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“Ordering about his butler? You’ve made yourself at home here.”
Karta turned away, moving toward the hallway.
“You’re here for him, aren’t you?” His words came out in a hiss.
She stopped, looking over her shoulder at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I couldn’t even fathom it when I first saw him—he’s so…” His gave an exaggerated shudder. “So large. So uncouth.”
“Whatever you’re thinking, George, you’re wrong.”
George shook his head to himself, his tiny eyes going to pinpricks as he stared at her. “He doesn’t know.” A revelation, he said the words in a whisper.
She pretended not to have heard him. “If you’ll excuse me, I do need to go and tend to Maggie.” She started to stalk away from him.
He grabbed her wrist, stopping her escape. “He doesn’t know, does he? Doesn’t know about you.”
“George—
Abrupt laughter barked from his mouth, cutting her off. “Play the innocent all you want Karta—I know what you are.”
She couldn’t look at him for the bile that chased up her throat. “George, I must tend to Maggie, excuse me.”
She shoved off of him and turned, her steps quick down the hall as she ignored his snicker trailing in the air behind her.
She needed George out of Kirkmere Abbey.
The sooner the better.
{ Chapter 11 }
The rest of Christmas Eve day had passed and she’d managed to avoid both Domnall, and more importantly, George, by stashing herself away in Maggie’s room.
Karta stood from her seat by her maid’s bedside and stretched her arms high above her head, looking out the window into the darkness of the evening. The moon still big and bright and reflecting off the snow made it look like twilight, even though it’d been dark for hours. Her spine cracked in three places with the stretch, indicative of the many hours she’d sat in there today.
Maggie had been in and out of fever the entire day. The stretches of lucid moments stretched longer and longer, though the doctor said she could slip back into full fever at any moment. Karta had tended Maggie’s head with cool wet cloths and set spoonful after spoonful of broth to her lips. There were moments were Maggie had managed to slurp the broth into her mouth, and that had buoyed Karta’s spirits more than anything. At least she wouldn’t lose her only friend. Fate couldn’t be that cruel, could it?
Her gaze remained on the long expanse of snow rolling along the sheep field as she twisted her torso, loosening the muscles along her sides. She needed bed and she needed to eat before she fell into exhaustion herself.
If she could just make it down to the kitchens without encountering anyone, she would count the day a success.
What her stepson hoped to accomplish here in Badenoch—if she’d taken his insinuation this morning exactly as she was sure he intended—was beyond the pale.
Just because George knew her secret didn’t give him carte blanche to her body—something he’d clearly decided in the last six months he had every right to. He’d always made it known that he was entitled to anything and everything—from every scrub brush of the estate to the smallest crumb in the kitchens—and apparently, he had deemed himself entitled to her. Even though he had a wife and several mistresses, now he thought to own her as well.
Her tongue curled at the thought. Of his boney fingers reaching for her. Touching her. His always sour breath in her face.
She shuddered, her look going to the glowing embers in the fireplace.
Thank goodness Domnall had the good sense to extract her from the situation at the dower house. He always had been adept at stepping in at the right moment. Now she just had to figure out how to extract herself even further from George’s slimy clutches.
She could find a cottage on the far coast of the Isle of Skye—too far of a journey for even George. But she would need her thirds to afford that, and by using it, George would be able to follow her if he became determined. Plus, she couldn’t disappear until Maggie was well enough to travel with her.
She could travel back to her father’s home, but George was such a frequent guest there that she would be serving herself up on a fine silver platter to him.
Or she could stay at the dower house and attempt to shut down his advances from there. It would be much easier if the full staff were present.
She wasn’t sure how far George would dare press her—but what she did know was that he’d never heard the word no in his life.
