A Love So Dark (The Dark Regency Series Book 4) by Chasity Bowlin Page B

this.”
    She looked at him then, turning back to glance over her shoulder as she hunched forward. It was not the posture of a woman. It was the posture of a wild animal—a threatened one. It was also the only warning he had. She launched herself at him, teeth and claws. One of her hands connected with his cheek, scoring his flesh.
    He backed away slowly as she screeched, tugging at her bonds as she tried to reach him with hands already bloodied from her incessant scratching of the floor. That he was just out of reach only infuriated her more. She began to tug at her hair, pulling at it so viciously that it began to come out in her hands.
    Griffin stepped forward then, ducking until he could grab her from behind. Wrestling her to the floor, his arms locked about her, he held her as tightly as he could without injuring her further. And then he rocked her gently, lulling her.
    Mrs. Webster entered the room. She spoke softly, as she only ever did in Cassandra’s presence. “The whole house is awake now. The new footmen are whispering about banshees.”
    “I’d rather it were banshees,” he admitted gruffly.
    “It isn’t because of you,” the woman offered brusquely. “It’s because of all he did to her. Tormented the wee thing till her poor mind just broke under the strain.”
    “I don’t wish to discuss it,” he said sharply.
    “Whether we discuss it or not, it’s still the truth! And you’ve brought a young and lovely bride into this house. How long before you’re on her the same way he was on every woman who crossed this threshold?”
    Fury welled within him. “I am not my uncle.”
    “And your father?” Mrs. Webster asked. “He wasn’t so much better, now was he? Knowing what this family is, the curse that follows it, put two children in your mother’s belly and then a bullet in his own head!”
    “Enough!” Griffin shouted so loudly that the room nearly shook with it. Dust drifted down from the rafters. In his arms, Cassandra screamed louder. “Do not speak of my parents again. And you will not mention my uncle in this room ever. Are we clear?”
    Mrs. Webster nodded. “Very well, my lord. But you shouldn’t come in here alone. She fears men, you see. Even those that would do her no harm. If you must come to see her, wait until I can come with you.”
    The truth of that burned to his very soul. Cassandra did fear him. Slowly, being as gentle with her as possible, he lowered her to the floor and rose. He walked away from her slowly, reluctantly and filled with the same guilt and regret that always consumed him. He had failed to protect her and she was paying the ultimate price for it. Trapped in her own mind, in a world where unspeakable things were visited on her over and over again, there was no reprieve.
    “I thought to comfort her when I heard her cries,” he said softly. “But it appears you are right and I have only made it worse.”
    “Sometimes, I think your presence is a comfort to her. On her good days, that is. But on her bad days, when she wails and carries on in the daytime, too, when not a soul has spoken to her, it is not. Yet you come here every night, you talk to her, and then you blame yourself when she does this.”
    “I think I’m making her worse,” he admitted.
    “No. But you’re not making her better… and maybe it’s time to accept that there won’t be a better for her. Some things, once broken, cannot be put back together.”
    Cassandra had ceased her rocking back and forth, but she was still on alert, her eyes wide and shifting quickly between them. “You’re in a shockingly charitable mood tonight, Mrs. Webster. Almost comforting even.”
    The housekeeper shrugged. “I’m not without feeling, my lord. But that doesn’t mean I approve of how you’ve handled things. There are hospitals for people like Cassandra. And I think it’s high time you looked into one.”
    “I can’t do that,” he said firmly.
    “Why not?”
    He glanced at her. “Because