“Please hurry. I'm afraid she's going to faint.”

James opened the back of the gown and Christopher slid it, and her chemise,

down to her waist, keeping her front pressed against his chest to preserve her modesty.

“Good Lord!” James exclaimed, and his uncle grunted in astonishment.

“There you see? Have you ever encountered injuries this bad?” Christopher

demanded, his fingers sliding over one deep groove.

“Once,” the bishop said grimly. “The unfortunate lady did not survive. I had

to perform her funeral service. Her husband was hanged. Is that the extent of the

damage?”

“No.” Christopher did not elaborate. He didn't need to. “Will you issue the license now?”

“Perhaps. First I need to speak to her alone.”

“James, a little help please?”

Together they worked her clothing back over her ruined flesh and fastened it.

Christopher walked her back to the sofa, supporting nearly all her weight, and helped her to lie down on her only uninjured side. With gentle fingers, he smoothed a wisp of dark hair away from her ashen face.

“Don't leave, Christopher,” she sobbed, finding her voice at last.

“I won't go far, love,” he promised. “The bishop needs to talk to you. I'll be

nearby if you need me.” He stroked her cheek gently and pressed his lips to her

forehead. “Be strong, Katerina. Whatever he asks you, tell him the truth.”

He lingered in the doorway until James pulled him out. “She's safe with my

uncle. Let's go look for a snack. I hardly got a bite of dinner and you didn't get

any. Besides, you could use a drink.”

CHAPTER 6

“M y dear,” the bishop approached Katerina slowly. Tears slid

down her temple into the sapphire-colored upholstery, “do

you swear to me it was your father, and not your young man, who hurt you so

badly?”

She looked askance at him.

“Sometimes abusive men can coerce women into lying, but if you marry

him, the abuse will continue.”

“No.” She steeled herself, using the last of her faltering strength to force the

words out. “Marriage is the only way to stop it. Christopher didn't do this to me.

Father did. I've only known Christopher for two weeks.”

“I see,” the bishop replied, understanding dawning on his friendly, wrinkled

face, “and those scars are much older, aren't they?”

“Some are ten years old,” she elaborated, straining to move her numb lips.

“I'm sorry for all you've had to endure,” he murmured, gentle and sincere.

“Thank you.” Her eyelid began twitching, so she closed her eyes.

“Do you need me to summon anyone to treat your injuries?” the bishop

asked, his voice not quite steady.

Katerina shook her head. “They're not as bad as they look,” she replied. “I don't need anything but sleep and to marry Christopher tomorrow.”

“Very well. Rest my dear.” He turned to leave the room.

Once more Katerina spoke softly, voicing the question that had been

lingering in the back of her mind since Christopher proposed this mad plan. “Is it

wrong of me to ask this of him?”

The bishop turned and regarded her without speaking for a long moment.

Though his expression remained grim, something of hope seemed to flare in his

blue eyes. “It's good of you to think of it. He's your only hope though.”

Raw despair clenched her heart. “I know. I wish I had something to offer in