Twisted Ever After

by Celeste Thrower

  She thought about going to check on the situation, since usually the servants were so discreet. Then she decided against it. She didn’t want to embarrass them by showing up and enquiring about what they were doing. Maybe they were simply enjoying themselves. They all worked hard and deserved to be able to relax. The noise stopped and Josephine made up her mind to forget about it. She covered up with her soft quilts and went back to sleep.

  Josephine wanted to keep exploring, but she was held off by the demands of keeping the large household running and functioning. She didn’t realize how much work she would need to do when Henri was gone. It was freeing not to have to worry about keeping in his good graces, but she didn’t feel comfortable with all the decisions she would have to make in his absence.

  It was nearly a month later when she was again climbing the stairs, key ring tied to her sash, and ready to see what awaited her on the third floor. The layout was mostly the same as that of the second floor, and she wondered if at the end of the hall there would be another beautiful sunroom filled with plants.

  Again, she found more guest bedrooms, beautiful but boring. Except maybe the room at the end of the hall, the one with the rose painted on the door. The room she wasn’t allowed to enter.

  A feeling of curiosity and rebellion stole over her, and she reached out her hand and tried the knob. Locked. She had the key and Henri was gone. No. She took her hand away. It was for the best. She didn’t want to anger Henri upon his return. She smoothed her hair from her face and that’s when she heard it.

  The softest sigh. Just a breath of exhalation. Josephine turned on her heels to look down the hall, but she saw no one. She turned back to the door with the rose painted on it.

  Feeling more fear now than curiosity, she bent down, and looked into the keyhole of the door.

  There was another eye staring right back at her, deep brown and unblinking.

  Josephine screamed and fell back, her heart pounding hard against her ribs. She got to her feet and ran back to her room. She jumped onto her bed and covered herself with the quilts, laying there until Rema came in to check on her.

  “Mistress? I’ve been searching for you everywhere. Mrs. Laussier had a question about what tea service you’d like to use for-” Rema stopped, sensing her mistress’s distress. “Oh- dear, are you alright? What’s happened?”

  Josephine didn’t want to explain. She just knew Rema would think she was losing her mind. And maybe she was. How could someone be locked in a room with no one knowing. It wasn’t possible. It must have been her imagination.

  “It’s nothing,” she told Rema, “Just took a nap and had a nightmare. That’s all.” She smiled and Rema looked at her doubtfully.

  “Well, let’s go get some tea from Mrs. Beaufort and get you all settled down.” Josephine agreed and they went down to the kitchen.

  Josephine gave up on her explorations, and like all the troubling things she’d seen in her mind, tried to forget the eye in the keyhole. She managed the household dutifully and ignored the third floor. There were a few more nights with disturbances and she ignored those too, and before she knew it Henri was back from India. He sent a letter ahead of his arrival. Josephine conspired with Mrs. Laussier and Mrs. Beaufort to throw him a party and welcome him home. She decided it was time to forgive Gerard and invited him along with their other brothers, Julian and Louis.

  The planning was easy, as Mrs. Beaufort and Mrs. Laussier had thrown many parties for the Barbeaus over the years. Josephine chose colors, foods, the guest list, and sat back and watched it all come together like magic. Few of the guests lived far enough away that they would need to stay overnight, but they prepared several of the rooms just in case.

  Henri had been gone for two months and Josephine wanted to start his time back home on the right foot. She and Rema went through all of her many gowns, looking for something special that might catch his eye. Rema saw it first.

  It had a long black silk skirt, with a black tulle overlay. The corset also was black, with tiny silver opalescent sequin painstakingly stitched on. Josephine had never laid eyes on anything so gorgeous, not even her wedding dress. Oh yes, this was the dress. She decided to forgo any jewelry except for her wedding ring and a silver headpiece with three opals that hung down onto her forehead, reminiscent of a princess’s tiara.

  Henri arrived home the morning of the party, before Josephine awoke. She didn’t see him the entire day as they both had to dress and prepare for the party, and Henri had some sort of business to take care of with one of the tenant farmers. Before the first guests arrived. she came downstairs to greet them at the door. Henri was already there, waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. She smiled at him but he simply nodded at her. She didn’t let her smile falter. She wondered if this was just part of life now. Pasting a false smile on her face, standing at the side of a man who cared nothing for her, all the while wanting to scream at him.

  Then the guests began to arrive and she focused on them. Her brothers were among the last to arrive, and she hugged each of them tightly as they entered. Gerard squeezed her hand and she squeezed it back, and they understood that they had forgiven each other, and the past would remain in the past. Louis kissed her head and put an arm around her shoulders. “Show me your palace, dear sister,” he commanded while Julian rolled his eyes.

  “Don’t embarrass her, Louis, or Henri may kick us out,” he chastised their youngest brother. Josephine just smiled, happy to be back among them where she truly belonged.

  There was dinner, dancing, tea, and cigars. It was near the end of the night and the gentlemen and ladies had separated. The ladies were in love with Josephine’s dress, and they also speculated about when she might go from new wife to new mother. Josephine laughed their comments off, but inside she began to fret. New mother? She was still learning how to be a wife and run this house.

  Soon it began to be too much. All the women fluttering around her with their opinions and advice. Josephine imagined she was in the middle of them all and they were closing in on her. Closer and closer until she was unable to breathe. Her chest felt tight.

  “Excuse me...” She could barely get the words out, and she headed for the stairs. She went up to the second floor where a group of servants waited. They paused when they saw her, ready to help her, but she shook her head and kept climbing the stairs until she reached the third floor.

  Relief flooded her when she reached the third floor landing. No one else was there. She leaned against the wall. She just needed a few moments to be alone. Her heart suddenly stopped when she heard a voice that seemed to come from down the hall.

  “You should run away,” the voice said to her.

  Josephine turned her head and saw the door with the red rose. She sensed something was there, behind the door, waiting for her, drawing her to it. Her legs shook, but she turned and began walking towards the room. When she reached the door she placed a nervous hand on the knob.

  Once again a vision came over her. Blood splattered across her husband, his eyes filled with rage. A sneer she had never seen on his face. He held a cast iron book-end, molded into a ship, and brought it down over and over and over. She couldn’t see who he was attacking, but over his shoulder, under the bed, she saw the little girl. Her eyes filled with terror and she held her hands clamped over her mouth to keep herself quiet.

  The vision faded, and Josephine felt nausea come over her in a wave. All her life she knew she’d never forget the sound of the bookend hitting flesh. She knew her mind couldn’t invent something like this. This was the past, and she could no longer deny what was being shown to her.

  Her hand was still on the knob. It took all of her courage. The door was locked and the key remained in its box in her room. She let the knob go and exhaled a shuddering breath. Here was her excuse to leave the door closed, and not to risk her husband’s wrath. She turned to go.

  “Take me with you. Please. Let me out and we can run together,” the voice said, and now Josephine could he
ar it was a girl’s voice. She hesitated.

  “Are...are you real?” she asked the voice.

  “What? Of course I’m real. You saw me before, looking at you. Didn’t you?” the girl asked. Josephine nodded, though surely the girl couldn’t see her. The dark brown eye, it had been her.

  “I’ll come back, there are too many people now, but I’ll come back,” Josephine began walking away in a daze.

  “Promise!” the girls voice shouted. Josephine couldn’t form any more words to reassure her, but in her mind she swore to the unseen girl she would return.

  Josephine made her way back down to the noise of the party, slowly coming to terms with the fact there was a girl secretly locked up in a room above them. She mingled, smiling her false smile, and nodding at the ladies as she made her way through the room. Who was the girl? Why was she there? Who was taking care of her?

  Josephine stopped moving, and turned her head sharply to the corner of the room.

  Mrs. Laussier.

  She stood there at the edge of the room, hidden in the shadow of the corner watching the guests, waiting to be needed. Henri had mentioned she’d worked for his family for quite some time. She had to be the one. Maybe Henri wasn’t even aware of the girl? He wasn’t home much, and Mrs. Laussier could certainly get away with a lot if she made an effort. Yet that didn’t feel right to Josephine. Either way, she had to speak to the older woman. If she wasn’t responsible, she certainly knew something about it. She didn’t believe for a moment Henri cleaned up all that blood by himself.

  She continued her hostess duties, placing the fake smile back on her face, the one that had become so familiar to her. Inwardly she felt sick, and she wanted nothing more than to run upstairs and throw the mysterious door open to let the girl out. Somehow she just had to do it without Henri finding out.

  The next day, after the overnight guests had all departed, she sought out Mrs. Laussier. She found her in a guest bedroom, collecting linens to be laundered. Josephine entered the room and closed the door behind them to ensure their privacy.

  “Mrs. Laussier. I think you should tell me about the girl. The girl on the third floor.”

  The older women went pale, and began shaking her head, “Madame...I..I..” She sat on the bed and put her face into her hands. “I try to take care of her. I...I’m afraid to defy Mr. Barbeau.”

  “Well, how long has she been in there? Doesn’t she ever come out? I mean...who is she?” Josephine questioned.

  “She’s his daughter, and her name is Amelia. From his third wife, Emily. She’s really a sweet, beautiful girl. He told me she is too sick to be around others, that she is mentally fragile. That he’s afraid she would be hurt if she were allowed to roam about. I...I don’t think that’s true. But she is his daughter and he has a right...and, truthfully, I’m afraid of him. We are all afraid of him.”

  “Third wife?” Josephine’s forehead wrinkled, “How many wives has he had?” Josephine’s knees grew weak and she sat on the bed. The other woman took her hand and squeezed it.

  “You’re the fourth. The first one, Amie, they were only married two years when he took her with him on one of his expeditions. He returned without her, and offered us no explanation. Annette was the second. She saw who he was right away, and in the end she tried to run. But it was the dead of night. She was never found. I have my suspicions, but even if I voiced them, I doubt anything could ever be proved.”

  “And Emily?” Josephine whispered the question.

  “Ahh, Emily. She was beautiful, but not strong of will.” Mrs. Laussier took a shuddering breath. “She hung herself from the stairway.”

  The two women sat side by side for a few moments in silence.

  “How long has she been locked in there, the girl, Amelia?” Josephine finally asked again.

  “It’s been seven years,” the woman stated and then gave in to her tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have helped her.”

  “But...didn’t anyone wonder what happen to her? Didn’t they notice her missing? Or her mother for that matter?” Josephine was incredulous.

  Mrs. Laussier gave a sad laugh. “Who would notice besides us servants? He told everyone else Emily had slipped and fallen down the stairs holding the girl and they both perished. Her parents never had much to do with her anyway, they didn’t even show up to the funeral. It’s been easy for him. They’ve all been replaceable to him. And so are you.”

  Josephine turned and left the room, softly closing the door behind her. She went to her own rooms and retrieved the ring of keys and placed them in her pocket. Amelia would not spend another day locked in that room. Come what may, that door was opening for good.

  Josephine took a deep breath and turned the key in the lock. She heard a soft click, and then turned the knob. She had the sudden feeling that when the door opened a river of blood would flow from it, knocking her on her feet. Instead she found a book case against one wall, with an iron bookend - its mate conspicuously missing. She saw the four poster bed with the green duvet from her vision. A pretty, though thin and pale girl of about twelve sat on it reading a book. She looked up as the door creaked, big brown eyes, like her father’s, wide with surprise. She threw the book to the floor and ran to Josephine, wrapping her skinny arms around her.

  “I knew you’d come, I knew it. Are we leaving now?” Amelia smiled up at her, so hopeful and optimistic despite a life that had been so stifled. Josephine squeezed her back and blinked back tears.

  “Yes, we’re leaving this instant.” She took Amelia’s hand in hers and they turned to leave. They made it to the stair landing, where they ran into Henri, waiting for them.

  “Why is it so hard for women to obey? I had one rule. One. And I see you’ve broken it.” He glanced at his daughter, who now shook in fear. “ Amelia, go back to your room, I will punish you later.” His dark eyes filled with rage and some sort of sick glee. Josephine recognized the look. He’d been wearing it when he had beat Emily to death. She positioned herself in front of Amelia.

  “It’s fine, Henri. I don’t mind raising your daughter. Let’s raise her together and be a family.” Josephine had hoped they’d be able to silently slip away. She could tell by his vicious glare there was no way she and Amelia would survive the night. She shouldn’t have been so impetuous. She should have waited for the next business trip, when they could have left easily then, and ran to her brothers. Her brothers. “Henri...my brothers. They’ll miss me. They won’t accept excuses.”

  Henri’s laughter reverberated off the walls. “Your brothers will take my money and never say a word against me. They were quick to marry you off, and you clearly think more highly of them than they do of you.”

  He lunged at her then, and she tried to turn and run, but he stepped on the back of her dress causing her to fall to her face. Amelia crouched beside her, ready to help her up, but Henri growled at her, “GET TO YOUR ROOM!”

  With a squeak of fear the girl jumped up and ran back to room she had grown up in. Josephine groaned and tried to stand, but Henri pushed her back down causing her to bite her tongue. She moaned in pain and he bent down, a leg to either side of her trapping her in place. He grabbed her and rolled her over to face him.

  Those eyes, the sneer. She was in the same position Emily had been in when he killed her.

  “No!” she shouted, but he just laughed.

  “No what? You’re my wife and I’ll do with you as I please. Including disposing of you. I won’t accept disobedience! I will not tolerate it!” He pulled back a fist meaning to hit her, but Josephine was quick. She might be a proper young lady, but she had grown up fighting with her brothers. She rolled her head away enough to dodge the blow and brought a knee up.

  He grunted and his face turned red, but he did not fall over as she’d hoped. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but she had only succeeded in making him more angry.

  “I will not tolerate it! I will not!” He grabbed her by the hair, forcing her to stand and began drag
ging her towards the stairs.

  “No! No!” She reached out and scratched his face and he roared with rage.

  “How dare you!” He had her at the railing now and she knew he meant to throw her over. Josephine was desperate, she wasn’t strong enough to win a fight with him. She struggled against him, all their grunts and thuds loud as thunder in the otherwise silent house. The only sound she could hear was the jangling of keys in her pocket. The keys! It was her only chance. She snaked a hand into her pocket and brought them out, one sticking out from her fist.

  She screamed and jammed it at his face, and kept stabbing until she couldn’t pull it back anymore. He had let her go and was wailing, blood flowing down his face like tears, the iron key sticking out from his eye. The rest of the keys and the ring stuck out absurdly from his face. She didn’t stop to think, but grabbed him and pushed him over the railing while he froze with shock and pain.

  It was over.

  She peaked down and saw Henri’s lifeless body lying on the cold tile. Then she called to Amelia, who ran to her. They sat there holding each other for a long time.

  There was an inquiry but the process wasn’t drawn out. Josephine was from a known and respected family, and held above suspicion. The death of Baron Henri de Barbeau was ruled a tragic accident.

  Josephine had discovered she was with child not long after the ruling. She feared for her child, and worried it would inherit its fathers murderous tendencies. But when the baby stirred its foot in her womb, she placed her hand there and saw a little girl, who looked so much like herself, sitting in a field of flowers laughing with Amelia.

  She knew then they would all be together, safe and happy.