Chapter 7

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She frowned at her hands; she had slapped her 'husband'. The controlling bastard, she had slapped him hard. His face, as she watched him lying on the floor, was actually amusing and a different emotion for once. He was cradling his cheek. His blond hair was now dishevelled, she almost burst out laughing.

Then, she sighed, she realised he would punish her. She wouldn’t show him her fear but looked at him one last time and smiled. Turning she left the room her dress swishing out the chapel.

She walked up the stairs, slightly in awe and slightly waiting for running footsteps and a good beating. She saw the master bedroom, she recognised it, well she assumed it was and a butler confirmed it.

"Your room countess," The butler bowed as she entered the room and gently shut the door. Jacqueline looked around the room. Lavishly dressed there was a dark crimson bedspread on a large four poster bed, she sat on it.

The room was everything but homely, she wished an embodied pillow here, a painting there, a carpet rug. She missed her drawings at home. Not pictures of people, but things she imagined.

No time to think of home, she scolded herself and continued looking at her new home, her new room. A fire roared lightly, since it was winter it would be freezing otherwise.

A book was on his table side. She flicked through it.

At least having the honour of being allowed to read Alex had gained permission for him to teach her. It was a different story, not the father hoping for an educated daughter to show off, but the father wanting to make profit. Her father had agreed hoping to use her as a letter writer but she had supposedly failed him and in return received three days of no food, no water.

She heard murmuring and she waited looking through the book before getting bored. Jacqueline snapped the book shut and rose off the bed, there was nothing else in the room. Frowning she looked at the door and went to open it. "My lady, you cannot leave, his lordships orders." The butler stated blocking her exit.

Who on earth does he think he is? He had stripped everything from her and now was trying to lock her in her room. She enquired for a name. "Jeffery, please tell my husband I pray for his pardon and wish some privacy to do it." The butler nodded.

"As you wish, my lady," He gently shut the door, as she pretend to sink lower onto the floor.

Rolling her eyes at the irony of it Jacqueline got up as soon as it shut. He had forced her to be locked in a room and she had to wait for his mood. She needed his permission to leave the room that she had been imprisoned in, by him. After he was being the asshole and not even allowing her out of this marriage as he had signed with his father, for both of them.

Once the door was one hundred per cent closed, she opened the balcony door, it was a lovely balcony and she could now see where she was, it was perfect. They were on the second floor. Not too high a jump and use to it from meeting Anthony frequently outside, she landed with minimal effort outside.

Wrapping her cloak tightly, she headed for freedom or at least some privacy. This bastard thought he was smart. Well she was getting a drink and there's nothing he can do about it. If she could get into her cups maybe he would divorce her. And she would have a laugh beforehand.

Under His Watch {16th Century Valois-Orléans-Angoulême Romance]Where stories live. Discover now