it,â I told him.
He gave the sash a tug. âI know what devils hide beneath,â he said.
Mrs OâDowd invited me to play the piano, or at least to join her in a game of
vingt-et-un
: I declined, pleaded tiredness and retired, calling first for Katy to see her mistress to bed.
That was the last time I slept without a knife under my pillow.
I awakened to find a carcass stretched upon me. The bed sheet was over my face but still I got his smell, of Munster cheese and unwashed body linen. He struck me once, upon the mouth, which then he forced open and proceeded to stuff with his neckcloth, pressing all the while upon my throat with his hand.
My mother had warned me it was bound to happen some time â it was one of the penalties of having a pretty figure â and had told me what to expect. From a young age I knew that all a girl could do was protect her face as best she could and not move a muscle, for with resistance comes the risk of injury. âPractise being dead,â my mother had said.
But for the blow, which caused my teeth to scrape the inside of my cheek, he did not hurt me enough to draw blood; he scarcely moved â just grunted twice and spasmed. Then he slid off me and rolled onto the floor.
I breathed in the smell of him over and over; over and over I inhaled air that he had exhaled. I heard him mutter imprecations against his father-in-law: over and over I heard how he might have married a brewerâs daughter with a quarter of a million, how he had been swindled and tricked into marrying his damned wife, how he wished the old man might die so that he could get his hands on the portion of her dowry that was his due. Over and over I heard the incoherent boasts of what he would do to the brewerâs buxom daughter if he had her, how he would subject her to the same indignities to which I had been subjected. The salacious words that spewed from his mouth filled me with such revulsion that I drew the quilt over my head and tried not to listen. Finally, after half an hour or so of this disjointed monologue, I heard him stumble to his feet and leave the room.
I waited until first light came through the window. Then I dressed and packed my things. There was room in my old cowskin trunk for all but two of Mrs OâDowdâs dresses; these I bundled into my pelisse, which I hefted onto my hip. Negotiating the stairs was not easy. The box that Pether had thrown so easily over his shoulder on the quayside bumped heavily against the treads, and I had to pause at every other step to catch my breath.
It was on the landing that I happened upon Mr OâDowdâs gold fob watch. It had parted company with its chain, and it had a satisfying heft to it.
Outside on the parterre stood â as I had hoped â the cart that had served Mercy as a tumbrel for her kittens. I loaded it with my baggage, turned my back on the odious OâDowd domicile, and set off for Grattan Hill.
8
THE GREY MOIRÃ . The rose-pink sash. Unable to wait for evening, Edie had set the alarm clock for seven rather than eight oâclock and read another section of the manuscript over breakfast. She felt her mouth go dry and her heart pitter-pat as she reached for her notebook and ran a finger along the listed items. There!
74: A grey silk moiré evening dress.
67: A rose-pink sash with appliqué.
She mentally reviewed the other garments she had found in the trunk â the riding habit, the cashmere robe, the dinner gown â and wondered what had happened to the green tabinet and the sprigged mousseline mentioned by the narrator. Had they even existed? Was the manuscript a work of fiction, or was it a memoir? Had Eliza Drury lived and breathed, and maybe even walked the corridors of this house? And if so, what had brought her here from the OâDowdsâ grotesque ménage?
Milo, who had been chewing his teething ring under a kitchen chair, stopped abruptly and pricked his ears.
Olivia Fox Cabane
The Cowboys Unexpected Family
L. Divine
Allison Leigh
Bram Stoker
Tere Michaels
Gustavus Hindman Miller
Jean M. Auel
Betsy Haynes
Connie Mason, Mia Marlowe