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“Is that so?” he said. He took another step forward, and Edwina tried not to whimper or turn her head away in fear. “Are you afraid of me, little one?”
“Should I be?” she whispered.
“Not unless you refuse to give me what I want.”
She panted, trying to catch her breath, afraid to look him in the eye. “What is it that you want?”
“I want to taste that soft skin of yours,” he growled, stepping closer to her. He placed a hand over her shoulder, trapping her with his body. He leaned his mouth down, close to hers. “Take delight in that which is not mine.”
“Really, sir, this is most inappropriate,” she protested, looking up to him with wide-eyed fear. “I shall I ask you to leave me alone at once.”
“If you struggle, I will just take what I desire,” he said in a warning tone. Through the eye holes in the mask, the corners of his eyes wrinkled with amusement. “Really, that would please me more.”
“Do not hurt me!” she cried, a tear escaping the corner of her eye. “Please!”
“Run, struggle, I dare you,” he taunted her, bending down to try to kiss her. Panic overwhelmed her. Even though she had planned for him to attack her, she regretted that she had now found herself in the situation.
Before his lips touched hers, she twisted her head away with a cry, trying to duck out from underneath his arm. With surprising reflexes, he grasped her around her throat, breaking the cry from her lips. She fought against him, striking his chest with her fists, trying to writhe from his grasp. Her head started to swim as he threw her against the side of the carriage. The horse whinnied, disturbed by the sudden movement.
The Monster jerked the door of the carriage open and threw Edwina inside climbing inside after her. Startled by the noise, the horse started forward quickly, pulling the carriage along with Edwina and the Monster inside.
“Please!” she croaked despite the pressure on her throat, tears streaming down her face. She pushed him and tried to kick him, but he kept his hold down around her throat as he forced his mouth on hers, pushing her back into the seat of the carriage He tasted of whisky and smoke, a putrid taste that made her want to gag. In retaliation, she bit down on his lip, hard enough to taste blood in her own mouth.
“You bitch!” he cried out, slapping her across the cheek with his free hand.
She cried out with pain, and as the world spun around her, the putrid smell of his breath faded. She struggled to keep her wits about her, fighting against the lack of breath, but the struggle made her dizzier. If she passed out, she would be weak and defenseless, unable to stop him from taking advantage of her. Despite her struggle against him, though, he quickly deflected and overpowered her.
He started to fumble with her dress, pulling up the skirt. Instinctively, she kicked, trying to make it harder. Through her struggle, she wondered where her protectors were, if they had seen the attack or if something had gone wrong.
“Help!’ she tried to cry out. “Someone, help!”
Just when she thought she would succumb to the darkness, the carriage jerked to a stop and the hold on her neck suddenly let go. She fell to the floor, suddenly free from the Monster’s attacks. She coughed and sputtered, pushing herself up, trying to see what had happened. Part of her worried that he would be able to take hold of her again, but her head swam as she tried to stand. She heard jostling, grunting, and then an enraged scream.
“We have caught you at last!” Simon called out. Edwina looked up, finding Simon and Bertie forcing the man down on his knees while Father and the butler aimed pistols at him. Simon deftly wrapped the monster’s hands with rope. She climbed from the carriage, holding on to the doorway for balance as her head swam.
“How dare you!” the man shouted.
“How dare we?” Father laughed. “How dare you! How dare you attack my daughter and all the other innocent women you have tortured.”
“Do you know who I am?” the man spat with a laugh. “No one will ever believe you!”
“Everyone will believe the bruises on her skin!” Father cried out with a fierceness she had never known from him. “Do you see what you have done to her?”
Bertie reached over to help Edwina rise to her feet. She held her hand to her throat, wondering if she could even speak.
“Let us unmask this man that has haunted us so,” she croaked, reaching over to the mask on his face. With a jerk, she yanked the mask, breaking the laces, and gasped in horror.
“Lord Somersby!” she cried, reeling away from the man.
“You really think you can get away with this? I will see that your husband hangs before the dawn.”
“Not a fat chance,” Simon said, jerking him to his feet. “You are going straight to the constable.
Edwina stared at the man, unable to comprehend the truth. Albert had painted his face with powder and rouge, creating the impression of scars across his face, easily confused in the darkness. Underneath the mask, his skin remained unpainted. His cold blue eyes pierced into her soul, making her skin crawl.
She could not believe that the man before her had been capable of so much pain and suffering. He had acted like such a doting husband, so kind and charismatic. Had Leticia known what her husband was really like? Is that why she refused to help Edwina because she was trying to protect her own husband? It made more sense now that Albert had incited the mob and tried to divert them to Fergus, trying to shift the blame from himself.
“You will pay for this, you conniving whore,” Albert interjected for which Simon promptly decked him in the face.
