What a Spinster Wants - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,90

You were supposed to bring me home.”

Edith glanced over at Sir Reginald, who gave her a look of ultimate warning.

“Tell your papa that I was called away urgently, and my cousin and I must return home at once.” Edith smiled as gently as she could. “Teaghlach, lass. Remember?”

Molly blinked once, then nodded. “I remember, Lady Edith. Family.”

Edith could have kissed her for translating so clearly. Hopefully, it would keep Sir Reginald from suspecting any sort of secret word.

Which, of course, she had intended it to be at the moment, but not one that would anger him.

She glanced over at him with some trepidation, most of it for effect.

Sir Reginald nodded and gave a signal to his men, who departed.

“Can you be brave, darling?” she whispered to Molly, taking her hands. “Can you do that?”

She nodded, though her lips trembled.

Edith smiled and kissed her hands. “Go on, then. Run home.”

Molly gave her one last, fierce hug, and then darted off without looking back.

Edith watched her go, tears welling and falling in one smooth motion. Her heart was breaking into a million pieces within her, the shards falling down around her with icy pangs. She couldn’t look after her, and she could not look at Sir Reginald. She could only stay in her place, near the ground, and wish to God that the earth might swallow her whole.

Molly was safe and would be safe. That was the most important thing.

The less important things, however…

Edith gagged and choked on the still rising tears, her fingers clawing at the ground.

“Sentimental, my dear.” Sir Reginald spat in disgust before chuckling with some secret, dark humor. “How very Scottish of you to treat village children as if they were your equals. It’s no wonder you haven’t attained anything in your life. Not even marriage to my cousin could have brought you up. No matter. Your station will change soon enough.”

He seized her arm and hauled her to her feet.

“What do ye mean?” she asked as she started moving with him, still not looking at him.

His hands started wandering over her backside as he chuckled. “You are to be my mistress, Lady Edith. Did you doubt that was my ultimate plan?”

“My, my,” she murmured morosely, “ye must want me dreadfully to fight so hard to get me.”

That earned her a vicious blow across her face, sending her stumbling back to the ground. “Want you?” he all but screamed. “I’ve damn near lost my taste for the sight of you. You’re not worth the trouble.”

He hauled her to her feet again, taking her chin in hand hard, shaking her, his eyes narrowing. “Or perhaps you are. Time will tell just what that spirit of yours, that willfulness, will bring to me. But make no mistake, Lady Edith, you are mine. You belong to me. And no one gets to take what belongs to me.” He kissed her then, harsh and rough, biting down on her lip without mercy. His hand moved to her back, then shoved her towards the carriage, nearly causing her to stumble again.

“So, what are we to do, then?” Edith asked with a murderous glance back at him, wiping at the blood at her mouth, fighting the urge to spit as her tears of despair turned to tears of fury.

His smile curved as he followed her. “The whole world will know that you have become my mistress.” He quirked his brow with insinuation. “Suggestion is a powerful tool. You will be at my beck and call, whenever I decide I want a piece of rough Scottish blood.” He laughed to himself, either at the prospect, or finding amusement in something Edith did not understand. “I am half tempted to move you into my London house, but I hardly think my wife would approve.”

“You have a wife?” she asked, almost stumbling as she tried to enter the carriage.

He forced her inside, his hands yet again where they ought not to be. “My business, not yours.”

“Am I to be a prisoner in my own home?” She sat in the furthest corner of the carriage she could manage, wondering with horror what he meant for her. What she was to do? How she was to act?

What would happen?

“Yes,” he said simply as he followed her into the coach, happily not moving closer to her. “My men will watch you, accompany you, and are full well free to touch you as they please. But the best part of you is for me alone.” He smiled as if that would