Chapter 29 #2
“You tell us,” Theo replied, waving the hand that held her lemonade toward Ophelia’s throat.
“We had to learn from the papers that you have accepted Lord Weavington’s engagement and you would not receive us when we came to visit!
And is that the necklace you told me about?
I thought you hated it! I thought you hated him! ”
Ophelia’s stomach churned as she reached up toward the symbolic yolk around her throat; her hatred for it growing by the second. She’d tried in vain to get it off- and had experienced countless bouts of panic every time she failed. Eventually she just had to give up.
Ophelia floundered as she took in her friends’ interrogative gazes, her mind failing to come up with a lie that would both ease her friends worried looks and keep them protected.
“I supposes I just had a change of heart,” Ophelia muttered.
Her friends all gaped at her. At one time Ophelia would have laughed at their expressions and revealed a trick. This time, though, there was no trick to play. Just a dire need to keep her new intended calm.
“So it is true?!” Seraphina whispered vehemently.
“Last we talked you despised him!” Rose spoke up.
“I do not…despise him.” It took more effort than she expected to speak the lie. Her very soul railed against her words; demanded that she speak the truth.
Theo stared at her flatly.
“You are lying. Look at you. You are developing a rash as we speak! What has he said to you? What has he done?” She demanded.
Ophelia pursed her lips together and shook her head. Even so, she felt an itching heat spread over her neck where the necklace laid.
She had already put her friends in jeopardy by revealing her secret identity. She was not about to put them in more danger by confessing Abraham’s threats. The man was cruel enough to expose her in front of everyone if her friends tried to stick up for her- or worse.
“Abraham and I had a chance to speak some more,” she forced herself to say. “After learning more about him I discovered that he is quite…suitable, I suppose.”
They all continued to stare at her intensely.
“And your father?” Theo asked, “He approves of this union? For the last I remember, he was opposed to Abraham’s pursuit of you.”
Flashes of her argument with her father came back to Ophelia.
He had been shocked, confused, and eventually angry when she told him she had changed her mind about Abraham’s proposal.
She’d had to force herself to lie in ways that broke her heart in order to convince him to allow the engagement.
It was one of the reasons she had not received her friends the day they called on her.
She had taken to bed in a deep state of fear and depression.
Had not been able to climb out of it for several days.
“He also changed his mind,” Ophelia answered softly.
Her friends all continued to stare at her with their quiet intensity; as if they were trying to look beyond her words and into the truth of her heart.
Only she had no more heart. It was beyond shattered, and its fragments seemed to drift further apart from one another with each day that brought her closer to her marriage to Abraham.
Ophelia took a long sip of her wine, willing it to steady her nerves.
“Ophelia, this is not who you are,” Theo insisted. “Choosing someone because you ‘suppose’ they are suitable? You are the fiercest woman I know! We do not know this meek woman standing before us, what has happened to you?”
“You can tell us,” Rose urged gently, “You know you can.”
Ophelia fought the urge to break down and weep.
She missed that woman Theo spoke of. But her strength was gone.
Stolen away with the lock of a cursed gold necklace that she could not rip off.
Perhaps if she could get it off somehow.
Perhaps if she could just find a way to snap one of its heavy links…
“We are ruining Amelia’s party,” she stated, fiddling with her glass. “After all the effort she put into this celebration, we should be downstairs making sure it all goes well.”
“I do not care about this party, Ophelia, I care about you!” Amelia adamantly replied.
Ophelia managed a small smile as she looked up at her.
“I am fine,” she rasped with a small shrug.
“Now please, let us all go back downstairs. I want to see the bonfires you spoke so excitedly about,” she urged.
Her friends all looked back at her, as if lost on what to do.
“I actually am impressed with how the gardens came together,” Amelia sighed.
“We had a dance floor constructed in white and black tile out there in the middle of spiral of bonfires. It is surrounded by lit torches. It is eerie and exciting all at the same time. I suppose you would appreciate the look of it, from an artist’s perspective. ”
“I would indeed,” Ophelia agreed.
Though as much as she wanted to see her friend’s creative efforts, what she wanted more was to check on Abraham. He was older than her husband’s friends and not as muscular, but he was cunning, and she had no doubt her intended could bring harm to Dominic if he truly wanted to.
Though it was clear that her friends would have preferred to stay in Amelia’s quarters and batter the truth out of her, Amelia opened the door, and they made their way back to the festivities.
As they walked through the crowed parlor, though, Ophelia could not help but yet again look for Tristan.
Even if he loathed her, she had to find him a way to alert him to Abraham and the secrets he knew.
By the time they reached the bonfires and the elaborately decorated gardens, Ophelia’s curiosity got the better of her, and she finally asked, “Is Tristan coming this evening?”
Not Lord Perfect, as she usually called him, but Tristan. Even just saying his name aloud seemed to spread a soothing balm over her fraught nerves.
“I thought so,” Theo said, looking around for her brother. “He has seemed a little better as of late, and I could have sworn that Alistair said he would be joining us here.”
“Who will be joining you here?”
A shiver crept down Ophelia’s spine as Abraham appeared at her side; his gold mask glinting in the firelight in the most foreboding sort of way.
“Lord Weavington,” Theo greeted blandly, “Did you know that you have a most peculiar way of just appearing out of seemingly nowhere?”
Abraham’s smile was nothing but threatening.
“And I always seem to appear at the perfect time,” he retorted.
“Hmm,” Theo grunted, looking him up and down.
“We were just talking about an old friend of Dominic’s,” Ophelia quickly answered, stepping between Theo and Abraham, “One we have not seen in a while. Speaking of, where is Dominic?”
Ophelia’s stomach clenched as she asked the question, praying Abraham had done nothing to Amelia’s husband.
Abraham gave a terse nod to his left, his expression grim.
Ophelia could not help but whip her head in that direction, and nearly sagged in relief when she spotted Dominic speaking to masked men that were clearly Hugo, Everett, and Alistair.
“I believe he has corralled himself with all of your husbands,” he answered dryly. “You have quite the tight collective of friends, dear Ophelia.”
“We are more like family, dear Viscount,” Theo answered in an equally dry tone.
“A family I will soon be joining,” Abraham replied, his smile just as threatening as before.
Ophelia’s friends said nothing as she shivered in the gathered tension. Then Abraham turned toward her and held out his hand. Like the meek woman she’d become, she slipped her hand obediently into his; feeling a sudden bout of nausea at his touch.
“Now if you ladies will excuse us,” Abraham stated, curling his fingers tight around Ophelia’s, “I would like to dance with my beautiful betrothed.”
Theo looked as if she was about to step forward, but Seraphina and Rose stopped her as Ophelia let Abraham lead her away from them.
“You are supposed to be improving my reputation, not ruining it,” Abraham growled under his breath as he moved her into the steps.
Ophelia’s cheeks flushed as fear scurried through her veins.
“I am doing my best,” she whispered, “I told them all that I wanted this engagement.”
Abraham half-stepped, half-shoved her into the next step, nearly making her stumble.
“Your best is woefully lacking if your friends’ glares are any indication,” he grumbled.
“I do not know what else I can do!” She whispered vehemently. She started to grow dizzy from Abraham’s jerking lead. “I cannot make them accept you. I do not know why you want me to in the first place. We are certainly not the most popular members of society.”
Abraham jerked her toward his chest, making her gasp. He stared down at her with rage-filled eyes, making his mask appear even more menacing.
“I questioned your intelligence from your beginning,” he whispered. “I heard the rumors and thought surely you could not be as cunning as they say. Now I know that I was right. You really are as daft as any other noblewoman here.”
Anger sizzled up through Ophelia’s fear, but it was quickly extinguished as Abraham let go of her waist and began pulling her away from the other dancers.
“Where are we going?” She demanded, looking behind her.
The dance floor was more crowded than she thought, and she realized with rising panic that Abraham had taken her away without notice from the others.
“You ruined my plans,” he snarled, tugging her through a bed of withering rose bushes. The thorns snagged at her arms and dress, causing dozens of tiny rips in both. She let out a hiss as she felt the sting, but Abraham kept pulling her forward until they reached the gravel drive.
“Get in,” Abraham commanded, shoving her into the carriage.
Ophelia put her hands out to catch herself, but before she could hit the seats or the floor, she felt her arms being wrenched back and was stopped only a second before her nose would have crashed into the surface.
“No!” Ophelia yelled as she was yanked up.
“Quiet!” Abraham barked, wrapping a rough rope around her wrists. “We’re going to have to do this another way.”
Ophelia struggled as Abraham tied her hands together, but the ropes were suddenly cinched tight, and she was suddenly lifted under her arms and deposited into a seat.
“Let me go!” She demanded as Abraham banged his fist upon the carriage ceiling. She lurched forward as the carriage began to move, and it was only her will to not be touched by him that kept her from toppling toward his person.
“You should have done better,” Abraham sighed, shaking his head as he looked out the carriage window.
“I was trying!” She exclaimed. “Let me go! Take me back! My friends will come for me!”
Abraham’s hand forced a cloth over her screams, and before she could tell herself to stop breathing, Ophelia’s world went black.