Bloody Mary

PROLOGUE - MARYANN ELIZABETH

1842

The rain had been falling since before sunrise.

Maryann Elizabeth stood barefoot in the mud, her thin white dress soaked through, her hands trembling as she stared at the people gathered around her.

Neighbors.

Churchgoers.

People who had once smiled at her in the market.

Now they watched her as though she were something wicked.

"Shame!" someone shouted.

"Whore!"

Another voice called her a disgrace.

Maryann lowered her eyes.

She wanted to disappear.

She wanted to wake from the nightmare that had become her life.

But there was no waking from it.

She was eighteen years old, frightened, and carrying a child.

And the man responsible stood only a few feet away.

Her father.

Thomas Elizabeth.

He stood beneath the old oak tree with his coat buttoned to his throat, watching his daughter with a coldness that made her stomach twist.

Maryann had begged him to tell the truth.

He had refused.

Instead, he had told the town that Maryann had brought disgrace upon their family.

He had made himself the victim.

And the town had believed him.

"Father," Maryann whispered.

Thomas looked at her.

"Please."

His expression did not change.

"Do not call me that."

Maryann's eyes filled with tears.

"You know the truth."

A murmur moved through the crowd.

Thomas stepped closer.

"You will say nothing."

"I cannot carry this shame for you."

His face hardened.

"You will do as you are told."

Maryann shook her head.

"No."

It was the first time she had ever said the word to him.

The crowd went quiet.

Thomas stared at his daughter as though he could scarcely believe what he had heard.

Maryann wiped her tears.

"I have done nothing wicked."

Someone laughed.

Another person whispered that she deserved whatever punishment awaited her.

Maryann looked around desperately.

"Please," she said. "You know me. You have known me since I was a child."

Nobody stepped forward.

Nobody defended her.

Her father had made certain of that.