anymore—and is not welcomed. You, on the other hand, are Madeline’s granddaughter, and you will do your duty by her by obeying me. You will accompany her to Meadlow, and what you do afterwards I care not. But I will not have you abandon her like her sons did. Only know this: you will have no help from me if you decide to leave Meadlow.”
Langbourne seemed one man with two minds. He had sympathy in one regard, for Madeline—that she would not leave Havendale alone, that her granddaughter would be the greatest comfort for her during this transition. But at the same time, he had no compassion whatsoever on poor Darcy or her father, and showed such ire toward Ethan that it caused Darcy to tremble inwardly.
To punish her disloyalty, he ordered her to stay put. One of his men would keep an eye out if she dared to leave. Darcy did not argue. The mad gaze in his eyes, the harsh tone of his voice, the clenching of his teeth frightened her.
“You may leave your room when it is time to leave,” he said. As he stepped out the door, Darcy caught a glimpse of a man waiting in the hall. His head closely shaved, his eyes small and close-set, he nodded to Langbourne. He closed the door for his master, and Darcy set her ear against it and listened to Langbourne’s footsteps fade away.
In an attempt to brush away the muck that covered the diamond-shaped panes, she nicked her finger on a crack in the glass. It stung and she put it into her mouth to soothe the wound. Her hem would have to do. She picked it up and rubbed a few panes until the muted day shone through—the sky slate, windswept mist crossing the land. She could not see the courtyard below, for the window stood too high. Shifting her gaze to the grassy plains beyond and to the lane that led to the house, she anticipated Ethan would appear mounted on Sanchet, spurring him toward her. For several anxious minutes she kept her hopeful eyes fixed upon the gate, and soon her expectation turned into anxiety.
Her stomach ached from nerves and a lack of food, and she hugged her arms to endure it. But her thirst caused her to crave water and she wished some were in the old white pitcher that sat on the table beside the bed. Running her hands over the sleek curved handle, she looked down into it. It was empty.
The room grew airless, and she tried to unlatch the window. Rust had sealed it tight and it would not budge no matter how much she struggled. Her need for air drove her to keep trying. If only she could feel the relief of the wind against her.
The hoofbeats of a horse came faintly to her, and she hurried back to the window, where she saw men on horseback moving toward each other at a brisk trot. “Ethan,” she breathed out in a hopeful sigh. The other man she realized was Langbourne, along with one of his cronies. “Oh, Lord. Do not let Langbourne forbid him.”
Desperation welled inside as she watched the scene outside in the misty distance. She gripped the edge of the window, as Ethan pushed Sanchet forward and grabbed Langbourne. Langbourne twisted away, moved back, and aimed his pistol. She gasped, and fear struck her cold that he would fire.
“No, Langbourne! Do not do it!” she cried, tears rising in her eyes.
With his life in danger, Ethan relented to whatever Langbourne ordered him to do, turned his horse, and galloped off.
“Come back,” she whispered. Her hopes dashed, her heart sunk in her breast. She slipped to the floor, covering her face with her hands, cried a little, then dashed the tears from her face.
After a wait, she scrambled to her feet, hurried to the door, and opened it. The hallway, silent and empty, stretched before her, and the light from a far window beckoned. Langbourne’s henchman already snored in a chair, leaning back against the wall. She hesitated, afraid she might wake him, pressed her hands behind her on the wall, and slipped away.
If she were to go down the main staircase, she might face Langbourne. She could not allow him to control her like this, to force her to obey his will and be a pawn in his quest to hurt her parents. She had to escape Havendale and make the trek to Fairview no matter the