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Suddenly, glass broke somewhere nearby. Someone roared and she wondered dimly how a lion had found its way into the library. Then the heavy weight crushing down on her was gone and she could breathe, but those first few inhales were agony. So much so that she leaned sideways and was sick on the library floor. She wiped her mouth and tried to bring her blurry vision into focus.
The sounds of two creatures fiercely battling drew her attention. As the shapes formed more clearly, she realized they were Ezra and Arthur. The two men threw fists and slammed each other into the nearest bookshelves, causing dozens of beautiful, gilded books to topple to the ground. Matilda clutched her throat, coughing violently as she tried to speak or call for help. Arthur’s face was a mask of rage as he swung a punch that landed solidly on Ezra’s jaw. The man’s head flew back and he slumped to the ground, landing on the scattered books, and didn’t move again.
Arthur stood there, panting. His shoulders rose and fell for a long moment before he turned to face her. She stared back at him, seeing a stranger with the bloody nose and a split lip.
“Mattie…” He started toward her, but halted as Della and the others burst into the room, having heard the commotion. Della rushed toward her fallen brother.
“Ezra! What did you do to him, Arthur?”
Arthur stared at Della and then looked to his other friends. “Della, you will see your brother home tomorrow morning. The rest of you may stay if you wish.”
“But it’s Christmas tomorrow,” Della whined. Ezra groaned on the ground but didn’t move. Arthur came toward Matilda and before she could protest, he had scooped her up in his arms and was carrying her down the hall. He met Stodgens on the way.
“I know it’s Christmas, but send someone for the doctor.”
Matilda blinked back tears from pain and embarrassment as Stodgens went to send a footman to fetch the doctor. She heard someone else approach.
“Is she all right?” James asked, and though he had always been polite to her, the fact he was one of Ezra’s friends made her flinch in response.
“I don’t honestly know. He was on top of her, his hand around her throat,” Arthur growled. “If she’s not all right, I’ll bloody well kill him. I never want to see the man again.”
Matilda coughed and pressed her face to Arthur’s chest, closing her eyes. When they reached her room, he set her down on the bed. His hands moved gently over her arms and legs as he looked for other injuries. He was careful not to touch her neck.
“Does it hurt anywhere else?” he asked.
She shook her head and winced at the pain caused by the movement.
“Christ…” He sank down on the bed beside her, his hands shaking. “I’m so sorry… I am…” He seemed to choke on his words. “That never should have happened.”
Matilda stared up at him, pain filling more than just her throat.
“You told him,” she said in a raspy whisper. “You told him about us.” She blinked away fresh tears. “He treated me like a…” She swallowed down all of the terrible words she could think of that should never be applied to any woman.
Arthur stared at her in horror. “I didn’t tell him. I only warned him to stay away from you. I told him you were my tenant and under my protection. That was all I ever said.” The truth shone so clearly in his eyes that she couldn’t help but believe him.
Arthur wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and saw blood streaked over his skin and the cuff of his shirt. He stood and crossed the room to the washstand and dampened a cloth in the basin before he cleaned blood from his face and hand. Then he returned to her, sitting on the bed at her side.
Matilda wanted to ask why Ezra thought he had a right to take her, but she knew why. Arthur might not have told Ezra of their arrangement, but he had guessed, and he had guessed correctly. She had traded her body for more time at Meadow Cross cottage. Men like Ezra saw women as objects, things to be owned, played with, and discarded. He was a man, and men ruled women. She wished more than ever that the world worked differently. But she was a pawn in the chess game of life, and she hated that… and hated herself so violently at that moment that something fractured inside her.
“Mattie?” Arthur touched her shoulder, but she flinched away from him.
“Please leave me alone,” she rasped and rolled to face away from him. She felt the bed lift slightly as he stood, and a moment later she heard the door click close as he left. Only then did she dare to cry. Each sob tore at her bruised throat, reminding her of what had happened in the library, how the world saw her, and how she saw herself.
* * *
Arthur pacedthe corridor outside Matilda’s bedchamber until Dr. Danvers arrived. He explained what he witnessed in library, and the doctor’s face paled.
“I will examine her and come back to you.” Dr. Danvers stepped into the room with a sad look at Arthur before he closed the door. Stodgens joined Arthur in his silent vigil outside the bedchamber.
“Should I tell Miss Wells yet? She does not know of the incident.”
“Yes, please tell her at once.” Arthur felt like the worst sort of man. He had completely forgotten about Florence.
Arthur clenched and unclenched his fists as he waited. When Dr. Danvers emerged from the room, he spoke quietly.
“I do not think he was able to… take advantage of her. But he bruised her trachea, and it will take some time to heal. Speaking may be painful for a while. I fear the hardest part may be the emotional pain of such an attack. I have no solutions for that, I’m afraid.”
“Thank you, doctor. It’s late. Stodgens will see your usual room prepared.”
