The Dark One by Ronda Thompson

fact, it had only been a thought that had escaped Rosalind’s lips. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when your head is turned the other direction. Won’t be long until he’ll be creeping in here during the night and climbing into your bed.”
    â€œLydia!” Rosalind was shocked. “You mustn’t say such things.” The maid mostly shouldn’t say such things because Rosalind didn’t want to face the possibility that Franklin might lust after her. It was bad enough that he abused her. She’d allowed the maid too many liberties or Lydia would never have been brave enough to say as much to Rosalind. But the young woman was the only friend Rosalind had made, or was likely to make since Franklin had tricked her into traveling to London with him—since he’d trapped her in this house. Rosalind valued their friendship, even if the rest of society would frown upon such an affiliation.
    Undaunted by the warning, Lydia shrugged. “Do you think I don’t know about the master’s appetites?” The maid visibly shuddered. “Takes what he wants, that one. Last time he ordered me to his bed, thought he’d kill me with his rough ways. Bled for a week, I did.”
    Rosalind supposed her mouth dropped open. Her life in the country had been fairly sheltered. She’d certainlyheard her share of vulgar talk exchanged between the maids, but nothing like what Lydia had just insinuated.
    â€œLydia, are you telling me that Franklin . . . that he forced himself upon you?”
    â€œThinks no woman would say no to that handsome face of his.” Lydia looked up at Rosalind from plumping one of her pillows. “But we know he isn’t so handsome on the inside, don’t we, Lady Rosalind?”
    Rosalind walked across the room to join the maid. “Why didn’t you tell someone, Lydia? Why did you stay here if you were subjected to acts against your will?”
    The maid shrugged again. “Don’t have any family; you know that. And I need this job. The master said if I didn’t do as I was told, he’d make sure I got no good reference from him. He may not be as upper-crust as you are, Lady Rosalind, but he can make my life harder than it already is.”
    Rosalind brought a trembling hand to her temple and rubbed. “This is unacceptable behavior. He can’t get away with treating you as if you had no say regarding an intimate decision. As if you are only an object put on God’s green earth to do his bidding, no matter how foul you find your duties.”
    Lydia placed a hand upon Rosalind’s shoulder. “He has gotten away with it. And I fear for you beneath his roof. Do as he asks and save yourself while you still can. If he calls me to his bed again, I swear I’ll jump from yonder balcony before I let him tear me up like he did the last time. No woman should be forced to suffer that humiliation.”
    Rosalind’s gaze strayed toward her balcony, as she wondered if she wouldn’t rather jump than live in fear over what Franklin might do to her next or marry Lord Penmore. Like poor Lydia, she had no family. No dotinguncle to come to her rescue, no cousins whom she might seek shelter with. She was alone in the world, the same as the maid.
    â€œI’m sorry, Lydia,” she said softly. “Sorry for your shame and your suffering. I will speak about it to Franklin, you can be sure.”
    â€œNo, milady,” Lydia whispered. “If he knows I’ve been telling tales, he’ll only hurt me worse. Don’t go against him. Not for the likes of me.”
    Rosalind opened her mouth to argue, but a short knock sounded upon her door, and speak of the devil, he entered. Lydia quickly lowered her gaze and slunk toward the door. Rosalind was left to face Franklin alone.
    â€œWe must talk, little sister.”
    Still battling her outrage about Lydia’s confession, and debating whether to call him