No Escape 

Jane drove to the beach and spent an hour walking the beach holding her shoes in her hand and letting the waves suck at her feet. She found a little café and ate her salad watching the wash of the waves towards the shore.

What was she going to do? She wondered. Just over a month married, and her husband did not want her and openly kept a mistress who believed that it was just a matter of time until he divorced Jane and married her instead.

She turned her phone over in her hands. She finished her meal and returned to her car, sitting in the driver’s seat, and dialling her father’s number.

“Hello Jane,” he answered promptly.

“Daddy,” she fought back her tears. “I want to come home.”

He sighed heavily. “Jane,” he said with patience. “What is this ridiculousness about?”

“Baron doesn’t love me,” the tears fell free and tracked down her face. “He only married me because of the connection to you. He keeps Angelique openly as his mistress, and she says that he will only keep me as his wife for as long as the connection matters, and then he will divorce me and marry her instead, and, oh,” her voice broke on a sob. “Daddyplease.”

He was silent for a long moment. “Why would Angelique think the connection would cease to matter?” He wondered.

That was he took from her babbled distress, she thought bitterly. “I don’t know.” 

was curt with it. “Call

face with her hands and sobbed out her

to inherit from Matthew both the family wealth and the leadership of

her, or running away, and when she had complained to her mother, innocently telling her that their cruelty was just due to the game they were playing, and that Jane was over-reacting. As they’d gotten older, their meanness had evolved, and any opportunity was exploited to humiliate Jane, from spreading mean gossip about her, to stepping on the hem of her dress

wine was nothing compared to what Jane had experienced at the hands of

for herself, despite her rank in the pack, and that she would escape the daily torment, and finally be able to relax her

because she was still her, still part of

cars, leaving her no choice but to park under a tree, and walk the rest

servant’s stairs up, so as to avoid any that might be inside the house. Her bedroom door was open, and she pressed herself against a wall as mocking

declared. “This one isn’t bad, actually. Could be cute if done up right.” They

commented. “Do you

wouldn’t be interesting

“Who is this?”

just like her. That would

They burst into laughter, and Jane felt a sharp strike of

her fear of them, she hurried into the room,

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