The realization brought with the bitter taste of fear. My frantic gaze darted around the foyer. It was empty. There was no one to help. How I wished Aunt Helen was still alive, or that Violet had responded to my letters. The thought of giving birth completely and utterly alone terrified me.
“A deal is a deal.”
Mr. Wrolf’s strained voice caught my attention, made me forget my pain for a moment.
“Calm down. For God’s sake, the woman is still with child.”
I froze. Me? They were discussing me?
“Doesn’t matter,” he said quite calmly. “And you owe me.”
“You will have her as soon as the babe is delivered, and not a moment earlier.”
Bile rose in my throat. I pressed my hand to my mouth. No. They couldn’t be discussing me. Surely, they weren’t. They weren’t truly that heinous. Where they? I squeezed my eyes shut.
In the slums I’d seen and heard things that could make even God himself cry. Adults stealing food from starving children. Parents who whored their daughters out for a few coins. If the last few years had taught me anything, it was that monsters did not live underneath our beds, they walked among us. In the ton they were merely better at hiding their truth under a façade of wealth and beauty.
“I still haven’t a clue what you would want with a baby,” the man growled.
A cold chill raced down my spine. The fear I’d been trying to control turned to anger. A cold, calm rage that crystalized through my veins. This wasn’t about me. She wanted my child. I’d be tossed to the wolves, while she raised my baby.
I’d die and take the dowager with me before I let that happen.
“Of course you don’t understand, and you never will. Tis none of your business.”
“Secrets have a way of getting out,” Mr. Wrolf warned.
“If I were you, I’d heed your own warning.”
I didn’t wait to hear his response, but raced toward the kitchens. Escape. I had to escape. I’d seen horrific things in the slums. Poverty brought out the worst in humanity. But these people were not poor; what was their excuse?
“And where the bloody hell do you think you’re going?”
Mrs. Bryne stepped from her office, blocking my path, her eyes narrowed into slits of suspicion.
“Mrs. Bryne.” I shook my head. “They’re utterly mad. Insane.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “What are ye getting on about?”
I stumbled toward her, grasping onto her arms. “Please. You must help me. The dowager…she’s going to take my baby from me.”
She jerked away, leaving me stumbling to regain my balance. “Of course she is, you daft fool. What did ye think would happen?”
I shook my head. “But you don’t…no…you can’t…”
A crippling pain had me curling over in anguish.
“Mrs. Miller!” she cried out, starting toward me. “Get the dowager. Hurry now! It’s time.”
Vaguely I was aware of Cook racing from the kitchen, heading down the hall and toward the dowager and Mr. Wrolf.
No. No!
Fear tasted bitter on my tongue. My gaze skittered to the door behind me. Could I make it? The pain was fading. How much time did I have before the next cramping? Before the dowager and Mr. Wrolf arrived?
Thunder rumbled, shaking the glass in the windows. She wanted my baby, Mr. Wrolf wanted me. Panic set in strong and suffocating. Dear God. I couldn’t give birth here, with the vultures hovering nearby.
Mrs. Bryne stomped toward me, a look of determination upon her wrinkled face.
“No,” I screamed, pressing my hand to my belly. “Don’t you dare come near me! I’m leaving, and you can’t stop me.”
The heavy sound of footsteps coming down the hall startled me. Multiple steps, too loud to be maids or the dowager. Only men could walk like that. Mr. Wrolf was coming and he was bringing reinforcements.
“You can’t leave, you bloody fool,” Mrs. Bryne muttered.
I turned to flee.
Her rough hands grasped my arm, jerking me back. Desperate, I reached out. My fingers brushed cool metal. I didn’t think, I merely wrapped my hand around the object and swung it forward. “Leave me alone!”
The candlestick slammed against her head, then bounced off, trembling in my hand. Stunned, I stood there frozen, partly horrified by what I’d done, and partly relieved. She stumbled to the side; her eyes wide with shock. Blood trailed down the side of her face.
With a trembling hand, she lifted her fingers to her head. “Dear God,” she muttered, before falling to her knees. “You bitch.”