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She nodded. “Thank you.” She turned away and resumed pacing, trying to remember where she had left off. He beat me severely, and then… “In my desperation, I started corresponding with a woman I met a long time ago. I didn’t have friends, as I hadn’t spent much time on the marriage mart. Once we were married, he guarded me like a hawk, keeping me away from anyone I might have gotten close to. But this woman was someone I met during my one and only season. She had become a countess too at the time we started corresponding—Lady Sutton. She was living in the country alone, while her husband was frolicking in London. She was lonely, but I thought she was so lucky.”

She glanced at Jacob, who was watching her intently. “She invited me to stay with her for a while. I didn’t have a plan, I didn’t know how long I’d stay for and what I would say to Bradshaw, I just wanted a week or two of peace. But the night I told him I was going to leave for a while was the night an expensive item disappeared from his safe. An emerald choker or something he’d bought for his mistress.” She swallowed, humiliation washing over her face, her cheeks burning with it. “And he thought that it was me. He thought I stole it and was planning on leaving him with it.”

Jacob’s expression darkened further.

“But I didn’t steal it,” she continued, her voice rising slightly. “I didn’t even know what that item looked like…” She paused. “That night, he beat me in a way he never had. Choked me, dragged me by the hair across the hall.”

Jacob fisted his hands, his face red. A vein pulsed at his temple. He drew in a ragged breath, clearly fighting to maintain his composure. “Nobody helped you?” he asked, his voice tight with suppressed rage.

“Servants? What could they do?” Honoria replied sadly. “He was the master of the house. And I was his property. Just like them. They would have been turned out without references, and I would be punished even more.”

Jacob’s jaw worked as he processed this. He nodded for her to continue, though his eyes had taken on a murderous glint.

“He locked me up in a small pantry to punish me. Ordered everyone not to bring me food or drink until I told him where the jewel was.” Her voice trembled. “But I didn’t steal it.” She was barely holding in her tears now, feeling again the terror of those dark hours, the fear, the helplessness, the despair.

“I am going to kill him,” Jacob raged, pacing around the room again, his footsteps heavy on the carpet. “And to think I gave him investment advice when I should have thrust a rapier through his heart.”

“Don’t say that,” she whispered, a tear escaping to trail down her cheek.

“Why not?” he barked, turning sharply to face her, and she flinched away.

Realizing what he’d done, Jacob closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. When he opened them again, they were filled with remorse. “I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you.” He slowly approached her, reaching out his hand like she was a spooked animal.

She took his hand, rough and warm, and he gently tugged her toward his chest, cradling her in his warm embrace. His heart hammered under her ear, his body trembling.

He placed a kiss to the crown of her head, his lips lingering there. “You are safe with me, I promise.” His voice was a low rumble she could feel through his chest.

“I know,” she murmured, allowing herself to relax against him.

“And if I ever do anything that frightens you, even a little, you tell me.”

“I will.” She pulled back slightly to look up at him. “I feel safe with you.”

He kissed her forehead, his arms tightening around her. For a moment, they stood like that, finding comfort in each other’s warmth.

“Did you eventually find out where that jewel disappeared to?” he asked after a while, his voice softer now. “Did the mooncalf misplace it himself?”

She chuckled despite herself. “No. It was stolen by a young woman—an exceptionally skilled thief, just starting her thieving journey. Her name is Lydia.”

Jacob frowned down at her. “How do you know this?”

She disengaged from his arms, needing space again.

“Because apparently, he almost caught her in the act. The moment she snatched the necklace, he entered the room. She had no time to escape, so she hid—behind a curtain, I believe—and left the door to the safe wide open. When he saw the empty safe and found no one else there, he assumed the worst. In his mind, it was either me or the servants. But when he noticed my packed bags, he thought it confirmed everything. That I was stealing from him and running away. So he blamed me.”

Jacob’s expression darkened again, but he remained silent, letting her finish.

“Lydia heard all the commotion, his attack. So when he locked me in that little pantry… she couldn’t leave me. She rescued me and helped me escape.” Honoria’s voice softened. “And we’ve been friends ever since.”

Jacob ran a hand through his hair, looking troubled. “You’ve been friends with a thief whose actions you got punished for?”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Honoria said firmly. “She couldn’t have known. And she saved me. Later, living on the streets with Lydia, hiding in women’s shelters, I met a lot of women like me.” Her voice grew stronger, more confident. “I learned that if it wasn’t that particular incident, something else would have tipped him over the edge, but any other time, Lydia wouldn’t have been there. There would’ve been no one to save me.”

Jacob’s expression shifted as he absorbed this, anger giving way to something else… Sorrow, perhaps? He moved to the fireplace, bracing one arm against the mantel, his head bowed. “I hate that you went through this,” he said quietly. “I wish I could change the past.”

A sad smile graced her lips. “It made me who I am today.”

He turned back to her. “That’s how you came to work for me?”