Eriam Holden had drawn his last earthly breath seven months ago, but it didn’t matter. When a monster died, it didn’t disappear. Instead, it was relegated to moments of fear and the dregs of nightmares where it laid in wait, claws extended and teeth sharp.
As she waited for the rain to subside, Mara purposefully changed her focus to other things. Like the cup of hot tea that was awaiting her at home, and the book she’d recently started, and—
The churn of carriage wheels on gravel made her heart jump. She hadn’t expected anyone else to be out in such unforgiving elements, but since they were, maybe they could give her a ride to the castle! Slicking her hair behind her ears, she sprang out from under the tree and ran to the road, her wet skirts slapping at her legs as she waved her arms in the air.
“Wait!” she yelled at the black landau slowly making its way along the lane, its occupants obscured behind a high window covered in a swath of red fabric. “Wait, please!”
Having spotted her, the driver—perched atop a riser seat in front of the carriage and looking just as miserable as Mara felt—hauled on the reins and the matching team of gray draft horses came to a plodding halt.
“Miss, do you require assistance?” he called out, cupping his hands around his mouth so that his voice carried over the relentless downpour.
“Yes!” With relief coursing through her and rain coursing down her back, Mara slid down a small embankment and stumbled into the road. She was shivering and soaked to the skin but elated that rescue had come. At least before the door swung open... and her husband glared out.
Chapter Four
“Ambrose.” Mara’s armsfell limply to her sides. “What—what are you doing here?”
“What amIdoing here?” he said, his contemptuous gaze traveling from her knotted hair to her mud-streaked skirts. “What in God’s name areyoudoing here? It’s pouring.”
“Thank you,” she said icily. “I hadn’t noticed.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Get in the carriage, Mara.”
She shook her head even as her teeth began to chatter. “I’d r-rather not.”
“Don’t be a fool.” He opened the door wider and gave a short, impatient jerk of his arm. “You’ll freeze to death out there.”
Would you even care, she wanted to ask, but dared not.
“I prefer to w-walk,” she said instead. “I’ll meet you at the c-c-castle.”
She had never defied him before.
Not openly.
But if his absence had given her anything, it was clarity. A wife’s obedience only went so far and then it had to be earned. She had towantto listen to Ambrose, to trust that he had her best interests at heart, and she didn’t.
Because her husband didn’thavea heart.
Or if he did, it was buried so deep down inside that it had turned to stone a long time ago.
Blinking water from her lashes, she started to walk away from the landau. Yes, it was cold, wet, and the rain showed no signs of ceasing. But she’d prefer to drown in a puddle than sit beside Ambrose in a carriage.
Without warning, a hand clamped onto her elbow and spun her around. She caught a glimpse of furious blue eyes and then Ambrose was dragging her back to the horses despite her best efforts to resist.
“Let me go!” she cried, clawing at the fingers wrapped around her arm like iron manacles.
“When I told you to get in the carriage,” Ambrose said through clenched teeth, “it was not a request.”
No, it never was.
The Duke of Southwick didn’taskfor anything.
He took it.
The driver looked the other way as he shoved her up the steps and onto a padded bench seat. She landed awkwardly, her fall cushioned by the landau’s sumptuous upholstery, and had barely managed to right herself before he slammed the door shut and threw himself into the opposite seat.
“You’re terrible,” she said, glaring at him through a veil of tangled curls.
