Cassandra eyed the jug suspiciously before slowly shaking her head, unwilling to trust anything these people offered her. The movement sent a brief wave of dizziness through her, making the room tilt for a moment.
She steadied herself against the chair and fixed her gaze on Josephine, her suspicion only deepening.
"It is only water," Josephine assured her. "You need to regain your strength."
When Cassandra still hesitated, Josephine gripped her jaw firmly and tipped the water into her mouth, forcing Cassandra to swallow several mouthfuls before she lowered the jug.
She then poured some of the water into her palm and flicked it across Cassandra’s face.
"You need to stay alert."
Cassandra’s eyes narrowed on her even as water dripped from her lashes and ran down her cheeks.
The younger woman looked toward her aunt for an explanation. Confusion had been written across her face ever since they had left the corridor.
"Aunt Josephine, what are you doing?"
But Josephine ignored the question. The sight of Cassandra had dredged up memories from years ago, memories she had long since believed belonged to a part of her life that was over. Until today, she had never imagined that their paths would cross again.
Years ago, Josephine had been working in a demanding industry that hardly valued its workers. The hours were long, the pay was meagre, and she often brought home barely enough to keep food on the table.
Her husband had been sick at the time and unable to work, leaving the burden of keeping their household afloat almost entirely on her shoulders. Then, when her employer accused her of mishandling an expensive order, he had threatened to dismiss her without paying the wages he owed her.
She had pleaded with him, explaining that she had done nothing wrong, but he had refused to listen.
The matter would probably have ended with Josephine losing both her employment and the money she was owed if Cassandra had not happened to overhear the argument.
Cassandra had been visiting the establishment with her mother. Rather than accepting the employer’s word simply because he was a respectable man, she had insisted upon seeing the disputed order herself.
The mistake had eventually been discovered, and it had been proven that Josephine had not stolen anything.
Cassandra had made certain that Josephine received every penny she was owed and that the accusation against her was withdrawn.
It had been a small thing to Cassandra. She had probably forgotten about it within a year.
But Josephine had not.
She had carried the memory with her for years, along with a promise she had made privately to herself. If she ever had the opportunity to repay that kindness, she would.
And it was not long after that she became acquainted with Mr. Whitmore.
She hadn’t even known that Cassandra was the woman Whitmore had planned all of this for.
Had it been another girl, another frightened young woman brought here for money, Josephine might have dressed her, arranged her hair, and done exactly what she had been paid to do.
She wasn’t a saint, and she had never pretended to be one.
She had accepted Whitmore’s money willingly. She hadn’t bothered to ask questions about where the girl came from or why the ceremony was being conducted in secret. She had simply assumed that whatever was happening was none of her concern.
But if there was anyone who deserved this fate the least, it was Cassandra.
"Aunt Josephine?"
Her niece’s voice brought her back to the present, and Josephine grimaced.
"We cannot do this." She straightened from her crouched position. "Not to her, Clara. I would never be able to forgive myself for it."
The younger woman’s face scrunched up, a sign of her deepening confusion.
"We have already agreed to it. Mr. Whitmore paid us for this."
"I know that."
"And if he finds out, he won’t take it lightly," Clara warned seriously.
"God, I know! Do you think I don’t know that? Just... just let me think."
Josephine began pacing back and forth, her hands clasping and unclasping as she struggled to think of a way out of the situation. Every possibility seemed to lead to another danger.
"We have to do this in a way that won’t get us caught."
Her niece stared at her in bewilderment. "How do you expect us to do that?"
"I don’t know yet," Josephine admitted before glancing toward the locked door.
She lowered her voice, suddenly conscious of how easily someone might be standing on the other side.
"But I know I will not stand here and help them force her into a marriage while she is like this. Especially when it is to a man like Lawrence Whitmore."
The words left a bitter taste in her mouth.
But was she truly willing to risk her life and her niece’s to save a woman she barely knew?
Clara lowered her voice as well.
"What exactly do you intend to do?" she asked again, though this time she sounded almost afraid to hear her aunt’s answer.
"There is another way out. That old passage we found yesterday. It hasn’t been used in some time."
As she spoke, the full plan began to slowly unfold before her.
They would sneak Cassandra through the old passageway, which led to one of the building’s hidden exits. Once outside, Cassandra would have no choice but to hurry into the dense woodlands that bordered the area.
If she reached the trees, they would have more difficulty finding her. There was a village beyond the woodland, and if Cassandra managed to reach it, she might be able to find someone willing to help her.
The sun had long since begun its descent across the sky. Soon, it would be completely dark. The growing darkness would make it far more difficult for anyone searching the grounds to spot Cassandra.
Clara’s face looked apprehensive as her aunt relayed the plan in detail.
"Aunt Josephine, if they catch us helping her—"
"They will not."
"How can you be certain?"
"We will not help her openly. Once she reaches the woods, she is on her own from there. All anyone needs to know is that she became violently ill and began vomiting. While you went to fetch water, she suddenly bolted into the corridor, and by the time we realized where she had gone, she had already reached the grounds."