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“Papa, please. Do as he says. Please, let me do this for you. You’ve done so much for me, all my life. Let me repay you,” Olivia says.
“You don’t owe me anything.” His voice rumbles with emotion.
“Yes. Well, you owe me, Townes. Now get out of there. I’ll keep your daughter as collateral. If you love your daughter as much as she foolishly loves you, you’ll return here in thirty days or less with my money, won’t you?” I say as he limps toward me. As soon as he’s close enough, I grab him by his torn shirt and throw him to the side.
“You. Go inside,” I say, releasing Olivia. She hurries in, holding eye contact with her father as I lock the cell.
“I’m so sorry, my darling. I’m sorry you got into this. I’ll get you out, I promise.” He hurries toward the metal bars and holds her hands. She’s shaking like a leaf, but she takes a deep breath, tears no longer streaming down her face. It’s as if she’s satisfied with the outcome, and I stand there, as if I’m spellbound. Breaking the effects of whatever spell has been cast, I turn toward Townes.
“Very well. That’s what I love to hear. Go on. Get going,” I say, jingling my keys and whistling behind him as I follow him out of the cellar.
As I close the doors behind me, Townes can’t pull his eyes away from it. “Don’t worry.” I slap him on his whipped back. “If you do well, she’ll be okay. I promise.” I smile.
“Don’t hurt her.” His face reddens, and bulging lines appear across his veins.
“Settle down. You’re going to pop something. The only way you can ensure that she doesn’t get hurt is by making sure you don’t try to outsmart me again. Not only will I kill her, but I’ll also come after you too,” I say, shoving him forward.
Hissing under my breath while watching him walk, I pull him to a stop. “You can’t ride a horse with that leg.”
I knock on Lucian’s door, and he comes out looking between me and Townes.
“Where you taking him?” he asks, putting on his vest.
“I’m setting him free so he can bring me back my money,” I say.
“What?” Lucian looks at me like I’m thinking silly. “But he’ll talk…”
“No, you won’t. Will you?” I grip Townes’ cheeks.
He shakes his head, and I pat his cheeks with my palm. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“And the girl?” Lucian asks.
“She stays.” I smile, and Townes looks as if he’s about to be sick. “In the meantime, I need you to call Dr. Richard over here to fix his leg. I don’t want it slowing down the return of my money. When he’s patched up, give him one of the horses.”
Lucian nods. Dr. Richard is our discreet physician. He’s discreet because he too has a lot of secrets. Secrets that could bring scandal upon his family and his career. I know all these secrets and in exchange for me keeping them, he treats us for free.
“I expect you to return my horse to me in perfect health,” I say to Townes, and Lucian grins.
“Trust me. He once broke three of my fingers because the horse he loaned me injured his leg on our journey. And I’m what he calls a friend, so I can’t imagine what he’d do to you,” Lucian says, sweeping his eyes over the already battered Townes.
“Water under the bridge though, right?” I grin.
“Do I have a choice?” Lucian asks.
“No.” I shake my head.
“There you go.” He shakes his head before showing Townes to the drawing room and setting out for the doctor. As I make my way toward the stairs, leading up to my room, I can’t help pausing and turning to face the door of the cellar.
Chapter Seven
Olivia
Knowingmyfatherisno longer in this hell brings me relief, but I’d be lying if I said it’s enough to ward off regret. Alone in this cell, unable to tell whether it’s night or day, feeling furry squeaking things move over my feet or through my hair as my eyes inevitably close due to fatigue, it’s left me with some thoughts. Thoughts about whether it would’ve been a better fate to marry Heath after all. Guilt over choosing to be too selfish to do what I needed to do to get us out of this financial mess. Even if I had no idea it was this bad.
Blaming myself for being the reason my father and I have been cast into this pit. Feeling as if taking his place was the least I could offer to do to help him when all I’ve done is take from him. Wishing I could close my tear-filled eyes and go back to a couple of days ago, before Papa left. I could tell him he wouldn’t have to go to the inventor’s exhibit because I’d marry Heath. For us. Having logic intervene, telling me that it would’ve been too late anyway since there’s no way to know how long our engagement would’ve been. And at least, instead of a lifetime of misery with Heath, here, my fate would be decided in thirty days.
Oh, how I complained of boredom in that big house I know now is being rented with stolen money. Still, I think about how much I would trade for that boredom, rather than this dismal nothingness. How selfish and spoiled I’ve been.
