AllFreeNovel
Share Us
In the overarched cellar, lanterns light the stone walls and ceiling, providing me with a clear path toward Townes’ cell.
“Oh. This is ridiculous,” I groan upon seeing him passed out still. Flinging open the metal gate that keeps him locked inside, I approach him, kicking his legs to wake him.
“Well, this is your doing, old man. Rise and shine.” I grin to myself, pouring the pitcher of cold water in his face.
He gasps and shrieks, sputtering while slapping his face and blinking against the water in his eyes. He stops hollering for a moment before slapping his hands against the rest of his body as the last of the water drips from my pitcher. He gasps again and laughs but aw, that doesn’t suit me.
“I’m ali…” he starts.
“Cock-er-derdle-doo!” My overly exaggerated impression of a crowing rooster silences him. Arms akimbo, I flap my elbows around, sticking my head out and walking around his cell.
He goes silent, rubbing at his eyes, red now as he forces them open. “A-a-adam Molotov,” he mutters, scooting away from me as if there is any room to hide in this tiny cell. “Adam Molotov.” He blinks, speaking louder before rising to his feet.
“Look who’s awake!” I grin. “I have to say, Primrose, you’ve fattened up like a pig getting ready for a roast,” I say, looking him over. “Been eating good, have you?”
“Fat?” he says, smoothing his hand over his belly. “I wouldn’t say I’m fat,” he starts.
“I’d say so.” I wave him off.
“Age might have put a few more pounds on me, but I’d hardly say I’m fat,” he says.
“Well, I beg to differ. That’s beside the point,” I bite out, and he shuts his mouth. Propping my leg up on the stone wall behind me, I smile. “Seems as if you’ve been doing better for yourself. Pray tell, it wouldn’t be my money you’ve been spending, would it?”
He chuckles, shaking his head before stuttering, “N-n-no.”
“Well, that’s great news, Townes. That means you have my three thousand pounds, then?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.
His eyes widen. “Thre-three th-tho-thousand? Wrong person. I only borrowed one thousand pounds.”
I nod. “Yes, you did. But it’s been five years, Townes. Interest,” I say, walking toward him. “As well as that return on my investment you promised me. Or do you forget?”
His sideburns quiver. “Yes. No, I don’t forget.”
“And that’s not even the whole of it. But we’ll get into the money your family still owes me, after you pay me my three thousand pounds.” I move to stand before him, towering over him, as I do most people, at two inches over six feet in height. I look down at his flushed face. “So, where is it?”
He trembles. “Well… um… about that…”
Before he can even think about trying to dupe me with some silly old story, his jaw cracks beneath the blow of my fist.
Crouching before him, I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him toward me so he can smell my breath. “Your time’s up, Townes Primrose. You either have my money, or you pay me back with your life.”
Chapter Five
Olivia
It’smidnight,andIshould be asleep but with nothing to do at all, my body isn’t tired. The single candle in my room casts shadows against the pale-blue paint of my walls. I twist and turn in my single-sized bed, pushing aside the canopy which blocks the air from the windows across the room. My skin itches against the heat, and I rub at it, flipping over on my back and staring at the ceiling. My boredom and the heat aren’t the only reasons for my discomfort.
It's Heath’s last visit. Ever since he left, I’ve been trying to force my contempt for him down into the barrel of my stomach. Putting a cap on it to keep it trapped while imagining what a future with him would be like if I had to marry him. I’ve imagined a trail of insults hurled at each other, whether overtly or cunningly. My word, I’ve imagined the torture of endless chatter, from his end alone, about himself and how much of a catch he is. I’ve imagined shutting my eyes and biting the bullet to engage in the marital act with him. And throughout all my imaginings, I’ve been left disgusted. It’s as if I’m trapped in a barrel with a tiny hole and pushed off into the sea to face either drowning or trying to break out before it’s too late.
Breaking out of that barrel seems like the most logical option. Why would I willingly trap myself in a barrel with a hole and ask to be rolled out to sea unless I despised myself terribly? So, the answer is clear to me. Papa and I will find a way without Lord Pompous. We’ll have to; he’s not an option, and I’m sure if I explain this all to my father, he’ll understand. Surely, he wouldn’t want to roll me toward my demise.
As I exhale from the relief of that decision, I hear a horse’s neigh into the night. My ears twitch to listen more closely.
A neigh again.
“Chance?” I jump upward in bed with a smile on my face. Donning my slippers, I hurry to the window. “Papa?!”
Oh, thank goodness. This is fate. Just as I’ve made my decision, itching to tell Papa of it, he’s arrived. I can’t waste any more time.
