opinion.
Putting the diary down, Hannah bristled both on Honoraria’s behalf and her own. “You are bullies,” she said. “All of you. Present and past.”
“Oh, yes?” Lorcan looked up from his own book. “What makes you say that?”
“What was done to Honoraria was cruel and unnecessary.”
“What was done to her? I confess, I have not read her diary myself. It felt like too private a thing to intrude upon.”
“She was… whipped. With a tree branch or something.”
“Ah,” Lorcan said, the hint of a smile playing around masculine lips. “A switch. That would probably work wonders on you. You’ve got a very tender bottom.”
“Lorcan!” Hannah scowled at him furiously. “You’re a brute.”
“Hardly,” he said, smiling at her. “I’ve let you wallow for a week. If one of my ancestors got their hands on you, you’d be scrubbing out chamber pots and getting your bottom whipped at least once a day for your attitude. I’m a kinder, gentler alpha.”
She let out a laugh, the first she’d had since Sacha’s attack. It felt good to smile again.
“Okay,” she said, tossing the covers back. “I’m going to get up.”
“You have free run of the manor, and the manor grounds,” Lorcan said. “But make sure you stay off the heath, understand?”
“Yes, sir, of course, sir,” Hannah said, bobbing into a cheeky little curtsey.
He gave her a dark warning look, but said nothing more.
* * *
Lorcan had been quite clear about the fact she was not supposed to leave the manor, but Hannah soon discovered there were at least half a dozen doors that led out of that place and Lorcan simply didn’t have the manpower to have most of them watched. His pack was small, and some of them were apparently keeping Sacha under watch. There was, therefore, nobody actually stopping her from leaving either the manor house, or the grounds themselves, which were similarly unguarded and open.
Having come upon a small side door, she stepped out of it. Simply feeling the elements on her skin was refreshing, her feet on the earth. Just being outside under a sky that was expansive and rarely for England, bright, raised her spirits.
The heath around Darkwood Manor extended as far as the eye could see. She knew the village was fifty miles or so down the road. And she knew there was a bus that connected the village to the rest of the world. It would not be all that difficult to walk. It would probably take a day or so to walk it, but she could manage that if she got some food and water from the kitchen.
She took a few steps away from the house, just to see if anyone would notice. Nothing happened. She kept going, right out to the back fence, which was merely a low hedge separating lawn from heath. Still nothing happened. Then she climbed the fence and wandered a few steps onto the heath. It was starting to become apparent that Lorcan’s dire promises of punishment aside, there was no real way for him to enforce his will.
It was nice to feel free and to spend some time on her own, so she kept walking through the craggy, tussock-y terrain, bright heather bushes growing among the long grasses. It was a strange landscape, vaguely alien in a way she found hard to define. It was beautiful, but in a somewhat solemn, somber way, especially when the sky became overcast.
A sound in the distance made her turn her head. She turned to see Lorcan standing by the manor fence, gesturing at her, wanting her to come back. She took a step toward him, then stopped. What if she didn’t go to him? What then? She was far enough away that she could not properly hear what he was saying, there was some plausible deniability to be had in pretending she couldn’t hear him.
She waved at Lorcan, then turned and kept walking in the direction she had originally chosen. It wasn’t as if getting lost was a possibility; the manor was a monolith in the middle of all the tussock, easily seen for many miles around.
She didn’t dare
Putting the diary down, Hannah bristled both on Honoraria’s behalf and her own. “You are bullies,” she said. “All of you. Present and past.”
“Oh, yes?” Lorcan looked up from his own book. “What makes you say that?”
“What was done to Honoraria was cruel and unnecessary.”
“What was done to her? I confess, I have not read her diary myself. It felt like too private a thing to intrude upon.”
“She was… whipped. With a tree branch or something.”
“Ah,” Lorcan said, the hint of a smile playing around masculine lips. “A switch. That would probably work wonders on you. You’ve got a very tender bottom.”
“Lorcan!” Hannah scowled at him furiously. “You’re a brute.”
“Hardly,” he said, smiling at her. “I’ve let you wallow for a week. If one of my ancestors got their hands on you, you’d be scrubbing out chamber pots and getting your bottom whipped at least once a day for your attitude. I’m a kinder, gentler alpha.”
She let out a laugh, the first she’d had since Sacha’s attack. It felt good to smile again.
“Okay,” she said, tossing the covers back. “I’m going to get up.”
“You have free run of the manor, and the manor grounds,” Lorcan said. “But make sure you stay off the heath, understand?”
“Yes, sir, of course, sir,” Hannah said, bobbing into a cheeky little curtsey.
He gave her a dark warning look, but said nothing more.
* * *
Lorcan had been quite clear about the fact she was not supposed to leave the manor, but Hannah soon discovered there were at least half a dozen doors that led out of that place and Lorcan simply didn’t have the manpower to have most of them watched. His pack was small, and some of them were apparently keeping Sacha under watch. There was, therefore, nobody actually stopping her from leaving either the manor house, or the grounds themselves, which were similarly unguarded and open.
Having come upon a small side door, she stepped out of it. Simply feeling the elements on her skin was refreshing, her feet on the earth. Just being outside under a sky that was expansive and rarely for England, bright, raised her spirits.
The heath around Darkwood Manor extended as far as the eye could see. She knew the village was fifty miles or so down the road. And she knew there was a bus that connected the village to the rest of the world. It would not be all that difficult to walk. It would probably take a day or so to walk it, but she could manage that if she got some food and water from the kitchen.
She took a few steps away from the house, just to see if anyone would notice. Nothing happened. She kept going, right out to the back fence, which was merely a low hedge separating lawn from heath. Still nothing happened. Then she climbed the fence and wandered a few steps onto the heath. It was starting to become apparent that Lorcan’s dire promises of punishment aside, there was no real way for him to enforce his will.
It was nice to feel free and to spend some time on her own, so she kept walking through the craggy, tussock-y terrain, bright heather bushes growing among the long grasses. It was a strange landscape, vaguely alien in a way she found hard to define. It was beautiful, but in a somewhat solemn, somber way, especially when the sky became overcast.
A sound in the distance made her turn her head. She turned to see Lorcan standing by the manor fence, gesturing at her, wanting her to come back. She took a step toward him, then stopped. What if she didn’t go to him? What then? She was far enough away that she could not properly hear what he was saying, there was some plausible deniability to be had in pretending she couldn’t hear him.
She waved at Lorcan, then turned and kept walking in the direction she had originally chosen. It wasn’t as if getting lost was a possibility; the manor was a monolith in the middle of all the tussock, easily seen for many miles around.
She didn’t dare
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