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skills in any department should work to deliver any more packages for you, cook any more of your meals, launder any more of your clothing, or sort out any further financial woes your vices sink you into.”
The slap that landed across her cheek brought tears to her eyes and made her flesh burn. In that moment something inside her died, and she stared at Clarence with all the disillusionment she felt toward the man who had lurched out of his chair and was now leaning over her with pure menace in his eyes. Determined not to be thwarted by him, she pushed at his shoulders so swiftly and with such determination that he stumbled back and landed against the dresser with a heavy thump.
Before she could speak, the sudden rap of a knock on the door shattered the silence. Fear flooded Clarence’s gaze as he threw a panicked look at the front door visible down the long corridor that ran through the centre of the house.
“It’s for you,” she whispered, unrepentantly merciless.
He threw her a beseeching look, but seemed to realise from the steely look in her eye, and the red mark across her cheek, that he was going to get no help from her.
“Go on then, answer it,” she taunted when the knocking became heavier. “They are waiting.”
Clarence swallowed but didn’t move.
“If you ever lay a hand on me again, I shall turn you over to them myself and let them have at you,” she declared coldly. “Someone is at the door. Nobody even knows I am here so it can’t be for me and you are, after all, the man of the house. Answer it.”
“I-I can’t,” he mumbled.
“God, you are nothing short of a coward,” she spat when he didn’t move or speak. “I wonder what mother ever saw in you. You are a coward and an ingrate.”
“Watch your mouth,” Clarence snapped.
This time though, Poppy was not going to be bullied by him. She took a breath and opened her mouth. “I wonder what they would do if I screamed?”
“Bloody keep quiet,” he snarled. Racing to the back door, he frantically slid the bolt home with a dull thud. When the knocking continued, he raced to the hallway door and closed it quietly before he tore across the kitchen and drew the bedraggled pieces of fabric across the window. They didn’t meet in the middle, but it was enough to provide them with some shelter from prying eyes outside.
“Where are you going?” he gasped in horror when she moved to the hallway door and went to open it.
“It is you they are after, not me,” she replied. “There is no reason why I should hide.”
With more confidence than she really felt she yanked open the door and made her way to the stairs. She could see the tall, dark silhouette on the doorstep and knew immediately that it wasn’t the man she had met in the park: Luke Brindley. He had lighter hair and was even taller than the unknown caller on the doorstep. Sensing it had something to do with the money in the kitchen cupboard, she hoped and prayed that Clarence was indeed a coward and wouldn’t find the confidence to open the door. At least then he wouldn’t learn the truth for another few hours. That’s all she needed now to decide not only what to do next, but how she was going to go about doing it.
“You can’t go walking about in London by yourself,” she whispered as she closed her bedroom door behind her to block out the repetitive knocking Clarence refused to answer.
“It’s time to leave,” she murmured.
“Poppy, get down here gel,” he demanded in a hushed whisper, but she ignored him.
She had no intention of ever doing anything Clarence told her to do again. Not while she had breath in her body and a brain in her head. She was an independent woman of means now. It was irrelevant to her that those ‘means’ didn’t actually belong to her. She had borrowed the money from Peter, so for now it really belonged to her and she had every right to use it for herself.
It still bothered her that when he had handed the money over, Peter had
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