The heavy oak door creaked open revealing the dimly lit study where lucian sat, air thick with the scent of old papers and something metallic, a frantic bird trapped in a cage, Clara heart hammered against her chest.
"You summoned me, Lucian," I said, my voice merely a whisper, though I tried to keep it steady.
He didn't look up from the letter he was holding. "Clara," his voice was a low, resonant rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very floorboards.
"A simple task for you." He finally raised his gaze, and the sheer emptiness in his eyes made her want to bolt.
It was a look she had seen when he, for example, ordered the stable master to bring his finger forwards as he dislocated it, or when he calmly watched the head of his slave boy brought to the table because he had attempted to murder him, a chilling indifference to the suffering of others.
He leaned forward, placing the letters on the desk. "I require the presence of a certain young woman. Lady Anne, the daughter of the Duke of Thornton."
My mind couldn't help but drift to the laughter i and Anne shared, the outrageous dance steps, our little gossip, the way we laughed as we spilled tea on our dresses.
What does this monster want to do with Anne. Clara couldn't help but feel the range forming knots in her belly.
I swallowed hard. "Lady Anne? Why?"
A faint cruel smile touched his lips."That is not for you to question".
I will go to the Duke himself and tell him I request for his daughter Anne, then for your part, You will use by any means necessarily- a persuasion, a promise of a 'grand opportunity', perhaps a little subtle coercion to motivate her to come here.
The finality in his tone was absolute yet the implications felt as dark and forbidden as the man.
As I turned to leave he called out to me "Clara don't you want to know what's in for you" I could hear the laughter in his voice, then I could hear his steps coming closer and closer as he leaned to my ear and whispered. " A lady like you definitely needs a good alliance in times like this, it would be sad, if you died from an unknown disease with signs of severe rash".
I knew he was threatening me but for my head's sake I ignored the comment and finally took my leave.
PART 2 CONTD.
The aroma of fresh bread still clung to my clothes as I returned from the bakery. The Hastings family had requested me to be in charge of their grand two- month anniversary gala. I felt a profound sense of excitement, I was thrilled at the opportunity to showcase my culinary and bakery skills on such a scale. The news was too good to keep to myself.
Running home, I bought some apples on my way and even some crisps, a small treat, hoping this wonderful news would be the hammer to break Kate's recent mood. The plan was perfect: with the advance payment, Kate could finally afford to go to the masquerade ball with her friends and her 'prince charming '. Why hold her down because of my unreasonable fears. Love, in its purest form, was about wanting the other person's happiness above all else.
Hurrying up the stairs in a frantic, heart pounding in anticipation, but silence met me, the room was so silent. A pin drop would have echoed like a gunshot. The vibrant happiness of a moment ago evaporated. Where had she gone? She was supposed to be home, waiting.
Instead of lingering on my sadness, i sat on her bed and stared at the room, my gaze sweeping across the familiar room. Memories, thick with love and nostalgia, flooded my mind. Remembering how her father and I had decorated it so beautifully. I remember how Kate's father, and a very pregnant, cucumber craving version of myself has decorated the rooms years ago. It has been a beautiful, whimsical, cucumber - themed sanctuary. Outsiders, had once joked, that they should be careful so Kate doesn't become a cucumber herself.
Looking up at the poster kate first brought home when she was thirteen, whining and crying about how she must absolutely must marry the guys on it.
The love In this room was as real as the sadness i felt now.
The room felt off, my gaze fell to the floor, my heart hammered against my ribs. I picked it up with trembling hands.....
....
PART 1
The night offered no sleep, only stomach pain and the biting cold that mocked the thin cotton gown, that offered no defense against the night's cold that seeped through the manor walls, I had to throw on a thick wool sweater, which did little good. Maybe I could go to my father's stables and clear out a stall for whiskey.
"How dirty could a stall be? I chuckled to myself, raising a branch I'd find to use as a makeshift rake, father surely must dismiss whoever here that takes care of the stables and his horse I've seen better works." I huffed, "I've seen better works at a pigstery". A touch of amusement in my tone, as I busied myself with the unexpected chore.
Just as I began to hum a little tune, feeling quite pleased with my industriousness, I felt a familiar pair of eyes on me. As I turned around, I gasped, startled, my hands flying to my chest, nearly dropping my branch, for a fleeting second, my heart stopped: a figure stood in the shadows, believing it to be then man in my dreams I eased closer, until a voice, crisps and formal, shattered the illusion : "Lady Anne, your father requests your presence". My startled expression melted into a slight frown.
Why did I keep imagining this man ? I don't know why I couldn't accept he was only a fragment of my imagination, a man whose perfection only existed in my slumber.
"My father seeks my presence"? A brow raised in surprise. "I thought he was out tonight." "And my mother?" The man shifted.
"She is busy having tea with her ladies in waiting." No doubt. I sighed.
"Well, it's quite late. Tell Father to grant me a few minutes to take a shower; I am awfully dirty. In fact, there are some matters to discuss with him regarding these neglected stables and stalls."
...
The study was a tomb of shadows, just the way my Father liked it, despite the eye problem he constantly complained about. I walked in, the scent of old paper and expensive cologne, hanging in the air.
"Father, you requested my presence." I said, my voice cutting to the dimly lit room.
He looked up, taking off his glasses. His black hair, streaked with white, looked like a moonlight wave crashing into a dark shore- pure drama. Those brown eyes, sharp and intense, locked onto mine, a stark contrast to my mother's cool dark gaze. He was probably wondering why I looked like I just played under the rain.
I took my usual seat, the one right next to him. I was his jewel, his favorite - not like he had a choice I was his only child, a fact that was impossible to ignore. I loved him just as much. He leaned in and gave me a hug.
"Oh, pumpkin, did you do something new to your hair? It looks beautiful, just like you, "he said, laying it on thick.
I laughed. I knew that game. The flattery always meant a favour was coming. "Okay, father I get it. You finally noticed the 'hair I got a week ago'. " I leaned back, crossing my arms. " What do you need?"
He smiled, that same old shark's smile. I'd love for you to be my escort to the upcoming boardroom meeting. I have some old friends you'll absolutely adore meeting. And a friend of mine who is a new boardroom member.... He's a Caribbean man, a good man.
"Father, we are both very much aware the boardroom is preserved only for the men, "Anne stated, her voice a cool whisper of defiance. Her father chuckled, dismissing her concern with a wave of his hand. "Nonsense, my dear Anne, it is but a single evening, not a battle to the death! Your mother will be far busy with her ladies in-waiting tomorrow night."
"Even if I wanted to go- and by the way which I assure you, I absolutely do not- what on earth am I to wear?. Mrs Lillian can't possibly get something ready by tomorrow night. It's far too soon
"Oh, Anne, you and i both know your wardrobe is overflowing with splendid gowns. Immediately the sun breaches the horizon, I shall dispatch you and Mrs. Cara to procure a new dress from the esteemed house of Laura Ashley- something to enhance your natural elegance, my Dear. I want the gentlemen to behold my eldest, my most cherished trophy, shining brighter than any star.
A small smile escaped my lips. "Father, if that is all, this lady shall retire for the evening. "As I turned to leave, his voice called out once more, a tender plea in the twilight. "Sweetie, please, no hat tomorrow. I wish only to see your hair, your eyes, you are a vision of beauty, and I will not have you think less of yourself, my dearest child."
" Yes Father" I whispered, her father's past was a shadow. That followed him. Despite his own father being a Duke, he was a monster. He subjected his own son, to unimaginable maltreatment and sexual violations. The scars were etched deep within his soul. It was a tragedy that his own mother, a victim herself, was paralyzed by fear, unable to voice the horrors, a silence for which her own son, in his enduring pain, partly balmed her till date.