“What would you like me to do?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked again.
“What can you do?”
She snorted. “The possibilities are quite abundant, dear. But you should have some input. I’m hoping to receive a proposal from Hugstead very soon. We only need to keep you here for a little while longer.”
Flick shook her head and pressed her fist to her mouth. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Say the word, and I will take care of it. You don’t have to face them. I’ve dealt with fiercer beasts.”
Flick stood and Tristan balled his fist to keep himself from reaching for her. He stood by the door, afraid if he got too close, his control would break.
“Do what you think is best,” she said.
“Return to your room and rest. You look as though you didn’t sleep well. I’ll send Milly in with a fresh pot of tea for sleep.”
Flick turned and she met his gaze. She stood there, eyes wide.
“We can handle them,” he assured her.
She straightened. “Shouldn’t I do it?”
Tristan shook his head. “You don’t have to. I will keep you safe.”
He could see her courage falter for a moment. Her lips trembled, but then she lifted her chin. “I’m so tired, Tristan. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want them to see me and know that I’m choosing to not come back. That they can’t control me anymore.”
He stepped forward.
“If that is what you wish,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said.
Tristan balked. “You don’t know what they will do or say.”
“They can’t hurt me more than they already have,” Flick said. “This time I won’t be alone.”
Damn it all, he wanted to kiss her.
“We’ll all be there for you,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said. “I support you in this. You’ll never feel safe if you don’t confront them yourself.” She stood. “Come. But whatever hurtful words they weaponize against you, remember who you are, Miss Brandon.”
With that bit of advice, Mrs. Dove-Lyon led them to the gallery of the ladies’ area, looking over the main floor. The area was empty but for a single maid dusting the arms of the wall sconce.
“Show them in,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon ordered one of the servants. Tristan could see them taking up hidden places to watch the spectacle that was about to happen.
“Perhaps there is a better location for this? Your parlor, perhaps?” he suggested.
“No, I want them to see her one last time above them,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon stated.
Flick stood beside him.
“You don’t have to do this,” he appealed to her. This would shake her more than any other moment. She’d endured so much. She shouldn’t have to face them again.
“I do. I want to see their faces when I tell them I won’t be going home ever again.” She stepped up to the railing beside Mrs. Dove-Lyon.
Tristan’s gut knotted. This was the wrong way to do this, but he couldn’t stop her.
Chapter Fourteen
Felicity’s hands wereso cold she couldn’t feel the wood under her palms. Time seemed to slow as she waited, eyes on the doors that led to the gentlemen’s entry. Either someone was stomping or it was her own heart she could hear, hammering away in her chest. A figure appeared, alone, dressed in the Den uniform, followed by the robed specter of her father, and then Chadwick. He looked... unchanged. So much more blandly normal than the monster she held in her memories, and yet her heart lurched with fear.
They both looked up at once, as if they could sense her, predators scenting their prey.
