SHACKLES

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I descended the staircase with deliberate grace, each step echoing confidence and control. Upon entering the dining hall, Father rose, as though intending to greet me, only to hesitate and resume his seat without a word. The gesture, half-formed and quickly abandoned, drew a subtle arch of my brow.

I took my place — the only remaining seat at the far end of the long dining table.

The maids moved with quiet urgency, laying out the morning meal. Before me was placed a fine selection: poached eggs on buttered toast, crisp bacon, grilled lamb’s kidney, warm English muffins, a pot of strong tea, and a glass of fresh milk — all arranged with care upon delicate china.

Without pause, I began to eat.

A sudden cough broke the silence. I glanced up to find that no one else had touched their plate. I set down my fork and said, with a faint smirk, “Is the food poisoned?”

Father’s wife, Eloise, answered coolly, “No. But we offer our prayers before partaking of any meal.”

I replied without lifting my gaze, “I did pray — silently. I trust that is sufficient.” And I returned to my breakfast.

Father inquired after Aunt Mia and the journey from Spitalfields, but I gave him little more than a nod. I cared little for pleasantries. I ate swiftly, aware of Eloise’s eyes upon me — cold, judgmental. I met her gaze and raised my brow, daring her to speak. She did not.

I had nearly forgotten the presence of my step-siblings, quiet and observant at the table. As I placed my cutlery down and dabbed at my lips with the napkin, Father spoke again.

“What has happened to your hair?”

I looked at him, unfazed. “I wondered when you would notice. I was dreadfully bored, so I thought to try something different.” I met his gaze squarely. “Do you not approve?”

“I do not,” he said curtly. “It reflects poorly on our family.”

“Ah,” I replied, “perhaps it reminds you of Mother.”

He swallowed hard but said nothing. I continued, calm and deliberate, “Do not worry, Father. I shall return it to its former state — anything to preserve your precious reputation.”

I rose from my seat. “If you’ll excuse me.”

And without awaiting permission, I turned and left the hall, my footsteps echoing behind me.