CHAPTER ONE
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1858Cecilia ran as hard as her legs would take her. If only she could only reach the house and run up the stairs before Sir Stewart caught her. She could hear him now, puffing and gasping as he chased her through the garden. He was getting close, but too much alcohol and rich food had left him out of condition. She might still escape.
But as she reached the trees she stumbled and then he was upon her, grabbing her arms and pulling her against him.
“Why do you run away from me?” he demanded, breathing beer fumes over her.
“Because I cannot bear the sight of you,” she cried, frantically turning her head away.
She felt sick with disgust, not only at the smell of the man, but at the sight of him too. His red, fleshy face was loathsome, but more loathsome still was his heavy
