me,” she said after a moment. “Not only do you want me to be disloyal to my mother by cultivating a friendship with people who rejected her for no good reason, but you also want me to go cap in hand, begging for favours from them. Then you want me to sell myself into slavery to some court fop so that you can get promotion.” She threw her napkin down on the table and stood up, her meal untouched. “If you want promotion you will have to concoct another plan. You go and beg to them if you want. Maybe you can bag yourself a wealthy heiress.”
She made her way towards the door, which started to open as she reached it. In a flash Richard leapt from his seat and reached the door before her, slamming it shut in the startled Martha’s face and standing with his back to it.
“Let me past,” she said coldly. When he didn’t move, she reached past him towards the doorknob, certain he would stand aside when he realised she had no intention of staying to listen to any more of this rubbish.
Instead he reached out and gripped her by both arms, pulling her round to face him. Startled, she pulled against his grip, but he squeezed tighter. His mouth twisted.
“Do you know nothing of society life, you little fool?” he said, shaking her. “It is not possible for a sergeant in the dragoons to marry a wealthy heiress, even if I were the most handsome man in Christendom. Beautiful women on the other hand, marry above themselves all the time. Particularly when they have a huge dowry!” His voice rose almost to a shout on the last sentence.
“I am not like you, Richard,” she replied, struggling to break his grip. “I’m quite happy living here. I have no great ambitions, and even if I did, I would not demean myself to achieve them.” She kicked out at him, but to little effect, hampered as she was by her skirts. “Let me go, Richard, you’re hurting me!” she shouted, enraged.
Instead of complying with her wish, he dug his fingers deeper into her biceps, smiling as she cried out. A muscle twitched in his cheek, and she realised with horror that he was actually enjoying her pain. Then he released her suddenly with a push, and she staggered backwards. He opened the door and turned back to her.
“Take a little time to think about it,” he said. “It’s the only reasonable solution.”
“I don’t need any time,” she retorted coldly. “I will not change my mind.”
She moved forward again to pass him and he pushed the door closed slightly, impeding her exit, although he made no attempt to seize her again.
“Oh, you will, sister,” he said quietly. “You will.” He opened the door wider and she took the opportunity to escape, making herself walk slowly, and not run as she wanted to. She was uncomfortably aware of his eyes following her as she mounted the stairs, and she reached her room with a feeling of the utmost relief.
It was the first time her brother had touched her, and was a far cry from the fraternal embrace she had hoped for when he had first arrived. Normally inclined to look for the best in anyone, she began to suspect that Graeme had been more accurate in his assessment of Richard than she had thought, and prayed that her suspicions were wrong.
Chapter Two
She expected him to badger her day and night to accede to his plan, but to her surprise he did not. Instead he was almost affable over the next two days, which although probably intended to reassure her, had the opposite effect. When she told him of her intention to visit a friend, Mary, who lived in the nearby village of Withington, he didn’t demur at all, but expressed the wish that she have a pleasant time. She would have thought that he had resigned himself to their financial circumstances, had it not been for the fact that she was not stupid, and that the attitude of the servants continued to deteriorate. They no longer spoke to her in the familiar relaxed manner she was used to, and called her ‘Miss Elizabeth’ as
Learning to Kill: Stories