Clair.” Captain Fitzgerald smiled as he glanced at his daughter. “I feared I would not get to see you hang.” “Father!” Abigail cried. “Let him go. Let us both go. Please.” “Both of you?” Fitzgerald scowled when the two men flanking Abigail, each holding her arms, snickered. He raised his hand and struck her viciously. She collapsed in pain to the floor. Reeling in the disbelief that hurt more than her aching head, she heard shouts and a fist striking someone. She pushed herself to her knees, grasping a chair as she tried to stand. Dominic would not allow her to be abused. But he must not do something stupid like try to defend her. He must leave. Now! She seized her father’s arm and stood. “Stop this!” she cried in horror when she saw Dominic on his knees, a knife at his throat. “You are just like your mother!” her father sneered. “A whore who takes up with the first man who smiles in her direction.” His voice rose with fury. “You are worse than she was, because you have allowed this French bastard to bed you.
