“Of course you don’t,” Isaac said bitterly. “You are the daughter of a viscount.”
Mattie shook her head. “You seem to forget that my father only recently inherited his title. Before that, he was a vicar, and we lived on a limited income.”
Isaac looked unimpressed, his lips curling in a sneer. “That is hardly the same, considering you had a housekeeper to tend to your family.”
“You speak to me as if I have never experienced any struggles,” Mattie said. “But I have. I have endured more than you know.”
“Pardon me for not being impressed, but what do you know about struggles?” Isaac asked, leaning forward. “Do you know what it is like not being able to provide for your family, while your wife’s family is living a life of leisure?”
Mattie crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you expect me to feel bad for you?” she asked. “You made your bed, and now you must lie in it.”
Isaac chuckled dryly, his eyes glinting with malice. “You impertinent chit. I can see why Lord Winston has been so taken with you.”
“He is not taken by me,” she insisted.
Holding out his arm in a mocking gesture, Isaac said, “It was evident to me how he felt about you. That is why I knew abducting you would be the only way to get my family returned to me.”
“You will be sorely mistaken. Winston won’t turn over Lady Sarah to you,” Mattie responded, her voice firm.
He smirked, leaning back. “We shall see.”
“I won’t allow it,” Mattie declared.
The humor drained from Isaac’s face, replaced by a menacing glare. “You won’t allow it?” he repeated. “You hold no power here. You are only alive because you are servinga purpose.”
Mattie knew she should bite her sharp tongue, but when had that ever stopped her before? “Winston will stop you, and you will be sent to Newgate to live out the rest of your pathetic life,” she spat out.
In a swift, brutal motion, Isaac reared his hand back and slapped her across the cheek, the force of the blow knocking her onto the ground. Pain exploded in her cheek, and she tasted blood.
He rose and stood over her. “You will not speak unless you are spoken to. Do you understand?” he demanded, his voice cold and hard.
Mattie brought a trembling hand to her reddened cheek, the sting making her eyes water. She fought back the tears, not wanting to show any sign of weakness.
Isaac’s nostrils flared with anger. “Do you understand?” he repeated.
“I do,” Mattie said, her voice flat and devoid of emotion, masking the fear and anger boiling within her.
Holding his hand out, Isaac said, “Allow me to help you up.”
“That won’t be necessary?—”
Isaac cut her off, his voice sharp. “I insist.”
Reluctantly, Mattie slipped her hand into his, feeling the coarseness of his skin. He pulled her up roughly, yanking her towards him so their faces were inches apart.
“I’m sorry I hit you, but you left me with no choice,” he growled, his hot breath against her face. “It is not favorable for women to speak their minds.”
Mattie clenched her jaw, swallowing her retort. She knew she had to be careful, bide her time and find a way to escape. Isaac might have the upper hand now, but she refused to let him break her spirit.
Isaac released her and took a step back, a cruel smile curling his lips. “I recognize that look,” he jeered. “It is hope. You think that Lord Winston is going to save you. Don’t you?”
“I do,” Mattie replied, her voice steady.
Isaac’s smile grew. “How, pray tell, do you think he is going to do that?” he asked. “He is a barrister, or should I say a sheep farmer?”
Mattie bit her lower lip before saying, “He will find a way.”
“If you believe that, you are a bigger fool than he is,” Isaac declared. “If Lord Winston fails to bring Sarah and my son to me, then you will die. Make no mistake of that.”
