The room held a poster bed, a dresser, an armless chair. There was cold water in the ewer, a chamber pot beneath the bed.
So now what? She sat down on the bed and wished she had Dante with her. She'd never felt as alone as she did now. Even in the lonely wasteland of her childhood there'd been animals… always someone worse off than she was. Now there was nothing.
Tears tracked down her cheeks, and for a while she indulged them. Then she heard steps in the corridor outside. She hastily rose to her feet, splashed water on her face, and sat in the chair, her face turned toward the window so the traces of tears wouldn't be immediately visible to whoever entered.
It was Jasper, accompanied by a servant, who put down the portmanteau she'd used on the journey. He left immediately, closing the door. Jasper turned the key and stood regarding his sister for a moment.
"Louise will find you a change of clothes," he said. "Otherwise, you have everything you need."
"Thank you," she said, hearing how ridiculous it sounded.
"Let me make a few things clear to you." He came over to her chair. "Stand up."
Chloe did so. What choice did she have?
"Look at me."
That was harder. She didn't want him to see the tracks of her tears. Then Jasper made it simple. He slapped her face again and any tears could be easily explained. She raised her head and looked at him.
"That's better. Tomorrow evening, you will be married to Crispin-"
"No" She winced in expectation of another blow, but it didn't come.
"Don't interrupt," he said in an almost bored tone. "As I was saying, tomorrow evening you will be married to Crispin. Afterward, you will be presented in the crypt, as your mother was. What she failed to do, you, her daughter, will make up for. It is the way of the Congregation," he added with a rich note of conviction. "We do not leave things unfinished, and I've waited nigh on fifteen years to fulfill the obligation.
"After that…" He shrugged. "That's for Crispin to decide. Your fortune will pass into his hands, and thus into my hands, as it should have done on the death of my father. Somehow, your mother managed-" He stopped abruptly, but the ugliness of his expression remained. Elizabeth, the innocent, the fool, had somehow outmaneuvered both her husband and his son.
"You will take your mother's place," he resumed, "and fulfill your mother's obligations with one difference. It will be the consummation of your marriage and Crispin will take your virginity. That is all." He turned from her.
"Not quite," Chloe said, unsure why she was speaking except that she had a desperate need to puncture her brother's calm assurance. "Crispin cannot take my virginity. It's not there to be taken."
"What!" Jasper spun around, his expression astounded. "What the hell are you talking about? You've been living in a goddamned nunnery since you were seven." A speculative gleam appeared in the cold eyes. "And since then you've been safe and sound in the care of Hugo Lattimer, haven't you?" he said slowly.
Throwing back his head, he laughed with rich enjoyment. "So that explains your vigorous championship. No wonder you know about the snake on his chest. Well… well… well… the self-righteous drunkard isn't so pure after all. He debauched you, did he? The innocent maiden left to his care by the woman he'd sworn to love to eternity."
"He did not debauch me." Chloe's voice was low but fierce.
Jasper shook his head, still chuckling. "He hasn't changed at all. Well, that does add a fascinating dimension to tomorrow night's revels. Lattimer's interest will be all the keener when he watches your initiation."
Chloe had paled. "Watches…? What do you mean? How can he watch when he's not here."
"Oh, he will be," Jasper assured her with calm conviction. "If he left as soon as he received my message, he should arrive hotfoot at the crypt just as the ceremony begins. And we shall have a pleasant reception for him… and a most unpleasant and utterly final conclusion." His mouth smiled, but the pale eyes were voids. He left her.
Chloe paced the small space. She was not frightened for herself anymore, she realized. Instead, she was filled with a surging energy and determination to do something to effect her escape. She'd been passive for too long. If Hugo was coming-and he would be if he knew where she was-then there was hope, but also the desperate need now to ensure that he didn't fall into Jasper's trap. She had to escape and warn Hugo before he reached Shipton. But how?
Her eyes searched the room for inspiration. The attic was too high up for escape through the window, even if she could squeeze through the tiny aperture. Perhaps she could start a fire, and when they opened the door, she could slip out under cover of the smoke? But supposing they didn't smell the smoke? How long would it take for a fire in this isolated part of the house to become noticeable downstairs? Too long. She'd be suffocated by the time they reached her.
The only chance was to escape when the door was opened. If she could win enough time to get out into the corridor and lock the door behind her, then she'd have a chance. It was a slim one, but all that was available.
The only object heavy enough was the chair. She lifted it over her head with an effort. But it could be done. She positioned the chair behind the door and sat down on the bed to await her next visitor.
Her ears, straining into the silence, caught trie sound of footsteps as they ascended the stairs at the end of the corridor. She darted behind the door and lifted the chair. The blood thudded in her ears and her heart pounded against her rib cage as if it would burst from her body. The key grated in the lock. The door swung open.
In the same instant, she sprang out and slammed the chair down on Crispin's head as he stepped inside. He yelled and fell to his knees. Chloe leapt behind him and out of the door… and straight into the arms of her brother.
Jasper said nothing, simply lifted her off the ground and thrust her back into the room. Crispin was rubbing his head, blinking in bemusement. But he rose to his feet immediately as Jasper hauled Chloe to the foot of the bed.
"Give me your cravat!" Jasper commanded crisply as he yanked his prisoner's arms high above her head. Crispin handed him the strip of linen. "Hold her arms." His stepson obeyed as Jasper twisted the material into a thin, strong rope and tied Chloe's wrists to the frame of the tester.
The next second she screamed as he brought his riding whip down once across her shoulders. Catching her hair, he pulled her head back and spoke softly against her ear. "I warned you, little sister." And then they were gone and the key turned in the lock.
She didn't know how long she hung there, her arms at full stretch, her toes supporting her weight. The pain of the whip cut faded to a dull ache and was soon canceled by the strain in her extended arms. The light faded from the room as dusk fell and she retreated from her body's pain, her mind taking refuge in some dark corner of her self.
It was full darkness when footsteps pierced her trance and the door opened. Jasper entered carrying a candle and a tray. He set them on the dresser and bent to pick up the fallen chair. Then he approached the still figure.
"I assume you've had sufficient time to reflect," he observed, slicing through her bonds with a knife. Chloe toppled forward onto the bed as her arms fell to her sides and her aching toes gave way. "You'll receive no more visitors until tomorrow," Jasper continued, going to the door, adding with faint mockery, "Sleep well."
Chloe rolled over onto her back as the door closed. The soft glow of the candle was comforting, and she lay for a long time, returning to a full sense of herself and the room around her. Her body ached in every limb, every muscle as sore as if she'd been in a prizefight. She wasn't seriously hurt. But she was most seriously warned.