Page 53 of The Villain
“Why not?” he taunted with a rough, humorless chuckle. “You came with nothing.”
That was not true. She’d come with her virtue … the one thing she’d had to barter with. Now, she would leave without it, possessing nothing else with which to bargain.
Before she could attempt begging again, he had dragged her to the front doors. A footman rushed to pull one of them open, and without preamble, Adam hurled her over the threshold, tossing the sack out behind her. Stumbling onto the landing of the front steps, she whirled to face him, tremors rocking her from head to toe as she struggled for composure. Tears soaked her flushed face, her heart thundered wildly, and hot, bitter bile rose up in the back of her throat.
“Go to the stables to retrieve your horse,” Adam commanded, one hand braced upon the open door. “Go home.”
The heavy panel slammed shut between them. Seconds later, she heard the ominous sound of the bolt being slid into place, barring her from the inside. She rushed toward the imposing oak door on shaking legs and fell against it. Pounding her fists against it, she sobbed, raising her voice to be heard through the wood.
“Let me in! Adam, please … I’ll be good. I promise! I’ll do anything!”
She pounded the door until pain reverberated up her arms, her knuckles scraped and bleeding. She screamed and called out to him, desperation driving her mad, stealing away every ounce of her pride. He could not send her away—not without the thirty thousand pounds she had sold her body for. Without it, she would ride back down the mountain penniless as well as in disgrace. Her family home would be lost, and she could not even be certain where her next meal might come from.
Dunnottar and the lord who lived inside might prove intimidating and downright frightening, but nothing terrified her like a future without the thirty-thousand pounds she’d stood to gain. Her entire outlook rested upon securing those funds. She shuddered to think what she’d be reduced to without them.
“Please,” she whispered hoarsely, sinking to her knees and leaning her weary body against the door. “I’ll do anything.”
Yet, no answer came from the other side of the door. He did not hear her soft whispers any more than he had her shrill cries. She did not doubt he’d put her out of his mind as he easily as he had his home.
This could not be the end. There must be some way to earn her way back into his good graces. With such a short time left of the agreed-upon thirty days, she could not face what going back to London empty-handed might mean.
Determined to wait him out, to force him to confront her, she curled up against the door. Drawing her knees to her chest and holding fast, she lowered her head. Dusk had arrived, bringing with it a chill in the air. Before long, night would fall, causing it to become downright frigid.
Reaching for her sack, she found the coat she’d worn while traveling from London. It would only offer so much warmth when she wore a thin day gown without undergarments. However, it would be better than nothing and might keep her from catching her death.
She did not intend to leave until Adam decided to come out and carry her down the escarpment himself. As she fished her hat from among her other belongings and pulled it down over her ears, she steeled herself for the cold night ahead.
CHAPTER TWELVE
aphne passed the night and a good portion of the following day on the front steps of the palace. As night had fallen, she’d huddled in the doorway and hugged her knees to her chest. Shivering and clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering, she had almost given up. She’d been so cold, her breath turning into mist on the night air, the tips of her fingers going as pale as the moon.
A groom had come from the stable, attempting to coerce her into leaving. He’d told her that her horse had been prepared and ‘the Master’ would expect her to be gone by morning. She had waved him off, declaring she would not leave of her own accord. The groom had seemed flabbergasted, unable to believe his ears. Yet, she had merely turned her head and ignored him, determination winning out against her need to find someplace to warm herself.
She’d slept fitfully, awakening when powerful shudders wracked her body, her teeth clattering so hard, she was afraid they might shatter.
Morning seemed to take ages to arrive, the overcast sky allowing only a bit of the sun’s warmth. The door had swung open sometime later to reveal Maeve, who’d looked at her as if she were a dog who had been kicked.
“The Master doesn’t know I’ve come,” she murmured before setting a tray on the ground beside her. “You must hurry and finish before he rises and discovers I’ve been here. If it means anything to you, he spent most of the night pacing in his study. He even came back to the door after night had fallen, but seemed to think better of opening it.”
Reaching out to grab the warm china cup filled with tea, she gave the maid a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
She did not wish to acknowledge Maeve’s claims concerning Adam … did not want to let herself believe he might care about her in the slightest. The maid was simply trying to make her feel better. If Adam gave a bloody damn about her freezing to death on his front steps, he would come outside himself to retrieve her.
As she gulped the hot tea, heedless to the way it burned her tongue, Daphne told herself the feeling was mutual. She did not care for him any more than he cared for her. She merely needed him to let her back inside so she could earn her thirty thousand pounds. If she could convince him to allow her to finish out her time here, she would return to London with what remained of her dignity.
She’d made quick work of her breakfast, scarfing down the cakes Maeve had brought her and polishing off the tea. The maid had returned to take her empty tray, then disappeared quickly into the large house. Daphne had huddled inside her coat as best she could, shivering and counting the minutes. She realized most of the day had passed her by once her stomach began rumbling again, hunger gnawing upon her insides.
Relief flooded her in a euphoric rush when the door swung open to reveal Niall. His staunch, emotionless expression became the most welcome sight in the world as he reached out to extend a hand to her. She placed hers in his, releasing a sigh of relief when he hauled her to her feet. Though, he did quickly release her, as if touching her had burned him.
“Come along, then,” he said wearily.
She studied him as they entered the palace, searching his face for any hint of what she might expect. They moved in the direction of Adam’s study, so she assumed he had decided to speak with her. Niall gave nothing away, though the tightness of his mouth and flash of his eyes told her he likely disapproved of his master’s decision. She couldn’t help a smug smirk as he opened the door of the study and inclined his head to indicate she should go in.
“Thank you, Niall,” she said imperiously before sweeping through the opening with her head held high.
He grunted something in response, then slammed the panel behind her, enclosing her in the cavernous room. The warmth of the large hearths reached out to her, bringing the feeling back to her fingers and toes. Her numb face began to thaw, the heat of the fire almost painful after her skin had been so thoroughly drained of warmth.
She found Adam seated behind his desk, his appearance not at all what she expected. He looked haggard, his hair tousled as if he’d raked his fingers through it a hundred times. He wore no coat or waistcoat, and the buttons of his wrinkled shirt hung open. But his face shocked her most of all—the dark circles beneath his eyes, the downward curve of his lips. He looked as ghastly as she supposed she did.
