Chapter One #2
She grimaced, her stomach churning. The urge to use magic had swirled in her mind for years, but she repressed it. She’d gone back and forth so many times since the funeral, incapable of deciding on whether to use it, but as the night ticked into morning, she realized she had little choice.
It was almost two days until the wedding, and she had exhausted all other options. If she was going to have any chance at happiness, they needed to be gone.
She wasn’t certain what time she had fallen back to sleep, but by the time she awoke to heavy footsteps echoing down the long corridor, Duke was gone, and sunlight arrowed through the window. Her heart hammered against her ribs as the pounding grew louder.
Damned and Hell. She must have missed tea with the Grantham family.
Charlotte scrambled to her feet as the door flung open with a loud bang, making her jump. She stepped back, pressing her back against one of the wood columns of her bed.
“You missed the tea,” her cousin bellowed, his long face heated red. “Are you trying to embarrass me?”
Her lips parted, but the words were trapped halfway down her throat.
“Answer me, wife.”
The word shot through her like an icy splash of water, but she knew better than to remark that they were not yet married. Instead, she lifted her eyes to meet his narrowing stare. “I apologize. I did not sleep well.”
“That is no excuse. Do you know what pains I went through to secure an invitation after everything your family has done? Your maids said they could not wake you again!”
Tension carved through her jaw, and her fingers gripped the wood post of the bed. It was his family too and if he was referring to the murders, then it was only one man’s fault.
“Speak!” he spat and she jumped.
Inhaling deeply, she uncurled her fingers and looked at him. In her gentlest voice, carefully crafted and perfected over the years, she whispered demurely, “I am so sorry, William. I know you have done a lot for us.”
Lies. All of it lies.
His eyes traveled to her white chemise, and she instinctively covered her chest. He turned his stare to her bed, spotting the cat fur against her white blankets. “What did I tell you about letting that fleabag in the house?”
She looked at the floorboards, hoping her silence would quell his rage. If she said what she really thought of him, she would be in an asylum by the end of the day, or worse.
After a long sigh, his shoulders relaxed. He wasn’t much taller than Charlotte’s five-foot five stature, but when he closed the distance between them, she felt tiny, like a caged animal.
“Hmm.” He brought his thumb to her bottom lip and dragged it down, pressing his fingerprint against the fleshy inside of her mouth before allowing it to flick back. “You are fortunate you know,” he said and brushed his fingers over her cheek. “No one else wanted you.”
Defiance laced her eyes, but she didn’t dare let her mask of civility slip, no matter how much she wanted to shove him away.
She didn’t care if no one in society wanted to marry her.
Not that she was averse to the idea of taking a husband, but she had always held out hoping to find love or friendship.
It was ironic that now she would get neither.
He brought his fingers to her long curls, drawing closer, as if he might kiss her. His whiskey-laced hot breath lingered around her face, and she scrunched her nose.
“There are ways you may make it up to me, to show me how grateful you are,” he said.
“Please,” she whispered in a voice that swallowed itself. “We are not yet married.”
“There is no need to be shy.” He pressed his body against hers, and she could feel everything, including the small bulge in his pants. “You cannot deny the feelings between us,” he said. “It is only two days until our wedding. No one will be any the wiser if you become with child now.”
She wanted to crawl out of her skin. It wasn’t because her virtue was at stake. God knew that had been taken by another long ago, when she was young and believed herself in love with someone who did not deserve it, but she couldn’t reconcile herself to being intimate with William of all people.
Not that he knew that. Her purity was her only card to play.
“Please,” she begged. “I want to wait until our wedding night.”
“You need not play coy, my sweet, innocent girl,” he said wheezily, with eyes that promised to take that from her. “Let me show you the ways a woman can be pleasured.”
Her face blanched. “I said no.” It was a word that felt heavy on her tongue, usually unspoken. As soon as she said it, she knew she’d made a mistake.
His eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”
“I…Please, don’t do this.” She looked at him with soft eyes, pressing her lips tight. Normally, her cousin liked it when she begged, and it was enough to avoid too much conflict with him. Except, this time, it wasn’t working.
She glanced up and stared directly into his bright green eyes, which was her first mistake.
He mistook her look for something more and pushed his lips to hers.
His all-too wet tongue darted through her lips before she could stop him.
He tasted of tobacco and liquor. She pushed against his chest, but he only groaned in response.
Her muffled protests were lost in his lust as he pushed his long skinny fingers down the front of her chemise, grasping at her chest as if he was kneading dough.
“Stop!” she screamed into his mouth, but her actions only seemed to spur him to go harder. With a grunt, she lifted her knee and slammed it as hard as she could between his legs.
He stumbled back, hands clasped over his groin, eyes bulging.
All it took was one look, a glare that turned cold and empty as a void, and she knew she had to run.
It wasn’t the first time she had seen murder in a man’s eyes.
The world spun around her as he chased her, shouting her name with spittle that sprayed across the back of her shoulder. She grabbed the doorknob, twisting it in time to creak the door open an inch, but was wrenched back before she could escape.
Air whooshed from her lungs, her back thudding on the hard floor, her eyes dazed, unfocused on the ceiling above.
His sharp features twisted with something dangerous as he straddled her.
“Please stop!” she screamed, clamping her eyes shut in time to feel his fist connect with her cheek.
A high-pitched sound rang in her ears, and blood coated her tongue and teeth. The floorboards pounded the back of her head as he punched her a second time.
Tears slid into her hair, and she covered her face with her hands when he slammed his fist against her trembling fingers, prying them apart.
“Don’t!” she screamed again, twisting her torso to the side, but his legs locked her in place. “William, please,” she spluttered when he dove for her throat.
She blocked his hands with her forearms, forming a cross over her neck.
“You will not deny me what is mine!” he yelled, pressing her arms against her own throat, his strength easily overpowering hers. She turned her face in time to feel a spray of spit hit her cheek.
Repressed sobs quaked her chest as she tried desperately to bury them, her entire body shaking. “Y-yes,” she stuttered. “I know. I am yours.”
“You are lucky to have me!” he yelled, pushing her down harder.
“I know,” she lied, her stomach knotting as she forced her expression to soften despite the pain throbbing through her cheek and eye. “It is only that I wish to remain pure before our wedding. I’m sorry, please. What will society think if they see me with bruises?” she added, and he sneered.
With a twitch of his sharp nose, he pushed down on her one last time before standing.
She turned onto her side, cradling her throat as she tried so hard not to cry. It would only anger him, but every breath was a struggle. She couldn’t stop shivering, and the more she tried to control it, the worse it would get.
“Clean yourself up,” he said, temporarily pausing over her with a solemn expression, as if he might have regretted hitting her.
She nodded, but once she heard the door slam shut, and his footsteps had faded to a safe distance, she let out a wail into her palms to muffle the sound. Tears flooded her eyes, snot poured from her nose, each sob wrenching her chest.
Slowly, she climbed onto her knees, barely able to catch her breath. She wretched hard, her throat dry and aching as vomit crept into her mouth. Fluids leaked over her closed lips, and she wiped them away with the back of her sleeve.
She ghosted her fingers over her throbbing cheek and swollen lip, a cry quaking her entire torso. William knew what had happened to her sister, how she had been strangled to death just two rooms down from where she lay.
With a grunt, she stood slowly, her legs wavering beneath her weight, forcing her to collapse against a wall. She stared at the floorboards now painted with a spray of her blood.
Everything around it faded from her vision. Her mind emptied, and all other sounds muted until she shook her head and blinked twice.
Her chest quaked when she spotted her black cat standing on the ledge of the window. He darted across the furniture, his paws pattering over the mahogany dresser, before jumping into her arms.
“You were right to leave early,” she cried against his neck, her tears dropping onto his fur. Her eyes closed when Duke’s paw landed on her cheek, his second meow rising an octave. “It is okay. I am okay.”
He nuzzled into her neck, as if sensing the lie.
Holding him close to her chest calmed her enough that her full-body shudders turned into infrequent shivers.
She glanced at the door while running her thumb over Duke’s head, tucking back his ear.
“I’m going to do it tonight, Duke,” she said.
“I’m going to lock them both away and they can never hurt us again.
We’ll get our home back and it will just be us. ”
He purred against her chest. Murder was not something she ever wanted to consider, but she had no choice.
Once they were imprisoned in that mirror, she could never let them out.
A body could not survive long without a soul and if she ever tried to undo it and let them out, she’d have to release all the evil inside and God only knew what was in there.
After all, her mother’s family had kept it hidden for centuries for a reason.