"Are you expecting someone?" I whisper.
Benedict shakes his head. "But it's probably one of my friends asking if I want to play tennis. I'll go tell them no."
He hands me his plate and shuffles off the bed.
I bite my bottom lip, trying not to let my nerves show on my face. He doesn't need to know how on edge I am about the situation.
Benedict flashes me a reassuring smile before he opens the door. "Can I help you?" he asks.
I can't see who is on the other side, as he's only opened it a small amount. I'm grateful for that. I'm not wearing very much, and I don't want anyone to see me like this other than the man I love.
Wow. Love. I haven't put a name to how I'm feeling until now. But it's so obvious now.
The door slams open, and Benedict stumbles back. I give a small shriek.
"Catherine."
My eyes widen and fear floods my entire body as I recognise the voice of the last person I want in the room given the situation.
"Father," I whisper.
"How dare you," he seethes.
Mother steps into the room behind me. Ah. So I guess she was fishing yesterday. Oh no, not yesterday. The day before.
She doesn't say anything to me, just stares at me with disappointment in her eyes.
"Get her dressed," Father demands, then turns his back.
Mother takes a step towards me, but I don't move.
"Leave her alone," Benedict says firmly. "She's not doing anything wrong."
"She's brought dishonour to our family," Father says, a deep growl in his throat.
"She's done no such thing. We're married," Benedict lies.
Father barks out a laugh, as Mother flashes me a disappointed look and picks up my dress. She gestures for me to stand.
I meet Benedict's gaze, not knowing what to do. Should I give in to my parents? Or should I stand my ground? A pained expression rests on his face, as if he doesn't know what the true answer is.
"I don't want to," I say, finding my voice.
"You're going to," Father barks. "Or I will parade you through the den naked."
"You will do no such thing," Benedict says, stepping forward.
Father reacts instantly, lashing out with one of his fists and knocking Benedict to the ground. He hits his head on the wall.
A shriek escapes me, and I only just manage to repress the urge to run over to him. Father's always been cold, but I didn't think he was cruel too. Now I'm seeing a completely different side to him.
"Get her dressed," he repeats, still not turning to look at me. I'm glad for that, I don't think I could bear the idea of Father seeing me right now.
Mother nods, then gestures for me to stand.
At a loss for what else to do, I stand. My dress is back on within moments, albeit much more wrinkled than before I came to Benedict's rooms.
"Come," Father insists.
Benedict groans, and I take a step towards him.
"No." Father's hand clamps around my wrist. "You're not to go to him."
"But he's hurt." I try to pull away, no longer caring about Father's anger. What does it matter? He's not going to let me off lightly.
Benedict's eyes flutter open, but I can sense he's still dazed from hitting his head. My heart longs to go to him, but Father's hold is too strong.
"Where are you taking me?" Benedict asks, each word pained.
Father's lips twist into a harsh smile. "Nowhere you'll be able to follow."
My gaze catches onto Benedict's, and the fear I'm certain is on my own face registers on his.
He tries to get to his feet, but falls back down. Father must have done more damage than I thought. "I'll find you," he vows.
"I know," I whisper.
Father laughs bitterly. "That won't be happening."
He pulls me from the room without even letting me say goodbye. I struggle against his hold, but it's no good. He's a large man, and strong with age. I'm sure he's probably drunk more recently than me too.
It only takes a few twists of the corridors for me to realise we're not heading back to our chambers. I want to ask where we're going instead, but I don't think he'll answer me.
Eventually, we find ourselves in front of the huge double doors which serve as an entrance to the den. I've never seen them open before. Though I suspect I'm going to.
"What's happening?" I ask Mother, who has been following along behind us without saying a word.
Something more than anger lingers in her eyes. Perhaps it's regret, though I have no way of telling without being able to have a conversation.
"You've chosen to ignore what I said was best for you. Therefore you are no daughter of mine," Father says. "Be grateful night has fallen."
It takes me a moment to understand what he means.
"You're casting me out?" I whisper, not fully believing he's going to do this.
"We can have other children." He nods to the men on each side of the double doors.
The loud thunk reverberates through me, as if it knows what it means. Cool air ruffles my hair and clothing.
I want to ask what's happening, but I know the answer. But that isn't going to make it any easier to deal with.
Father marches me outside, then throws me to the ground. "You're no longer a daughter of mine."
He retreats inside to where Mother is waiting. The doors thud closed once more, leaving me outside the den.
A tear splashes to the ground beside me. What am I going to do now? I have no home, no money, no access to blood, and I'm away from the man I love.
Father's plan is probably for me to end up dead as soon as the sun rises. But I'm not going to play to his tune. Benedict promised he'll find me, and I'm sure he'll stick to that. I simply have to stay safe until then. It's going to be tough, but I'm not the weakling Father thinks I am.
One day, I'll find my love again.
***