She tugged her arm away, her eyes dropping to the floor. “He hasn’t touched me since my engagement. Besides, Leeland will take me away from all this in a few months.”
Leeland. Yuri raked a hand through his hair. He didn’t trust that man to behave himself around Rosalind either. “Is he going to treat you any better?”
Her lip trembled, but all she said was, “He hasn’t hit me.”
“Not yet. But he’s known for having a temper when he drinks. What’s he going to do when he takes you to a completely different city?”
“Please, Yuri, this isn’t your problem,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the rain on the roof.
“What if I want it to be?” he rasped, his voice coarse and gritty.
Something flickered across her face—surprise, confusion, hope?—he wasn’t sure what to name it.
“I have a plan, but it’s complicated.”
“How’s it complicated?”
A strand of golden hair had come loose from her pins, and she shoved it away from her face. “If I leave, if I run wherever you want me to go, my father will be able to find me. And now he has Leeland to help him.”
“No. We’ll put you somewhere safe, hide you in a small town where he’d never think to look.” He’d put more thought into this than he wanted to admit.
She shook her head. “It won’t be enough. He’ll still find me.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “How? He can’t send men to search every town in the country. That’s impossible even for him.”
“That’s not how he’ll find me.” She turned toward the crate of books again, as though suddenly remembering there was work to be done. “He’ll trace me through my money.”
“You mean the donations you make to the charities? Isn’t that your father’s money?”
She bent to pick up one of the books, then frowned at him. “No. It was my mother’s. She left me an inheritance after she died, and when I turned eighteen, I got access to the money. I’ve been investing on my own for the past four years, and I have six places I support. You already know about the charities. Even if I leave, my solicitor will still need to send money to my list of charities, which means I’ll have to communicate with him. It’s the same solicitor who handled my mother’s accounts before she died, and my father knows him. That’s how he’ll find me.”
The money she was donating to charities was hers? Yuri stared at her. Everything he’d thought he’d known about Rosalind Caldwell had just cracked down the middle not once but twice in the course of the same conversation.
“I, ah... I assume this is a good amount of money?” It had to be for her to support so many charities.
“Yes.” She pressed onto her toes and slid the book she was holding onto the top shelf. “I’ve managed the investments on my own too, but even though none of it belongs to my father, he’s powerful enough to pressure the bank into putting his name on my account. And once he does that, he could take the money from me. Then where would I be?”
“I don’t even want to know how much ‘a good amount’ is in your world.”
The town might whisper behind her back about her privilege and her father’s power, but she’d really been investing and giving to others, making decisions for herself and growing a future. All while being too trapped to fully make use of her money.
He gave his head a small shake. “I could lend you money to live on for a few months, and surely the orphanages and women’s shelters and all the other places you’ve been supporting will understand if you ceased your donations for a bit so we can get your funds transferred to another bank and moved to a new solicitor that your father doesn’t know about.”
She turned to him, another book in her hand. “In order to change solicitors, I’d have to go to Washington, DC. But after that, I could leave and disappear rather quickly, couldn’t I? I suppose I could send all the charities rather large gifts in February and explain in my letter that I won’t be able to send funds for six months. That should be enough time to get my money moved.”
“Do it, Ros, and don’t wait until February. Do it now. None of the places you support would want you living in a situation where you could be hurt just so you can send them money.”
She swallowed, the delicate muscles of her throat working.
“Promise me you’ll do it. Promise me you’ll try to leave.” He took a step closer, not caring how desperate he sounded. “Before you get hurt worse. Don’t let your fear of your father stop you from doing what you need to do most. God will protect you.”
“I’m already working on a plan. It will take time, maybe a month or two, but you don’t need to worry. Father hasn’t been violent lately.” Rosalind slid the book in her hand onto the shelf that was even with her elbow. “Father didn’t even get angry after I failed to get the library named after him.”
“That’s why you wanted to...” His throat turned dry, memories of last week’s library committee meeting flooding his mind. “He’s... he’s going to hurt you if we don’t plaster the name Caldwell on the new library?”
“That’s what I’m saying. Usually he’d be angry with me, but when I got back from the meeting last week, prepared to give him the news, Leeland was there, and he proposed.” She bent down and picked up three books from the crate. “Father wasn’t even upset about the library.”
“But he will be once we pick a name.”
