Chapter 3

But Edward's accusations echoed in my head. He had sworn, again and again, that Charles was responsible for his sister's death.

I tested the waters carefully. "Olivia, I heard someone mention Edward's sister the other day. They said there was something suspicious about her death." I paused. "Did you know her?"

Olivia's expression hardened, and she told me never to bring it up again.

She said, "Don't listen to those gossips and their nonsense. I didn't know Emily well, but I met her a couple of times. She was a beautiful, graceful young woman from a fine family, well-read and well-mannered, and stronger than she looked."

Her voice carried a trace of sorrow.

"The Grant family was a mess for years. The father kept his mistress close and pushed his wife aside, and the whole household fell into ruin.

"But Emily held everything together. She was barely more than a girl herself, and she raised her brother all on her own. He was seven years younger than her."

Olivia paused. "She was a remarkable young woman. No one expected her to drown."

Regret and grief settled across Olivia's face.

When I returned to the manor, I changed my clothes and drank a tonic to ward off the chill. Then I headed for the study.

Charles sat at his desk, going through a stack of papers. He looked up when I walked in and set his pen down. "What's wrong?"

"Charles, do you know Edward's sister, Emily Grant?"

He paused for a moment, caught off guard by the question, but he thought it over before answering. "I've run into her at a few gatherings. We exchanged pleasantries, but that was the extent of it."

His face showed nothing but mild confusion. There was no flicker of guilt, no tension, nothing beneath the surface.

I knew Charles. He and Olivia had been sweethearts since they were children, betrothed young, and married for years. He had never so much as raised his voice at her. A man like him would never wrong another woman, and he would never betray Olivia.

So why had Edward claimed that Charles had wronged his sister and taken her virtue?

Had Edward gotten it wrong? Or had someone been feeding him lies?

I pushed the door open, and Wendy was standing by the table with her eyes rimmed red. She clutched a small cloth bundle in her hands.

Her voice wavered. "Ms. Shea, I got the medicine."

*****

I tucked the medicine away safely. Charles' birthday was only two days out, and I wanted to be there to celebrate with him.

I was in a shop, browsing for a birthday present, when someone stepped up behind me. A familiar scent hit me, and my spine went rigid.

Edward whispered, "Sophia."

I spun around to leave, but he grabbed my wrist.

I tried to pull free, but Edward was stronger. He dragged me into a private room at a restaurant down the street.

"Edward, what do you want?" My voice came out tight.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Sophia, you went to the party, and now Charles is going around asking about eligible young noblemen. What exactly are you planning? You think you're going to marry someone else?"

"That's none of your business!"

He seized my chin and forced my face up toward his. "You want to get rid of me? Not a chance."

"You're the one marrying Clara," I fired back. "So where does that leave me?"

He paused for a beat, then scoffed, "Sophia, Clara will be the lady of the Grant household. You're the mistress. You already know where you stand."

I lunged forward and bit down hard on his arm. He hissed in pain, and his grip loosened for just a second. I tore free and bolted for the door.

My hand had just touched the latch when Charles' voice drifted in from the other side.

My fingers froze on the bolt.

Edward leaned against the wall behind me, a half-smile playing on his lips.

He had known all along that Charles was here today, meeting with guests. He had brought me here on purpose.

"Sophia, be good." He walked up behind me and wrapped one arm around my waist. His other hand slid slowly beneath the neckline of my dress.

He asked, "You wouldn't want your dear Charles to walk in and find you half-undressed in another man's arms, would you?"

Laughter filtered through the wall from the next room, Charles' voice mingling with that of some young gentleman. "Go ahead, Sophia. Let your precious Charles and his fine guest hear exactly how you sound when you lose control."

I clamped my teeth down on my lip until I tasted blood. My nails clawed into the plaster on the wall, and blood seeped from beneath my fingertips.

I couldn't make a sound. I couldn't let Charles discover that the sister he treasured was being violated in the room next door.

But my silence only drove Edward further.

The laughter from next door fell silent for a moment.

I was trembling all over, and my tears dropped onto the back of his hand. "Please, please, don't..."

He lowered his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and he sank his teeth into my neck. "Sophia, this is what the Sheas owe me."

In that moment, every last shred of my dignity was ground into the dirt.

I had no idea how long it lasted. By the time it was over, the people next door were long gone.

Edward straightened his collar with deliberate calm and composed himself back into that portrait of noble restraint, as though the man who had pinned me to the wall and violated me was someone else entirely.

I lay crumpled on the floor with my dress torn open and my hair falling loose. I forced myself upright and swung my hand hard across his face. His head snapped to the side.

My whole body shook, and I could taste blood between my teeth. "Edward. I hate you."