At that moment, Caroline decided to dispense with any last shred of sentimentality she might be feeling and stomped to the door. Hand on the knob, she said, "I'll see you in six weeks-when I come to collect my inheritance."
"And pay me back," he reminded her.
"And pay you back. With interest," she added before he could.
"Good."
"On the other hand," she said, mostly to herself, "there might be a way to conduct my affairs without meeting with the Prewitts again. I could do everything through a solicitor, and-"
"Even better," Percy interrupted.
Caroline let out a very loud, very irritated exhale and quit the room. Percy was never going to change. He was rude, he was selfish, and even if he was marginally nicer than his father-well, that still made him a boorish lout.
She scurried along the dark corridor and up a flight of stairs to her room. Funny how her guardians always gave her rooms in the attics. Oliver had been worse than most, relegating her to a dusty corner with low ceilings and deep eaves. But if he had meant to break her spirit he had failed. Caroline
loved her cozy room. It was closer to the sky. She could hear the rain against the ceiling, and she could watch the tree branches bud in spring. Birds nested outside her window, and squirrels occasionally ran along her ledge.
As she threw her most prized belongings into a bag, she stopped to peer out the window. It had been a cloudless day and now the sky was remarkably clear. It somehow seemed fitting that this should be a starry night. Caroline had few memories of her mother, but she could recall sitting on her lap outside on summer nights, staring up at the stars. "Look at that one," Cassandra Trent would whisper. "I think it's the brightest one in the sky. And look over there. Can you see the bear?" Their outings had always ended with Cassandra saying, "Each star is special. Did you know that? I know that sometimes they all look the same, but each one is special and different, just like you. You are the most special little girl in the whole world. Don't ever forget that."
Caroline had been too young to realize that Cassandra was dying, but now she cherished her mother's final gift, for no matter how bleak or desolate she felt-and the last ten years of her life had given her many reasons to feel bleak and desolate- Caroline had only to look up at the sky to give her a measure of the peace. If a star twinkled, she felt safe and warm. Maybe not as safe and warm as that long-ago toddler on her mother's lap, but at least the stars gave her hope. They endured, and so could she.
She gave her room a final inspection to make certain she hadn't left anything behind, tossed a few
tallow candles into her bag in case she needed them, and dashed out. The house was quiet; all the servants had been given the night off, presumably so there would be no witnesses when Percy attacked her. Trust Oliver to think ahead. Caroline was only surprised that he hadn't tried this tactic sooner. He must have originally thought that he could get her to marry Percy without resorting to rape. Now that her twenty-first birthday was approaching, he was growing desperate.
And so was Caroline. If she had to marry Percy, she'd die. She didn't care how melodramatic she sounded. The only thing worse than the thought of seeing him every day for the rest of her life was having to listen to him every day for the rest of her life.
She was making her way through 'the hall toward the front door when she noticed Oliver's new candelabra sitting majestically on the side table. He'd been crowing about the piece all week. Sterling silver, he'd said. The finest craftsmanship. Caroline growled. Oliver hadn't been able to afford sterling silver candelabras before he'd been appointed her guardian.
It was ironic, really. She'd have been happy to share her fortune-give it away, even-if she'd found a home with a family who loved her and cared for her. Someone who saw in her something more than a workhorse with a bank account.
Impulsively, Caroline yanked the beeswax candles out of the candelabra and replaced them with the tallow ones in her bag. If she needed to light a candle on her travels, she wanted the sweet-smelling beeswax Oliver reserved for himself.
She ran outside, mumbling a short thanks for the warm weather. "It's a bloody good thing Percy didn't decide to attack me in the winter," she muttered, striding down the drive. She would have preferred to ride-anything that would get her out of Hampshire faster-but Oliver kept only two horses, and they were currently attached to his carriage, which he'd taken with him to his weekly game of cards at the squire's house.
Caroline tried to look at the bright side and reminded herself that she could hide more easily on foot. She'd be slower, though, and if she ran into footpads...
She shuddered. A woman alone was very conspicuous. And her light brown hair seemed to catch all the moonlight, even with most of it stuffed into a bonnet. She'd have been smart to dress up like a boy, but she hadn't had enough time. Perhaps she should follow the coast to the nearest busy harbor. It wasn't that far. She'd be able to travel faster by sea, take herself far enough away so that Oliver couldn't find her within six weeks.
Yes, it would have to be the coast. But she couldn't travel via the main roads. Someone was bound to see her. She turned south and began to cut through a field. It was only fifteen miles to Portsmouth. If she walked quickly and through the night, she could be there by morning. Then she could book passage on a ship-something that would take her to another part of England. Caroline didn't want to leave the country, not when she needed to claim her inheritance in six short weeks.
But what was she supposed to do with herself during that time? She'd been cut off from society
for so long she didn't even know if she was qualified for any type of gentle employment. She thought she might make a good governess, but it would probably take six weeks just to find a position. And then... Well, it just wasn't fair to take a position as a governess and then leave the post mere weeks later.
She did know how to cook, and her guardians had certainly made sure she knew how to clean. Maybe she could work for room and board at some little-known, very out-of-the-way inn.
She nodded to herself. Cleaning up after strangers wasn't terribly appealing, but it seemed to be her only hope of survival for the next few weeks. But no matter what, she had to get away from Hampshire and its neighboring counties. She could work at an inn, but it would have to be far away from Prewitt Hall.
And so she increased her pace toward Portsmouth. The grass under her shoes was soft and dry, and the trees shielded her from the view of the main road. There wasn't much traffic this time of night, but one couldn't be too careful. She moved swiftly, the only sound her footfall as her boots met the earth. Until...
What was that?
Caroline whirled around but saw nothing. Her heart raced. She could have sworn she'd heard something. "It was just a hedgehog," she whispered to herself. "Or perhaps a hare." But she didn't see any animals, and she didn't feel reassured.
"Just keep moving," she told herself. "You must get to Portsmouth by morning." She resumed her
trek, walking so fast now that her breath began to come faster and faster. And then...
She whirled around again, her hand instinctively reaching for her gun. This time she'd definitely heard something. "I know you're out there," she said with a defiance she didn't quite feel. "Show your face or remain a coward."