Ravenna was shoved into the carriage, and a cloth was stuffed in her mouth. Peter Jones tied her hands behind her back with a strip of linen. The wealthier man heaved himself into the carriage behind him, shut the door, and rapped on the window as a sign to leave.
"Go to Graenwood Inn!," Peter shouted to the coachman. He turned to Ravenna, who was curled in the corner of the carriage. "So, Miss Hawthorne, you decide you don't have time for me?" Peter hissed in her ear. "I decide when you have time for me. Not you. Do you understand?"
Ravenna stared back in horror, unable to say anything with the cloth in her mouth. Her wide, light brown eyes brimmed with tears. She didn't want to go to Graenwood. She wanted to be out of this carriage, away from this man, and back in her infirmary with Anne and Teresa. "Dear Ruler," she thought. "The rumors about Peter and his wife must be true."
Peter was unsatisfied with her lack of response. She was supposed to nod that she understood. He was the man. She was the woman; she should be so lucky that someone of his wealth was interested in a poor woman with nothing to offer him. He leaned closer to her ear. "I said, do you understand?"
Ravenna began to cry. That was the wrong answer too. Peter slapped her across the face. "You thought spending the afternoon with that dirty miller would be okay? Over myself? He can't offer you a quarter of the things that I can. What a stupid woman! If I had been around when I found out you accepted that courting offer from that...Samuel..." Peter spit Samuel's name as if it tasted terrible. "I would have dragged you back to my home by your hair."
As if to make his point, Peter grabbed a fistful of Ravenna's black hair, still tied back in its white ribbon from her afternoon with Samuel. She cried out around the cloth, and Peter slapped her again. Ravenna's cheeks burned red with shame, embarrassment, and pain. "You don't seem to understand, Miss Hawthorne. You are mine to do with as I please."
Ravenna panicked much more than she was when she was first grabbed at the cottage. What did he mean, she was his?
The carriage continued, but things went dark as Peter Jones tied another strip of cloth around Ravenna's eyes. She was left in the dark about where she was and what, if anything, Peter would do next.
Ravenna could not relax. She could not speak; she could not see. Peter Jones had left her on the carriage floor, and he had fallen asleep on the bench above her. The rocking and bouncing of the carriage slowed and then stopped.
"Sire!" an unfamiliar voice shouted from outside the carriage. Ravenna heard the door open, and the man spoke again. "We have arrived at Graenwood Inn, sire."
Ravenna heard Peter snort, and his clothes rustled as he jolted awake. The carriage shifted as the heavier man left the carriage, shutting the door and leaving Ravenna alone. Where was he going? What was he going to do with her? How long was she going to be tied up? So many questions ran through the young woman's mind, especially the second man's voice. That was not the voice of Peter Jones' coachman; this voice was much rougher and more gravelly.
After fifteen minutes, the carriage opened again. The cloth was ripped from her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. The sky had gone dark; Ravenna had no idea how long it had been since she was dragged from her home. Peter looked her in the eye and began to threaten her.
"Someone of my status cannot be expected to sleep in a carriage. You will come with me to the room in the Inn, and you are to say nothing." A dagger glinted in the lamplight. "If you dare to make a sound, I will carve your pretty face so no other man will ever look your way again. Do you understand?"
Ravenna nodded. She was so scared, and the dagger made her very uneasy. The cloth was still in her mouth, but Peter freed her hands so as not to look suspicious. Ravenna took a deep breath and exited the carriage, being led by Peter as if they were a happily married couple.
Graenwood Inn stood proudly among the average-looking buildings that surrounded it. The other buildings were stone, but the Inn was made of brick, giving it a solid and homey look. Peter pushed the doors open, and the innkeeper greeted him.
"Good evening, Master Jones. The room is prepared just as you asked... dear Ruler, is your wife alright?" The innkeeper seemed concerned, spotting the cloth in Ravenna's mouth.
"Oh, that!" Peter laughed boisterously. "Dear woman of mine, she fell from the carriage and bit her tongue. We're simply trying to stop the bleeding. She will be just fine, won't you dear?"
The dagger blade pressed into Ravenna's back, encouraging her to smile and nod along with the man's lie.
"I will have a housekeeper bring a new cloth for your wife in five minutes. Please be more careful, young lady. As for you, Master Jones, the room is on the far end of the hall to your left. Please ring the bell if you need anything; you are our only guests this evening and will have our utmost attention should you require it."
Peter took the key from the innkeeper and pushed Ravenna along, hiding the dagger from view up his sleeve. "Come dear, we must get some rest, we have traveled a long way!"
Ravenna took slow, heavy steps and walked toward the room. "I need to run," she thought to herself, but the other man's dagger and voice scared her into submission. Who was that man, and where was his usual coachman?
Once in the rented room, Peter waited with Ravenna's hand held firmly in his, the dagger poking out of his sleeve into her wrist. As promised, the innkeeper soon brought the new cloth, thinking he was helping Peter's wife stop the bleeding from her bitten tongue. Peter thanked the innkeeper and said that would be all for the night, dismissing the man and locking the door behind him.
Once they were alone, Peter tied Ravenna's hands back together. He sat her at the end of the bed and looked down at her. His small, greedy eyes looked at her body, which made her feel disgusted. His frog-like smile stretched wide, causing her stomach to turn. She felt like the meat on display at the Canden butcher shop. She squirmed away from him, and he kicked her side. She cried out, muffled by the cloth still in her mouth.
Peter squatted beside Ravenna, stroking her face with his hand as he spoke. "You will stay here at the end of the bed tonight. Don't think of trying anything funny," he said quietly in a menacing tone. "We leave for Nerium tomorrow. Sleep tight. We have a big day ahead of us."
He squinted, looking into Ravenna's golden brown eyes that were large with fear.
"Just to be sure..."
Peter bound a length of cloth around his voluptuous ankle and tied the other end to Ravenna's bound wrists. He tied another cloth around her eyes again. "Good night, Miss Hawthorne," he breathed into her ear.
Ravenna sat on the floor, tied and bound to Peter Jones. She heard the complaint of the bed as the heavier man climbed on top of it. She listened to his breathing slow and turn into snores.
Ravenna allowed herself to cry, breaking her usual composure. "How could someone sleep so soundly with me tied at the end of their bed? Why is he taking me to Nerium? What does he want with me?" Dozens of questions swam in her mind. Her stomach clenched, threatening to make her sick.
Peter rolled over in his sleep, pulling on the strip of cloth tied between his ankle and her wrists. She was drawn closer to the bed and forced into a more uncomfortable position. She squeezed her eyes shut behind the cloth, gritting her teeth. The muscles in her back spasmed, and her shoulders ached from being pulled forward.
"Dear Ruler, please allow me to go free. I'm so scared. I just want to go home. I wish to know that Teresa is okay and her baby is safe. I wish to end Grandmother's worry. Please, Ruler, please allow me to go free."
The seconds dragged into minutes, and the minutes dragged into hours. Ravenna could hear the snores from Peter and the sound of crickets outside. She did not sleep. Ravenna was exhausted but terrified.
Peter woke early in the morning, and his movements threw Ravenna to the floor as he moved his leg. He grunted, dismissing her cry as she was flung to the ground from sitting. She lay on the ground, her body forced to the floor by the rope binding her to Peter. Grunting in an annoyed manner as if Ravenna was burdensome to him, Peter untied his ankle from her wrists and untied her blindfold. He looked into her eyes, puffy from tears and lack of sleep.
"We leave for Nerium soon. Get up. Don't make a sound."
Ravenna felt the dagger against her skin and stood. Peter untied her wrists, and she rubbed her aching flesh. He marched her out of the room, down the hall, and out the door. She was to play the role of his wife if there were no consequences. Nobody greeted them as they left, she noticed. The innkeeper must still be asleep.
The sun had hardly begun to rise. The sky was starting to turn a pink-orange color of dawn. Ravenna noticed an unfamiliar man standing in front of Peter Jones's carriage. He was short, with a large brown beard that obscured most of the man's face. He had small, beady eyes similar to Peter's. Was this the gravelly-voiced man? Where was his old coachman? Peter pushed Ravenna into the carriage, and she fell forward, her dress catching the door and the skirt ripping slightly. Peter climbed in behind her, slamming the door shut behind him. He rapped on the window, signaling to go.
After half an hour of riding in silence, Peter leaned forward, removed the cloth from Ravenna's mouth, and handed her a canteen of water. She drank greedily, parched from her hours with the fabric in her mouth.
"What are you doing with me? Where are we going?"
"We're getting married."
Ravenna gasped. "I never agreed to that!"
Peter slapped her across the face. She recoiled. Peter stuffed the cloth into her mouth, apparently growing sick of her words. "I have a priest in North Nerium who believes women should do as the man says. And I say you're my wife. We will be married tomorrow. Do you understand?"
Ravenna put her hands up, trying to defend the next blow. Peter took this advantage and tied her hands back together. He pulled back the curtain on the carriage window, and Ravenna caught a glimpse of an empty meadow near a lake, a forest nearby. Peter pounded on the carriage's wall, signaling the new coachman to stop.
"But there's nothing wrong with consummating our marriage early, now, is there?"