“Ma’am,” she says, giving a curtesy.
“I must see Mr. Saintsbury.”
“He is not at home, ma’am. I am very sorry.”
“I know he is here.”
“He is indisposed, ma’am.”
“I do not care. Let me in.”
The girl cowers—and opens the door.
I have not been in the vicarage for years and I never saw the family rooms. But it does not matter. I navigate the place quickly.
I find the door to the study and push it open.
And there sits Alfred.
He is sitting on a sofa by the window.
“There you are. I have come to speak reason to you.”
He levels me with his greengaze.
“Have you?”
“Yes. You are being very disobedient.”
“And you’ve come to punish me?”
“If I must. You forget yourself, Alfred. I could still dismiss you from your post. And then what would become of you.”
He gives me a sullen look.
“Would you really do that?”
“Yes,” I say, not, in fact, at all certain of what I would do. “If you disobey me.”
“And what is it that you want from me, Annabelle?”
“For you to be reasonable.”
“What does reason look like in a case such as this one?”
“Accepting the reality of your situation.Oursituation.”
I move towards him. I want him so badly my blood pounds and my head hurts.
“Which is?”
“That you belong to me and everyone is about to know it.”
“What if I don’t want to belong to you?”
“You have no choice,” I say. “I own you, don’t you see?”
As I say the words, I shrug off my mantle. I shuck off my boots.
