“He did not wish for me to grow plump,” she said, still sniffling. “His answer was to withhold food. I’ve hardly eaten in two months, so you would not see any signs of the pregnancy.”
Creston stared at her birdlike arms, her protruding collarbone, and the reality of her situation made him feel sick. He wasn’t the one who had been manipulated by the old earl—it had been Ophelia. She’d been manipulated and abused. That beautiful, bright woman had been in a living hell.
It was appalling.
“My God,” he finally breathed. “I’ve never heard of anything so vile.”
Ophelia put her cloak back on, tying it around her neck. “Will youpleasetake me to the nunnery?” she asked, sniffling. “Or the nearest church so that I may request sanctuary. If it is too much trouble, you can simply tell me where the church is and I shall find it.”
Creston could see the desperation in everything about her. But the one thing that stood out, above all else, was the fact that she had confessed the scheme. She hadn’t needed to do it. She could have very well married him under false pretenses and told him the child was his. Once they were married, there was nothing he could do even if he figured out the offspring didn’t belong to him. She could have trapped him.
But she hadn’t.
The woman had sacrificed her future, so he didn’t have to sacrifice his.
It was one of the bravest things he’d ever seen.
“Hold,” he said, reaching out to grasp her arms carefully. “Just… hold a moment, lady. Sit down. We must speak of this situation.”
Ophelia was confused as he directed her into the chair. “What more is there to say?” she said. “You know the truth now. You cannot marry me.”
He was looking at her seriously. “You’re like your grandfather,” he said. “You are trying to tell me what to do.Stoptelling me what to do.”
She looked as if he’d struck her with his words. She immediately lowered her head and seemed to shrink down. “My apologies, my lord,” she said. “That was not my intention, believe me.”
He pulled his chair close to hers and sat down so that their shins were practically rubbing against one another. He leanedforward, elbows resting on his knees. He was looking at her most intently and, after a moment, he reached up and pulled her hood gently off her head, revealing that glorious hair. Her features came into the weak light.
She seemed to grow more beautiful by the hour.
“I have something to say about all of this,” he said. “Did you think I would not?”
She shook her head. “It is your right to speak, of course,” she said. “But I have told you everything. There is nothing more to tell.”
He nodded. “I understand,” he said. “And I believe I am justified in saying that your news is most shocking. It is also infuriating. If what you’ve said is true, your grandfather is trying to trick me into this marriage, and I will tell you now that no man makes a fool of me, least of all the Earl of Sidbury. What he’s done, to me, is the same as if he had declared war on the House of de Royans. Do you understand me so far?”
Ophelia nodded fearfully. “Please know that I did not support what he was doing,” she said. “But I am in a difficult position. If I did not obey him, he would punish me more than he already has.”
Creston shook his head with regret. “And that’s another thing,” he said. “Did the man truly starve you?”
“He did.”
“Then we add cruelty to his already horrific behavior,” Creston said. “Is your grandfather always like that?”
Ophelia nodded. “Since I can recall,” she said. “He has never forgiven my mother for having been born a woman, nor has he ever forgiven me for the same reason. He never liked Cecil, and he was terribly upset at my mother for agreeing to the betrothal, but when Cecil walked out, he saw his chance to take control of my situation and get what he wanted out of it.”
“Like a good strategist,” Creston muttered. “Why did he not like Cecil?”
“Because he did not choose him.”
“He had no part in it?”
“Nay,” she said. “My mother and I live at Symondsbury, which is where I was born. Grandfather lives in Sidmouth. When my father died, my grandfather showed no real interest in my mother or me, so we remained in Symondsbury. When my grandfather came to the mass where I was supposed to marry Cecil, it was the first time I’d seen him in years. Then, suddenly, he took control of everything, including my betrothal to you.”
Creston grunted. “More than likely because he saw an opportunity to marry you to someone of his choosing,” he said. “All the better for him to create an alliance. But I still cannot understand why Cecil would leave you before your wedding. That is unfathomable. Did he know you were carrying his child?”
She nodded. “He knew,” she said. “I met Cecil when we fostered together at Okehampton Castle. He was handsome, and quite pious, but I decided he was not meant for God but for me. No one rejects the Great Beauty of Dorset—at least, Ithoughtno one would reject me. I was wrong.”
Creston’s eyebrows lifted. “The Great Beauty of Dorset?”
