Chapter 9 Hanna
HANNA
Later that afternoon, Hanna hid herself in the shadows at the side of the workshop, listening in disbelief as her father seemingly bartered with the gamekeeper for her hand.
She felt as if in a dream, as she strained to hear the conversation.
She had come home before heading for Maria’s cottage, as was her way, and had heard her name several times in her father’s gruff voice.
Hanna hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but she was compelled to hear what Wolff was saying about her.
“And what would I get out of it?” her father grumbled, kicking at a stone in the doorway as Wolff stood resolute before him, arms crossed, eyes narrowed as he set his offer on the table.
“You would have the first pick of the hides I trap in winter, and of course, my lord’s continued support and patronage.”
Her father snorted. “As if there is anyone who could work leather the way I do, your father knew-”
Alaric interrupted, holding up his hand impatiently. “Careful, I am not my father. There is always someone else. Don’t make me take my business elsewhere.”
Hanna’s father paused, eyeing the man warily. “You truly want her? You know what she is-”
“Your daughter?” answered Alaric archly, almost daring her father to finish his sentence, his heavy brows drawing together in a menacing way that made Hanna feel something sharp and confusing twist through her belly.
Her breath caught. They were negotiating. Bartering.
For her.
“I’ll take her, but I won’t wait. I will obtain a common licence, I have no time for banns and nonsense,” said Wolff, his eyes narrowed and impatience etched into his expression.
“Hmmm,” replied her father, and Hanna recognised the flash of avarice that passed over his face. Her father had no use for her now, she was nothing but an embarrassment, a stain on Johan Weatley’s reputation.
This was all for show. He would throw her to the wolf without a second thought if it rid him of her.
Hanna felt a flash of fear at the thought of Wolff’s offer.
What did this man want from her? It was all too much, Hanna wasn’t ready. She needed to get away from this sight, from the way she was being discussed as coldly as livestock exchanging hands.
"Eager, are you?" Her father's tone was knowing, nasty.
"Protective." The word was clipped. "She's vulnerable while she remains unwed and under your... care. I intend to remedy that situation immediately."
"Then we have an agreement?" Alaric's voice was carefully neutral now, giving nothing away.
"Aye. Take her with my blessing. Though I doubt she'll agree willingly—she's got a stubborn streak, that one."
"Leave that to me."
With a gasp, her heart almost seizing with anxiety, Hanna staggered away from the wall, shooting a look behind her as her feet took her instinctively towards the woods.
Alaric’s gaze caught the movement from the corner of his eye, and he froze, his eyes tracking her as she hurried away. Just as she reached the trees, he bolted after her, face grim.
“Hanna!”
Gods above, the sound of her name on his tongue spurred her on, running now, darting haphazardly through the trees as the light grew dim and the dark came nipping at her heels.
Hanna could sense him behind her, footsteps sure and steady as he loped after, following her easily as she crashed through the brush, branches whipping her cap free and snagging in her hair, scratching her hands as she rushed madly towards some unknown destination.
Maybe she was running backwards, trying to run away from the knowledge that she was ruined. A tainted woman. Alone. Always so alone now.
She was worth nothing, and there was no way that the man had good intentions for her once she was his.
“Hanna, just wait-” Alaric growled out behind her, closer now. An edge to his voice that Hanna could not name. Hanna glanced back, saw him looming tall in the gloom behind her, his eyes bright with something she couldn’t, or wouldn’t name.
Her breath came in heaving gasps, but he was hardly winded, his long limbs eating up the ground between them with an ease that sent fright rushing through her.
What would he do with her when he caught her?
The heavy clouds overhead made the forest dark, the pressure building in the air announcing a coming storm. And still, Hanna ran, her breath labouring in her lungs so that she could almost taste blood on the back of her tongue.
She could no longer hear Alaric’s footsteps over her ragged breaths, so she stopped suddenly, ducking behind a tree and trying desperately to bring her breath under control, covering her mouth in fear while searching the forest for any sign of her pursuer.
Suddenly, the clouds broke, and rain poured down from the heavens, heavy drops that hit the leaves above with a crash of sound, drenching Hanna in an instant.
Her chest heaving, she huddled miserably under the meagre protection of the branches, turning to look around the trunk as she scanned the forest.
Seeing no sign of him, Hanna sighed and turned to press her back once more to the sturdy tree.
And then there he was, her breath catching in her throat as Alaric reached out and grabbed her arms, eyes flashing. His touch was firm and no-nonsense.
“We need to get you out of the rain,” he shouted over the sound of the downpour.