Page 128 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
She broke off as Andrew drew in a breath to dissipate the nausea swirling in his gut.
“Do you not wish to hear it, vicar?” she said. “In the end I learned that I had to survive, so I had a choice. Fight him until he took me, or go willing and spare the pain. So I went willing.”
“And your husband?”
She flinched. “Ralph was courtin’ me at the time. I didn’t want to marry him, but when I quickened with child, I had no choice. I thought he’d keep me safe from Sir John, but after Florrie was born, we needed the money, so I had to go back. Until I fell pregnant with Anna, and then…”
She shook, and Andrew took her shoulders. She stiffened, but lifted her gaze to his.
“Ralph called me a whore, saying I’d sold myself—that I’d disgraced him. I was ashamed, tried to keep things nice for him, like, but when he’d come home from the Sailor after a drink or two, he…”
Andrew took her hand. “It’s all right,” he said, grimacing at the image of Loveday with her bandaged arm and the bruises on her face, which she’d tried in vain to hide.
“No,” she said. “It’snotall right. Mistress Juliette was the only one who wanted to help me. She didn’t deliver a sermon, or tell me how to please my husband, or bring me her discarded dresses to indulge her desire to be seen as charitable. She saw what I needed and gave it to me.”
“And what was that?”
“Freedom from the men who believed that they could own another person merely because they had employed them, or married them.”
She froze at a low cry, and Andrew saw Lady Arabella staring at them, wide eyed.
“Oh, Mrs. Smith,” she whispered. “I did not know…” She glanced toward Florrie. “Your poor child. Doessheknow?”
“That she came from…” Loveday hesitated, unable to voice it.
Rape.
An act of violence undertaken by only the most depraved of beasts—and if it bore fruit, that fruit was deemed to be rotten, fetid, beyond salvation.
“Sweet heaven…” Andrew closed his eyes, but he was unable to deny that which he knew to be true.
Loveday Smith had not given herself to her master, nor had she been seduced. She had suffered an act of violence and violation.
Deep down, the whole of Sandcombe knew it to be true as well, and the whole of Sandcombe had turned a blind eye.
Except one. An outsider, a misfit, who, rather thanpreachof goodness and salvation and deliverance from evil, had been the only soul in the village to show what goodness truly was, and to effect that deliverance for those who needed it.
Etty.
Who could not help but love and admire such a woman who had defied the laws of Society—of the land—and followed a different law? That of right and wrong?
“Oh, Etty…” he whispered.
“Do you blame her for what she did—for saving us?” Loveday asked. “Is that why she was so distressed earlier?”
“No,” Andrew said. “I don’t blame her. I admire and love her.”
“Mrs. Smith,” Lady Arabella said gently, “I think perhaps you should see if Miss Juliette needs anything, then you must retire yourself.” She glanced toward Andrew, her eyes darkening. “I think I now understand what discomposed my friend today.”
“But the children, Lady Arabella…” Loveday protested.
“I’llsee to it that the children are tended to.”
Loveday nodded and slipped out of the room.
“Have you given her a home here?” Andrew asked.
“A home and a position,” Lady Arabella replied. “But rest assured that we are not in the habit of exploiting the servants for our own gratification.”
