What a Spinster Wants - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,89

you.” He touched Molly’s hair again, smiling at her.

“Don’t touch her!” Edith spat, coming closer.

He gave her a hard look. “Do you think I have any interest in this child?” he replied, losing his false congeniality. “I could not care less. I only took her to convince you of the gravity of your situation.”

“My situation?” she asked, feeling her body grow cold at the look in his eyes.

He nodded once. “It is very simple. It has always been very simple, but you have chosen to complicate matters. You come with me back to London now, and this child is free to return to her village and parents.”

Realization dawned on Edith, rippling across her frozen skin with some measure of comfort.

Sir Reginald had no idea whose child he had taken, or of her identity at all. If he had, he would not have been so willing to part with her. Had he known who her family was, he would have devised a far more cunning plan.

And that, Edith could not have borne.

“What will you do with me?” she asked, unable to look at Molly, her mind reeling in an attempt to form some sort of plan.

The look in his eyes was so lewd it brought bile rising to Edith’s mouth. “That list is not suitable for a child’s ears, my dear.”

She shuddered and put a hand to her mouth, closing her eyes, forcing herself to breathe.

Every threat, every touch, every image he had painted in her mind suddenly revisited her en masse, causing her to sway almost unsteadily. How could she submit to him? How?

How could she not, with what was at stake?

“Come, come, Lady Edith, we haven’t all day.”

She opened her eyes and looked back at him in disgust. “You swear to me that she will be free? No repercussions?”

He nodded. “None, unless you raise an alarm about this. She is free to go as free as she came. But if you scream, if you alert anyone to what you are about, we will come back for her.”

Molly whimpered, and the sound reverberated in Edith’s soul. She looked at her for a long moment, knowing what she was going to do, but utterly loathe to submit to his will. “May I have time to pack my things and say my farewells?” she asked him, her attention still on Molly.

Sir Reginald snorted in derision. “And have you leave word for Lord Radcliffe to hunt you down? I think not. I’d rather let him stew in wondering where you went, assuming he cares, and your dear, devoted friends thinking the worst. No, your things can be sent for. We leave right this moment or not at all.”

Edith closed her eyes again and took a moment to breathe again.

To have one final moment of peace. To resign herself to her fate.

Then she met his cold, sneering eyes again. “Very well,” she said clearly, without any hint of her natural brogue. “I consent.”

Molly cried out behind her captors’ hands.

“Hush!” Sir Reginald snapped as he turned to her. “I’ve had quite enough of you.”

“Sir Reginald!” Edith said immediately, throwing as much firmness and coldness into her tone as she could, taking two steps forward.

He and his men looked at her in surprise.

“Leave that child alone,” she ground out, her jaw tight. “I have agreed to your terms, now let her go. I willna condone you treating her thus.”

He sneered at her, mocking laughter oozing from him. “You are in no condition to dictate anything.”

Edith folded her arms and firmed her stance. “Perhaps not, but I can and will make your life a living hell from this moment on if you dinnae do as I say.”

His expression darkened, “I own you, you little baggage!”

“Then I have nothing to lose, ye ken?” she replied, his words frightening her more than she could show.

He owned her.

At long last, she had become nothing more than a possession.

He muttered something under his breath and nodded at his men, who released Molly. She ran at Edith and flung her arms around her, quivering against her legs. Edith sank to her level and pulled her close.

“It’s all right, wee one,” she whispered, intentionally keeping her name from being said. The more she could save her, the better.

“Don’t go with them,” she pleaded tearfully. “I’m scared.”

Edith rubbed her back soothingly. “I have to, sweetheart.”

She pulled back and looked at Edith, rubbing the tears from her face. “What do I tell… my papa?” Her eyes widened at the lie, her tone uncertain. “You were…