Davinah's POV
I woke up earlier than I thought I would. I suppose it was this infuriating thing inside of me that craves vengeance over what happened to Herbert.
I took a peek at her in the room next to mine. She looked like a corpse. Her long blonde hair looked dull and her skin was awful. She shall be fine; the doctors said. All Herbert needs are plentiful rest and enough vitamins and ointments to suppress her pains.
As I touched her forehead, I felt the heat from her fever. My poor Herbert. My friend. "I promise you that I will make them pay for what they did to you," I whispered, planting a kiss on her cheek. She's seventeen years old; three years younger than I. When she was brought to us, I promised her mother that I'd look out for her.
I went back to my room to get dressed. I wore a white chiffon blouse under a cream and floral corset, and a satin and tulle skirt that reached my ankles. I put my boots on and grabbed my bag. I was ready to leave when Eda stopped me.
"Grandmother," I greeted. "You're up early."
"Where are you off to?" she questioned, circling me. "You're dressed casually; that you never do unless you're going to do something reckless."
"Mama," I say, trying to explain.
She shook her head, handing me a red velvet cloak. "Take it," she says, "You can't let people know that you're the murderer if you dare decide to kill whoever it is that harmed your friend."
"Thank you," I say, putting it on.
"Before you leave, you must know that your mother left you a message," she says, "I already replied on your behalf, but you must know that I couldn't get you out of attending the Viscount's party tonight."
"The Viscount?" I asked.
"Vincent," she clarifies, "Your ex."
I screamed internally. "Thank you grandmother," I say, "I shall be off then." With that said, I hurried to my horse, Pearl, and rode like there was no tomorrow. With every step we took, I felt my heart beat faster and louder. I clutched onto my chest. What is this feeling? Rage? I shook it off upon my arrival. I wasn't surprised at all to be the only person there.
I opened the door, meeting his gaze. He thinks he's cute with his cheeky grin and bright blue eyes. I shall think not.
"Have we met before?" he asked sarcastically.
My eyebrow raised itself. "Let's skip the bullshit, shall we? Why did you rob my house and attack Herbert?" I folded my arms over my chest, watching him in disbelief. He had the audacity to snicker and grin after what he did to me and Herbert.
"First of all, I do not feel threatened," he says, "Second of all, young miss, you don't need all that luxury. Others need it more; third of all, George struck Herbert in self-defense after she cut his arm; fourth, you skip the bullshit."
I couldn't believe my ears. But then again, what did I expect? How dare he call me a young miss? I am a lady, yes, but to be called a young miss in such a mocking tone is just as bad as being called a whore! I can't believe the audacity of this man! "Why is your head not in a pike yet; I don't know why. But it will be on one soon!"
He took out a pistol from his belt and said, "Listen, fancy young woman, I am not scared of you. I don't feel threatened by you or your mother. While you and your mother sip champagne watching your poor slaves clean your probably stinking feet, we actually tried to help these poor souls. Without helping the people directly, but helping them in the long run."
I rolled my eyes. This man helping the poor? A man like him? After everything he's done up to this moment, does he really think I will believe him?
"You listen here. I am not afraid of you, sir," I say, walking closer.
