The Diary of Cozette by Amanda McIntyre Page B

Frank, of course, being a man, had already established himself and was highly esteemed and quite honorable, so he led many to believe. No proof was required, naturally, and shortly thereafter, my mother’s circle of social connections pressured her to believe that perhaps the rumors were true and that I was not interested in a proper home and family. I begged her to listen, pleaded to let me stay, but she finally turned me out and told me to find my own way, whatever that was.”
    “How horrid, surely they know the truth by now?”
    She shrugged. “I cannot say. I’ve not been in contact with them for over four months now.”
    There was bitterness in her voice, and a depth of sadness laced within her words. “Perhaps you could try now and they would listen to you?” I made the offer, though anticipated her response.
    As I expected, she shook her head, her spirit entirely broken. She was a lost soul and even though my heart ached for Ernest to rescue me from this dreadful existence, it was trivial by comparison to Betsy’s sad tale.
    She twisted her fingers in her lap and my mind raced with how I might assist her with this wretched dilemma.
    At the sound of a loud bang down the hall, our gazes together leapt toward the door. The thudding echo of a person of some girth drew closer with each step.
    “That’s him. Quick, you must hide. Go back to your room. He’s had a number of pints tonight. Moreover he is quite large, possessing a fierce temper. Please, we mustn’t tease his anger.”
    I stood between the end of the bed and my door, torn by conceding and leaving her to the fate of this beast. I stiffened my spine, summoning as much courage as was in me, and looked at her square in the eye. “I will not leave unless you are certain. I cannot stand by and do nothing to help. If it is your wish, I believe that together, somehow, we can overcome him.”
    She laughed openly, looking at me as though I was insane and perhaps I was, if only temporary.
    Her gaze lingered a breath more on mine as her brows pinched together, weighing her few options.
    “Very well, I have an idea. Play along and perhaps we can convince the oaf that he is about to receive twice the pleasure for the price of one. With any luck the tosspot will pass out from his drunken state.”
    For a brief moment, her courage reflected my determi nation. The unsteady footsteps in the hallway drew precariously near. Her theory left much to be desired. Nevertheless, it is all we had.
    I nodded. “I will play along then.” My gaze searched the room, landing on a wooden chair in the corner. I pictured how best to whack the man over his head if circumstances came to that.
    “Where are you, my lovely girl,” a deep voice bellowed just as the door to the room swung in and slammed against the cracked wall. It sent a chunk of thin plaster flying across the room and I flinched as it whirred past my head.
    Standing in the doorway was a man the likes of which I had never before seen. His shoulders were broad, making the opening appear small, and his hands were twice the size of the average man. His thick mass of scraggly, blond hair was cut straight across his nape and stuck out over his thick mutton-chop sideburns, giving him the appearance of a wild beast. However, my attention was drawn to his large face. His cheekbones were hewn into a square jaw and his mouth wide, with thick lips that turned downward in a scowl. And those eyes, eyes as icy blue as a winter morning, turned to me.
    I stepped back, holding his gaze. My stomach churned as though I might vomit.
    An evil grin curled his impervious lips back over garish yellow teeth. A bit of tobacco residue stuck to his front tooth. I turned my face to gather my courage and prayed we would not have to follow through with our charade.
    He kicked the door shut with his massive booted foot, his gaze bouncing from me to Betsy as he began to unbutton his shirt. I glanced at Betsy with a look of concern, truly my faith in