The fright blisters, her breath hitching, stuck there afraid to come out. She closes her eyes and shrieks when he pummels the wall with his fists. She doesn't know what is about to happen, and she thinks how to get away, not hearing his questions, not seeing the face that seethes anger so close. The stink of evil as dank spittle sprays her face with the intensity of his words.
She could kick him. Knee him hard in his groin. But then he's asking about her husband and the questions strikes her more strange than his rough handling. What care would he have for her...husband?
She peeks at him with one eye open and sees a face she knows.
"Lord Vincent? " Her mouth his agape. The darkness of him shrouds her in melancholy. His bright virility has sunk into something twisted and he is not at all how she remembers him. "Why do you afford this violence upon me. Have I wronged you?"