Freedom • Lord Tewksbury

EIGHT

The place that Tewksbury had gotten was much nicer than the room Enola and Catherine had gotten. It was in a better neighborhood, the floorboards were entirely intact, there was no dust, or holes, or stains, and best of all no mice.

"This is quite lovely," Catherine commented as she looked around.

"Thank you," Tewksbury replied, "I don't have another bed, so you can take it, and I'll sleep on the floor."

"Nonsense, this is your room, I don't mind sleeping on the floor," Catherine responded.

"Absolutely not. I will not allow you to do so. You're taking the bed, and that's final." Catherine pursed her lips and nodded, but if Tewksbury truly felt so strongly about her sleeping on the bed, she wouldn't fight it.

"Alright."

Tewksbury smiled at her, and sighed.

"Are you hungry at all? I have a few leftover biscuits from my breakfast this morning," he offered.

"I'm quite alright, thank you thought," she responded, moving over to sit in the chair that was in the corner of the room. They sat in silence for a bit longer before Tewksbury spoke.

"May I ask a question?"

"I believe you just did," Catherine teased. Tewksbury pursed his lips together, and shook his head. "Sorry, go ahead."

"What did Enola mean when she said that she didn't want to fathom what your father will do if you are to return home?" He asked. Catherine's face fell, and she sighed. "I'm sorry, I don't want to pry. If you're uncomfortable, please don't feel obligated to tell me anything."

"No, it's quite alright. It's just that I haven't thought about it since I ran from home," Catherine told him.

"Why did you run?"

"Because I was going to be trapped in a life that I did not want. I was scared that if I stayed, and allowed myself to listen to my father's demands, I would have hated every single day of the rest of my life. My father wanted me to marry for advantage, but it would not have been for my advantage, it would have been for his."

"How so?"

"My father had it all planned out. I was to be married off to someone with a title. It didn't matter what the title was, as long as it was a title. That was his only requirement. One night I heard him discussing the man he had found for me with my mother. Apparently he was twenty years older than me, but he was 'perfect' because he was a Baron. And that was not the husband I want, nor the life I want, so I ran."

"And what is it that you want?" Tewksbury asked, his gaze never wavering from her face.

"I want to marry for love," she answered immediately. "I do not care if the man has money, land, or a title, as long as he loves me and acts accordingly."

"So if he had a title, you wouldn't marry him?"

"That's not what I meant. I meant that I don't particularly care if he has a title or not. If the man I love is titled, then that's wonderful. If he doesn't, that's wonderful as well. All I ask is that he loves me."

Tewksbury nodded in thought, staring at her intently. His gaze making her blush, and look down at her hands.

"Do you think your father is searching for you?" Tewksbury asked after a moment.

"It is most likely. Although I don't know how long he will continue the search for. If he is so desperate for power, he may search forever. Or perhaps he'll just force my mother to give birth to another child, and put them through everything, all over again."