"My uncle has a penchant for the fruit of the vine. If I were to suggest—"
"Oh, I see. You somehow imply he was, um, under the influence of the fruit at the time?"
"Yes, that might work."
Izzy nodded. "I like it."
Charles laughed.
Chapter Five
Izzy ran until her legs nearly gave out. Her breath came in ragged gasps, burning her throat and lungs. Why was her father chasing her again? Why couldn't he leave her alone? He grabbed her arm and yanked her back toward him, digging his grimy fingers into her flesh. She smelled the liquor on his breath, strong and sour. Closing her eyes, Izzy clenched her teeth, knowing what came next.
The first blow was to her left cheek. Pain shot through her skin to the bone. The second blow to her chin rattled her lower teeth. As the third punch struck her left temple, she crumpled to the ground. Her head pounded and her face throbbed.
Her father stood over her, smashing the fingers of her left hand under his shoe. "That will teach you to talk back to me, girlie. Just remember who's boss around here. Girls ain't no good for nothin' besides doing what a man tells them. Got it?"
Izzy nodded, closed her eyes, and curled into a ball. Hatred washed over her like hot lava from an angry volcano. One of these days he'd be sorry. One of these days she'd leave home and never look back, and she wouldn't have to do his bidding anymore. No man would ever control her again.
She'd be free…
Izzy gasped and sat up in bed. Her heart pumped like a racehorse in the lead. She reached up to push her hair out of her eyes. When she pulled back her hand, sweat covered her fingers. It had been a while since she'd had a nightmare about her father's abuse. Why was she having one now? Did being here in a time where woman's thoughts and values didn't matter as much prompt her mind to think of that awful time in her life?
After she pulled back the thick covers, she scooted until her legs hung over the edge of the bed. No, she wasn't going to ever be that person again. Izzy was her own woman and would treasure her independence. No man was going to take it from her.
A soft knock sounded on her door. Izzy could picture Sarah standing in the hall with a breakfast tray, darting glances behind her to make sure no one saw her.
"Come in."
The solid wood door opened with its usual squeak. It was a wonder no one ever came to investigate why people were entering a bedroom that was supposedly unoccupied. Maybe it was assumed a maid was cleaning it? Either way, Izzy's nerve endings tingled each time she or Sarah went in or out of the room. Was it only a matter of time until Izzy was discovered?
Sarah slipped in, closing the door with her free hand.
Izzy stood up and walked to a small table that sat in the corner. Taking a seat on an uncomfortable wooden chair, she waited while Sarah placed the tray on the table. The maid curtsied and excused herself from the room.
Izzy sighed, amazed at how quickly she and Sarah had gotten into their morning routine. It almost seemed as if they'd always done it. Could Izzy get used to living like this? Some parts of staying here were nice, especially when she got to spend time with Charles. He stirred something in her that she hadn't even realized was there. Thoughts of touching him made her blush. Daydreams of kissing him had led her to distraction more than once. Even thinking about sitting with him, talking about books or differences in their cultures brought a smile to her lips. They talked so easily and seemed to have the same interests in reading about time travel and adventure.
No. She wouldn't allow herself to be lulled into a soft, easy life where a man held the reins and called the shots. Izzy needed to be with someone who'd let her be an equal partner in his life and decisions.
Could Charles ever be that man? Would she be able to stay here if he weren't?
After finishing her breakfast, Izzy stood and walked to the large mirror over the dresser. The sight of her reflection in a long white nightgown no longer startled her. Wearing the long dresses didn't bother her as much as it would have only a few days ago. Could a person adapt to something so different so quickly?
She shrugged. Her time here was limited anyway, if she could figure out how to go back. That is, if she went back. Her indecision confused her. What had happened to the single-minded girl who wanted independence above all else? Surely Charles was the answer to that. He was the only man she'd ever met whom she could imagine changing her life for. But could she?
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