“Wouldn’t the late viscount be proud of us?” Percival had continued, spearing another hunk of roast meat. Chewing with his mouth open he said, “Mm... This is quite good. I’m glad we kept the cook, Grom.” He’d grinned at the burly man who stood beside Percival’s chair.
“Yes, your lordship,” Grom had replied in a guttural monotone.
Selena blinked back tears and the back of her neck prickled, as she continued to sponge her mother’s feverish forehead. Ruminating on that horrible night, she realized hermother had not mentioned the inheritance Selena would gain on her twenty-first birthday. It was the reason for the stipulation in the betrothal that the wedding take place sometime after Selena came of age. Her parents had wanted her to be financially secure in her own right. Both her father and her mother had spoken of it to her. The inheritance had been passed down from her maternal grandmother and included a manor home in Sussex, a townhouse in London, and her Grand-mère’s family jewels—which her grandparents had secreted from France with their escape, and which her parents had placed with their solicitor for safekeeping, as well as substantial funds that had been invested when the family relocated to England. Selena had no idea of the total value, but until now, had never given it any thought. Her family had frequently used the townhouse when they traveled to London, as well as her mother’s family manor house in Sussex, preferring that at times to going home to Nottingham.
Oh, Maman, what are we to do?
Her mother, who had never been sick a day in her life, had started becoming weaker and weaker. Yesterday afternoon, Selena had taken her a cup of tea and discovered that her mother, who’d gone upstairs to take a nap, was limp and her breathing shallow.
Selena had immediately alerted Maggie. But Grom had intercepted the cook on her way out the door to fetch the doctor. He ordered her back into the kitchen to prepare the viscount’s favorite meal. Maggie had done as much as she could to help Selena’s mother, but nothing seemed to be working.
Her mother was dying, and Selena was certain Percival had poisoned her.
“Selena…you must save yourself, my darling,” her mother whispered again. “Go to the Earl of Bellecote. Tell him everything. He will keep you safe and do the right thing by you.”
A sound at the door made her turn in surprise, her hands wiping the tears on her cheeks. Percival and Grom sauntered into the room.
“Please fetch the doctor. My mother is gravely ill and needs assistance,” she pleaded.
The two men looked at each other and laughed.
“Get out of my parent’s bedchamber. Get out!” she screamed. “You poisoned my mother. I know you did!”
Vern had grabbed her by the arms and hauled her up from the chair like a rag doll, smashing her in the face with his meaty fist.
She awoke in confusion, the right side of her face throbbing in pain and realized she was lying on her bed in her own chamber.
“Cochons!”she exclaimed then winced at the pain. She’d always resorted to French expletives to express her anger, much to the consternation of her mother and the amusement of her late father.
Somehow, she got up and ran to the door, her knees almost buckling from lightheadedness. How long had it been since she’d seen her mother? She reached for the doorknob and found it was locked. Furious, she pounded on the door. “Let me out! I must see my mother!”
She pounded and screamed until her hands were numb and her voice was hoarse.
Finally, footsteps approached, and a key scratched in the lock.
She stepped back as the door creaked open.
Percival walked in and announced, “Your mother is dead. Tragically, she succumbed to her fever.”
Selena gasped, her hands covering her mouth. Fresh tears blurred her vision. “No! It’s not true. Please, take me to her now.”
“I’m afraid that is not possible. It would be dangerous for you to be near the body. After all we wouldn’t want you to catch what she had. The funeral will be held tomorrow. The cook and her husband are preparing the body for burial.
“Please, I need to see my mother.”
He ignored her plea and said, “Know this. I am your guardian now, and you will obey me.” He started to leave but turned around. “Pack a valise and be ready to depart right after your mother’s funeral tomorrow. We will be traveling to Gretna Green. For our wedding.” He gave her a leering grin as he dragged her against him, holding her arms above her head in a vise-like grip against the wall and bruising her mouth in a slobbering kiss.
Foul, whisky breath nearly suffocated her, and she barely kept herself from retching. If she was going to get out of this, she needed her wits about her. She could not draw his ire. Not with Grom standing in the doorway, ready to pounce.
“I can’t wait for our honeymoon, my dear,” he laughed, grinding himself against her as his hand grabbed her breast and squeezed painfully. “And please do your best to fight me in bed. It will be much more enjoyable,” he whispered, sinking his teeth into her earlobe.
Selena clenched her jaw at the pain. She was mortified but she refused to make a sound. Not from his lecherous assault, and not from his announcement.
He stepped back and looked at her through narrowed eyes. “I see you are learning. It’s wise to follow my orders. You will see it’s for the best,” he said, adjusting his cuffs before leaving the room. A moment later, she heard the key turn in the lock.
She collapsed on her bed and broke into sobs.
Her beautiful, kind-hearted mother was gone.Maman! What am I going to do without you?No chance to say goodbye. That devil had murdered her mother as indisputably as if he’d held a gun to her head. Selena was certain of it.
