Halfway through the night, while he pressed a damp cloth to his temple and sat near the window to get the cool air. The lands beyond this home were large and extensive, and William sardonically noted that the square of the garden below him, including the maze just beyond, could have comfortably housed ten families he had seen in the slums in London.
The rich only care about getting richer. I am surprised that Rachel has seen it and even more that she hates it.
He managed to doze a little before dawn and woke up just as the sun was rising. His headache was a soft thrum at the base of his head, which William was thankful for as he washed and dressed.
Is Rachel going to talk to her parents about Strathmore?
After a light morning meal, he arrived at the library to see Miss Colton pacing anxiously. That did not bode well.
“Good morning, Miss Colton,” he bowed. “Is Lady Hampton well th—”
The stinging sound of aslapjust beyond the door had him spinning on his heel and racing out to see Rachel slumping on a wall while her mother walked away. Rage flew into his head, making his vision flash red and black, and he nearly lurched at the woman, but Rachel’s choked cry had him stopping and turning back to her.
He slid a hand under her back and braced her shoulder on his to give him room to guide her into the library gently. Her left cheek was already starting to turn a mottled red bruise, and his heart burned with grief and anger for her.
She did not deserve this. No one did.
Crouching at her knees, he gently peeled her hand away from her cheek and stared with numb disbelief that her own mother had slapped her hard enough for bruises to start.
“Miss Colton, please fetch a cold cloth for Lady Hampton, please,” he requested. “The colder, the better.”
“Yes, Mister Smith,” the maid hurried out of the room.
Taking her hand, he kissed her knuckles. “What happened, sweetling? Why would your mother hurt you?”
“I told her that I do not want to have any more contact with Lord Strathmore,” Rachel said hollowly. “She did not take it well.”
William lifted his hand but stopped inches from her cheek. He wanted to touch her but not if it would give her any pain. “God knows Rachel, I would take you away from this if I could.”
Tears began beading in her eyes. “I know.”
Instead of touching her cheek, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You deserve so much more than this.”
Her opposite hand framed his cheek and her fingers traced over his cheekbone. “You were Galahad in your first life, weren’t you?”
His heart ached. Her struggles and pain drew forth a surge of tenderness in him. Never had he experienced this desire to soothe a woman, comfort her, and protect her from all that would harm her. William did not have to question the emotion turning his heart into liquid or the fire resting in his belly—he had fallen in love with Rachel.
“I am hardly that pure, sweetheart.”
Shaking her head, she said, “Why is it that you seem to understand me more than anyone dares to…more than I seem to understand myself?”
Because you're mine.The possessive certainty gripped him and rang true in his soul though he could not fathom how to make it so. He leaned his head into her hand and tried to battle the feeling to either stalk down the corridor, find the Duchess and berate her, or smuggle Rachel out of the home.
But to where?
The tender moment was broken when the door to the room opened, and the maid came in, holding a water basin and some cloths stuck under her arm.This was the first time their relationship had been shown to anyone else, and while it was inevitable that it would be revealed, he had not planned for Miss Colton to find out yet.
Nevertheless, William pulled away from Rachel and allowed Miss Colton to tend to her mistress. While he pretended to look along the shelves, his inner soul seethed. Rachel had told him that her parents were relentless, but he had not thought he would ever see it.
And he knew that what she had said was true—she would never survive being married to that man. Especially as her parents were still going to ingrate themselves into her marriage and pull their strings as if they were puppets.
But how can she get away from here and not suffer? I do not think her parents would be forgiving enough to send her help.
He could hear hushed whispers passing between Rachel and Miss Colton but did not push himself to listen in to what they were saying. If they were whispering, there was a reason behind it, so he left them to their privacy.
It was difficult to believe that their session would continue. With how injured Rachel was, he could only see her going to the room to lie down but when Rachel called to him telling him that she was ready for her session, his jaw dropped.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
