Hair, topping up the hot water as and when I wish, and picking at the food on the tray ( cheeses, fruit, meat). Hasn’t Maura taught me enough about the plants in the gardens? Aren’t there enough blooms of nightshade and foxglove, wolfsbane and even daffodils to suit my purposes? Brew a tisane, sprinkle some across her food. But why would I pay another to do that? And how? There are the jewels, a voice in my head says, the things she bought you with Fitzpatrick money the earrings, the bracelets. A quiet death, gentle, something to send her off in her sleep. As if there would be no debts still owing – as if Aoife wouldn’t keep running up bills. I’d never thought of myself anywhere but Hob’s Hallow, and I never thought of myself as marrying anyone – it’s never been discussed or brought up in even the vaguest of way – I just thought… That they’d be gone one day and I’d be free. I’d make decisions for myself, although who knew what they’d be. It’s not that I don’t love them, though they’re hard to love, it’s that with them gone… I’d be beyond their rule and regulation. Not quite yet, but with Óisín’s death I was one step closer to being released from my grandparents. Another suitor for me? I’d thought… I’d thought I would be free.
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