“You will learn your place,” he growled, pointing the tip at her. “Get up.”
Woozy, Eveline climbed to her feet, swaying unsteadily.
“Walk to the door.”
Dragging across the room, Eveline’s bleary gaze focused on the door handle. She stumbled, struggling to retain her balance. Humphrey moved behind her, then wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her against his body. The knife blade slid across her throat, pressing into her skin.
“If you scream,” he murmured, “I’ll slit your neck. Do you understand?”
She nodded, tears streaming down her face.
“When you exit, turn right and walk down the corridor toward the kitchen.” He brushed his mouth over the back of her head. “Do not draw any attention to yourself.”
Eveline wiped her face, opened the door, and stepped into the hallway with Humphrey’s body pressed close to her.
“Miss Braddock!” Miss Sinclair waved and hurried down the corridor toward them.
Tensing, Eveline glanced at Humphrey, silently pleading with him to understand this distraction was outside of her control. Grumbling, he lowered the knife but grabbed Eveline’s bicep, his fingers digging into the muscle.
“Convince her to leave,” Humphrey said, an unspoken threat hovering on his lips.
“Miss Sinclair,” Eveline said, curtsying. “I’m pleased you returned this evening. I was hoping to see you again. Although, after two deaths, you may stop attending functions with me.”
“Do you have a moment?” Miss Sinclair asked, her voice cracking. “There’s something of grave importance I must discuss with you.”
Humphrey’s hand tightened, sending a flash of pain through Eveline’s body.
“There’s a matter I must attend to first,” Eveline ground out, panting from the agony Humphrey continued to inflict on her arm. “May we meet later?”
Miss Sinclair’s face fell, and she turned away with a nod. “Of course, I didn’t intend to interrupt.”
“Thank you,” came Humphrey’s terse reply as he shoved Eveline down the hallway toward the kitchen without waiting for Miss Sinclair to respond.
“Where are we going?” Eveline asked, sucking in a sharp breath when Humphrey poked the tip of the knife into her lower back.
“My lodgings,” he said, pushing her forward.
Eveline swallowed. No one would find her again.
“You didn’t want to stay with your uncle?” she asked, her eyes sliding to servants dashing through the kitchen.
Would one of them notice her distress?
“Residing here makes what I intend to do to you this evening—and every evening afterward until your death—complicated.”
Gasping, she twisted her head around. “Are you going to kill me?”
“No. However, by the time I’m done with your body, you’ll wish for death.” He pressed himself into her, rubbing his growing erection on her butt. “I’m not a gentle man.”
The knife stabbed through her gown, nicking her back.
“Move,” he rumbled, seizing her shoulder and shoving her toward the rear of the kitchen.
“I don’t understand,” she said, her eyes sweeping the section for any utensil she could use as a weapon against Humphrey.
“What don’t you understand?” he sneered, shoving her into the door.
She threw her arms up, protecting her face, but the force was so strong that she rebounded into his chest. Reaching around her, his fingers sliding intimately along her waist, he leaned forward and opened the door.
