I would not object, not at that moment. He was right and I’d been aptly put in my place.
We slept again, until hunger was gnawing real inside my belly. Cook had left our breakfast at the door and I ran for it before we could start making love again.
“Well, now,” Harrison announced after breakfast. “Time for you to write down everything that happened in a letter for Preston.”
“No!” I flatly disagreed.
“Oh, yes,” he said firmly, covering my hand with his and holding it tightly. His wishes were written in stone as unyielding as his grip on me. “If there is any guilt in you at all, absolving it with a good clean confession will clear your soul.”
“But…”
“Hush! You obey now, no more objections.”
I had no other choice.
My loving husband,
Harrison ordered me to write concerning the d
