“You intend to abduct me!?” Margaret spat. She tried her best to rise from the chair, but she only succeeded in nearly tipping it over. Forced back down again by her ties, she glowered up at Catherine.
“Not abduct you.” Catherine laughed, as if the idea were truly a mad one. “Toprotectyou.” She stepped toward Margaret. “Once we’re in Scotland, you’ll be safe from him. He’s unlikely to find you there. I’ve found a place where we can go. Were you will be safe.”
“Scotland!?” Margaret spluttered. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Least of all Scotland! I am going home.”
She looked around at the chains fastened to the wine cellar wall, realizing that she couldn’t be far away from home if this was the place where Catherine had kept her son locked up for hours at a time when he was a boy.
“How often did you hurt him?” The words spilled out of Margaret suddenly.
“As often as was necessary.” Catherine’s answer made Margaret quake in fear, but not for her. For Theo.
No wonder he is the strong and steely man he is now. He taught himself to be that man, to pretend nothing could hurt him again.
“It’s time now. Yes, it’s time. We can’t afford to dally any longer. Now you are awake, we must take advantage of the moment and speed away.” Catherine moved to the doorway, returning a second later with a pelisse in her hand.
It was excessively fine, too beautiful in fact. Catherine didn’t even seem to notice that it would be too thin to keep out the snow and the cold as she thrust it toward Margaret.
Silently, Margaret nodded at her hands.
“If I untie you…” Catherine began slowly. “You will not fight me on this, will you? You will come away. As you must.”
“On one condition.” Margaret met her eye. “I will come, and I will not fight, if you tell me one more thing.”
“What?” Catherine urged in a hurry. Clearly, now she had made up her mind that they needed to go, she was determined they should leave at once.
“Why did you hate Theodore’s father so much?”
Catherine blinked. Plainly, she had not expected such a question.
“To marry a bully is to marry the devil himself.” She shook, her hand clutching the outstretched pelisse now trembling madly. “He never hid his character from me. Not once. The marriage was arranged, thrust upon me, against my wishes. As but a woman, what choice did I have?”
Sympathy stretched in Margaret.
Before her stood a woman who had been forced into a life she did not want.
Then she remembered the feeling of the blood running down her wrists, and the aching pain in the base of her skull. Perhaps Catherine had been someone she could understand… once. Yet not anymore.
“What happened to him?” Margaret whispered. “What became of Theodore’s father?”
“He died.”
“I know, but when? How?” Margaret asked. “Theodore has never spoken of it. No one has –”
“Enough!” Catherine abruptly shrieked. All semblance of humanity escaped her face. She looked more creature than human at all. “We are not to talk of him anymore. It’s time to leave. Yes, you will come now.”
Margaret wriggled in her chair once again.
“You’ll have to untie me, Catherine.”
Slowly, Catherine took a step toward her. Any trust she might have felt in Margaret coming quietly, however, must have bled away when she saw Margaret’s expression.
“You’ll fight me on this… won’t you?” Catherine asked in a tiny voice.
“I will not run from a man.”
“From a demon!”
“I only see one demon in your family. It’s not Theodore,” Margaret spat under her breath.
