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“He was not like this in the beginning,” she tried to tell me. “It’s me…I made him angry—”
“Listen to me.” I held her face. “It was never you. Never. Come. I have you. I will fix this. I will help you.”
“You cannot. Forgive me. I must go back,” she muttered, trying to get up.
“You can barely stand, and you wish to return to him? Marcella, you cannot. He is hurting you.”
“What will you have me do?” she cried out. “He is my husband. My family will not speak to me. They are too angry about what I have done. I have no one else! I must go back!”
It was madness. She was trembling in fear.
I had no idea how on earth to save her, but every part of mewished to do so. I wished to lock her away in the house andkeep her safe, but I could not, for that was kidnapping. But what could be done? How could I protect her? He was her husband. He had every right to her and could do as he pleased.
How could you stop a monster?
How could a woman fight against such a monster?
I did not know, but I knew I would no longer dare lecture Evander on why he’d fought that villain.
Evander
They had been gone far too long for a single spill, and watching Fitzwilliam eyeing the house made me wary. Datura had sought to make her way inside, but the men at the doors barred her entrance.
“What in the heavens is going on?” Verity whispered besideme.
“I know not,” I whispered back. “How did you know to help keep Datura away?”
“Odite was staring at me so intently that I felt compelled. And for me to speak to Datura willingly? You must know it isgrave,” she said. “Should I go in? I fear Datura will try to follow—”
“Your Grace,” Fitzwilliam’s voice rang out like the cries of hell before me. “When do you believe I shall have my wife returned to me?”
All eyes were now upon us. Verity placed her hand on my arm. “When I see my wife, you shall see yours.”
“And when will that be?”
“Whenever they please.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “Do you always keep your wife so close?”
“Only upon hostile grounds.”
There was muttering as those with long ears shifted to hear in even greater detail. Before I could reply, the doors opened, and our wives returned, causing us both to rush to them. Once I reached Aphrodite, I could see that the expression in her eyes was darker than I had ever witnessed. I had seen her angry. I had seen her weary or uninterested, but this was different. This was similar to what I felt—unadulterated hate.
“My wife looks ill, Your Grace. I think it best if we retired for the evening,” Fitzwilliam said. He had clearly noticed the expression upon my wife’s face. “Marcella, shall we?”
When the girl took his hand, Aphrodite reached out to stop her.
“I shall check on you to see how you are faring, especially the condition of your legs.” She spoke to Marcella, but she did not avert her gaze from Fitzwilliam, whose jaw was set in annoyance.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” the girl said as Fitzwilliam took her away.
One would have hoped Datura had the good sense to leave with them, but she still thought herself the mistress here and went about the grounds, drinking and giggling.
“How can people be so vile?” Aphrodite whispered under her breath. Her glare was now upon Datura as she drifted from one place to the next.
“What happened?” I asked. She did not get a chance to answer as, once more, a group of women sought her out.
Not wishing to be gathered into their conversation, I tried to leave, but she held me firm, squeezing my hand. I was sure she shook with rage.
It was nearly dawn by the time we had seen the last carriage off, which belonged to none other than Datura. The first thing I did, despite my exhaustion, was unlock and check my office then once more look in on Emeline. Maybe they were greater villains in my mind than in reality. Either way, erring on the side of caution brought me comfort. I expected Aphrodite to be asleep since she, herself, had worked incessantly. Instead, she was staring out the window, hands clenched.
