Chapter 24

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(John's POV)

 John watched as Isabel walked into the dining room. At least Neville was letting him sit in the room where the interrogations were happening. 

Neville motioned her to sit in a chair. She clenched her hands together in her lap and looked up at Neville, who had his eyes on her.

Neville finally broke the silence. "What's your name?"

"Isabel Smith, sir." Her voice was soft.

"How long have you been working for Lord Goodwin?" Neville examined his fingernails like this conversation was boring him.

"Two or three weeks."

"How come you're here? Your father is a merchant, isn't he?"

"I am, sir. My father died three years ago, and my family haven't been doing our share of work since then. The court decided that one of my family members has to work for Lord Goodwin for three years."

"I see. How did you feel about coming here?"

"I-I wasn't happy to leave my house, but I wanted to help my family. One of us had to come."

"You said you were happy there, correct?"

Isabel stared down at her hands. "I was not unhappy."

"Was there a particular reason you didn't want to come here? Maybe you heard about Lord Goodwin being an unfair man?"

Her head jerked up. "Oh no! Lord Goodwin isn't an unfair man." John's heart did a little stutter when she defended him. He wanted to intervene. To stop the questions.

"There's nothing about Lord Goodwin that doesn't scare you? He has a nasty temper. And I know the rumors people spread about him." Neville gave her a sympathetic look, as if he was trying to get her to trust him.

Isabel glanced quickly at Lord Goodwin then back at Neville. "When I arrived, I was a little bit afraid of him, but I'm not anymore. His temper is not that bad. He has a lot of responsibilities so it's understandable that he gets angry sometimes. He is a good lord. No one who knows him could say anything dishonorable about him."

John's heart beat faster. She thinks I'm honorable.  Her face turned red and she wouldn't look at him. 

Neville was quiet for a few seconds. "So was there another reason you didn't want to come to work here?"

"There were many reasons. My family needed me and I didn't want to live with strangers."

"Strangers? Were you afraid?" When Isabel started to fidget, a spark grew in Neville's eyes. "Who were you afraid of?"

"I-I already said I was afraid of Lord Goodwin."

"But you were afraid of someone else, weren't you?" Neville looked closer in Isabel's face.

She pressed her lips together, trying not to speak. John wanted to protect her from these questions, but he couldn't do anything to stop it.

Neville pressed on. "You were afraid of someone, weren't you. Was the person Bailiff Richard?"

A tear formed in the corner of her eye.

Neville leaned forward. "You were afraid of Bailiff Richard! Why? What did he do to you?"

"I didn't say I was afraid of him." She looked like she was fighting back tears.

"You didn't have to. But I want to know what he did to you. If you don't tell me, I'll find out another way."

John imagined Neville asking questions around the village. Everyone would find out how that bailiff had tried to force himself on Isabel several times. She would be embarrassed. He knew how that felt, to have all your neighbors whispering about your deepest pain.

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