class="msonormal">He turned to help me up, finding me almost asleep, my chin on my knees. He would have lifted me, but I roused myself and took his outstretched hand. We went to the trees, where several horses were tethered, peacefully grazing in the moonlight. Richard mounted, and said to James behind me, “I don’t think Rose is in any condition to ride. I’ll take her.” It said a lot for his commanding presence that James didn’t demur. Instead, my brother gave me a boost while Richard lifted me, and settled me in front of him.

For a moment, I roused, reminded of that nightmare ride with Terry earlier. I sat up straight, and stared at Richard in terror, but I wasn’t so far gone I couldn’t recognise his face. He met my eyes and flinched, but drew me close. I sank gratefully against him again, and let him wrap me in his travelling cloak. I felt his warmth and took comfort from the gentle words he murmured to me. “Nothing will hurt you now, my love, I’m here, I’ll never let you go again,” were the tenor of them, exactly what I needed to hear at that moment. Soothed by his words and the gentle movement of the walking horse, I fell sound asleep.

Chapter Twenty-One

I don’t know what time we got home, or who put me to bed, but I woke once in the night, stirred and heard a female voice; Martha’s, saying, “Go back to sleep, dear. You’re safe now.” Childlike I obeyed, recognising my own bed. I didn’t wake again until the day was well advanced.

The maid came in, saw me and smiled. She bent to light the fire. “Her ladyship says you must rest today, my lady. I’ll fetch you some breakfast.” I hadn’t realised I was hungry until I smelled the hot chocolate on the tray she brought, but I got up, wincing at some of the bruises when I caught them, put on my wrapper, and went to sit by the fire.

I still sat there, my hands wrapped around the warm cup, lost in thought when the door opened and Richard came in. He was fully dressed in his usual style as though he had been to the coffeehouse for an hour, not up all night fighting gangs of free traders.

I was overjoyed, but surprised by his presence in my room. “Martha let you in here?” I asked in amazement.

“Lady Hareton is in bed. She sat up with you all night,” he replied, crossing the room to me. “I, on the other hand, slept well. Your brother thinks your maid is here, but I’ve sent her away.”

“Thompson’s?” I asked, meaning the maid.

“No, just a good tip.” He bent to kiss me good morning, then dropped into the chair opposite mine. “Which reminds me. I’ve sent to the agency for a maid for you. I hope you don’t mind. If you don’t like her, you can always send her away, but between ourselves, she’s not just the best lady’s maid I can find—she has skills in other areas. She’ll look after you.”

“A bodyguard?” I gazed at him over the chocolate cup. His image shimmered in the steam. He wore blue today, almost the same colour as my wedding dress.

“In a way. Much as Carier serves me. Her name is Adele Nichols. I had to steal her from someone else, but when she heard who it was for, she came willingly.”

I sighed. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” I didn’t really think about it for the time being. I only had one thing on my mind; how to tell him what had been done to me, and what might have been done. Terry would be doing it now if I hadn’t broken away, I realised, and despite the warm day and the glowing fire, I shuddered in repulsion.

Richard saw, of course, and leaned towards me, his tone softly tranquil. “You said you’d tell me what was done to you. If you’d rather not, if you can’t relive it or you don’t want to tell me, we’ll leave it alone.”

His statement took my breath away. How I loved his concern, his thought for me, and his trust. For all he knew Terry could have raped me already. I could even be carrying his child. But I had to be fair, I had to show Richard, give him the choice. Besides, if I kept it from him, if we were still to be married next week, Richard would find out when he saw my poor abused body on Thursday night. Decisively, I got up from the chair and put down my cup.

My bedroom looked out over the gardens at the back of the house, from two long windows. I opened the shutters out on the right side of one and the left side of the other, thus creating a screen so nobody could see me from outside.

I didn’t look at Richard as I dropped the wrapper on the floor and lifted the night-rail over my head.

I stood still, I don’t know for how long, and then I dared to glance across to where he sat. It must be obvious what had been done to me. I didn’t need to explain once he’d seen the clusters of red pinches and bruises, some of them now darkening to blue, concentrated in the most private parts of my body.

I saw I was right. It needed no explanation. I bent, retrieved my night-rail, and slipped it back on with shaking hands.

White-faced he rose, came across the room, and helped me back into my wrapper. Then he took me into his arms