A scrap of paper fluttered to the floor and slid some distance away. Beatrix crawled after it and opened it, realizing that it was torn from a butcher’s order.
Well, that certainly shows the gluttony of this fine household! She thought angrily. Who could possibly need so many cuts of meat such as this? And in a month’s time, let alone a week!
Turning it over, Beatrix found more writing on the reverse side. She had to read it aloud to herself to decipher its meaning as the letters and spelling were both rather poor.
Thot as tho yud be wantin a buk. Kep it hid in ya blankit.
“What a dear girl!” Beatrix whispered aloud, smiling. “When my father comes for me, I’ll see to it that her life is spared and that she finds a position with a household whose master is luckier than this one.”
She spent the evening perusing the book, reading each page carefully as though doling out a rationed supply of expensive sweets. Many of the plants were familiar to Beatrix, though she was taken aback at times to learn that a few of the remedies she’d relied on for years could be deadly in high doses or with too frequent use. The very poultice she’d been applying to her father’s leg would be quite effective at preventing infection and curing the skin, though if he did not heal soon, there could be lasting weakness in the leg.
All the more reason for me to escape! Beatrix thought, her anger welling up in her again.
The maid might prove to be rather useful, she realized. After all, the girl cared enough that Beatrix was trapped in here with only her thoughts to keep her company. She’d likely had no idea what book she’d even fetched her, but she had been concerned enough to provide something other than the four walls to look at.
It might take some time to fully win the maid over after such a risk as stealing a book for her, but unfortunately, time was something Beatrix feared she had in abundance.
By the next morning, Callum could scarcely concentrate on anything other than the girl he kept locked up. The sheer audacity of stealing that which did not belong to her raised his ire, but then to be so rude and dismissive when he had promised repeatedly to set her free was an insult heaped on top of the injury.
To make matters worse, to lie to him about her station and then laugh at his attempts to correct his perceived mistake showed her true character. Despite her obvious intelligence and education, she was still every bit the villain that any other common thief might be. That may very well be a sad fact of her circumstances and upbringing, but that was not Callum’s concern any longer.
No, she would have one final opportunity today to reveal what he needed to know, and then he would wash his hands off her. If there was no hope that he might see his mother’s gift again, then he would no longer entertain concerns about what might happen to the young woman.
“My Lord, your appointments today can wait a while longer,” Lloyd said as he removed Callum’s tray from his desk. “I have taken the liberty of inquiring whether your unfortunate guest is awake, if you wish to speak to her.”
“Thank you, Lloyd. But I care not if she’s awake,” Callum said, seething. “She’s a criminal and a liar and deserves no consideration from me. I’ll speak to her at any hour that I choose.”
“Very good, My Lord,” the butler said as he removed a cart and closed the study door softly behind him.
Callum kicked the leg of his chair in frustration, deciding that anger was a more manageable emotion than anguish and grief. Why had his mother even given the heirloom to him if it was only to be stolen from him! The cruelty of it was palpable, and it felt like a physical weight that Callum carried across his back. This was far beyond the injustice of someone as worthless as that damnable woman daring to take what was his, this was the harshest hurt she could have inflicted.
By now, her companions had no doubt destroyed the item, having sold it in exchange for mere coins that they most likely squandered on drink. If it still existed at all, had it not already been melted for its silver and few pearls, Callum had little hope of finding it again.
Now, with the knowledge that it may be lost forever, his thoughts turned to revenge instead of reason and hope.
Callum returned to the downstairs, a place he’d visited more in the last few days than in his entire life, it seemed. Immediately, his staff stopped their work and gaped at him before dropping into requisite bows and curtsies at his appearance.
“No, no, as you were. All of you,” he said gently, recognizing instantly their discomfort at his presence. Still no one moved, instead looking from one to another as though uncertain as to what to do with the Marquess of Bellton standing in the kitchens.
“My Lord, how can we be of assistance,” Lloyd asked, speaking for the staff.
“I’m come once again to speak with the woman. I hope she’ll see reason and avoid an unnecessary fate,” Callum replied, still looking at the uncomfortable and even fearful expressions on the faces of his servants. He frowned slightly when he saw one maid in particular who looked as though she might cry at any moment, putting distance between them as she retreated slowly away from him.
“Perhaps a different approach is required, My Lord,” the butler said. “Might I suggest that we take an alternate course?”
“What do you mean?” Callum asked.
Lloyd looked to the staff and jerked his head only slightly. In a quiet rush of footsteps and fabrics, the servants happily obliged and left the room. Lloyd then gestured to a chair for the marquess, and Callum sat down on the rough wooden seat.
“My Lord, your captive has an obvious disdain for… well, for you. Not you personally, of course, but rather your station. I fairly believe she takes particular delight in knowing that she holds some sort of power over you.”
“Over me? Are you mad?” Callum asked, but the butler only chuckled softly.
“Not actual power, My Lord, but the perception of it,” Lloyd explained. “Every time she refuses you the most simple of requests—who has your property—you must be the one to turn and leave the room without that which you seek. Nothing has changed for her at all, you see.”
“Ah, I think I do understand your meaning,” Callum finally admitted. “But what am I to do about it?”
“You might bring her out here,” Lloyd said, gesturing to the kitchen. “Talk to her at this very table, let her see you as a human being who is deeply grieved by this incident. Remember, all she sees is a man who appears to have everything that she could never have… yet would bring her harm in order to have one more thing.”
“Wait a moment, you think I’m being selfish?” Callum demanded, his fury rising again. “You forget yourself, Lloyd!”
“Not at all, My Lord,” Lloyd said carefully. “But perhaps she does think so? After all, she knows nothing about you save that you’ve bound her up and brought her here. She does not even know your name, I assure you, and you’ve only just learned her first name yourself. Between the accusations and the threats, both of you remain at an impasse. I only meant that another approach might have far better results than you’ve achieved so far.”
Callum relaxed slightly, admitting there was some wisdom in the butler’s advice. Still, he doubted how effective this new tactic might be, though he had to admit his efforts had been fruitless so far.
“Fine. Have her brought out here and see that the servants do not disturb us,” Callum said. “You’re very right in that she does seem to despise me for my station, so I should think that servants and staff meandering about their tasks would not endear me to her any.”
Lloyd bowed slightly and headed down the hallway to the room where Beatrix remained. He directed the servant to unlock the door, and bid the woman inside to follow him. Callum could see down the length of the hallway that it took some persuasion on the butler’s part, and he worried that the woman might refuse out of spite.
Finally, she emerged, her sour mood evident in the way she carried herself and the way she walked towards him. Callum watched her, struck again by how even her current wretchedly lo
w state had not diminished her comport. Evidently, Lloyd had explained the purpose for her removal as she came at once to the table and threw herself down without waiting for an invitation to sit.
“Why don’t you have a seat then?” Callum asked sarcastically, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“I believe I already did,” the young woman replied.
“That you have,” he replied quietly, then he paused to think of something further to say. Lloyd’s suggestion had been sound, but not fully directed, he realized.
Thankfully, Lloyd and the man who’d served as the guard had left the room, leaving the two of them to their discussion. Callum had no doubt they waited nearby in case she turned vicious, but they at least had adequate privacy to talk.
“I’ve asked you out here to speak with me,” Callum began, but he stopped when the woman laughed derisively. “What’s so funny?”
“Asked?” she replied, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms in front of herself defiantly. “I don’t recall you asking me anything except ‘where’s my precious little toy?’”
Callum took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. “I shouldn’t have to ask for it back, it’s my property. You had no cause to take it.”
“Perhaps you should have held onto it better if it mattered so dearly to you,” she answered, enjoying tormenting him.
“Look, it is a very important item, but I assure you, it is not worth much in terms of monetary value. I only need it back because it was something that belonged to my late mother.”
“Aw, are you going to tug at my heartstrings now?” the woman said with a sneer. “I’ve got news for you, you’re certainly not the only creature alive in the realm who doesn’t have a mother.”
He ignored her callous explanation and said, “This was very special to her, and she entrusted it to me.”
“Then perhaps she should have chosen more wisely,” Beatrix shot back, recoiling only a little at the wounded expression her words inflicted. “But answer me this. Do you truly expect me to hand over my family to be arrested so you can have your mother’s… thing, back in your possession? Do you even hear your words?”
Callum thought to reply immediately, but her explanation stopped him short. He clamped his mouth closed on his own retort. After all, she was right. All this time he’d expected her to turn on her own family in order to gain freedom for herself and retrieve something that held little more than sentimental value.
“I must ashamedly admit that I had not thought of it that way,” Callum said slowly, and the woman scoffed.
“No, of course you didn’t. You’ve never had to think of anyone but yourself, to think of anything other than what it is you want.” She stood up and returned to the hallway that led to her room. She stopped and looked back at Callum coldly. “If for no other reason than to make you finally endure some significant loss, I will not return it. My corpse will rot in the prison graveyard before I ever tell you what you want to know.”
Chapter 10
The sun had already set that evening when Beatrix saw a flicker of movement outside her window. She looked up, hopeful that it might be one of her father’s men, but she was rather discouraged to see that it was only the wheels of the carriage casting shadows against the house as it rolled away.
“Ah, the lord of the manor has a fancy ball to attend, I suppose,” Beatrix muttered, straining to see out whilst standing on her toes.
Tired of her efforts, Beatrix lowered herself back to her blanket and picked up the book again. It was hard to reconcile the man she’d conversed with today caring about any of these plants and their useful properties. No, it was probably just one of many titles he’d ordered by the stone from the bookseller’s shop in order to line the shelves with a ruse, one that gave the impression he was a man of learning and science.
No sooner than the echoing of the pebbles beneath the carriage had finally died away than Beatrix’s door opened. It was the same maid who’d attended to her all this time, only mealtime had long since come and gone. Her hands were empty and her face looked frightened, and her eyes darted over her shoulder every once and again, looking for the guard who must have stepped away.
“You’re here!” Beatrix said brightly, but the girl still trembled. “It’s nice to see you. Tell me, what is your name?”
The maid hesitated a moment before answering. “I don’t know. But they call me Birdie.”
“Birdie? Because you’re so small and beautiful, I take it?” Beatrix said sincerely.
“Oh, go on with ya,” the girl said, blushing slightly. “I’m no beauty.”
“Don’t be silly. I think you’re quite a lovely girl. And Birdie suits you rather well.” Beatrix smiled and Birdie blushed, but then she seemed worried once more.
“I… I must get… that book back, miss,” the girl stammered, her fingers twitching at her sides as she flexed her hands nervously.
“Oh! Of course. Here you go.” Beatrix stood up and held it out, but the girl took a reflexive step back. “It’s all right, I won’t hurt you. I do so appreciate you bringing it to me.”
The girl paused for a moment, then darted forward and snatched the book. Clutching it to her chest protectively, she looked down but made no move to leave.
“I’m very sorry… but the master’s gone out and I thought ‘twould be a good time to fetch it without no one seein’ me.”
“I completely understand,” Beatrix said kindly. “I promise. It was very kind of you to sneak it down to me, but I would never want any trouble to come to you for it.”
The girl smiled with relief, but still looked away nervously before adding, “If… if ya needs somethin’ else… I could try…”
“Dear girl, I would never allow you to burden yourself in that way. You’ve done such a kindness for me already.” Beatrix smiled genuinely, her heart aching for the poor frightened servant.
“I should think… I mean, that is, if I was able to read good… a book might make me feel less scared down here.”
“I think that is very wise and most generous of you,” Beatrix said.
She studied the maid a while longer, noting the stains on her apron and the flecks of dust clinging to her hair. This must not be one of the upstairs maids, she realized. For a moment, she longed to enlist the girl’s help in escaping, perhaps to have her go around and unlatch the window or fetch her a chair to climb out, but then changed her mind. She could never bring such guilt upon her.
A noise in the hallway caught the girl’s attention. She looked around again in fear, then dropped a brief curtsy and said, “Well goodnight, miss.”
“Goodnight Birdie,” Beatrix called back softly. “And thank you again!”
She was taken aback by how someone in far more dire straits than she could still think of others’ needs ahead of her very safety. It had an enlightening effect on her.
What was she really gaining by denying this insufferable man something that he treasured personally? Was this really so much about protecting her family from the gallows, or about her own spiteful desire to punish someone for believing he was better than everyone else?
“In truth, it’s his wealth you resent,” she muttered to no one in particular, “not a farthing of which he’d earned for himself.”
Beatrix’s inner battle waged on. The part of her that missed her father dearly and that ached for the mother who’d been stolen from her as a babe was willing to reconcile, to reunite a son with his dead mother’s token. But the other part, the stronger part of her nature, wanted to see him suffer for his ill treatment of others, even those among his own household, let alone common people among the countryside.
“He had the nerve to act as though I should have requested permission to be seated in his presence,” she fumed, still burning with humiliation. “As if his chamber pot looks any different from mine when it’s in need of emptying!”
Unsure of what to do or how to feel, Beatrix dropped down to the blanket and curled up beneath it,
hoping sleep would claim her soon. She lay in the darkness and looked out at the faint glow of moonlight, hoping the answers required would reveal themselves to her soon.
The days had stretched on and Aaron was growing more and more frantic. His men feared him, more so than they had before, and with good reason. As the minutes dragged into hours which ticked along into days, he became more impatient, more angry.
Most of all, he was riddled with feelings of guilt. Why had he ever let her go in his stead? What had he been thinking, allowing her to place herself in harm’s way such as this? He might rail at his men whenever they returned from searching for her empty-handed, but that was only a mask for what he truly knew: he alone had allowed this fate to befall his only child.
“Tilly, I’m so sorry,” he cried out in a drunken stupor that night. “I’ve failed ya, I have! I promised ya I would always look after her, but I’m no better father than an animal in the wood!”
The Stolen Diadem of a Castaway Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 7