Chapter 21
She woke to the smell of vinegar and yeast. Groaning, she clutched her head. It felt like someone was hammering at her skull from the inside. After a moment, her awareness extended beyond the throb, and she understood she was lying down. Her hair, neck and clothes were sticky and wet on one side. Blood, she realized. Her own blood. She rolled over, but nausea and pain gripped her and threatened to drag her back into the dark.
Time passed. She had no idea how long she lay in sick misery, but eventually the world stopped spinning. She tried to take in her surroundings.
It was a tiny space, dark and shadowed, except for the small light of a burning candle on a crate, next to a door. Beside the crate sat the leather satchel of jewels. She reached out. She lay on a straw mattress, thick with blankets. Beyond it was flagstone floor.
A strange, intermittent rumbling hung in the air. She could almost feel it. She didn’t know what it was, but she was grateful for it. Silence would have been so much worse.
Slowly, holding her head steady because it felt as if it might roll off, she moved to a sitting position. Swallowing against the nausea, she braced herself against the wall—and cringed when the door swung open.
Hurley. Only darkness loomed behind him, but the noise intensified.
“Harriett?” she croaked. Her tongue felt thick.
“She’s late,” he said shortly. “I’ll wait a short time, but if she doesn’t return soon, we’ll have to go. There are other spots we can hide.”
Charlotte shuddered at the thought of moving even an inch and he laughed when he saw it. Leaning against the door, he shook his head at her. “I suppose you were shocked when you realized she was working with me?”
She closed her eyes. She didn’t dare shake her head.
“You likely know she hates you.” He gave a short laugh. “I’ll wager you don’t know why.”
Her eyes opened.
He snorted. “The golden swan never sees how she outshines the plain duckling.”
Charlotte’s mouth twisted. “Shehas everything.”
“It does look that way on the surface. She has the money, the titled father, and from what I hear, a remarkably easier life. But there is more going on beneath the surface—and isn’t that always what they say about ducks?” He shrugged. “I imagine she heard one too many times how pretty you are, how charming, how well-read and well-behaved. How you face your hardships with fortitude. It starts to twist in your gut after a while. I understand all of that. It’s why she was so easy to convince—although our shared hatred of you made it easier than anything.”
She closed her eyes again, thinking. Did Hurley resent Gabriel in that way, or had it only been William? And why?
He sank down to sit with his back against the door. For a while he was silent. The rumbling was the only noise between them.
“They did everything together, you know,” Hurley said suddenly. “My father and the old Marquess. They were like brothers, that’s what my mam said.” He spoke as if he was reminiscing over a pint. “The great man. That’s what they call him in Broadscombe. He was always around our small cottage. In and out. I didn’t understand, for a long time, that that’s why my da was so bloody hard on me. Why I could never do good enough. Be good enough. Not until I grew old enough to understand the whispers. Such good friends they were, my da let the great man have a go at my mam, whenever he wanted. That’s what they said. I fought them all, when I heard it, at first. But then I realized the truth. I was the cuckoo in the nest. I wasn’t John Hurley’s son at all, just the great man’s bastard.”
Charlotte said nothing. Was it true? She’d never noticed a resemblance between him and Gabriel. Never noted any similarity at all.
“Didn’t mean anything, did it, though?” he sneered. They were the golden ones in our pond. Lord Whiddon and young Master William.”
“They didn’t have it so easy,” she said quietly.
“A damned sight easier than I ever had it,” he spat. “They had the schooling, the horses, the fine clothes. The bowing and scraping and ‘Yes, sirs.’ All I got was another cuff on the head.”
“You killed William.”
His head jerked up. Even in the dim light, she saw the uneasiness in his eyes before he blinked it away. “Nonsense. I wasn’t even at the tavern that night.”
“You set it up.”
Grudging respect crossed his face. “He figured that out, did he? It’s just as well. William got what was coming to him. So will Whiddon.”
She stiffened and he laughed. “You don’t like that, do you? Well, don’t worry. I’m not going to kill him. At least, not yet. I’m going to make him miserable first.” His gaze glittered. “I’m going to kill you.”
She refused to show fear. Glaring, she projected all the fury that his madness deserved.
“I didn’t think you were going to be of so much use, at first. Sure, he’ll trade free passage for you. Or he thinks he will. But now I hear he’s grown fond of you. So much the better. He’ll lose you, just like he lost his first love.”
