Page 31 of Hooked

“Have you eaten today?”

Had I? “I don’t think so.”

“Let’s go back to the house.” He stood and held out a hand.

I stared at that outstretched hand, and it struck me in that moment just how good he was. How selfless and eager to take care of others. He would make a tremendous husband and father. But that’s not what he wanted.

The sadness that saturated my heart at that thought took me utterly by surprise.

Why should it matter to me if he chose to be alone? I’d chosen the same path. We both had our reasons, and I would do well to remember what they were.

“You’re not well, Cecily,” he said after I’d stared for a long time without moving. He bent, wrapping one arm around my lower back and pulling on my hand with the other.

I didn’t object, nor did I say anything. Instead I let him pull me to my feet, leaning into his side as he propelled me down the drive toward the house.

As Falstone murmured reassurances of “I promise you’re safe here” and “He won’t have you,” I put one foot in front of the other, not really listening and certainly not believing his words. He led me around to the kitchen door, helping me to sit at the table once we were inside.

Emeline saw the state of me and quickly rushed to put a bowl of food before me, then pulled some hot water from over the fire and made me a cup of tea.

Falstone sat on the bench beside me, straddling it so that he was fully turned toward me, a warm hand resting on my back. I stared at the food in front of me but couldn’t convince myself that it was worth the effort to actually take a bite.

“Shall I fetch Her Highness?” Emeline asked Falstone.

I snapped out of my reverie. “No. No, I am well enough. The princess does not need to worry any more than she already is.”

Emeline pushed the bowl closer to me. “Then eat.”

A twisted smile was torn from me at the gesture. Trust Emeline to believe that good food was the solution to all of life’s ills.

10

Captain Huckley had been gone for nearly two days, and yet an uneasiness had settled into the pit of my stomach and would not leave. The numb, frozen feeling of yesterday had dissipated, replaced by a low, simmering rage as Captain Huckley’s threats pounded on the inside of my skull, eating away at my peace of mind.

I took my nervous energy into the empty drawing room, desperate to order my thoughts. Would Huckley try to come back for me? Had he really paid the money? If he had, would he seek retribution from my uncle and my mother? Was it my job to prevent it if he did?

“You are wearing a hole in the floor.”

I stopped my pacing and turned to face Falstone, who somehow had entered the drawing room and sat down without me noticing. I could only stare at him where he sat with feet planted wide, elbows leaning into his knees.

“What’s troubling you?” he finally asked.

I let out a little guffaw, looking to the ceiling for answers. What isn’t bothering me? “Did they ever bother to look for me?” The question burst from my mouth.

“Who?”

“My mother. Or my uncle.” I waved that aside. “No, of course my uncle didn’t. But my mother? Did my mother ever look for me? Or did she just assume I was dead and move on?” I continued pacing.

Falstone said nothing.

“Did my mother mourn my death? Does she mourn me still?” The question was more of a desperate wish than a real wondering, and the fact that I had solid reason to doubt her affection for me made anger bubble up. “Should I write to her and tell her I am alive? Should I warn her about Huckley? Does she deserve a warning?!” I yelled the last question.

“You’re still angry with your mother?”

“Yes!” I closed my eyes and breathed, fisting my hands into my hair as I tried to calm down. “I had shoved it down—quite effectively, I might add. But having that man come here and try to claim me…” My stomach roiled at the mere thought.

“Yes.”

I turned away. I didn’t need permission to be angry, I needed to know what to do next.