Page 142 of Peasants and Kings
If circumstances had been different, I would’ve been overjoyed. But hearing what Raphael planned to do had my insides cramping.
I was lightheaded and in danger of passing out.
No. I would not be weak. I would not give in to my desire to faint, to mentally check out for just a few minutes.
This wasn’t just about me anymore, and I had to figure out a plan to survive.
I wasn’t physically strong enough to protect my unborn child from Raphael’s malevolent intentions. He’d already beaten me.
If I was still carrying Hadrian’s baby—
“Sterling?” Gisella called. “Sterling, are you all right?”
I pinched my cheeks to give myself some color, wincing at my tender skin. “I’m fine. I just needed a minute.”
When I couldn’t hide any longer, I left the bathroom and met Gisella’s penetrating expression. Her eyes searched my face, trained on the cheek Raphael had hit.
She inhaled a shaky breath. “You can’t go downstairs looking like that.”
“It’s that noticeable?”
She nodded. “Stay here. Let me get you some ice. Hopefully that will take care of it by dinnertime…Papàinvited him to stay for the evening meal.”
I swallowed. “How did he—I mean, were you in the salon when he returned?”
“Yes.”
“How did he look?”
“As though nothing had transpired at all,” she blurted out, her eyes wide.
I let out a choked sob. “He’s a monster.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered brokenly.
“Why areyousorry? It’s not your fault. You didn’t do this.”
She bit her lip as her eyes filled with tears. “We were tentatively engaged. I was too young to marry him, and then you…”
“Showed up out of the blue.” I dragged the younger girl into my arms and held her tightly. My mother hadn’t been able to protect me from the Foscari, and I might not be able to protect my unborn child from them either. But at least I was able to protect this sweet, innocent girl from marrying a sadist.
After a moment, she pulled away and swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Let me go get you that ice.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Gisella and I spent the afternoon holed up in my room. Her company was a welcome distraction from my disorderly thoughts and current situation. No one came looking for us until it was cocktail hour. A servant knocked on my door and told us our presence was required downstairs.
“Gisella,” I said to her before we left the sanctuary of my bedroom. “Do me a favor.”
“What?” she asked, peering at me with her golden-brown, fawn-like eyes.
“Keep your distance from me, okay? I don’t want to give Raphael any reason to—I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me. Do you understand?”
Nodding, she replied, “I understand.”
“How’s my cheek?” I asked her.
“Hardly noticeable.”
