“Would you have me offer myself for Anne?” Beresford’s tone is harsh, wretched. “Do you know what I suffered as the wight’s prisoner? No, of course you don’t. You cannot possibly imagine it. Decades of torment, of helplessness, of despair.” He yanks me closer to his side. “Then I get my first taste of pleasure and happiness, and you expect me to give it up? To go back to the prison from which your daughter freed me?”
“She isn’t saying that,” I protest. “I can’t lose you either. I can’t bear for you or Anne to suffer.”
“Then I’ll offer myself,” my mother says tightly. “Mine was the womb that produced you. I schemed with Grandmother Riquet to keep the Barrow-Man suppressed all those years. Maybe vengeance against me will be worth something to him.”
Beresford scoffs bitterly. “It won’t be enough.”
“At least I can fucking try,” she spits out. “Which is more than you’re willing to do, you coward.”
She turns on her heel and marches out of the house.
I lunge against Beresford’s hold, yanking so hard my arm hurts. “Mama, don’t! Beresford, you have to let me go! We can’t let her do this. It has to be me.”
“No.” He scoops me up without warning and climbs the stairs, gripping my body so firmly that even though I thrash, I can’t get free.
“Beresford, stop,” I gasp. “What are you doing? You can’t keep me here.”
“I can.”
“You’re going to lock me up?”
“Apparently I must.”
He’s striding with unwavering purpose across the balcony, down the southern hallway, toward the blue door. My heart seizes with horror at the thought of being locked inside that bloodstained room.
“This is a temporary measure, until I can alter our bedroom door to lock only from the outside,” he says.
“Beresford.” I twist in his arms, desperate to get through to him. “You can’t do this. Think about what the Barrow-Man did to you, what the original Beresford did to women. You’ll be no better than them.”
“There is a great difference, because I am doing this to save you,” he replies. “Rather than being raped and tortured, you will be treated with the utmost care and respect. You’ll be given everything you could need or want.”
“Except freedom. Except achoice, a chance to do something to save my sister.”
He adjusts his hold, pinning me to his chest with his left arm while his right hand fumbles with the ring of keys. He manages to find the little gold one and inserts it in the lock. Opening the door, he sets me down inside.
Immediately I try to charge out again, but his giant body fills the doorframe. He’s a wall. There’s no getting past him.
So I change tactics. I sink to the floor, letting my soft white robe slip off one shoulder, allowing it to part in the front so it barely covers my breasts. My hair is unbound, tumbling in dark waves around my shoulders. I look up at my husband with tear-filled eyes.
He gazes down at me, his gaze softening. He loves me, and what man could bear to see the woman he adores weeping and pleading at his feet?
It’s manipulative as fuck, but I’m desperate.
Beresford’s mouth forms a grim line, and he forces himself to look away. “Neither your tears nor your beauty will change my mind. You don’t seem to understand that I’m trying to save you.”
“And you don’t seem to understand that I don’t want to be saved. Not like this.”
“How, then? Because I will not allow you to take your sister’s place.”
“Maybe there’s another way. We haven’t given ourselves time to consider the options. Beresford, please… I promise I won’t go to the Barrow right away. I’ll stay, and we’ll talk. But first, you must go after my mother. You must stop her from trying to bargain with the wight by herself. He’ll kill her.”
“Yes, he will,” Beresford agrees.
“You like my mother, don’t you? You don’t want her to die.”
“She’s not too fond of me. But yes, I like her. I’ll bring her back, but you must wait here.”
“You’re going to lock me in?”
