The Hand-Off
The cemetery was beautiful. Flowers and plants in bloom were everywhere Ella looked. The sky was a brilliant blue, and it didn’t quite seem to go with the melancholy mood of the occasion. The casket they were about to lower into the ground contained the body of one of the most wonderful people she’d ever known. How dare the sky be anything but gray?
Hundreds of people were there. Tim’s parents had decided to allow anyone who wanted to come to do so. Ella thought it was an odd choice, but who was she to argue with them?
It had been two days since she’d last spoken to Rome. Bart had called her to tell her that he hadn’t been at Mark’s graveside service, and he was worried about him, too. No one answered his phone when she called, and Bart hadn’t seen any lights in his bedroom at his parents’ house at all.
She had a feeling he was gone, that his dad had taken him to Italy already. Which meant it was likely in her best interest to get to France as soon as her dad would take her there. She knew he’d already filed for the annulment, so at the moment, she wasn’t even sure if she was legally still Rome’s wife--not that she cared what the law said. She knew the truth. She would always be Rome’s wife, regardless of what the law said.
Mary was standing on one side of her, her parents on the other, even though they weren’t fond of the fired maid. Ella knew there were men all over the perimeter of the cemetery in case she decided to run. But she had no reason to do that. She needed to get to Europe anyway. Wouldn’t it make sense for her to let her father get there?
Not that it would be easy to get away from her father once she got to Europe either. Especially if he forced her to marry Henry. She’d considered trying to convince Henry that he shouldn’t go through with it, that she didn’t want to marry him, and it made no sense for him to marry a woman who didn’t want to be his wife when he could find so many other women who would be honored to have the chance, but she wasn’t sure if it was worth the effort.
“Hide this.”
The feel of someone’s hand brushing hers, shoving something into it and the harsh whisper in her ear had Ella’s head spinning around, but he was gone almost as quickly as he’d been there.
She didn’t dare look down to see what it was but from the feel of it, she could tell it was a vial of some sort. Now who would be shoving a vial into her hand in the middle of a funeral? She turned to look at the retreating figure but couldn’t tell who he was.
As soon as she got a chance, Ella dropped the vial down the top of her dress. Since she had no pockets or bag, there was no other choice. She had to trust that whoever had slipped it to her had her best interest at heart, even if she had no idea who it was. She had a feeling, though, that it was Bart, and she wouldn’t be surprised at all if he called her later to tell her what it was and what it was for. There weren’t many people in this world she could trust at the moment, but he was one of them.
The service ended, and Ella said goodbye to Mary, staying with her father, stepmother, and bawling stepsisters, heading for the limo to take her back to her prison at her father’s house until he was ready to move her to a new prison in France, unless this vial proved to be a viable alternative.
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