The Bride Sale by Candice Hern

Hall?”
    â€œAye,” Gonetta said, placing Verity’s ivory brush and comb on the washstand. “Did ’ee ever see so many awful old weapons an’ such? I do call it the Killin’ Hall cuz I figure them things done their fair share o’ killin’ over the years.”
    â€œIndeed,” Verity said, “but not lately, one hopes.”
    â€œOh no, ma’am,” Gonetta said emphatically. “Mrs. Tregelly, she do keep us polishin’ ’em to such a shine. Like as not she do be the first to murder anyone what do touch ’em.”
    â€œThat is certainly reassuring,” Verity murmured. “But how does one get out to the south side,” she continued, “where the gardens are? I tend to rise early and may want to take a walk around the place, explore a bit.”
    â€œOh, ’ee do just go downstairs like when ’ee do first come,” Gonetta said, “only don’t be goin’ toward the Killin’ Hall. Go left from the stairs past the lib’ary and out the south entrance.”
    â€œAnd can I get to the river from the gardens?”
    â€œOh, aye. The grounds skirt the river. ’Ee can’t miss it. ’Tis a pretty sight in the early hours, ’tis.”
    â€œWill I be any trouble if I wander very early?” Verity asked. “Will the entrances be locked?”
    Gonetta stopped folding a chemise and looked up. “Locked? Lord bless me, nuthin’ do be ever locked at Pendurgan. Who be gonna break inta this sturdy old place, perched way up here all by itself? Ha! Don’t ’ee worry ’bout nuthin’, ma’am. We be safe as milk up here. Just ’ee wander about all ’ee wants.”
    Verity savored the tiny burst of newborn confidence. Though Gonetta made it sound not at all difficult, it would surely be the hardest move Verity had ever made—striking out on her own, friendless, with little more than pin money and a few trumpery pieces of jewelry to sustain her.
    But she would be away from this place. Away from him.
    She could do it.
    â€œWhat would ’ee be wearin’ for dinner, ma’am? Shall I be havin’ somethin’ pressed for ’ee?”
    Dinner? Good Lord. The momentary rush of elation collapsed like a house of cards. She had been tricked by the early darkness into forgetting that she had an entire evening ahead of her before she could effect an escape. An entire evening she was no doubt meant to spend in the company of Lord Harkness and perhaps the woman in black.
    No. Not now, just when she had screwed up what little courage she had to do this. She might lose her nerve if she had to face that man again.
    â€œOh, Gonetta,” she said, not even having to feign a tone of distress, “would you see if I might have a tray in my room? I really am quite fagged to death and do not believe I am up to dressing for dinner.”
    â€œYes, ma’am. I’ll be bringin’ a tray up m’self, an’ a nice pot o’ tea to soothe yer bones. Then we be tuckin’ ’ee up all right and tight so’s ’ee do be getting’ a nice long rest. If ’ee do need anythin’ whilst I do be gone, ’ee just do pull that there cord by the bed and I do be up in two shakes.”
    As soon as the door closed behind the girl, Verity slumped against the bedpost with relief. She wouldnot have to see him again. She would not have to face those menacing brows and piercing blue eyes. The man called Heartless would not be able to frighten her out of doing what had to be done.
    She began to rummage through her clothes, deciding what she would carry with her on her escape.

Chapter 3
    J ames sat with his back to the smoldering fire and read the same paragraph for the third time. It was no use. He could not concentrate on the essay. He let the book fall open on his lap and closed his eyes. But he would not sleep yet. He fought it, as ever, unwilling to