Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  They scolded her the first several times she did it, but by about the twelfth escape attempt they just ordered that whomever found her outside had to watch her in case she did anything dangerous or naughty.

  William knew better than to do it again. Now that she got to walk around, she found that she could test her limits more safely than when she had sprinted, and found that she could push her limits more safely than when she had broken into a dead run. She could feel the muscles slowly reform in her long unused legs, and felt the flush of her warm blood flowing through her cheeks and her limbs. She felt much stronger and warmer out here in the cold and the country more than she ever felt lounging in the city.

  She also encountered Mr. Bernadotte out on the grounds, and it seemed to her that her heart skipped a beat and her already flushed cheeks felt a little warmer. She also felt embarrassed to meet his eye, and pretended to admire the sights... and to not notice his wide grin.

  "Well, look who's finally out in the land of the living!" he grinned.

  Why, oh why did her cheeks burn hotter than they already did?

  "I am glad to see you enjoying the sights, ma cher, but have you been to the stables?"

  William' head perked up and her eyes widened. Stables? What stables? No one ever mentioned stables!

  He laughed; a hardy, good-natured laugh. "I could take you to it, if you want to see?

  Yes! William practically bounded over to him, and Mr. Bernadotte laughed as he led her. She liked the way he laughed.

  The stables were much smaller than the ones at the seaside castle, but they were still good. There was a row of six wooden stalls all next to each other, with the bottom half of the wooden stall doors closed and the top halves open so you could see the horses' heads if they stuck them out. Next to the row of stalls was a modest barn, with a tack room inside, and filled with hay for the horses to eat, fresh straw and shavings to replenish their stalls when the old stuff got dirty, and ia standing area for the shoe-er to shoe the horses. (William didn't like watching the shoe-er work, because he would use small curved knives to peel bits of their hooves back, and hammers to nail metal horseshoes right into their feet! Mr. Bernadotte had assured her long ago that the horses couldn't feel any of it, any more than she could feel anyone pinching her hair. Indeed, the horses themselves seemed perfectly indifferent to it. But it still looked painful to William, so she just didn't want to watch. Thankfully, there were no shoe-ers around.) The horses were being fed, so most of them were munching on hay left in small buckets on the side of their stalls, and the grooms that fed them were bringing hay to and from the barn.

  "Sorry I brought you here right at feeding time," Mr. Bernadotte said, "I'd hoped to get here before, when they'd be most hungry and happy to see you," he raised his voice a little, "but these lazy good-for-nothing louts decided to actually be good at their job today, and feed the horses on a prompt schedule."

  "Ah, come on, Captain!" one of the men grinned.

  "Don't listen to him, little missy," another groom grinned, "We're prompt every day!"

  William grinned. She recognized the grooms; all men who used to sail with their captain on the Wild Geese, and worked as grooms and laborers back at the castle. They weren't the only familiar sight though. The whole seen was pleasantly familiar. While the barn looked different, the sight of stalls and a barn and a tack room was familiar, and the smell of hay, shavings, straw, musky horses, manure, and other "barn smells" triggered her nostalgia.

  "Ah well, cannot be helped," the captain said. He pulled out a carrot. "The horses might not be as excited to see you as when they are still hungry, but I'm sure they won't say no to a little treat."

  He snapped the carrot in half, and immediately two eager heads emerged from the doors.

  William gasped. One of the horses was a ginger with a familiar white stripe down her face.

  William looked to Mr. Bernadotte for confirmation. When he smiled and nodded, she grinned and rushed to the horse.

  It was the ginger filly, Ms. Ginger Snaps, only she wasn't a filly anymore, but a mare grown up! Granted, Ginger had been old enough to have full-grown men ride on her back when William had first met her, but she had also been a bit smaller and thinner than the other horses; stringy and flighty. Now she was taller, broader, with more complete muscles.

  A rush of nostalgia flooded William as she pet the ginger mare, only to feel saddened when she remembered her Old Grey, and the fact that he was dead and she would never see him again.

  The ginger was also still head-shy, since she jerked her head up and made small displeased sounds when William tried to pet her face. But, Ginger also kept bringing her head back to William and making small pleased sounds even though she had a full bucket to eat, so there was that. William smiled a bittersweetly as she petted the ginger.

  Pip then handed William the carrot, and the ginger still ate it eagerly, which made William smile.

  "We ought to get you riding again soon," Pip said. "The Ginger might work, since she obviously remembers you, but she's still a bit spirited. She might not make the best lady's horse, unless you want a bit of a challenged. Hot Trot obviously will not work, but perhaps..."

  A sort of wistful melancholy flooded William. Part of her would love to ride, and another part felt thrilled to ride through these acres, and even curious to ride along the dirt country rode through Purfleet. Another part of her didn't want to since she had only ever ridden with her Old Grey, and she didn't really want to ride a strange horse. Another part felt a bit scared since, the last time she had ridden, they had fallen down, the Old Grey had died and she had broken her leg.

  The Captain must have noticed the unhappy look on her face, because his cheerful explanations of how they could get it done eventually died in his throat.

  As it turned out, she didn't get back to riding right away. Her master did not feel that any of the current horses in his stable were good enough to make William' lady horse, but neither was he in a hurry to buy her her own.

  If William had expected her master to move into the country estate with her, she was mistaken. Her master lived with her part of the time, but he also spent a great deal of time living in that horrible little London flat. Sometimes he stayed there for days at a time, or even over a week. He didn't want to miss a Second of the season, especially since he was still courting the church girl. Gossip about how their courtship was going sometimes leaked through the city and trickled down to the servants in the estate, and unfortunately for William, it was all good news.

  They were the mostly highly anticipated marriage in the town, the gossip went. The Count was still very much in love with her and pursued her relentlessly, yet also gallantly. Lady Richard, for her part, acted very coy and coquettish by turns; she often smirked and sauntered away and gazed alluring at the count from above her fan, which she always had on-hand now that the heat of summer was upon them. Yet she could also turn cool, aloof, and somewhat haughty as quickly, or even while she flirted. She also had a brilliant mind, a quick wit, and a silver tongue, all of which she used to shiv the Count when he deserved it, jab at him when she felt playful, and duel him in a battle of words at all other times.

  And the Count loved it. He had always been a brilliant, charismatic, and forceful man. He had always been a gifted linguist and conversationalist in every language he spoke, in his native tongue and his acquired English, and easily subdued everyone he ever verbally sparred with. While he enjoyed a great battle of wits and words, he often became too competitive and aggressive, and sometimes gave way to his temper, and became too blunt

  And he found a gifted sparring partner in Lady Richard. While she was still a very young lady who had just entered society after a very sheltered upbringing, she had adapted to London society very quickly. She had also been given the best education her family's money could buy, since her grandfather was one of the most brilliant men of his age, and believed education important, even for women. While she had also received education typical for young
ladies, such as ettiquette, spelling, and religious devotion (being a Catholic), she was also schooled significantly in various subjects of science, philosophy, and history. While her family did not go out of their way to teach her about business or politics, she quickly picked up on such subjects too, and could more-or-less hold her own when she walked in on a conversation between two gentlemen.

  Most young ladies of her time were expected to be... well, more like William (except for the muteness). Sweet, submissive, and generally nice without being too opinionated. Richard's unconventional education, quick wit, and at times bold personality went against the norm, but she had just enough of a sweet ladylike disposition (for she was a young lady leaving a lifetime of sheltered schooling) and enough charisma to pull off her education and intelligence that she could get away with it.

  Soon, her wit and smarts made her desirable even for other gentlemen, and no less than three openly lusted after her. But, Richard paid them no mind. Oh, she was polite, friendly, and engaging enough when they talked to her, but she never paid them any special attention the way she paid the Count, and she did not display her wit half so well as anyone else as when she spoke with him. They said that as time was going on, she was warming up to him more and more.

  William was obliged to come out to town to be with her master sometimes, and she hated every moment of it.

  She overheard some nobles at the reception of some opera (SO BORING! William thought; she HATED opera!) tell each other that they enjoyed coming to events they knew Lady Richard and Count Ramos were to attend, because their verbal sparing was always so delightfully engaging. Another gruff old man with food stains on his bowtie said that the two used so many Biblical, literary, and theatrical references in a single conversation that it was enough to confuse even the most dedicated Shakespearean scholar. The lady at his arm replied that they were Benedict and Beatrix come to life. (William didn't know who those people were, but she felt they could drown in a tub as well!)

  There was only one great obstacle in their indirect courtship, and it was her family.

  Abraham Van Helsing had still not forgiven the count for what he had done to his friends, and still did not trust his intentions with his granddaughter. He and William often sat apart from the others, commiserating over their mutual dislike of their courtship. His son Arthur had more or less come around to the Count, although when pressed by his father he admitted (a little hesitantly) that he did not fully trust the Count with his daughter...

  However, when Lady Richard had first entered London society, her father and grandfather had made the huge mistake of giving her a large share of her inheritance, which she invested in stocks and bonds to make more money, all in her name, so the threat of cutting her off or disowning her did not work to keep her away from the Count... Although she was not prepared to throw away her relationship with her family for a man she was not entirely sure wanted only her, nor if she wanted only him.

  However, she defended him quite well to her grandfather, or at least as to why he deserved to at least be given a fair chance, and for her to be trusted to make her own decision.

  The Count too went to impressive lengths to win over van Helsing's approval. He pulled out his best manners and most gallant disposition around the old scientist, who did not seem to be softening, but also did not seem to have quite so hard or cold or cruel an edge when the Count was around.

  "I don't think the old goat is like to change his mind about this one," his son Arthur confided into William one tea, and the thought gave her hope.

  So while being back in the country brought great joy for William, the memory of her Old Grey's death and the courtship of Lady Richard and Count Ramos brought her down, though thankfully not enough to bring her to despair. The state of their relationship hinged on the girl's good sense, and duty and devotion to her family, as well as her grandfather's approval on the matter. For now, the girl seemed too sensible and duty-bound to bind herself to a foreign gentleman her family did not approve of, and her grandfather was not likely to approve.

  It gave William some hope, although it was a weak and wistful hope.

  She was no longer quite as wildly happy as when she was first taken to Carfax, but neither was she sad; it all balanced out to a rather neutral and wistful mood.

  She still enjoyed her stay at the estate, although now that she had been there a while the charm had started to wear off, and she found that it was indeed a bit shaded and melancholic. She would have much prefered their seasick castle, with the beautiful ocean view, the pleasant seabreeze, and the sweet-smelling wood nearby. Still, a small and dreary country home was better than no country home, and William still liked it on the whole.

  She still enjoyed walking the grounds. In fact, the whole grounds beckoned to William. When she didn't have to accompany her master into town, which she still hated, she explored the acres within the high stone walls. She walked under the trees, and felt strangely sheltered under them. She loved looking up from beneath them, hearing the way the wind blew through the leaves like wind-chimes, and saw sunlight peeping through the leaves like stars in the day. William had to admit she had always wanted to explore the woods near her master's sea-side castle the way she explored these.

  During their many months' stay by the sea, she had resided only within the castle, occasionally walking beside her master out into the courtyard, the vast grounds, and open beach. She never got a chance to go into the woods, and when she did it was only to ride a horse beside her master. Since her master liked to hunt and canter relentlessly through the woods from beginning to end, she never got a chance to just walk and explore, or enjoy the shelter of the trees. She could never investigate the sights, smells, or touches. She could never just walk along the among the trees at her own pace, seeing and exploring all there was to see and hear and smell and touch.

  Here in Carfax, William felt she could walk along the trees and enjoy the sights and sounds.

  Of course, the servants still did not trust her to be out there by herself for too long. "Miss Hanna!" they called in their prim, haughty voices, "You come inside this instant!" "You'll catch your death of cold!" "You'll trip on a root and break your ankle!" "You'll fall into the lake and drown, and then where will you be?"

  In the lake, William thought playfully, and stuck out her tongue. She actually felt fascinated by the lake and wanted to go into it, but she didn't have the nerve just yet.

  Mrs. Hart, a particularly old and plump maid, was scandalized at that.

  Usually William ignored them, or came over slowly and in a roundabout way. Sometimes a petulant or playful mood seized her, and she would retreat further into the trees, or even laugh and duck behind the trunks.

  Sometimes they came out to fetch her. "Miss Hanna!" Mrs. Hart exclaimed as she wheezed on after her, "You must come inside this instant! Your master will be home any minute now, and you must be prepared to receive him!"

  I can receive him very well from out here, William thought, for she could see him much more quickly when she was already outside and the carriage pulled into the front out, than she would have if he had to step out of the carriage, walk into the estate, and then find her in there.

  Out loud, William only grinned at Mrs. Hart and wove further behind more trunks the closer she got to her, smiling playfully the more flustered she got.

  Mrs. Hart and the other servants were not in as good shape as William, for they wore such tight bodices and spent so much time indoors that they were soon huffing and puffing trying to keep up with her. Of course it was all in good fun to William, who eventually relented when the younger servants were ready to cry with desperation. She had no such pity for Mrs. Hart though, whom she always playfully evaded until the woman was red-faced and short of breath, and stalked back to the house huffing and puffing, "Your master will here of this!"

  The servants surprised her one day when they sent Captain Bernadotte out to fetch her. "You're the only one she'll listen to!" Mrs. Hart complained.


  Mr. Bernadotte strolled good-naturedly over to her. "So, the servants tell me they have trouble catching you. You want to do this the easy way, or the hard way?"

  William grinned and ducked behind a trunk. Soon he had the good humor to play along, and grinned as he came after her.

  William let him get closer than the other servants, pretending to let him catch up to her, only to saunter behind a new tree trunk at the last minute. He seemed to enjoy the chase too, for he followed her around the trunks with a grin on his face. They played like that for a while; William letting him get close, then weaving through the trees just out of his reach, and Mr. Bernadotte laughing and chasing after her.

  Soon she found that he did not tire as quickly or easily as the other servants, and was a faster runner besides. He got closer than she intended, and William laughed a silent laugh and broke into a dead run, and Mr. Bernadotte laughed and chased after her. They wove through the trunks of the trees just as the birds wove through the leaves in the canopies, laughing and hiding and seeking each other.

  Happy but breathless, William smiled a mischievous smile at him and kept her hand on the bark as she slowly walked to the other side of the tree. She listened for his approach, intending to break away once she heard him get close. Hearing rustling on one side she kept her eyes on it, then felt surprised to feel a tap on her shoulder and turned around to find Mr. Bernadotte glaring at her, and she would have squealed with surprise and delight if she had a voice, and tried to flee as he playfully caught her, and they both laughed in each other's arms.

  He still smelled of spices, tobacco, dust, musk, and other earthly smells that William loved, and that seemed perfect for this country setting.

  She went back inside without another fuss, but the servants glared as they saw how familiarly the two laughed and smiled at each other.

  "Most improper," one said.

  "What lack of propriety," said another.