Pushing the side door open, Tonia rushed out into the beautifully manicured gardens that stretched out over several acres behind the McKinnon manor. It was chilly and a light mist was falling. She glanced around quickly, her eyes settled on a small gazebo in the distance. The wet sand of the pathway squished around her feet and her dress felt like she was dragging a sack of potatoes behind her, water soaked up from the hem.
She shivered as she ducked into the small gazebo and sank to the wooden floor, dripping and cold. He had betrayed her trust. She had asked him not to mention her past to his family and he had practically thrown it in his father’s face.
A liar. A charlatan. That’s what Byron’s father and grandfather thought of her. They thought she was somebody Byron shouldn’t have married. Why, because she was guilty of not knowing her true name? What if he convinced Byron that he had made a mistake? That she was a mistake. Maybe she should never have come... Byron perhaps would have been better off without her problems.
Sobs shook her body. Her tears poured down her cheeks and the rain began to pound, as if matching her misery with its own outbursts. The wind became stronger and whipped the rain into sheets that blew straight through the gazebo. The light drizzle had quickly become a frightening storm. Within a few seconds she was soaked to the bone. Thunder echoed through the sky and Tonia realized she couldn’t hear her own sobs anymore over the sound of her teeth chattering together.
She crawled to the entrance of the gazebo.
“Byron.” Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. It was too cold. She crawled back behind the gazebo furniture, taking refuge from as much of the rain as possible.
Stupid girl, no one even knows where you are.