She obeyed, but he was trying to pretend this was a new development
and she wouldn’t allow that, no matter what it cost her. “It’s all
right, Father,” she said pertly, “You taught me the rules while you
were trying to beat me into marrying your friend Henry Vernham. I
haven’t forgotten.”
She walked forward and held out her hand, cursing the fact that it
trembled. It hadn’t shaken the first time. She hadn’t known then how
much it would hurt.
The cane slashed down and fire leaped across her palm. She clutched it to her chest, fighting tears.
“Let us hope there will be no more impudence,” said the earl. “You
are never to question my righteousness as a parent. Never. Now, you
will tell me where Verity is.”
“I don’t know.”
She saw him register her honesty, but he was a shrewd man. He put
the knob of the cane under her chin to force her eyes to meet his. “You
will tell me then where you saw her last.”
She hesitated and knew it. “At Easter at Walgrave Towers.”
The earl turned to his son. “She’s lying.”
“Yes,” said Fort. “For God’s sake, Chastity, why are you doing this?
Verity could be in terrible danger, and her child even more so. Tell
us, so we can protect her.”
Chastity gave up the pretense. “Only if Father promises to let her marry Nathaniel.”
“What nonsense,” the earl said. “There is no question of any marriage until her year of mourning is up.”
She forced herself to look unflinchingly into his eyes. “Promise that you will permit it then.”
Red touched his cheeks, a flare of warning. “I will promise
nothing
.
Do you seek to bargain with me, you impudent hussy? You will tell me
your sister’s whereabouts simply out of filial obedience, and trust me
to arrange her welfare.”
“As when you married her to Vernham?” she sneered.
“Extend your right hand.”
Chastity’s lips trembled as she obeyed. The cane slashed down on the previous welt, and a cry escaped her.
The earl fell silent. Chastity waited. Clutching her burning hand,
tears running down her cheeks. She knew it could only get worse. This
was nothing, but it didn’t feel like nothing. How long could she hold
out before telling all? How much of a start did Cyn and Nathaniel need?
She glanced at Fort, wondering if he would help her, but she had lost
him again when he realized she did know Verity’s whereabouts.
Why, she wondered, was her father so desperate to find Verity?
Simply from the need to control? It was possible, and yet her instinct
said no. This desperate search had the same strangeness as Verity’s
marriage to Sir William, and Chastity’s proposed one to Henry Vernham.
Something underlay all of it.
Unlikely as it seemed, Vernham must have had a hold over the Earl of Walgrave.
What? What?
Fort came over and took her stinging hand in a gentle hold. He moved
her a little way from their father, which was a good sign. “Hurts like
the devil, doesn’t it? Do you mean he did this to try to force you to
marry Vernham?”
“And other things…” Chastity looked over to where the earl was
talking quietly with Lindle. That boded no good. “Fort,” she said
quietly, “there’s something wrong about this, something that doesn’t
make sense.”
“Perhaps,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t affect the fact that we have to find Verity.”
“She’s safe,” she assured him. “Honestly. Staying with a very pleasant and proper family.”
Lindle left the room, and Walgrave came over to Chastity and Fort.
“Has she told you?” he asked. “Often a little kindness after harshness
works wonders.”
“She says Verity is safe with a proper family.”
Chastity flicked Fort a glance, but knew that this maneuver hadn’t been planned, at least on his part.
“Indeed,” said the earl. “That relieves my paternal anxiety
considerably. It will only be assuaged, however, when I am able to
clasp my eldest daughter and my only grandchild to my heart. The
direction, please.”
Chastity shook her head.
“And why are you intent on keeping Verity from me?”
Chastity knew it was impossible to answer that question without
offending his righteousness as a parent. Though it took more courage
than she knew she possessed, she extended her poor, abused hand.
The earl raised his cane, but only to put it under her trembling
hand, rubbing gently against the knuckles. “You, I fear, are possessed
of a devil, and it will take more time than we have here to drive it
from you. Fear not, I will attend to it in time.” He let that promise
sink home. “But my sweet Verity? What has caused her to so distrust her
father? Eh?”
Chastity was keyed up for pain, would almost welcome it to have it over with.
“Well?” asked the earl. “Tell me how you turned Verity against me.”
“She needed no turning,” said Chastity. “She did not flee to
Walgrave Towers, but to the cottage. She had no desire to seek your
help.”
Still the blow did not come. She knew this trick too. This waiting, which was almost worse than the pain.
The earl had explained it to her once during those terrible days.
When he’d given in to rage and beaten her severely, the effect had been
strange. It had fed her numb strength and he knew it.
“Brutality drives some people beyond reach,” he had said. “It also
leaves evidence that can be inconvenient. On the other hand, quite
small amounts of pain can break a strong man if properly applied.”
Now the earl put the cane softly on her palm and rubbed with it. She
gritted her teeth against the sting. “And why did Verity have no desire
to seek my help?”
Verity had cut herself off from her father because of his treatment
of Chastity, and only secondarily because he would oppose her marriage
to Nathaniel. Chastity could tell him this, but an intensity in the
earl’s manner caught her. What made this question so important? Would
he say something revealing?
He tapped the cane on her hand, demanding an answer.
At the third tap, Chastity’s nerve broke. “Because of how you treated me.”
He studied her searchingly, then used the cane to push her hand down
and walked away. Chastity’s knees almost gave way, but she remained
standing, knowing it wasn’t over.
There were no sounds from outside this isolated house, and it felt
as if everyone in the room held their breath. Chastity began to count.
She had found it the only way to avoid being driven to desperation by
her father’s calculated use of silence.
She had reached sixty-five when the earl turned. “A petty reason for
risking her life and that of her child. Very unlike Verity. I fear you
must have spun her a tissue of lies. Ah, well, it will become clear
when we find her.” The door opened. “And here is Lindle with some more
appropriate clothing. We will leave you to change, daughter, and resume
our conversation when you have a more fitting appearance.”
Chastity was beyond reasoning what Fort made of this, but she noted
his reluctance to leave her. He was firmly shepherded out. The key
turned in the lock and she was alone. She collapsed to sit on the floor
and blow on her stinging hand.
The punishment had been nothing. It hadn’t even been an attempt to
force the truth out of her but, as he said, a reaction to her lack of
filial respect. But it had also been a way of priming her for what was
to come, of reminding her how it had been the last time, when her palms
had blistered, and Lindle had held her hands up because she could no
longer force herself to do it. When her back, and buttocks, and legs
had been a mass of weals.
And this time it would be worse. It would be worse because he was
more ruthless, and more desperate. This time he wouldn’t care if he
scarred her, or did her permanent harm. She didn’t know why he was so
desperate, but she could sense it. And he would soon be back.
Chastity pushed herself to her feet. This was what her father
wanted. He wanted her to be alone in the fading light, growing more
fearful by the moment. She needed to do something. She might as well
change her clothes. She had no objection to being female again.
As she began to undress she wondered where Cyn was now. For a
traitorous moment she prayed that he was nearby, planning her rescue.
Then she thrust that thought away. She had to want him to be on his way
to Winchester and Verity. She’d told him, if she should be caught, to
cut free and get Verity to a new place.
She stripped naked and hurried into the women’s clothing—silky
chemise, taffeta petticoat, and sleeved bodice. It surprised her that
the garments were of such fine quality, but she supposed even Lindle
had not been able to find any pauper’s clothes at short notice. Heaven
knows where he’d found these, for the colors were clearly not intended
to go together. The chemise was pink, the petticoat coquelicot scarlet,
the bodice green and yellow stripes.
She had to struggle with the hooks at the front of the bodice. Not
only was it too small, but it was indecently low. No matter how she
tried to adjust it, it barely skimmed her nipples, and at the slightest
movement they popped free, leaving only the pink chemise to cover them,
and that was so fine as to be transparent.
She stuffed them back in and looked down at herself in horror. The
colors were tasteless, the bodice indecent, and the petticoat stopped
inches above her ankles. This was not by accident. Her father was
dressing her like a whore.
She wanted to change back into her male garments, but that would
only result in her being stripped by the odious Lindle. She had no
doubt that her father and his toady would not return until they had
found a way to get rid of Fort.
How strange that her brother, whom she had thought of as the enemy, had now become her bastion.
As no footwear had been provided, she put on her male stockings and
boots. They looked ridiculous, but were warm and more decent. Also, for
warmth and decency, she draped her coat about her shoulders. Something
pricked her fingers.
Rothgar’s pin! Lud, another piece of evidence against her, and it
would not fit in the crack behind the mantel. After a moment she fixed
it to the inside of her petticoats. It should go undetected there even
if they stripped her. If they found it, she could claim it came with
the garments. They were not long off another body. She could smell that.
There was still no sound of approach.
Don’t stand here waiting and worrying, she told herself. Do
something. She walked the room thinking about everything that had
happened.
Months ago, when Fort had berated her for her behavior, she had seen
him as one of the conspiracy bent on her ruin, but now she saw that he
too was her father’s victim, though he did not know it. Could she open
his eyes?
He’d had reason to believe her unchaste, and now she’d confirmed it,
which didn’t help her cause. He doubtless wouldn’t protest if she were
whipped. But she didn’t think he’d stand by for Walgrave’s calculated
cruelty. The trouble was that the earl would find a way to get rid of
him before starting on that tack.
Chastity kept track of time only by the chiming of the distant clock
and the fading of the light. Four times she tensed when footsteps came
to the door, but no one entered. It was just part of the torment. She
tried not to let it weaken her.
Then the key turned. She faced the door, summoning her strength. It
turned back. Another trick. She cried then, but forced herself to stop
before anyone heard. She applied her mind to seeking solutions instead
of straining for footsteps.
Her father could be pushed into losing control. Perhaps he would
reveal something in that state, but Chastity shuddered at what he might
do to her at the same time. She prayed that Fort refuse to be sent
away, but knew it was futile. Fort didn’t realize yet that the earl was
the enemy.
It was full dark and the clock had just struck eight when the key
turned again. This time the door opened. Her father entered, followed
by Lindle bearing a candlestand which he placed in a corner. Fort was
not with them. Chastity braced herself.
“Your brother has gone to check on Major Frazer,” said the earl
blandly. “He will be back in a little while.” He looked her over. “That
jacket hardly matches the outfit. Take it off.”
It was pointless to fight these minor skirmishes, and so Chastity obeyed.
The earl nodded. “You may keep the boots. I wouldn’t want you to
catch a chill.” His eyes traveled over her, every touch making her feel
unclean. “A most becoming outfit for you, my dear. Lindle, you are to
be congratulated.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“You may now take away those improper clothes, Lindle. and dispose of them.”
Chastity watched in despair as the male garments were removed from
the room. She tried again to adjust the striped bodice, then forced
herself to stop. Such actions would only give her father satisfaction.
The earl watched her coolly. “You know me by now. daughter. I am not to be denied.”‘
“And yet I did deny you.”
His eyes narrowed, betraying that her words had hit home. “So, do you think you won?”
“No. But neither did you.”
He raised his cane and she flinched, but he only touched her head.
“Your hair is almost becoming bearable, isn’t it? I fear it will have
to go before we part.”
Chastity closed her eyes and forced herself not to beg. She couldn’t
help remembering what it had been like when it was just a dark stubble,
how ugly it had been.
“But you mustn’t think too badly of me, my dear,” purred the earl, which terrified Chastity. “See?”
She opened her eyes. Lindle had returned with a wig, a charming
honey-brown wig. It was very like her natural color. She looked sharply
at her father.
“Indeed. It is made from your own hair.” The earl hooked it onto the
gold knob of his cane and presented it to her. “Tell me where Verity is
and you may have it. Come, try it. Lindle, a mirror.”