His mother placed a comforting hand on his sleeve. “I know you want Mattie back, but you must think clearly and act decisively. Sacrificing yourself will do no good.”
Aunt Sarah interrupted their conversation, her voice tinged with guilt. “I am sorry that it has come to this. I did not mean for anyone to get hurt.”
“I know. But this is not your fault; it is Isaac’s,” Winston assured her.
“Yes, but he is my husband,” Aunt Sarah said, her eyes filled with sorrow. “It was nice to be free of him, even if it was just for a short time.”
Turning to face his aunt, Winston remarked, “I am not going to hand you over to Isaac.”
“What other option do we have?” Aunt Sarah asked, her eyes widening with concern. “If Isaac even sees another person, he will make good on his promise to kill Miss Bawden.”
“I don’t know what the answer is, but we will figure it out together,” Winston promised.
Jasper approached, his expression solemn. “Grady and I have devised a plan, but it is not without some risks.”
Winston nodded, his resolve solidifying. “What would you have me do?”
The two Bow Street Runners exchanged a pointed look before Jasper asked, “Can you shoot, my lord?”
“I can,” Winston confirmed.
“Good, because this plan could go awry very quickly,” Jasper said.
Winston felt a surge of determination. “I will do whatever it takes to get Mattie back,” he declared.
“All right,” Jasper said. “Here is our plan…”
Mattie sat on a bundle of hay in the Wilsons’ dilapidated barn, the rough texture pressing against her skin as she shifted uncomfortably. She had been here for what felt like hours, and her body ached from the rigid position. She longed for the comfort of her home and the luxury of a long, warm bath. However, her current reality was bleak, with the short, stout man standing nearby ensuring she did not escape.
The light filtered through the cracks in the barn’s walls and roof, casting long, eerie shadows on the ground. Memories of playing in this barn as a child flooded backto her. That was a different time. A time when the barn was filled with laughter and life, not abandoned and grim as it was now.
The door creaked open, bringing with it a flood of light and a gust of fresh air. Isaac stepped into the barn, his presence immediately darkening the mood. He turned his attention to the short man. “Leave us, Thomas.”
Thomas nodded curtly before departing, closing the door behind him and plunging the barn back into semi-darkness.
Isaac approached Mattie slowly, his footsteps echoing on the wooden floor. He sat down on an adjacent bundle of hay, his demeanor calm. “I hope you know that I did not want it to come to this.”
Mattie huffed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “I don’t believe you.”
“This is Lord Winston’s fault, not mine,” Isaac asserted. “He stole my family from me. You must understand that I would do whatever it takes to get them back.”
She reached down and pulled a piece of hay off her black gown. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have abused them, then.”
Isaac visibly stiffened, his façade of calm cracking. “You know not what you speak of.”
“I do,” Mattie retorted. “I understand that you often would beat your wife and son.”
“Only when they deserved it,” Isaac countered, his tone defensive.
Mattie lifted an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. “Does a woman or child ever deserve to be hit?”
Isaac rested his back against a column, his expression hardening. “You live in a gilded cage. You have no idea what others have to do just to survive.”
“That didn’t answer my question,” she said.
He frowned. “I married Lady Sarah, and her father denied me her dowry. He knew I didn’t have the funds to fight him in court, so we had to scrape just to get by. Do you know how humiliating that was?”
“I do not.”
