same breath with which he propositioned her. It was not an unusual tactic for him, only the most blatant.
She flicked her eyes back to him, her stomach curling uncomfortably within her.
“Naturally, as you bear such an unfortunate label, I will not lower myself to the disastrous depths of marrying you,” Sir Reginald was saying, his tight features pulling tighter still with an attempt at a placating smile. “However, I see no reason why this untoward tendency of mine to find such filthy Highland leftovers to be a delicacy of marvelously attractive prospects truly should not avail itself in less legally binding ways.” He wet his lips once, then again, his narrowing eyes travelling the length of her.
Shapeless garment that her dress was, it apparently was not unappealing enough. All that work for nothing. Simms would be so disappointed.
Edith kept her expression, color changing as it might have been, free from further reaction.
“I do not think that would be wise, Sir Reginald.”
A crease formed in his brow, then faded quickly as he folded his hands across his lap.
“I would be more than generous, Lady Edith, when we come to an arrangement in this regard. And you, as I am sure you are aware, are in no position to be particular, should you wish to have any place or position in Society. I control your future and reputation.”
“I know,” Edith murmured as a wave of nausea washed over her.
“You live on my stipend,” he reminded her. “I own this house. I could cast you out in a moment, strip you of all your funds, and see to it that every door in Society would be barred to you. Would you really like to chance what you think would be wise against what I could offer? And what I can take away?”
“I know verra well the limitations of my finances, thank you, Sir Reginald,” Edith snapped, her brogue rolling out, as it tended to with her temper. “And the power given you by the law and your cousin’s inheritance. You do not, however, have authority over my free will.”
“Yet.” Sir Reginald smirked, not at all put off by her reaction. “But the time will come, my dear, when you will choose to do what I request, and that will be a day of great victory for me.”
Edith sank her teeth into the flesh of her tongue, the sharp pain bringing tears to her eyes as she glared at her life’s jailer, villain, and threat. If only the Almighty had endowed her with the power to take life at will, she could be free of her shackles at this moment.
Alas, she was not so blessed, and the druids in her family line had not transferred their abilities through the generations. No power from on high, no gifts from her heritage. Nothing but the wit in her mind and a law that crippled her freedom.
And the plan she would begin this evening, if this creature would only leave her in peace.
“I do hope that you will begin to show yourself in Society, Lady Edith,” Sir Reginald told her as he pushed his wiry frame to his feet. “It would be a shame for you to be so confined as to be without friends or connections.”
Edith found herself flinching at the edge to his tone, the sneer she could hear as well as see. She wasn’t without friends or connections, but for her present situation, she might as well have been. Sir Reginald controlled everything in her life but her friends, and if he knew who her friends were or what their connections were, he would have found a way to intervene.
To ruin it all.
He had done it before.
She managed to contain her disgust long enough for Sir Reginald to bow and leave the tatty drawing room, not even waiting for her to rise and bid him farewell, as he usually expected her to do. When he had gone, Edith sank back against the couch and covered her face, her hands trembling slightly.
“I’d off him if ye’d let me, mistress.”
Edith exhaled a laugh and glanced over at the large, hulking Scot in the doorway. “I’d let ye, if we wouldna have to flee from the law.”
“We?” Owen raised a brow at her, folding his arms. “There’d be no need to include yerself in the affair, mistress. I’d desert my post at yer side and take matters into my own hands, leaving you innocent as a wee babe.”
“Well, that would hardly do for me,” Edith informed him,