Page 76 of Sloth: The Fallen Earl
Perhaps Trudy had helped herself to some of Stanley’s spirits, which she took to sneaking out of necessity for the pain she faced in her aging joints.
Cressida checked all the rooms, even the ones she knew with an absolute certainty her old nursemaid would never be caught in, on account that there were entirely too many mice or holes in the roof. She went to the room she and Trudy shared.
Racing from the room, Cressida caught the doorjamb to keep herself upright and bolted for the baron’s chambers. “Trudy?” she implored, anxiety bringing her voice creeping up. On occasion, when they knew Stanley wouldn’t be back, they invaded his chambers, which were befitting a king and not the abusive toddler he was. There, they’d take turns sleeping to ensure neither of them were caught, but those were celebratory nights.
Trudy absolutely wouldn’t be here now, lounging in comfort, even if it was well deserved, as long as Cressida wasn’t there. Tears pricked her eyes and blurred her vision, and as they fell, she wiped them back angrily, desperately looking to see. Oh, God. What if Stanley and his shrew had taken the old nursemaid and were holding her until Cressida returned and did their bidding?
Panicked, knowing she’d already searched the house and Trudy was absolutely nowhere, she still bolted about, shouting her nursemaid’s name as if, in doing so, she would make the other woman materialize from thin air. Cressida took the path downstairs as quick as she’d taken the ascent and instantly regretted it. The heel of her boot caught a soft patch of rotted oak, and even as her foot stayed in place, anchoring her, her entire upper body went pitching forward.
She came down hard on her stomach. All the breath exploded from her lungs, and pain radiated throughout her body from where she’d taken the fall. Cressida lay dazed with half herbody prone and her legs extended up and backwards. Blackness clouded her vision and began to narrow into little pricks of white. She’d passed out a number of times and recognized what was happening. Her brother had dealt enough powerful blows to let her know the world was going dark. She lay there and fought for calm. Breathing too fast and too hard would only send her into that total abyss of blackness.
Cressida closed her eyes and laid with her cheek upon the moldy floor. She stayed that way until the pain ebbed some and the darkness receded. She struggled to lift her lashes. A shadow fluttered and flickered.
Her gaze collided with a pair of gleaming, buckled, heeled shoes, that wide leather big enough to fit just one man’s foot—one hated man’s foot.
Christ.Hers was a prayer and a curse.
A coarse chuckle echoed around her. “Ah, my slut of a sister has returned.” Stanley towered over her, exerting his size and power.
Refusing to give him that satisfaction, Cressida mustered through the pain and climbed to her feet. She’d learned to say less to cut these exchanges short.
Stanley tugged at a white satin kerchief riddled with yellow sweat stains and wiped at his damp brow. “Well? I take it you’re good and defiled now, ready to fulfill your husband-to-be’s every horrid fantasy.” Crowing like a blackbird, he rubbed his paunch and looked around. “Where’s the old woman?”
Relief assailed her.
Trudy wasn’t here.
He didn’t have a hold on her, which also meant he didn’t have a hold on Cressida. He’d given his hand away.
Feeling ten feet tall, Cressida scraped a derisive stare over her brother. “You don’t need to concern yourself about Trudy.” Mocking the search he’d done of his own, Cressida scoured theroom. “Where’s the baroness? Still warming some other man’s bed until you sell me for some coins to keep her happ—”
Her brother shot out a hand and caught her arm.
Stanley pushed his fleshy, pockmarked face so close, she gagged at the scent of garlic on him.
The cruel smile on his lips oozed satisfaction. “You still haven’t figured out that until you are married, you will still answer to me.” He wrenched Cressida’s arm behind her back.
A pained hiss slipped from between her teeth and tears filled her eyes.
“Not anymore,” she managed to squeeze out past the pain. “Since you sold me like a whore. You’ve made a powerful enemy, Stanley,” she taunted.
Benedict may mistrust her, but he’d also given every indication he would protect her, and that gave her power over the coward.
Stanley eased his grip. His jelly features wavered. “What do you mean?” he asked in his whiny tones.
“I mean, if you think I’m just going to be able to be whisked away and married to the duke, you have another thing coming. The gentleman who bought me last night is concerned I’m with child and has every intention of keeping me close until he can verify I am not with child.”
“Why, that is im-impossible!” her brother stuttered. “That is…not happening.”
“Oh,” Cressida sneered. “It most certainly is. You should have thought about the possible ramifications of introducing me to a powerful gentleman.”
His already heavily florid cheeks turned ten shades brighter. “Who is he?” he demanded.
“I’m not giving you his name.” Using her brother’s absorption in the bad news she was levying, Cressida used theopportunity to back away from him slowly. The baron stabbed a finger in her direction.
“Ah-ha. That’s because there is no gentleman.” He chortled and his big belly bounced with his mirth. “As if any gentleman would want you.” His amusement faded to a dark, sinister fury. “If there was in fact a gentleman, you’d give me his name.”
Strengthened by the idea that Benedict would stand behind her against her brother, should she so ask it, she found the courage to flash him a derisive smile. “As it so happens, he’s real. It is just I respect him and I loathe you, and I hate the idea that you might have any idea of his identity because you aren’t even fit to lick the soles of his horse’s hooves.”
