Her brother smiled. It was a cold curving of his lips that sent ice through her heart.
“You’re getting married.”
Expecting such news didn’t make it easier to absorb. Helena felt the announcement hit her as solidly as Edmund’s fist had connected with her face. He watched her face, enjoyment lighting his eyes.
“Your little defiance in front of the king has netted you a change of authority by royal command.”
“Who?”
“Sir Ronchford.”
Helena gagged. She could not hold it back. Philip Ronchford might have been born into a good name, but the man was rotten. He was also old enough to be her father and some to spare. Keir’s face surfaced in her mind, just as she told Raelin it would, and tears stung her eyes.
“Tomorrow night you will be his wife.” Edmund leaned closer, sneering in her ear. “After all, the man really doesn’t have any time to squander. He wants an heir and needs to get to deflowering you quickly. I understand he has quite a bit of stamina in spite of his age.”
“Don’t be horrible, Edmund!”
“Me, dear sister? The king has ordered you wed. I have done nothing save try to better your lot!”
And the details did not matter….
Helena turned and paced across the room. Her simple traveling dress was much easier to walk in, the wool skirts flipping away from her rapid steps. Which was good because her heart was pounding. Sweat popped out on her forehead and she could not keep her thoughts from racing. The image of Ronchford looking into her bed, leering at her with a mouth full of blackened teeth made her gag. She hugged herself, trying to fend off the idea of him reaching in to pull the bedding back and bare her for his possession.
“I don’t know why I’m even bothering to suggest helping you escape….”
Helena froze. Distrust shot through her, but the idea of avoiding marriage to Ronchford was too tantalizing to ignore, even if she suspected that her brother was scheming yet again.
“How?”
Edmund smirked at her, enjoying the fact that she was waiting on his whim. Her temper rose. She was suddenly so horrified she wanted to throw something at his mocking face. He had brought her to this terrible fate. She snarled at him, shaking with the need to exact vengeance. His eyes went wide but he whispered the words she was desperate to hear.
“Run away.”
He leaned in closer. “I cannot be suspected of assisting you, so you cannot be seen leaving.”
She swallowed, trying to gain a hand on her panic.
Edmund’s voice was suddenly so welcome because it offered her a solution that did not include spreading her thighs for Ronchford in less than one day. She wouldn’t be the first young bride that found herself at the mercy of an old man once the church blessing was given. She’d be Ronchford’s for the taking, and he would take. Ronchford was every bit as selfish as her brother.
“I am going out as I normally do. My driver is trustworthy. He will wait for you by the market and take you to Bride Dale.”
Bride Dale…their aunt Celia’s home. The woman was in her elderly years and never had anyone to visit. It would be a quiet place to remain out of the notice of nobles. Hope glittered in front of her like water to the parched. All she needed to do was reach for it.
Hope took hold of her, sweeping aside thoughts of thieves in the night. The market was only three short blocks away. Even if Edmund was serving his own interests in assisting her out of London, what did it matter if it was also what she desired? What matter if it took her beyond Ronchford’s reach?
“I’ll tell the king that you ran away, leaving a note about a convent. You can return next year, properly repentant of your maidenly fears.”
Helena didn’t think. She was still held in the grip of panic. Edmund promised her deliverance and she didn’t care about his motivations.
“I will get my cloak.”
Edmund smiled at her. A tingle went down her neck but she refused to hesitate. All of her options were grim but there was something about taking matters into her own hands that felt good. Remaining in the town home would see her pacing throughout the night, dreading the dawn.
She would take her chances.
The streets were far from quiet. But the level of noise was much less than during the day. Helena noticed every sound more—the dripping of water onto the cobblestone street