Heather and I sat opposite of the two men. I was beginning to wonder if they were mutes, for they were as silent as the dead. One of them kept a vice-like grip on my leather suitcase.
I folded my hands on my lap and glanced at Heather.
Heather could sense my question. “Now we will go to Madam Desjardins,” She said as the carriage pulled away from the station. “I will warn you now that Madam is a Royal, so I expect you to treat her with the utmost respect.”
I shivered. “Yes, of course.”
I spent the rest of the ride in silence. I grasped my dress nervously, creasing the fabric and releasing it over and over. The curtains were drawn over the windows and I did not care to peek out and see the Capital up close. I sat rigid and obedient, too exhausted to make an attempt at small talk.
The carriage stopped, and the door opened a moment later. The coachman took my hand to help me out and then Heather. We stood in front of a three-story townhome, the rows of housing continuing down the block. The sidewalk was made of uniform paving stones and the small garden was edged with a tall, thin hedge.
I swallowed nervously, looking up at the white brick facade. There were wrought iron bars on the windows and the door was painted black to match. The house was unmarked, no signage or symbols to indicate what took place inside.
“Shall we?” Heather asked with a smile, gesturing forward.
I nodded slowly. I couldn’t help but glance behind me to see if there was any of chance escape, but the two men created a solid wall behind us. My heart trembled and my stomach turned. I forced my eyes ahead of me, trying not to let my fear show as we walked up the steps.
Heather knocked her knuckles against the wooden door, and it opened immediately.
A well-dressed butler stood there with a polite, tight-lipped smile. He bowed his head. “Ms. Igwe, so happy that you have returned.”
“Thank you, Roger,” Heather said, nodding her head to him.
“And this must be the newest member of the house?” Roger continued, his eyes lighting up when he saw me.
I blushed, but thankfully Heather cut me off before I could speak. “Yes, Miss. Violet will be joining us for a while.”
Roger nodded again and locked the door behind us. He went back to the mantel that he must have been polishing before we arrived.
The house was grand, even more so than a Minister’s house. The dark wooden trim gleamed, thick plush carpets in the center of every room, the dark wooden floor clean enough to reflect our shadows. The furniture was embroidered with floral patterns. The fireplace was not in use and I could see not a speck of ash. It smelled like a rich perfume and the lemon oil that Roger was using to clean the mantel.
Heather caught my gaze. “Lovely, isn’t it?”
I nodded. It was a far cry from the bloody hovel that I had imagined all night. I felt silly for letting my mind get carried away with me. If Madam Desjardins was a Royal, then there would be no doubt she would live with such luxuries.
“Follow me,” Heather ordered. She led me down the hall to a spacious washroom.
The ivory and black tiled room was in the same impeccable condition as the sitting room. Heather busied herself by starting a warm bath. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and held in a shriek. My curly hair was knotted and wild, my eyes were circled with black, my lips dry and chapped, and a purple thumb-shaped bruise marked the center of my throat.
“Here, a bath will revive you.” Heather stood and wiped her hands on a fluffy white towel. “I’ll get the kitchen to prepare breakfast for you.” The door closed behind her with a click.
I flew to the tiny window, standing on the toilet and pulling with all my might. I scrambled for a moment before realizing it was locked. I fumbled with the latch, but it wouldn’t budge. “No, no, no!” I hissed, prying at the metal until my fingers were numb.
Finally, I sank down, defeated. Where was I planning to go, anyway? My shoes were pinching my feet, meant for sitting at dinner parties, not escaping kidnappers. I had no jacket, no identification, and no idea where I was. I rested my forehead against the tiled wall, letting a single frustrated tear fall down my cheek.
I stripped off my wrinkled dress and undergarments. I felt like an animal, not having seen a toilet or a sink in an eternity. I relieved myself before sinking into the warm bath. The water enveloped me, and I let out a sigh. This tub was deeper than the one I had back at the manor; I sunk down all the way until my cheeks touched the water. There was a slight aroma of lavender. A soft sponge and soap sat on the shelf beside me.
I scrubbed my body and hair clean, then continued to soak until the water went cold. The longer I stayed hidden in the bathroom, the longer I would have before needing to speak to Heather again. I argued with myself, knowing that I shouldn’t blame her for my capture. It was my father who sent me away and contracted me to the mysterious Madam Desjardins.
There was a knock at the door. “Miss Violet, are you alright?” Heather asked.
“Yes,” I called out softly and forced myself to leave the comfort of the water.
“Good, I was worried you might have drowned,” Heather said and let out a chuckle.
I frowned, wondering how drowning could possibly be funny. Had other captives drowned themselves in fear of what would come next? I shivered and wrapped a towel around myself.
“Are you decent? May I come in?” Heather asked. “I brought you some fresh clothing.”
I glanced at the wrinkled dress I had left carelessly on the floor. “Yes, please come in.”
Heather opened the door and pocketed a ring of keys. She must have locked the door when she left. I truly was a prisoner here. Bundled in her arms was a burgundy dress. It was one of my favorite dresses from home. I wondered who my father had instructed to pack a bag for me. Heather handed me the clothes and left without a word.
Once I dressed and dried and pinned up my hair, Heather took me to a small dining room. It was not formal, just a small round table with four chairs. Someone had laid out a hearty breakfast of eggs, sausages, potatoes, cheese, and fruit.
The aroma made my stomach cramp and my lips tremble. It was a large portion, and I ate every bite. It took all my willpower to eat slowly and delicately, as a well brought up lady should.
Heather sat across from me, watching me and sipping black tea. When I finally pushed the plate away and sank back into the chair, Heather smiled. “How was that?”
“Delicious,” I replied, and I meant it.
“Good,” Heather said. “Bloodletters need to have a hearty diet to keep in good health.”
I grimaced and stared at the cup of tea in front of me. I pushed my anger towards my father and not Heather.
“If you’re all done, I have prepared a room for you upstairs,” Heather continued. “Madam will see you when she has a moment, but right now I would suggest getting some sleep.”
I had no strength to argue. “Very well.”
Heather led me upstairs and down a narrow hall. There were half a dozen identical doors to choose from. She stopped at one and unlocked it. “I know it’s not what you’re used to,” she said apologetically. “But please try to make yourself comfortable.”
The room was tiny. About the size of my closet back at the manor. There were two single beds with a dresser beside each. My suitcase was on the left side. There was a blue quilt folded at the end of the bed. The wallpaper had a floral pattern that matched the gauzy curtains. Immediately, I tried to open the window, but it was locked as well.
With a sigh, I settled down on the bed and closed my eyes. I fell asleep instantly.
∾
I woke up hours later. I sat up with a jolt, momentarily forgetting where I was. My heart sank as the events from the past day came back to me. I flung myself back onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling.
I remembered my suitcase, sitting propped up against the footboard. I opened it to find three other dresses and was surprised to see that they were my favorites. Underneath,
several pairs of stockings and undergarments, and a sweater folded neatly.
Then, at the very bottom, a piece of paper wrapped in a silk scarf. I choked, fresh tears springing to my eyes. It was the photo of my mother that I kept tucked into my mirror. On the back, there was a message scrawled. Don’t give up, Violet. Mrs. B. Mrs. Barber had been the one to pack my suitcase. What had father told her? If she was the only one who knew the truth, then her safety would be in jeopardy.
A clatter rang out as something fell from the silk scarf. It looked like a ring; I dropped to my knees to grab it before it rolled under the bed. When I opened my hand, my heart leaped into my throat. It was my mother’s amber ring. The one thing that my father had allowed me to keep of her. Mrs. Barber must have taken it from my trinket box. As the daughter of a Minister, I had countless precious jewels, but this was the only one that meant anything to me.
I whispered a prayer of gratitude to the old woman and pressed the photo against my chest. I folded the photo back into the scarf and put it at the bottom of the top drawer of the dresser. I piled my undergarments on top of it to make sure it wouldn’t be found. I slipped the amber ring on my right hand. It was made of silver filigree with a large amber stone in the center.
Once all my belongings were away, I shoved the suitcase under my bed and sat. How long would it be before Heather came for me? I thought about trying the window again but shrugged the hope away. Maybe Madam Desjardins would be a reasonable woman and agree to let me go. After all, I was a Minister’s daughter, not some common girl. But, if she agreed to cancel the contract, where could I go? It wasn’t as if I could return to the manor after what my father had done. I chewed my bottom lip nervously.
The turning doorknob snapped me from my worries. I looked up, expecting to see Heather, but instead, it was a slight, pale girl who looked younger than me.
The girl gasped, her round blue eyes growing wider. “Excuse me!” She exclaimed and her white face flushed red. “I didn’t realize you were in here. Heather told me I was getting a new roommate.” She trailed off.
The other half of the room had been so impeccably tidy that I hadn’t even considered that someone might have been using it. I stood and smoothed out my dress. “Not at all,” I said, recalling countless etiquette lessons. “It is your room too, after all. My name is Violet,” I hesitated, not knowing if I should tell her I was an Ackerman. I decided against it for now.
The girl looked relieved. “Amelia.” She shook my hand lightly. “A pleasure.” Amelia was very thin, pale, and slightly shorter than me. Her brown hair hung straight, falling past her shoulders. She wore a casual white cotton dress and brown loafers.
A million questions came to mind, but I held them back. I didn’t want to seem rude or desperate. The silence stretched between us and I began to worry about what to say next. Judging by her expression, she was just as anxious.
“Well, I hope you don’t snore.” Amelia laughed nervously.
I forced a weak giggle. “Not to worry, I don’t.” More unbearable silence. “Ahem, anyway,” I continued. “Do you happen to know where Heather would be? She said she would to take me to see the Madam.”
Amelia’s lips pressed into a thin line. She hesitated and then spoke. “Oh, I see. Well, Heather is busy all the time. I’ve been here a year and I still can never seem to find her when I need her.”
“A year?” I breathed.
Amelia nodded. “You, uh, you do know why you’re here, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said. I couldn’t look her in the eye.
“It’s really not so bad when you get used to it,” Amelia added.
There was a knock at the door. The knock that I remembered distinctly as Heather’s. The door opened and confirmed my guess. “Oh, Amelia!” Heather looked surprised to see my new roommate. “You’re back already? Has Dr. Coleman cleared you for tomorrow?”
“Yes, the tests are fine,” Amelia replied. “I was just going to rest before dinner.”
“Fine, fine.” Heather waved her hand and turned her attention to me. “Violet, I’m glad you’re awake. Madam Desjardins will see you now.”
FOUR
I MET MADAM DESJARDINS IN HER STUDY.
The door was open. It was a small, dark room with burgundy wallpaper. A small stained-glass window and a single lamp illuminated the space with a warm glow. The Madam was sitting at a mahogany writing desk, recording something in a large journal.
“Excuse me, Madam? May I introduce Miss Violet Ackerman,” Heather said.
Madam Desjardins looked up from her work. “Ah, yes, please come in.”
Heather nudged me over the threshold with a firm hand. “Relax, she won’t bite.” Heather whispered to me. She stepped back and shut the door.
I was alone with Madam. My eyes adjusted to the dim lighting as I stared straight ahead, not daring to make eye contact.
Madam Desjardins stood. She was much older looking than I imagined. She was delicate, with pale wrinkled skin and snow-white hair styled in a twist with a golden hair comb. Her floor length black gown had a high lace collar and long sleeves. Her lips were painted red and her eyes were dusted in gray. The string of pearls around her neck glinted in the lamplight. She was a picture of elegance and class.
My mouth went dry. “Good afternoon,” I forced myself to whisper.
Madam Desjardins smiled. It was a tight-lipped smile that showed more in her eyes that her mouth. She seemed amused as she looked me up and down. “Miss Violet Ackerman, is it?” She said finally. Her voice was stronger than I had expected.
I nodded. “Yes, Madam.” I kept my hands behind my back and clenched them tightly.
Madam gestured to a table with two chairs opposite the writing desk. “Please, sit down.”
I obeyed dumbly, sitting and settling my trembling hands on my lap. I glanced at her repeatedly as she moved about the small study. There was a tea set on a serving cart. Madam laid out two cups on a silver tray and poured the first cup.
“Would you like some tea?” She asked me.
“Oh, no, thank you,” I stammered. Shouldn’t she have servants for this?
Madam chuckled under her breath. “Please don’t be shy, girl,” she said. “I will be feeding you for the next while, after all.”
“Oh.” My cheeks burned. “Very well, I’ll have one. Please.” I added hastily.
She brought the tray to the small table and sat down.
I tried not to tap my feet impatiently. I kept my hands calm enough to take the tea from her before quickly hiding them under the table again. I was just served tea by a Royal – a Royal who technically owned me for the next year and a half.
“So, how was your trip?” Madam asked as she poured milk into her tea.
I almost laughed. Her tone was light as if she had asked how I enjoyed a holiday. “Fine,” I replied, squeezing my knees. I bit my lip but couldn’t control the outburst that came next. “Why is this happening? What did I do wrong? Why would my father sell me like this?” I gasped, clapping a hand to my mouth.
Madam Desjardins didn’t seem shocked by my explosion. She finished stirring her tea and set the silver spoon into the saucer before looking up. “You did nothing wrong, child.”
I inhaled and choked. I wanted to ask a million questions, but they were lodged in my throat.
“As for your father, I cannot speak to his motives,” the lady continued. “But if he sent you away in the manner he did, maybe it’s best for you to be here.” Her green eyes flicked up to me.
I shrank back in the mahogany chair. “Yes,” I whispered.
“I assure you, Miss Ackerman, you will be safe here.” Madam Desjardins said.
My lips trembled, but I would not cry in front of her. I was strong. I was the educated, politically savvy young lady that my mother had raised. I stood up straight and set my shoulders. I put aside the issues with my father and whatever terrible reasons he had betrayed me for. I had to focus on the now. I had to focus on the future. “So, yo
u signed a contract to become my guardian?” I asked.
Madam tipped her head slightly. “I guess you could put it that way,” she answered. “Though it is more of an employment contract.”
“And when I turn nineteen?” I fired out my next question.
“Then, as a legal adult, you can decide whether or not you will continue employment with me.” She raised her eyebrows. “This isn’t a prison,” she added. “You will be paid, and I will hold the amount in trust until you decide to leave.”
“What will become of me until then?”
Madam sipped her tea. “Well, you will begin training as a Bloodletter,” she said. “Heather will guide you through the process.”
“And if I refuse?”
Madam sipped her tea again and set down the china cup carefully. The silence filled the room.
I held my breath. Suddenly, the Royal side of her was visible. I could feel the energy shift around us.
“Well,” She said. “If you choose to leave us, you would be homeless, penniless, and lost in a city of strangers.”
A shiver ran down my spine.
“Not every Royal is as kind as me, Miss Ackerman,” she said. “I realize that you may be ignorant in the ways of the world, but I would not test the waters so quickly.”
My stomach felt heavy. I bowed my head and stared at my teacup. “I apologize, Madam.” I ran my finger around the golden rim of the cup.
“You’re not the first fiery girl to walk into my house,” Madam continued. “And I admire your spirit. However, the monsters within these walls are nothing compared to the monsters that lurk beyond.”
∾
Dinner was served in a formal room with a long table. There were twelve chairs in total, but only five were filled when Heather brought me in. The center of the table was filled with a wide selection of food. Roast lamb, spinach salad, mixed vegetables, hot bean soup, and bread. The three young women and two men had already helped themselves and were making idle conversation when we arrived.
The Bloodletters Page 3