“And what did you or Simeon do to earn it? What did your father ever do to earn it? Nothing! I am at least working toward my goal. The rest of you only had to come squalling out of the right womb, sired by the right man.”
“Yes, and I am certain that leaving that trail of blood behind you clearly shows everyone how very hard you are working.”
“I have not left a trail of blood! I have not killed anyone.”
“I find it a little hard to believe that you have not killed anyone. But you must know that just because you did not use your own hands, you are not innocent of the crime. But you did use your own hands a few times, did you not, Aunt? On my father, my mother, my bloody dog!”
“Enough of this. ’Tis time to prepare you for your marriage.”
“Untie me and I will strangle you.”
It did not surprise Primrose to watch her aunt take a hasty step back. The murderous tone to her words had even surprised Primrose. The fury she felt toward this woman who had destroyed her family astonished her even though she doubted anyone would question the righteousness of it.
There was nothing she could do to halt her aunt’s meager attempts to tidy her up. When the man untied her, she tried to wrest free but he was too strong. Then she tried to drag her feet as she was taken up to where the altar was. It was hard to believe that the kindly pastor she had known for years would officiate over such a marriage.
It took only one look at the pastor’s face to tell her that the man would officiate and that he was too terrified not to. Augusta had become very proficient in threatening even good men into doing as she ordered them to, to go against their own beliefs and rules. Seeing the pale, shaking Pastor Robbins standing near the altar broke her heart and not simply because he was about to marry her to a man who made her skin crawl.
She looked at Sir Edgar, as the man named Carl dragged her over to stand next to her groom. His wrinkled face was well decorated in patches that had gone out of fashion a long time ago. “They do not fool anyone, you know,” she said.
“What are you speaking about?” Sir Edgar asked. The look he gave Primrose told her he did not like women much at all even if he did keep marrying them.
“Those silly patches. They do not fool anyone. All know you but try to hide the sores caused by the pox that is eating you alive.”
His age-spotted hands clenched into fists and she was sure he was going to strike her but Augusta stepped closer. Primrose knew it was not to save her niece from a blow but to keep Sir Edgar from giving the pastor any reason to speak out later. How the woman could ever have bedded the nasty little man, Primrose did not know but she doubted whatever reward Augusta got for the act was really worth it.
“Now, Edgar, my dear, soothe your temper. She is a very disobedient child who speaks as if she has some right to tell everyone what is on her mind. Her father’s fault, of course.”
Sir Edgar took a deep breath and let the air out slowly. It was a very foul air. Even Augusta winced. Primrose heard the man holding her in place curse softly and had to agree with the obscene sentiment. Sir Edgar was a walking dead man. His breath was so foul, she knew he had to be rotting away inside.
Clearing his throat, the parson sent Primrose a look that screamed for forgiveness and, with one curt nod, she gave it. Sir Edgar reached out for her hand as the pastor cleared his throat and opened his prayer book. Primrose actually leaned farther against her captor. The fact that the man did not just smack her and shove her back in position told her that he found the man pretty disgusting as well.
Just as Primrose was wondering how she could get out of this mess, the door to the chapel was thrown open and in strode Bened followed by the others who swiftly spread through the church. Primrose grinned, and that’s when Edgar hit her hard on the side of the head with his closed fist. As she fell to the floor she was certain she heard a gunshot.
Willow Hill was in chaos when Bened rode up and he felt a growing alarm tighten its bands around his heart. He dismounted quickly and tossed his reins to a nearby stable hand. The fact that none of the horses had yet been led off to the stables troubled Bened as did the wide open doors of the manor. He raced into the house and followed the sound of a lot of loud voices all trying to talk at once. He found them all gathered around the open door to Primrose’s garden room where she grew and worked with her many plants and herbs.
After only a moment of listening to shouted questions that gained no coherent replies only to have the questions shouted at someone else, he yelled, “Hush! All of you cease this loud babble at once!”