CHAPTER EIGHT
Sitting behind the ornamental screen, Rosanna bit back a scream.
She dug her fingers into her palms so hard that the nails almost broke her skin.
How dare Sir Walter speak like that?
Arrange their marriage without her consent. It was ridiculous. No one could be forced to marry against their will, surely?
But at the back of her mind, she felt a flicker of fear and doubt.
He was so ruthless, so strong. What if he drugged her with laudanum and she woke to find herself Lady Fenwick? She had read stories of girls being spirited off to Arabian countries as part of what she knew was called ‘the white slave trade’.
How easy it would be for Sir Walter to arrange something similar to happen to her once she left the protection of Melton Castle and returned home to Donnington Hall
