‘Do you want to play tag?’ he asked and I nodded. I had never played before.
‘What do you do?’ I asked curiously and his green eyes danced
'You simply run away from the person who is It.’
‘It?’
‘Yes and then when the person who is it touches someone, that person is it.’
‘And they chase the others?’ The boy nodded and I understood. I had never played with children before this!
‘Who is it?’
‘Me!’ Sara cried and we all bolted to life. I giggled and ran as my sister knowing she'd never catch me chased after Alex. He was easily tagged and he went after me. I dodged and bounded easily away from his hand.
‘You can't catch me Alex!’ I squealed with laughter as he finally caught me.
‘Yes I can! Tag!’
‘Charlotte!’ All three of us halted, Alexander bumping into me. It was Mama.
‘What are you doing outside? You know you'll get sick!’ she scolded.
‘But Mama, I was playing tag!’ I protested as the tears came. I did not want to go inside, I wanted to play. I wanted to have friends.
‘No, none of this when you are sick. Sara go and take care of Alexander.’ But Alexander was watching me with wide green eyes, sadly as my mother scooped me up and carried me back. I waved at him softly and he waved back.
‘Bye, Pretty Hair.’ I heard him say.
Sara later told me he pouted and threw a fit the whole day when he was told he could not see me. It made me happier.
I always wondered about the chestnut haired boy."
She reeled internally, so that was how she knew Alexander! Did he remember her? These questions vanished as another page turned again and she read aloud in her mind.
1803 Months later...
"I am in the hospital, and I am so, so sick. I cannot find my bun-bun. Where is it? I can feel a little hand in mine.
My sister. I open my eyes.
‘Sara?’ my voice feels dry and scratchy. I am frightened and I want my Mummy, I try use her first name, the one I only use on special occasions but I feel only dust in my throat.
We are lying in a hospital bed, there are many around us, but I cannot see them because of the walls. They are sick and coughing. My sister looks so sick. Sicker than I feel and I wonder what is wrong with us. Her pretty blond hair is shaved, as is mine, we had lice in our hair and the doctors said it had to go. I feel like a fuzzy chick.
‘Sissy?’ I reached out and patted her hand. She opened her dull bright eyes
‘Hi.’ she croaked.
‘I'm sleepy Charlotte,’ she whispered and I felt even in my six-year-old heart a crack form.
"Well, we need to get better for Mommy and Papa." I said firmly, not usually the one to be in charge of us…we weren’t single entities, we were one. Like peas inside a pod, or two halves of an apple like Mama used to cut for us in equal shares.
Sara always was the one with the plan. She was always the one to push me out the door. She was always the one to make me smile when I was sick. The Doctors explained to Mama and Papa that I was weaker because Mama had been sick, and I would get better with age...But now what would happen, why wasn't I this sick? I lay by my sister's side as she wheezed through her breathing. I was determined to stay awake, but it was not to be.
I awoke alone in my bed at home. Sara and her bun-bun were gone. I hugged my rabbit to my chest feeling the bell tinkle into the darkness as my mother swooped in hearing that I was awake, while the doctor checked my eyes ‘Mama?’ I cried.
‘Oh, my dear sweet girl! My little Princess!’ Mama's eyes were all swollen and puffy, her hair disheveled. I saw Papa leaning against the doorway looking ages older.
‘Papa?’
‘I'm here Princess,’ he said softly his dark eyes lost and sad, the blond hair I loved dull and brassy as if uncared for.
‘Sara?’
They both hung their heads as if trying to find a way to tell me she was gone. But I knew, as the shoulder shaking sobs took over them both.
‘Sara went to heaven.’ I said and both of them broke down. My mother clutching my small sweat drenched form, my fever still breaking. “I want to go, she can’t go without me…’ at this my mother nearly became frantic.
‘You'll never leave us Princess. You can never leave mommy.’ She shook in tears and for some reason; I knew that her heart was already broken. I knew my mother loved me, more than anything . . . It was there in her tight smile when she'd sing me to sleep, or tuck me in with my bun-bun. Sara's locket is put into my Bun-Bun so that I will always have her. Her rabbit is missing. Her presence is gone, and we as a family are never the same."
Charlotte's heart ached desperately “Sara...my sister," her mind cried out at the pain in the memories. But they were drowned as another memory swept over her.
1811 August 21 . . .
"’Mother?’ I called going into the kitchens. I was fifteen, and it was my birthday on August 21st. I am excited, as mother has been preparing me to go out into society when I turned eighteen. My uncle has been adamant about it not happening.
Mother calls him a drunk. Papa does not speak to him anymore. Lottie is very sweet though, her mama died a few years ago and she comes over to play with me often. She has curly black hair and we play dolls and run around the house playing pirates or adventures. I stop short at the door to Papa's office ready to sneak in and surprise him with my 'birthday hug'. But I hear heavy footsteps and deep voices, ‘What the hell are you thinking James!’ Uncle is mad.
‘I want Charlotte safe.’ Papa said.
‘Well what about me and Lottie?’ he sounds upset.
Papa sounds very angry and I shake ‘You should have thought of that before you wasted the money on gambling and horses!’ he spat. Uncle Richard starts pacing
‘Nothing, nothing is what you leave me?’
‘I shall leave a stipend.’
"Hardly enough to keep one person!" Uncle shouts. Papa slams a hand on his desk and I hold back a squeak.
‘Hold your tone in my house!’ Papa snarls, ‘It is my Charlotte's birthday. You shall not ruin it with your talk.’
‘You already house her like a prisoner.’ Uncle snarls.
‘She will be meeting Cromwell's son soon.’
‘What?’ Richard sounds as if he cannot believe his ears. ‘You had that setup for Sara.’
‘Sara had told me when I asked if she liked him, that Cromwell's son liked Charlotte better...’ Papa sounded sad, reserved but he chuckles ‘Sara said that Alexander liked Charlotte's pretty hair.’
‘Well it's red like a flame.’ Richard said sarcastically ‘In my mind it's not of this world.’
‘Well that isn't for you to judge why God gave it to her, our mother had it. My wife has it!’
‘And I thought it queer then too!’
Papa growled low in his chest and stood, I could hear his feet plant on the floor with a thump. ‘You will get nothing from my estate when I am dead and gone, Charlotte shall have what she deserves, and it shall go to Alexander when they are to be married.’
‘And when will this happy meeting take place?’ Richard sounds sarcastic.
‘When she is eighteen.’ Papa states coolly.
I tiptoe away feeling everything in my being vibrate. The green-eyed boy, is that who Papa is talking about? He said his name was Alexander... I am excited, but will he remember me?"
Did he remember me? Charlotte wondered. Finally...the final pieces of the puzzle struck her. The final two pages of her memories stuck out to her like blood on a page.
1813 . . .
"My parents are ill. And I am not. Papa has already passed away and the Doctors are looking over Mama with a shaking head and a sad expression. My heart is breaking all over again. I sit by my Mama and I pat her head with a cool cloth, she opens her blue eyes and sighs happily. "Where is Sara? I want both of my girls."
"Sara is waiting Mama, she's here." I bite my lip not wanting to break the
smile from her face.
"My good girls." she whispers and I take her hand.
"Mama we love you."
"I love you too my sweet girls." Her teal eyes close and she exhales still smiling.
She is gone.
Richard is standing in the other room. He does not look sad. No, he looks fortuitous. It makes me enraged. But he will get nothing, of this I know."
So that was what Richard wants! And finally...the day she discovered her fortune, and the night she lost everything came into perfect clarity, as if she relived it.
1814... August 21st.
"I have turned 18. My executor is sitting at the opposite side of my Papa's desk. We live in Caversham; it was where my parents fled after Sara died. I have stayed. He is going over my parent's will. I am a wealthy woman. I have over two hundred thousand pounds in my own finances, not including my work places such as the toyshop Papa had bought after he had gotten our toys. I sigh rubbing my temples, this makes my head hurt very much. But I manage very well as my executor and lawyer smile at me.
"You are doing so well Charlotte. We will be getting ready for you to go out into society!" they both seemed to have taken on a fatherly role. Jeeves my lawyer glanced at me proudly.
"Thank you, Jeeves. Armin." Ermine grinned as he closed the books. I heard a tap at the door. "Come in."
Uncle Richard was there. I sighed "What do you want Uncle?"
He came in, looking humble. "I was wondering if I could ask for a loan." he licked his lips and his eyes were bloodshot. I saw him twitching.
"What you need is time in a hospital you look awful." he was family, and Lottie's father...so I had to show some concern, yes?
He simply scoffed "And what the hell do you know of sickness."
"I know you do not look well, Uncle."
"Well...about the loan."
"No." I said calmly.
"What?" he snapped.
"The answer is no." I said firmly and my executor and lawyer watched me amazed.
My Uncle sputtered rather unattractively "But- Lottie-"
"Will be taken care of here. She shall move in with me and she shall be presented upon her eighteenth birthday." I loved my cousin Lottie, I would never let her starve, she is a few years younger than I. But...but my Uncle had not even shed a tear at his brother's death.
How could I deal with that?
Uncle looked deadly. "You'll regret this you little bitch." My lawyer was up in a flash and he and my butler had him by the collar and threw him out."
Charlotte's fragile mind took in the last scene with disturbing realization. He could not have the fortune unless she was dead, that meant he had to kill her. He probably did not tell Giselle this...Her final memory engulfed her.
Early spring 1814, Evening . . .
“I was fast asleep, I dreamed of Sara. We ran, and ran, and ran. We danced and laughed and played with our rabbits. She was so beautiful, all grown up. Her wild blue eyes and pale hair contrasting beautifully.
‘Sara. I miss you.’ I whispered as in my dream we lay on the grass facing each other as we always had in our beds or on the floor.
Hand in hand. "I'll always be with you. Together forever." We linked fingers like so many nights in our shared bed.
‘I love you,’ we both whispered.
Something awakened me from my sound sleep as I heard my father’s old dog bark. Papa's hunting dog never barked unless on the scent or if something was wrong! I heard footsteps and my heart raced...everyone should have been asleep. Sure enough the door opened, and I saw a black figure in it.
‘Who are you!’ I demanded and the shadow lunged, I caught the glint of a knife and fell off my bed, the canopy crashing down against the weight of my assailant as they charged, tripping thankfully on the rug and slamming into the bedpost. The canopy managed to stop him for a moment, catching him in a trap.
I could go out the door; people were trying to break it in as it is locked. He would have caught me if I had tried to open it. My candle that I had lit in haste knocks to the floor and flames light the carpet barely missing the curtains. I panic, where do I go? What do I do!
The window!
Quick as I could I climbed out, my night rail is thin and the rain plasters to me. I am so cold. But as I take one more step down I slip and my head hits the tree. Stars go off behind my eyes. Ouch!
I land on my back and the air rushes from me. My assailant is looking out the window with a sharp blade in his hand.
Uncle.
I run as fast as I can. Remembering my father's warning before he died "Be careful with whom you trust, Charlotte, until you are married you are not safe." I reach the woods behind the house, the woods I know so well having snuck out to them plenty in the night, down the small embankment and-
But when I tried to jump...my foot slipped on the flat rock that normally launched me to the other side of the little ditch...I fall. I am falling. And then, there is darkness and peace.
But in the darkness and peace my current situation comes back... I want Alexander . . . I want to go home . . . “Alex where are you?”
Charlotte felt her mind come back...slowly, ever so slowly and she heard the world around her begin to drag her back to the reality from which she was desperate to escape.
CHAPTER 22
The lamplight startled her awake, as did the door swinging open. She heard footsteps and panicked unable to see in the darkness quickly as she came to.
What is going to happen to me? She desperately thought.
But she saw skirts in her view "mmmhfrmmm" through the gag of linen she whimpered and cried.
"Are you really pregnant?" it was Giselle!
"Mmhmm! Mmhmm! Ahmmmf Mmrpreff!" She mumbled affirmation nearly violently and soon her linen gag was off and Giselle knelt in front of her.
"If it was just you...It'd be one thing, I thought maybe we'd just ship you off to the Americas. But he wants to kill you." She hesitated and Charlotte looked at her beseechingly.
"Help me,” she whispered and the older woman's grey eyes widened "Please." she begged.
"I told Richard I was going to ask you questions...Here, he is asleep..." she had a bowlful of thick broth and beef, potatoes and carrots; she began spoon-feeding her. Charlotte gulped it down greedily. "I found Lottie...She is to tell Alexander where we are..."
"What?" Her surprise was evident. "Why?"
"It was not my intention for you to be hurt." Giselle said grimly.
"Did you-did you really kill your sister?" Charlotte gasped between bites.
"He told me it was the only way to help her..." Giselle looked stricken, "He said he loved me and loved Evelyn and did not want her to suffer. She was so sick..." Giselle's face turned inward it seemed in pain.
"Who told you?" Charlotte pressed.
"Cromwell." Giselle sobbed suddenly. "I loved Evelyn...She was so sick, Alexander doesn't remember...She was soooooo sick." Charlotte looked at her bewildered as the older woman wept.
"I met Richard...and he made me feel alright. Cromwell was heart broken that Evelyn had died. He hardly ever looked at me and he never touched me. He ignored me, and only very little did he fight for me in circles when I was shunned. He got sick too, but a different type of sick; he was heartsick...And he asked me to..."
"Do the same for him, as you did with Evelyn." Charlotte put the pieces together. "But me? Why me?"
"That was an accident, Richard said if you just vanished that he'd get the inheritance. I had never meant for it to be that strong, just enough to get you sick, to leave! But cooking it, I don’t know how I knew I put in too much!" She gripped Charlotte's hand. "So I dropped a hint to Sophie who looked at me strangely, but once you became sick she knew.”
Charlotte watched Giselle stop for but a moment, trying to collect herself, she then continued. “Then Alexander sent me away. Richard told me that you were cruel, and mean and spoiled. But I did not see it." Giselle sobbed into her hands. "Forgive me! Please Charlotte, forgive me. I'd n
ever have taken you if I thought he'd kill you. I had no idea you were with child! Alexander does not know it, but I do love him as if he were my own! But I have been in poverty...I couldn't go back. No! I won't go back! I'll go to the nut house first!" Charlotte glared at her.
"Shh, he'll hear you." She hissed.
Giselle waved her hand absently her eyes going sharp again, "He is drunk and asleep." She shook her head. "He is a lout. I should have known all along. Lottie is a good girl. Poor thing."
The Rake and The Rose (A Rake's Mistake) Page 27