Chapter Five

The ride home in the carriage was silent. Delaney sat next to Blaine and across from Papa keeping her eyes on her hands as she mentally braced herself for the punishment she knew was coming. When the carriage lurched to a halt at Terraton Manor, Delaney took Blaine’s hand and stepped down, avoiding his eyes and keeping her expression blank and stupid.

Papa jumped out and turned to Blaine. “Jarilon, see to it that the horses are put away. Delaney, I think you ought to go to bed.”
Delaney slipped inside the house, Papa’s footsteps echoing behind her. The instant the front door slammed behind the two of them, he took her arm, keeping his expression pleasant, because the butler was standing in the entry way, and he led her to his bookroom with a hard grip on her arm, and when the book room door closed, Papa’s pleasant expression disappeared, revealing the face Delaney was most familiar with.

“You stupid little--",” he didn’t finish, instead, dropping her arm and giving her a shove that sent her sprawling on the floor. Delaney promptly curled up and closed her eyes making herself think of pleasant things while her father's boots made contact with her back and her legs. He was saying something to her in his low angry voice, but she wasn’t listening. Instead, she thought about the amusement she’d felt with the Duke of Montague’s sarcasm.

Papa stopped suddenly. Delaney didn’t move, suspecting some trick. “Get up,” Papa commanded sharply. Delaney didn’t listen, until her father grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and placed her on her feet.

“Fix your hair,” he hissed.

Delaney frowned, wondering if her mental faculties for once deserted her, until she heard someone knock on the door. “Hurry,” Papa commanded sharply.

Delaney ran a hand silently over her hair, wondering who had knocked on the door. No one had ever disturbed Papa when he was in his book room. It was a command he’d given the servants, for all she knew before she was born.

“What do you want?” Papa strode to the door, his face looking mildly irritated, instead of full of rage like she knew he was feeling.

Delaney blinked in bewilderment when the door swung open to reveal Blaine standing there, his frown fully in place. His gaze settled on her and his eyes sharpened a bit. “I thought she was going to lay down,” he commented. His tone was calm, but something in it made Delaney wonder what he was thinking.

Papa recovered his composure quickly. “I was giving her a bit of brandy,” he explained, “just to help her feel better quicker.”
Blaine nodded slowly, but not really in a way that said he believed Papa. Instead, he looked at her again, his gaze steadier than she’d seen it before. He met her eyes fully, not avoiding her eyes as he often did. “Would you like me to walk you to your room?” he questioned politely.

Delaney darted her eyes to Papa, who was still trying to appear pleasant, but it was starting to slip a bit. “Yes, please,” she murmured hastily. She suspected that she would pay for it later, the fact that she’d taken a way out. Papa would probably hurt her worse later, but at the moment, she was just thankful to escape the continuation of the beating she’d been receiving. Perhaps if she was away from Papa along, his foul mood would relax a bit. Silently, she took Blaine’s hand and then his arm as he led her silently up the stairs. She slipped inside her room and locked the door behind her leaning against it and letting out a puff of air before making her way silently to the wardrobe where she kept hidden the soothing salve she always used for the bruises. She’d heard the housekeeper complaining to Papa several times about how the salve she bought always seemed to disappear, but Papa believed Delaney too stupid to steal it. She took it out of the hatbox she kept it in, and, undressing cautiously, she smeared it on the new bruises and cuts she’d received on her arms and chest, although the ones on her back were harder to reach. She put her night dress on and crawled into bed, the tiredness of the day washing over her, despite the pain. She relaxed into the pillows, letting herself go to sleep. Her eyes flew open suddenly. The full moon streaming through her window let off some light and the clock said it was well past midnight. She didn’t wait to see what had woken her. She slid out of bed and slipped inside her wardrobe, slipping in between the wall of hat boxes she’d made inside just as she heard her door click open. From the sound of the steps, Papa had gotten himself drunk, never a good sign. He was muttering under his breath about how stupid Delaney was and she heard him rustling around looking for. He yanked open the wardrobe door, but she hoped he wouldn’t move the boxes. He never had before. After a long moment, he stumbled away, muttering under his breath as he left her room. Delaney didn’t move out of her hiding place for a long time.