Promised snippets

The editing done, I am now free to write my last chapter (I should have liked to put a exclamation point on that, but exclamation points are not exactly dreamy and romantic. And since I'm once again listening to the Ever After soundtrack, I simply can't put an unromantic exclamation point in).
Of course, I may have to edit some more after I finish writing, but I don't intend to look critically on Maurelle for at least six months. If not longer. I can't look at my dears so soon after I finish them and expect myself to not be partial, or to not be offended at someone who is.
I'm not sure where I will take myself next. Perhaps to a fairy tale, since I'm in that sort of mood. Or maybe my dear African tiger-riding princess, or my laundress, or an old story which has been finished but needs refurbishing…
Anyway, after that long-winded explanation, here are the promised snippets:

I looked up and met his cold eyes. “But Raoul, please- just don’t- please don’t-” I looked away and my eyes saw Jacque. When I looked back at Raoul, his face held a sickly smile.

“Of course not. I’m a gentleman, aren’t I?”

I went to sleep, not comforted by having the decision made. What have I done?

It was a gray morning that I woke up to. If I didn’t do something, it would be my last day alive. I was jumpy and frightened at breakfast. Every branch that crackled in the fire I expected to be thieves stomping through the woods, coming to kill me. But no one seemed to notice my terror. Bridget cast concerned looks my way every once in a while; I tried to make myself immune to her anxiety, reminding myself that she wasn’t to be trusted.

I wasn't really listening. It didn't matter. Lost or not lost, Jacque was gone. Dead. I forced myself to think it. I felt sick.

I would have my freedom, but at this cost, I did not want it.