“A… a problem?” She took a step back.
“Alaric was never supposed to wed again.” His voice turned cold, even colder than the look in his eyes. “After his last marriage and the disaster that came from it…” He scoffed and shook his head. “You have no idea the lengths I had to go to so I could clean that mess up. Which I had, by the way. Oh, sure, Alaric has a reputation that will never leave him. But it worked because it kept him isolated and out of people’s thoughts.”
“His wife…” Clara’s heart began to race. “What… is what you told me true? I have a right to know.”
He ignored the question. “And then you came along…” His lip curled into a sneer. “A problem, as I saw it. Oh, I had hoped that maybe Alaric had changed and that the two of you could live happily ever after. Truly, that would have worked best for everyone. But Alaric is a mercurial character, and when he came to me, I realized that if your marriage was allowed to continue unimpeded, it would end badly. Perhaps not right away. Perhaps not for some years. But the worst would happen, be sure of that! And I refuse to sit about and simply watch as all I have worked toward becomes undone.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand…” Her heart was racing, anxiety growing because there was a look in the lord’s eyes which terrified her.
“Alaric thinks that you are being sent away somewhere that he cannot get to you,” he continued, his eyes flashing at her. “He thinks that you will be taken care of. Alas, to do so would be a risk, as I cannot allow you to change your mind – or him, for that matter! Best that you be forgotten, that Alaric returns to his old ways, and that the ton forgets as they are so good at doing.”
Again, Clara took a step back. “What… what are you saying?”
“You are a problem,” he said. “One I am yet to decide how to deal with.” He rubbed his fat chin with his stubby fingers as he studied her. “Likely, I will be forced to do the worst…” He let that thought trail, and she gasped as she understood now what he was implying. “But we are not there yet.”
“No!” she cried. “Please, you do not have to – I will leave,” she begged. “Do as you promise and send me away. I promise I will do whatever you ask.”
“I wish that I could,” he sighed as if with regret. “Alas, I have my family’s name to worry about. You understand.”
“My… my father –”
“Cares not a whit for you and you know it.” He chuckled and then walked toward her. She gasped and brought her arms to her chest in protection, only for him to walk around her and head for the door. “For now, Your Grace, you are stuck here. And you best pray that I devise another means to be rid of you.”
“P – please!” She turned and reached for him, not daring to get too close. “Do not… You do not have to do this! I beg you!”
“I am sure you do.”
“Alaric!” she cried next, chasing him from the cabin. “If he finds out, he will… he will…” She could not even finish the threat as she knew it had no teeth.
Lord Wolfe chuckled as he climbed atop his horse. “Do not think Alaric will save you. As I said, I was not lying when I told you he wished for me to take you from Ravencourt Castle. Silly him, he did not stop to hammer out thehowof it. But if I know Alaric, as I do, he will have already forgotten you. Such is his way.”
“No…”
Clara felt a stabbing pain through her insides like a knife was driving itself through her. She grabbed her stomach and hunched over, nearly vomiting, her entire body shaking as if it might implode. She fell to her knees, weak and disoriented, able to do nothing as Lord Wolfe kicked his feet into his mount and took off, gone within seconds.
Clara could not decide what was worse. That she had been right and that Alaric did indeed want nothing to do with her, or that Lord Wolfe, if pushed to it, would make it so that she might never see the light of day again.Or worse…
She supposed it did not matter which was worse. Both presented a fate that saw her end. Alaric did not love her. Lord Wolfe had taken her prisoner. And to tie it all into a bow, nice and neat, there was nothing that she could do.
Trapped once again, and this time there would be no escape.
Twenty-One
Alaric found himself standing in the doorway of the once-abandoned music room in his home. He had not meant to walk inside, but on his way past, he noticed that the door was ajar, and he simply could not help himself…
This was a mistake.
Not coming in here, but everything else I have done since the wedding.
The room was alive like Alaric had not seen it in years. He had known that Clara was redecorating the room, and indeed he had secretly sent for new curtains because… well, at the time he couldn’t even say why. Because he wanted her to be happy? Because he felt guilty over the way he had been ignoring her? It was just one of many examples of his emotions wreaking havoc with him, and in that moment of weakness, he had bent and dared to show how much he cared.
He could feel himself bending once again. Not quite breaking, but it was a close thing.
The last time Alaric had set foot in this room was after Helena had died. He had done so to punish himself, as Helena had loved this room and spent hours a day here, practicing her skills on the pianoforte, even forcing Alaric to listen to her on occasions. Following her death, he’d had the staff pack the room and lock it closed, never to be entered again, never to remind him of what he had done.
It is so strange that Clara chose this room of all the rooms in the castle to redecorate. A coincidence to be sure, but one whose meaning I can’t ignore as much as I’d like to.
The new curtains had been drawn back, allowing a soft light through the window, so it was bright and warm in ways that made Alaric feel uncomfortable. The chairs were set. The furniture and instruments were cleaned. Cobwebs removed. Flowers planted in vases. It looked exactly as he remembered it.
