© 2020
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I
Coventry, 1825
Midhill Manor was the first large stone dwelling ever built in the prosperous sheep farming community of Coventry. Peter Graves, the first owner, thought the name his beautiful young bride had given their home too grand not to make it stand out. A fur trader, he had worked hard and survived many perilous trips to the colonies to amass a substantial fortune. With that, he built Midhill Manor, a double storey house of renown. Noblemen and ladies had dined in these halls, and that rich history had elevated the significance of the Graves name. So, when Jane Graves, great-great-great granddaughter of Peter Graves was born, she took her first steps in this very house. She had her first scraped knee on the step just outside the kitchen back door. She had sat through numerous dull social occasions in the opulent sunroom to appease her strict grandmother. Jane especially remembered the awkward moments in the same room when she had turned eighteen and the suitors came calling. Even then, the house still held its charm for her. She loved everything about it, even that little loose board in front of her bedroom that had heralded her mother arriving when the older woman came to check in on her late at night.
It creaked now.
The sound made her body go rigid.
The door to her room opened and closed. Jane lay still, her head turned away from the door and her heart thundering in her chest. The bed dipped and the scent of cigars and brandy assailed her nostrils. A hand on her hip flipped her over on her back and she kept her eyes closed tightly as a tall, slender body slid over hers. She blocked out what followed. Lucky for her it never lasted very long. He left just as quickly. Jane rose and, pouring water into the basin, washed up. She used copious amounts of rose water to remove his scent, changed the linen, and went to sit before the fire. The thought of remaining in bed made her nauseous. He wouldn’t be back again tonight.
Her husband.
Amongst the suitors who came calling was the handsome Corporal Richard Egerton. He had it all; looks and a thriving career in Her Majesty’s Royal Army. The women adored the handsome soldier, but he seemingly wanted only her.
And he got her.
Thanks to her Aunt Portia.
Since then, the house she had loved so much from the time she was a child, had become her gilded cage. Richard quickly showed his true colours after the wedding. She was not allowed to leave the Estate and unexpected visits were prohibited. Visitors to Midhill Manor had to tender their requests at least two weeks in advance. That way he had time to get the cook to care for her injuries before anyone saw them.
Three years of unceasing abuse had left her silent and withdrawn. Her two cousins stopped coming around when Richard kept making up excuses for them to see her. The only access she had to the outside world was the letters she received from them and the few friends who stuck around. Richard censored her replies, but Jane didn’t care too much about that. It was enough for her to know that there were people out there who were happy. People who laughed, danced and had picnics. She lived vicariously through every one of those letters.
Richard didn’t know that.
For if he did, he would’ve taken that away from her, too. Thus, she maintained a nonchalant attitude every time he brought her a letter. A log fell, shooting off tiny sparks and stirring her from her reverie. She moved to the bed and crawled under the fresh sheets.
***
The house was quiet and dark as Hirsh made her rounds, banking the flames in fireplaces, blowing out the lanterns and locking doors and windows. She hated this part of the day. Sound travelled fast when the house was quiet and she didn’t always like what she heard. At least tonight, she was saved from those wretched noises. She quickly finished her tasks and pulled the back door closed behind her as she made the brief trip through the garden to her cottage. Behind her, she heard a door bang shut on the first floor and shook her head. She’d never understand these people with money. Whereas money would buy others some freedom, it seemed to have chained these people in loveless marriages and bitter lives.
She opened the door to the cottage to the sight of a cheery fire, the smell of a thick stew and fresh bread. Hirsh sighed with contentment. All that was missing at that moment was something that she could never have. However, she would not let that spoil her mood. She locked the door behind her and entered her bedroom to change from her uniform into simple trousers and a shirt. She inspected the uniform, relieved that it was spotless. Early this evening, she had helped the cook to move the pot with stew from the fire pit. Satisfied, she draped her uniform over a chair and made her way to the kitchen. She served herself from the stew and fresh bread and ate hungrily. Afterwards, she took a quick wash in the basin and crawled into bed. She had to be up by four tomorrow morning to open the house and begin her chores.
In the silence of the night and with no one around, she allowed herself to reminisce about the day.
And about her.
A woman so unattainable. Hirsh knew that whatever it was she felt for her would never come to anything. There were too many barriers between them, the biggest of them being that the woman in question wasn’t even aware of her presence. Not in the way she wished. Hirsh closed her eyes. She had tried for the past eighteen months to ignore her feelings for the woman, but they seem to grow stronger as the days passed. There was nothing she had to offer this woman. What did a thirty-five-year-old woman, who lived as a man, have to offer the richest woman in the district?
Nothing.
Maybe it was time for her to move on. Go see what was happening in the Americas. She punched the pillow a few times, assuaging her frustrations, and settled into sleep.
***
The garden was alive with sounds and smells. Crickets called out and frogs hummed a deep melody from the nearby fishpond. The aromatic scent of roses hung in the air, tying the nightly tableau together. Jane kicked off her shoes and burrowed her toes into the lawn. She did the same with her other foot and a tiny smile formed on her lips. This was the closest she came to freedom. She always waited until Richard had locked himself in his room and Hirsh, the manservant, had left, before she slipped out of her room. The window of Richard’s study looked out over the garden, and so she avoided the garden during the day. The thought of Richard watching her made her skin crawl. But at night, when everyone was gone, she loved the solitude the garden offered. The hem of her nightdress was getting wet, but she didn’t care. There were no rules in her midnight realm. Her smile grew wider as she ran, halting abruptly so she skidded over the slippery grass. She lost her footing and fell. The smile never left her face. She lay back and looked up at the sky. It was a black moon. The stars flickered merrily, making full use of their opportunity to shine in the moon's absence. She wished she were up there. She had been a moon once, a long time ago; when she was young and full of ideas of what her life would be like. Her smile dimmed. All she wanted now was to be free. She had her fill of love and marriage. She only wanted to be Ordinary Jane for now.
The wetness of the lawn was seeping into her nightdress, soaking her back. She rose and walked over to where her slippers lay. She didn’t want to stay out too late and rouse Richard’s suspicious. He would arrange for the doors to be locked. She entered the house and slipped up the stairs, avoiding the loose board.
Back in her bed, she sighed contently and it wasn’t long before sleep claimed her.
***
The cigar was strong, but fragrant. Richard took another puff and looked at the tobacconist.
“I’ll take a box.”
The man beamed. “Splendid choice, Corporal. That’ll be 8 shillings.”
Richard kept his face impassive as he acknowledged the price. It was steeper than he had thought. How was he going to explain the purchase to the executor of Jane’s investments? Peter Graves, the old goat, had been a sly one. He might be dead and his remains turned to dust, but he had made sure that his relations were well protected. He had instructed his solicitors to include a clause in the marriage contract of every one of his descendants to deter or expose gold-diggers. The clause stated that the solicitor would monitor the finances of the Graves’ descendants for the first five years of the marriage. Afterwards and only after the Graves’ descendant had expressed their satisfaction with the marriage, would the spouse assume control over the finances. Richard had not known about the clause beforehand and had been livid when notified about it after he had already asked for Jane’s hand in marriage. Had he withdrawn his proposal, he would’ve exposed himself as a gold-digger and would’ve harmed his career. He could still have access to the money, but his expenses were strictly monitored.
“Shall we wrap it for you, sir?”
“Yes, thank you.” He had wanted to stop by the tailor after this for a new jacket, but he had already depleted his monthly expenses of fifty pounds and the month still had two weeks left. He paid for the cigars and left quickly. He didn’t want to go home. It was depressing at home. Jane’s mopping was driving him up the walls. How could he have misjudged the woman so? The first time he had seen her was at a picnic hosted by the Henshaws. The petite blonde with the large green eyes had immediately caught his attention. She was gorgeous and lively. The group that had surrounded her had laughed and joked with her and she had been quick to counter their teasing. He had left that picnic completely smitten. The next time he saw her had been six months after the picnic. Jane had been different from their last meeting. She hadn’t laughed or smiled with him, but had sat quietly as her aunt had tried to engage him in conversation. He understood that she had lost both her parents in a freak carriage accident four months prior and he had tried not to pressure her. But, when after six months of marriage she still remained indifferent to him, he had lost his patience. As her husband, he had every right to her body, and he had exercised his right that very evening. Jane had not even tried to fight him off. She simply laid there, looking away from him as he claimed her virginity. His ego, dented by her rejection, had infuriated him and before he could stop himself, he had lashed out. It had taken a month for the injuries to heal. The incident had filled Richard with bitter guilt and shame. He had sworn the housekeeper to silence. Still, Jane had shown no emotion. Except for when he hit her. She would cry out and since it was the only emotion she would show him, he continued to do it.
And he had not suffered a bout of regret or shame since that first time.
A horse neighed near him and Richard realised he had crossed the street while lost in thought. He nodded at the carriage driver, who had stopped in time to allow him to cross. He would stop by the Kitty Club for a spell. Rumour had it that three new girls had joined the dance troupe. If he was lucky, Martin, his friend, would be there already. Richard hated drinking alone. The club was bustling with people, mostly men, who came to satisfy their curiosity about the recent additions. He spotted Corporal Martin Snow at the bar, chatting with two dancers. Richard consulted his pocket watch. Maybe he’d stay overnight. Jane had her books and the servants. She wouldn’t even miss him.
He walked over to join his friend. Martin looked up and waved.
“Ladies, let me introduce you to my best friend, Corporal Richard Egerton. Richard, this is Daisy and Victoria.”
Richard grinned and sidled up to the blonde. Martin took out a banknote and handed it to one lady. “Could you ladies get us something ‘special’ while I talk to my friend here?” Richard watched them as they left, his eyes fixed on the full hips of the blonde.
“If I had a wife like yours at home, I wouldn’t be scavenging around here,” Martin said over the rim of his glass. Richard pursed his lips. If only Martin knew what he had to do to attract his wife’s attention.
“You know what they say; every marriage needs a few secrets to keep it lively.”
Martin laughed. “You made that up, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. But it doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
Martin shrugged. “I still think you’re the luckiest man I know.”
Richard was beginning to lose interest in the idea of spending the night in town. Martin picked up on it, because he signalled the bartender and a glass of brandy appeared before him.
“No more talking about your wife.” They clinked glasses and Richard took a long sip. “Did you get your draft papers yet?”
“Draft papers? What are you talking about?” Before Martin could explain, the dancers returned and led them to a private room behind the bar. An opium pipe lay on a tray. Richard looked at Martin. When Martin had ordered something ‘special’, he had thought about absinth. Not this.
“Who’s going first?” Martin looked at Richard. “You look like you need to relax a little. Why don’t you do us the honours?” Martin held out the pipe to him. “Give it try. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again.”
Richard reached for the pipe.
***
Jane looked at the clock. Supper was about to be served and Richard was not home yet. She wasn’t going to wait for him. If he didn’t have the decency to send a note to notify her about his absence or delay, then he could eat alone. She glanced at Hirsh and was surprised to find him looking at her. He quickly averted his eyes. Jane shook off the discomfort. The servants were all aware of the state of her marriage and she had caught some of them looking at her with pity in their eyes. She hated when that happened. She may look like a victim, but she wasn’t one. Richard was the victim. A victim of his own darkness.
“You may serve supper.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She couldn’t help but notice that he moved fast and quiet for someone so big. He was back again and placed a plate with roasted potatoes, pheasant breast and green beans before her. She nodded her thanks. The food was excellent and she found that she was actually hungry. She was sure it had something to do with Richard’s absence. She ate heartily and drank two glasses of wine with her supper. When she was done, Hirsh took away her plate and brought her dessert. The trifle tasted great, and Jane finished the whole portion. She rose afterwards, thanking Hirsh. She planned on taking a book to her room and read until she dozed off. Jane managed a few steps before she had to clutch the nearest piece of furniture for support.
She hiccupped and giggled. The six-foot four-inch frame of Hirsh suddenly filled her vision, and she had to look all the way up to his face. Her mouth fell open slightly. Had the man always been this attractive? His short, dark brown hair looked clean and soft. But his face was most fascinating. Strong and striking. Concerned hazel eyes with golden flecks in them studied her closely. Was he married? No one who looked like that could still be unattached. How did she not notice that about him?
“Mrs Egerton, are you feeling unwell?”
She smiled. “I don’t think so. And you?”
For a moment, Hirsh looked stunned before he smiled and Jane blinked. Her manservant was exceptionally good-looking and for the past eighteen months, she hadn’t noticed it. Not that it would’ve made a difference. She has had her fill of men. She never really wanted one to begin with. Yet, Hirsh Miller suddenly captivated her.
“I’m doing fine, ma’am. Could I assist you to your room?”
“I’m not going to my room.”
“I could still assist you wherever you want to go.”
She looked at him. He really looked worried about her. That was a first. Men had looked at her with many expressions in their eyes, but concern wasn’t one of them. Not even when her parents had died. The looks of pity, calculating greed and lust had turned her stomach. But Hirsh, maybe because she paid his wages, had reason to care about her wellbeing. Since that was the case, she would let him. “The library. I need a good book.”
He nodded and held out his arm. Jane looked at it with disdain. She didn’t need a man to support her… in any way. Her cool stare made him step back. Jane made her way to the library slowly, while Hirsh hovered near. She had almost toppled over a few times, but Hirsh was close enough to steady her with a hand that disappeared just as quickly. In the library, she consulted the catalogue she had painstakingly put together herself. She frowned at the romance section. Nothing with romance for her. Maybe an adventure. She felt adventurous tonight. She scanned the list of books and looked up. Again, she caught the man looking at her. This time he didn’t avert his eyes.
“Which one should I get you, ma’am?”
Jane pursed her lips, considering her choice for a moment. Yes, that’s the one! “The Female Quixote by Charlotte Lennox.”
He bowed and walked over to the floor to ceiling bookshelves. Jane watched him as he scanned the titles. She didn’t know much about Hirsh. Hadn’t even known that he could read. He was somehow related to their cook, Lizzy Peabody. A cousin’s boy, Lizzy had stated. The two looked nothing like each other. But Jane had seen them interact and had witnessed the deep affection between the two. With Richard in the house, she had learned to move about quietly, and it was on one of those quiet excursions that she caught Hirsh helping the aging cook in the kitchen; peeling potatoes, soaking dishes and dishing up. The man seemed unfazed that he was engaging in what was considered as women’s work. He was as comfortable in the kitchen as he was tending to the garden or fixing the carriage. It seemed there was more to the man than met the eye.
“Your book, ma’am.”
Jane realised she had been staring at him, but she refused to feel apologetic at having been caught. She took the book from him with a quiet ‘thank you’ and together they began the arduous journey up the stairs to her room. She kept her eye on the creaking floorboard as she walked towards her room with Hirsh trailing closely behind. As she sidestepped it, she waited to hear it creak under the weight of the servant. When she reached her door and the board had not creaked, she smiled to herself. Observant fellow!
“Thank you, Hirsh. I’ll be fine from here.”
He bowed. “Ma’am.” He walked back the way they had come, dodging the board yet again.
***
Hirsh quickly cleared the table, her heart beating painfully in her chest. It was rare that she got this close to the blonde and every time it happened; it left her emotionally wobbly. She found her aunt in the kitchen, busy storing the leftovers from supper. She stopped when she saw Hirsh.
“You look strange. What happened?”
Hirsh placed a kiss on the woman’s wrinkly cheek. “Just hungry. I skipped lunch again.”
A heavy frown came over the woman’s face. “You need to take better care of yourself, my child. I know you’re big and strong, but you’re still not fully recovered from…”
“I know, Aunt Lizzy. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“You better. Now let me soak these dishes while you lock up the house. It doesn’t look like Mr Egerton will be returning tonight.” She pushed Hirsh out of the kitchen. With a heavy heart, Hirsh looked up at the stairs. She didn’t like to go up there. Not at night. She hated the noises that came from Jane’s room when her husband was home. The sounds of a woman being raped and beaten were unmistakable. She had temporarily left that part of her life behind for the quietude of the countryside. Only it had followed her here.
“Hurry up, Hirsh.”
She glanced in the kitchen's direction and found her aunt shooing her on. She sighed as she climbed the stairs. Mr Egerton wasn’t here, so she’d make it quick. Close the windows and the drapes upstairs. Bank the fire in Mr Egerton’s room. That should not take her long, and then she could go home and relive the odd evening spent in the company of the woman she desired with every fibre of her being. She was leaving Mr Egerton’s room when she heard the soft thud. She froze. But only for a moment, before she rushed to Jane’s room. She listened for a moment and then knocked softly.
“Mrs Egerton? Are you all right in there, ma’am?”
There was a brief silence, and then she heard footsteps come to the door. The door opened to reveal the woman in her nightclothes. Hirsh swallowed nervously. The blonde hair was loose and cascaded down the slender shoulders. Hirsh fought hard not to see how far exactly it reached down her back. With the glow of the fire behind her, a soft halo surrounded Jane’s head, which made her look like an angel.
“I was trying to bank the fire.” The green eyes were wide and a little bleary from the wine.
“I’d be happy to do that for you, ma’am.” She noticed the blonde hesitate before she stepped back and allowed Hirsh to enter. Keeping her eyes focussed on the fireplace, Hirsh ignored the fact that room smelled fantastic. Crushed rose petals and all woman. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Jane had followed her and was standing to the side. Hirsh quickly and expertly tended to the fire to heat the room. She stood and walked to the door. “Goodnight, ma’am.”
“Goodnight, Hirsh.”
She was breathless when she reached the downstairs. She completed a quick walkthrough of the ground floor before she moved to the kitchen. Lucky for her, Aunt Lizzy had already left and a small package with bread and cold meats waited on the table for her to take with for her supper. She wasn’t in the mood to lie to her aunt any more than she already had. She locked the kitchen door behind her and followed the winding garden trail to her cottage. After a quick supper of a cold pheasant breast and cheese sandwich, she dragged the large barrel bath in front of the fireplace and filled it from the enormous cauldron of water she had left warming over the fading coals earlier. She threw a few logs on the coals and tended to it until a cheery fire burned in the fireplace. After she had undressed, she sank into the warm water and laid back with a sigh as she closed her eyes.
The image of Mrs Jane Egerton swam into focus.
***
Richard felt like crying. Why couldn’t he have this with Jane? The woman under him responded easily to his touch and his kisses. Why did Jane have to make him hurt her? Why couldn’t she allow herself to love him? To want him? The unexpected pain of a scratch to his face jarred him from his musings. He was shocked to find his hands clamped around the blonde’s throat. Her eyes were bulging and her lips had turned a sickly blue. She was clawing at his hands. Horrified, Richard quickly loosened his grip and rolled off from her.
“I’m… I… I’m sorry.” He reached for the sheet to cover his nakedness, but the girl didn’t seem to be bothered by hers. She made a dash for the door before he could say anything else. Richard looked at his hands. They were trembling. What had he done? This was a side of him he couldn’t afford to become public knowledge. To the world, he was a successful career soldier with a beautiful and loving wife at home. He didn’t frequent whorehouses nor did he brutalise prostitutes. He would be in big trouble if…
“What the hell, Richard!” Martin was half-dressed and his hair was mussed as he burst into the room. He closed the door behind him as he stepped further into the room. “Do you have any idea what this looks like?”
Richard closed his eyes, wishing he had time to get dressed. He already felt vulnerable as it was. “I don’t know what happened, Martin. Really, I just…”
“If this were to go public, you could be in a lot of trouble.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “People will start making assumptions.” His eyes were dark with concern. “They’ll scrutinise your life; your marriage.” He said the last with a slight edge in his voice. Richard was frozen with horror where he sat on the bed. If people cared to look closer at his marriage, they would not like what they found. He needed to assure Martin before his friend got it in his head to take a closer look himself.
“You need not worry about that. It was just an accident.”
Martin didn’t look totally convinced, but he nodded. “Good, because this is the kind of thing that can get you kicked out of the military.”
Icy dread settled in his chest as he stared at Martin. “I can’t… That can’t happen. I…”
“Then you need to make it right with Victoria. I told her you would find her once I’d spoken to you.” Martin walked over to the chair where Richard’s clothes sat, neatly folded, and threw them on the bed. “Get dressed. You need to get to Victoria before she decides to talk to anyone else. It told her to wait at the bar and talk to no one. Not even Daisy.”
Richard dressed in record time, unaware of the troubled look Martin directed at him as they left the room.
***
Hirsh sat up, wondering what had woken her. She got out of bed and walked over to the window. She peered into the darkness towards the main house. She was just about to leave, when she saw the shadow moving from the stables to the house. She glanced at the clock on a nearby cabinet. It was two in the morning. Who would skulk around at this hour? She dressed quickly and left her cottage. Just as she reached the backdoor leading to the kitchen, she saw a light going on in one of the upstairs bedrooms. She frowned. That was Jane’s room. She was still looking up at the window when she heard the sounds. There was no mistaking what was happening in the room. Soft, muffled cries followed the sound of a fist hitting flesh. Her eyes hardened when she heard cloth tearing and a soft protest.
More punches followed.
The protest stopped.
The creaking sound of bedsprings were loud in the silence of the early morning. Hirsh stood under the window, waiting and listening. She waited until the end; until the bedsprings quieted. Then she waited until the soft sobs ended. The clock read four when she returned to her cottage. She stirred the coals and started a new fire. All the while, deliberately keeping her thoughts blank. For if she had to think of what her beloved had endured tonight, she would enter the house, as stealthily as she was trained to do, and slit Richard Egerton’s throat from ear to ear. Instead, she made herself a strong, sweet tea and sat by the fire. It would be useless to go back to bed when she had to be up in less than an hour.
An hour and a half later, she was making her way up the stairs to open the windows on the first floor. It was as quiet as a tomb. Mr Egerton was sleeping off the part of the night that had kept him from home for most of the evening. The lady of the house would not be seen for the rest of the day. It was a common occurrence at Midhill Manor that Jane was indisposed after a late-night visit from her husband. Hirsh gritted her teeth as she completed her tasks. She carefully sidestepped the loose board in front of Jane’s room, but froze when the door creaked open behind her.
“I… I need your help.”
Hirsh turned on her heel. “Tell me what you need, ma’am.” The door opened wider and Hirsh wanted to cry at the sight. Both the blonde’s eyes were swollen shut, her face puffy and discoloured. She also noticed that the blonde’s nightdress was inside out. She must’ve dressed hurriedly after her ordeal. Knowing that the woman couldn’t see her, Hirsh gently touched her hand.
“I’m thirsty, but I…” The blonde lowered her head.
“I’ll help you, ma’am. Would it be acceptable if I come into the room with you?”
“Yes.” She stepped aside and almost tripped over her feet. Hirsh reached out to steady her and led her to the bed. She had been in the room so many times, but today, she felt that she couldn’t stand it. It felt cold and unfriendly as opposed to its usual warm, sweet-smelling interior. She filled a glass with water and brought it back to the bed and gently touched the rim of the glass to the blonde’s lips. She ground her teeth when the other woman drank thirstily from the glass. Jane was parched and not knowing how to get to the carafe of water, had suffered alone and in silence. She quickly looked away from the broken woman before her. “Thank you, Hirsh.”
She smiled tenderly. “No thanks needed, ma’am. Let me get a fire going while I’m here. Afterwards, I could send Mrs Peabody up to assist you, if you like.” She took the delicate hand in hers and led her to the other side of the bed. “Will you allow me to help you back into bed, ma’am? It will take a while before the room warms up.”
She started the fire, all too aware of the woman lying quietly in the enormous bed. When she left later, the blonde had fallen asleep. She looked peaceful, or at least a little more comfortable. If only she could do more for her beloved.
***
The tea wasn’t strong enough; the eggs too hard and the room too cold. Richard knew that it was his guilt that made him scream and rant like that. He was uncharacteristically ashamed of his behaviour this morning, but the frustration he had felt had needed an outlet. After his talk with Martin, he had gone to the bar to speak to Victoria. When he got there, the bar had closed and the blonde nowhere to be found. He had anxiously searched the surrounding taverns and inns for her. When he came up empty-handed, he decided to go home. The quiet tranquillity of the house at that hour had irritated him further, and he ended up in Jane’s bedroom. She had been sleeping so peacefully; the book she had been reading was resting on her chest. She awakened when he lit the lantern. First, there was confusion, then fear and finally, contempt.
The manservant entered and placed a fresh pot of tea before him. He returned soon after with a boiled egg. The large man didn’t look at Richard as he served him. Richard was getting used to the servants being distant and cool with him after every episode. It made him wonder sometimes if they would try to poison him for hurting their mistress. He gave the egg and the teapot a wary look. After his tirade this morning, maybe it would not be such a good idea to hang around. He could ride into town and see if he could track down Victoria.
***
Hirsh watched from the garden as Egerton rode past her and down the path that led to Coventry. Her grip on the handles of the shears was so tight she could feel it digging into her skin. In her previous life, a pig like Richard Egerton would find himself in a ditch somewhere, bleeding heavily from a gaping hole where his genitals used to be. She swallowed a few times to suppress the rage that boiled to the surface. As long as he wasn’t on the estate, Jane was safe. Now, if only he could have an accident on the road. Like being thrown from his horse and landing on his neck.
She reached for the tankard of iced water next to her and took a long drink. One day, that man would push her to do something terrible to him. But until that day came, she was going to stick to the promise she had made herself many years ago. She wouldn’t kill unless it was to protect her and her own. Unfortunately, no matter how much she willed it, Jane Egerton was not hers. Nor would she ever be while that vile creature still breathed.
“That is a thunderous expression, if ever I’ve seen one, child.”
Hirsh turned to find her mother’s cousin standing behind her. Aunt Lizzy was eager to take Hirsh in when she needed a place to recuperate from her unexpected brush with the Royal Navy off the coast of Spain eighteen months ago. She had needed somewhere to heal while she waited for the search to lose momentum.
Imagine her surprise when she arrived on the Estate and found that the newly wedded master of the manor was an army officer. It brought her immense pleasure to be hiding right under their noses with them, utterly clueless of her true identity. But the time to leave was almost upon her. She might not kill Richard, but there was no way she was leaving Jane with him, unprotected. If Jane wouldn’t come with her, then the only other option was to make sure that Richard Egerton left the Graves Estate.
“He’s not worth whatever fate you have planned for him in your head, my child,” Lizzy said and placed her hand on Hirsh’s shoulder. “It is almost time for you to leave. Don’t burn this bridge unless you won’t be returning here again.”
Hirsh nodded. Aunt Lizzy was right. As long as Jane was here, Hirsh doubted she could ever stay away. Anyway, there were a hundred ways to make sure a man like Richard Egerton didn’t come back here ever again.
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