The summer night air was warm, and it was a cloudless, starry night, but the moon was no more than a sliver. The light from the Abbey did not spill as far as it seemed to when she was outside with Robert and Carson and a host of others seeing dinner guests off for the night. But it was peaceful and silent, and she walked farther and farther from the house's glow.
Squish. She froze. She was walking along the gravel path away from the Abbey, but there was a sudden noise in the slightly muddy grass. Was Isis out here?
She turned and squinted in the dark. There was a dark shape walking towards her, far bigger than the dog. "Hello?"
A footman? Or a gardener? She hoped desperately to hear Barrow or Carson or another familiar voice call out, "Your Ladyship?"
But instead, she heard, "Cora." Simon Bricker's voice was low and very certain.
"Mr. Bricker. What are you doing outside at this hour?"
"Accompanying you, Cora. A lady shouldn't be outside alone at night." He stepped onto the path between her and the Abbey.
"I assure you, I'm perfectly all right. I'm on my way back inside." She hadn't been, but she was now. She did not want to admit it to herself, but it made her very nervous to be out here alone with him.
But he did not budge. "I know you're not happy, Cora. No one would be, in a marriage like yours."
"It's no affair of yours, but I'm quite happy. Now, I'm going back inside."
"No, not just yet."
Why would he not move? Her stomach clenched oddly, and she made to move around him.
"No." He grabbed her arm, and her eyes snapped up to meet his.
"Mr. Bricker—" But the final syllable had barely left her lips before his were smashed against them.