CHAPTER EIGHT
Genevieve slipped from her husband’s rooms by the first light of dawn, careful not to wake him and fearing what might happen if she did. At the very least, he would drag her back to bed to demand of her everything that he seemed to think was his right now that she was his wife. More likely, if he guessed where she was going, he would find some way to hurt her even more.
She still had to do this.
The trick to it was to make it appear that she was doing nothing that she shouldn’t. That meant Genevieve dressing as perfectly and as quietly as she could, seeking to look every inch the lord’s lady. It meant striding along the corridors rather than sidling, and walking up to the dungeons with the kind of determination that so many of the nobles there seemed to possess.
She stopp
