Opal burst into the house in a sodden heap of mud and dejection. She dripped upon the floor she had just scrubbed, clods of ruddy clay clinging to her hem. Why? Why must she always hold on to hope when doing so only led her to pain? Hope the war wouldn’t come, hope Daddy would return home, hope that there would be a light in this endless swarm of loss and misery.
All of it pointless.
“Opal!” Mama screeched, hurrying toward her. “What has happened?”
“The storm….” As though in confirmation of her words, the house shook with a crack of thunder.
“And you went out in it?” Mama stopped in front of her, fingers working at the fabric at the base of her throat. “Did you fall?”
Opal merely bobbed her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, now, let’s just get you cleaned up. I’ll have Mr. Stuart stoke a fire and get some water heated for you for a bath.”
He was likely already gone, but she didn’t have the energy to say so.
“What’s this?” Mr. Weir appeared out from the parlor, his eyes growing wide.
“Why is he still here?” Opal whispered through clenched teeth.
Mama turned her back to the carpetbagger, hiding some of Opal’s condition behind her own frame. “I couldn’t send him on his way in the storm. That would be ill mannered.”
Opal began to sputter, but then clenched her teeth even tighter. What did it matter, anyway? She moved to step around Mama and head toward the stairs, trying to hold on to at least a fraction of her dignity.
“Miss Martin, is this sort of behavior common for you?” The corners of Mr. Weir’s mouth bent under the weight of his disapproval.
Did she normally go about sliding in the mud like a pig in its sty? Anger boiled in her stomach, released in the snap of a single word. “No.”
He seemed relieved, falling in step beside her as she tromped to the stairs. “Good then. I can’t have my wife acting in such an inappropriate manner. It is my hope that I will eventually be able to take you to Washington.”
Opal jerked to a halt. “Excuse me?”
The smile that twisted his lips looked equal parts condescending and placating. “I’m sure there are things that women do out here in the country that seem normal to you, but understand those things wouldn’t be acceptable in fine society. But don’t worry, I will teach you.” His voice deepened, and his lecherous gaze roaming over the sodden dress clinging to her every curve caused her insides to constrict. “Indeed, I have lots of things to teach you.”
Standing in a ruined dress, her heart raw and her senses flailing, Opal couldn’t bring herself to proffer politeness, nor could she hide her true thoughts any longer. She took a step toward him, her pulse pounding. Somewhere in the peripheral of her senses, she heard Mama’s gasp, heard her speak something, but Opal ignored her.
“Let us make one thing very clear. I will never consent to marry a greedy opportunist like you. I’ll not be your housekeeper or your pet.” Her rage gathered with every word, and she stepped closer to him, poking him in the chest.
He gaped at her, his complexion reddening with every breath he drew through his pointy nose. Something dangerous sparked in his eyes, warning her not to press further. But the words were already sharpened on her tongue and flew out to flay him.
“And I will never warm your bed!”
His nostril’s flared, and in that moment, the mask of the friendly, simple dandy fell away. His eyes bulged and before she could step back, he grabbed her arm.
“How dare you speak to me that way, you wretched little urchin.”
Mama yelped. “Unhand her!”
Mr. Weir hauled Opal against him, his eyes boring into hers. “You will do everything I tell you to do, or I will see to it that you and your vexatious mother are left to beg for scraps.”
Opal struggled to free herself from his grasp, but he sank his fingers into her skin. Mama pulled at his arm, begging for him to let her go. Mr. Weir simply swung out his free arm and batted her away as though Mama were nothing more than an irksome fly.
He sneered. “Now, I grow tired of these games.”
“Please, just give us the money for the house and we will be gone from here.”
Opal had never heard such terror in her mother’s voice, and it turned her blood cold.
Mr. Weir glanced at her, and then as suddenly as he had turned into a terror, the fire drained from his eyes and he dropped Opal’s arm. She rubbed at the sore place, biting her lip.
He shook his head. “Now why did you have to go and make me do that?”
She swallowed hard, glancing at Mama. Mama had gone completely pale, and looked as though she were about to faint. Opal took a small step back. This man was dangerous.
“Forgive me,” she squeaked, trying to find a modicum of strength to free them from this madman’s wrath. “I…I was merely distraught after falling in the mud, and humiliated that you had to see me in such a despicable state. I…didn’t mean it.” Her voice quivered, but it only seemed to help him swallow the words.
He sighed. “I understand. But we will not let ourselves get in the mud again, now will we?”
She shook her head, grasping the stair rail.
“That’s good then. And I shall forgive you this once for speaking to me in such a manner. But now we know not to speak that way ever again, don’t we?”
Opal lowered her eyes. “Yes.”
He placed a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. “Do not fret, I said I forgive you. We can put it behind us now.”
She held his gaze, afraid to breathe until he finally removed his touch.
His eyes roamed down her dress. “You need to throw that one away.”
“All right.”
He smiled, his shoulders relaxing. “There now. See, isn’t that better?”
She stared at him, willing her features to remain smooth even as he took a step closer, only a hand’s breadth away. “How about I find you another gown? Something more fitting for you to be seen with me in?”
“I….” She glanced at Mama, who had begun fanning herself. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”
He reached up and grasped her shoulder, and it took all of her willpower not to flinch. “I must tend to some business, but it shouldn’t take long. When I return, I expect your mother to have her affairs in order and her things packed. You should prepare yourself for the wedding and be sure the master chamber is in order. Once we have said our vows, we will send Mrs. Martin off with a stipend and a train ticket to Massachusetts.”
Opal pressed her lips together and gave a small nod. He squeezed her shoulder and then stepped back. “Good. Then I shall see you again soon, my dear.”
Without bothering to bid Mama goodbye, he fetched his hat and opened the front door. The rain had slackened to a drizzle, and though he cursed it, he stepped out of the house. As soon as the door latch clicked, Mama scurried to it and turned the lock.
Then she collapsed into a heap on the floor.