them than ever.
In the corridor, Clara’s voice came low and anxious. “What happened?”
