She stared.
He continued.
“And your mother will discover exactly how expensive your defiance has become.”
The threat struck harder than anything else.
Elizabeth knew her mother's financial dependence.
Her father controlled the estate, household accounts, and most of the property.
Her mother's family possessed little money.
If Edward chose to punish her, he had the means.
Elizabeth whispered, “You wouldn't.”
He looked toward the fireplace.
“Don't test me.”
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then he rang for a servant.
The butler appeared.
“Sir?”
The judge didn't look toward Elizabeth.
“Prepare a notice for the courthouse and the household staff.”
The butler hesitated.
“What kind of notice?”
The judge smiled.
“My daughter is to be married within the week. I'll choose the groom.”
Elizabeth felt her heart stop.
The butler's expression changed.
But he bowed.
“Yes, sir.”
The judge finally turned toward his daughter.
“You wanted freedom, Elizabeth.”
His voice was soft.
Almost pleasant.
“Now you'll discover what freedom costs.”
She backed toward the door.
Her eyes filled.
He raised his glass.
“Good evening.”
Elizabeth fled the library.
And as she hurried upstairs, she had no idea that a quiet stable hand standing outside the service entrance had heard enough of the conversation to understand what was coming.
Daniel Carter.
A man the judge considered almost invisible.
A man who had spent six months repairing fences, cleaning stalls, and hauling water for the Hawthorne estate.
A man who owned little more than a battered saddle, a small cabin, and a leather satchel containing papers he guarded more carefully than anything else.
He watched Elizabeth disappear upstairs.
Then looked toward the library window.
His jaw tightened.
He hadn't come to Silver Creek looking for a wife.
He had come looking for justice.
And Judge Hawthorne was about to make the most dangerous mistake of his life.
Daniel Carter had learned to make himself unremarkable.