Ophelia was confused, her jaw hanging open. The sentiment suggested Gertrude thought she was doing something kind, but it still didn’t explain why she was forcing Ophelia into this marriage.
She laid the gown across the bed, hurrying Ophelia to her feet.
“Gertrude, have I not made myself plain?” Ophelia asked, clinging onto one of the posts of the bed as she swung round to face her stepmother. “I am not marrying Lord Chester, and I have told him the same thing.”
“You will understand. In time. It is for the best.”
“Why is it for the best? Gertrude, please, listen to me.” Ophelia tried to take Gertrude’s hand, but she pulled away. “Gertrude… why are you being like this? Why won’t you listen to what I want?”
“Because you have to marry him. You have to.” She fiddled with the gown on the bed. “You will marry him, then everything will be right. Everything will be as it should have been, before we saw the sol…” She trailed off as if she realised what she had done and chewed her lip.
“The solicitor?” Ophelia finished for her.
Oh, my goodness, now I understand.
She blinked, finally seeing why her stepmother was so keen for her to marry Lord Chester. If she became part of the family, then her fortune would belong to Lord Chester—and he may gift some of it to Gertrude.
She is doing this because she thinks my father betrayed her by not giving her more money?
“Do not look at me like that,” Gertrude pleaded. Ophelia had no words, though. All she knew was that she had to be out of the house, to think for herself.
She walked across the room, heading for the door.
“Ophelia? Where are you going?”
Ophelia didn’t answer. It didn’t matter to her that it was the middle of the night. She went to the butler and asked him to prepare her horse, then she left, riding madly through the streets. She couldn’t stay out here forever, but for now, it was the escape she needed.
How dare she do that? How dare she try to control me in order to get the money? It is so cruel! So selfish!
All Ophelia could think of was defying Gertrude. She had been gifted a good annuity by her father, plenty to live on comfortably, yet it was not enough. It showed that Gertrude had a spirit of avarice within her, a greed Ophelia had never seen before, and that emotion was so ugly she was prepared to make Ophelia miserable in order to have what she wanted.
“I cannot forgive her for this.” Ophelia rode through the streets with wild abandon, rushing past open gambling halls and men gathered in the street. When she reached the river, she had to abruptly stop.
Cursing aloud, she thought of the danger she was tempting. Gertrude was her guardian and could still apply for a special license in her name. There was only one way to defy such an order, one way to escape it.
“I must marry someone else.”
An idea was forming in her head. If Ophelia could find a man to marry that wasn’t Lord Chester, but a man of her own choosing, then she would be safe and Gertrude would never get the money.
A splash of water echoed from the river. Ophelia looked round from atop her horse, peering over the wall and beyond the riverbank, down into the Thames that was roughly ten meters below her. Arms and legs flailed in the water, then all fell still.
Someone is in the water!
Chapter 7
Ophelia left the horse behind and leapt down. Whoever was in the water was struggling, and the moonlight that fell on the water barely illuminated their figure. They couldn’t swim to get themselves out.
Discarding the horse’s reins, Ophelia ran for a set of mooring steps that led down to the exposed riverbank. With her feet in the earth, she looked round at herself, making a quick decision.
“I must be mad.” She discarded her pelisse, tossing it to the floor, then kicked off her shoes, too, before running into the river.
She was a strong swimmer. Her father had not just taught her to ride but to do many things that Gertrude over the years had called rather “manly.” Ophelia could shoot arrows and sail, too. Once waist-high in the water, which was so cold it began to make her fingers ache and her teeth chatter, she dived.
At first, it was too dark to see anything. She came back to the surface, looking for some sign of the person. She saw one flap of an arm before they fell still. Diving down again, she swam closer, and this time, the moonlight was strong enough to see the figure.
It was a man, dressed in black, tall and struggling to swim.
He was heavy and resistant when her hands took hold of his arms. He turned in the water, apparently trying to see who was there. She barely caught sight of his face and dark hair before she took hold of his waist and pushed him upward. He kicked out in the water, too.