Once again his guest had snooped about the room, investigating the private belongings of Rebecca. Had she read its contents? Bramwell rose to his feet, feeling annoyed at the beauty he wanted a moment ago. After dimming her oil lamp, he retreated to his room, pulling shut the secret door.
He looked at the letter, slipped out the parchment, and read the words. They burned, just as they had burned before. Bramwell had forgotten it still existed, tucked away in her vanity drawer. Without hesitation, he balled up the correspondence, walked over to the fireplace and tossed it upon a few remaining embers. A moment later, the heat caught the note on fire and consumed the evidence of betrayal.
“Damn unfaithful bitch,” he cursed. He wanted to roar the words from his soul and bellow them at the top of his lungs. However, waking the entire household over another inconsolable rant would do him no good. It never did.
He glanced at the ticking clock upon the fireplace mantel. It was nearly one o’clock in the morning. In a few hours, he needed to leave for the mine. Desperately needing sleep, he decided to take a dose of the drug. It would take him from cruel reality to blissful dreams.
Afterward, he stripped himself of his trousers and linen shirt, throwing them on the floor. Naked, he crawled under the blanket feeling the urge to relieve the desire to ravish Caroline.
Gilded Cage
Caroline woke and stirred underneath the sheets. Her leg had begun to ache again. As clarity returned, she remembered the evening before with Bramwell sitting on the edge of her bed, offering a dose of laudanum to take away the pain. It had rapidly flowed through her veins, and she barely recollected anything afterward. As she licked her dry lips, yearning for something to drink, a vague memory of his kiss returned. Did she kiss him back?
The horrid possibility that he may have taken advantage of her unconscious body provoked her to fling back the blanket. Still clad in her long nightgown, she looked for evidence that perhaps he had ravished her beneath the sheets. Sighing in relief that she felt or saw nothing to suggest such a shameless activity had occurred, she slid her hand across the bed looking for the letter. It had disappeared.
“Oh, dear God, no,” she wailed. She sat on the edge of the bed and tried to stand on one foot, but halted when she heard a knock at the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Millie. May I come?”
“Yes, of course,” she answered, relieved it was not Bramwell.
“What are you doing out of bed, miss?” Millie frowned in concern. She came to her side and steadied her stance. “Do you need to relieve yourself?”
“Yes, yes, of course, I do, but I was looking for something and cannot find it.” She turned around and threw the blanket entirely off the mattress.
“Looking for what?” Millie curiously looked at the heap of bedding tossed to the floor.
“Well, it’s not here.” Caroline groaned. Bramwell must have taken it and would know she had been snooping about the room again.
“Where is Mr. Croft?” Caroline turned around and sat back down on the edge of the bed.
“He has left for the mine. It’s a full day of work, and he won’t be back until sunset, I imagine.”
“All right.” Caroline sighed in relief. Thankfully, he would not be around to confront her about the envelope, which she was sure he had removed.
“Now why don’t we get you up, take care of your needs, and get you dressed? Mr. Croft has arranged for the surgeon to come by later this morning and take a look at your leg.”
“He has?” Caroline’s face brightened at the prospect. “Well, then, perhaps he will let me travel back to my aunt’s home so mother and I can return to London.”
“I don’t know about that,” Millie said. She held her underneath her arm and helped her to the bath chamber.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think the master is ready to let you leave, Miss Woodard. Frankly, I think he enjoys having you here.”
“I don’t really enjoy being here,” Caroline replied. “I am not a replacement for his Rebecca, you know.”
Millie giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
She did not reply, but instead flashed a mischievous grin.
* * * *
A few hours later, the surgeon stood at the side of her bed, examining his plaster of Paris handiwork.
“You should keep your leg elevated, Miss Woodard, to keep the swelling down. Are you managing the pain?”
“It throbs at night,” she admitted. “Mr. Croft gives me laudanum for pain.”
“Well, that is fine, as long as he is careful with the dosage and it is not too often.” The surgeon pulled the covers back over Caroline’s legs.
“I really wish to return to my aunt’s house in Pendeen and then back to London. Surely I need not stay here at Thorncroft Manor any longer.”
The surgeon shook his head in disagreement. “I’m afraid that I cannot allow you to travel for at least another three weeks.”
“Three weeks?” Caroline straightened her spine and glared at him. “You cannot be serious.”
“As I told you before, any jarring of the leg or continual swelling would be detrimental to your healing, Miss Woodard.”
“Well, I don’t understand,” she complained. “You said one week after it happened.” Her brow furrowed over his suggestion.
“After my examination today, I have changed my mind. You are lucky that this is a simple fracture and not a compound break. Had gangrene set it, I would have been forced to remove your lower leg.”
Caroline brought her hand to her mouth, appalled by the vivid picture that entered her mind of the surgeon cutting through flesh and bone with a saw.
“If you insist on returning to your aunt’s and traveling to London, it is quite possible the bone will not properly heal. You could be left with a crooked leg and go about limping the rest of your life with a cane at your side. Is that what you want?” He scolded her like an exasperated father.
“No, I don’t wish to go about limping throughout life,” she replied. Caroline lowered her head, fighting another ghastly image of her hobbling about with a cane. No one would marry her then. She would be a cripple in the eyes of suitors. Oh, why did she have to insist on going to the mine? If it were not for her impertinence in trying to impress Bramwell, she would not be incapacitated on another woman’s bed.
“Good. I am pleased that you realize the wisdom in staying put. Mr. Croft tells me that he is more than happy to care for you until you heal.” The surgeon slipped his arms through the sleeves of his coat and picked up his bag.
“Oh, I am sure that he is extremely pleased,” Caroline cynically replied.
“Good day, Miss Woodard. I shall return in a fortnight to check upon you again unless Mr. Croft bids me to return earlier.”
After he departed the room, Caroline lowered her head. “Oh dear God,” she whined, feeling like a caged bird in a gilded prison of memories. It had become obvious that Bramwell would not let her fly away anytime soon.
* * * *
The remainder of the day slowly ebbed away. Caroline spent most of the time reading. Boredom had set in, making her restless and ill-tempered.
Late afternoon, Millie announced that her mother had arrived to check on her welfare. “Oh, thank God,” she replied. “Will you help me to the chair before showing her up? I am tired of lying in bed.”
“Yes, miss,” she answered.
Millie supported her as she relocated, and Caroline situated herself comfortably. “Now go, bring her to me,” she ordered. Her voice trembled with excitement. A few minutes later, her mother entered the room.
“Oh, Mother!” Caroline reached out her arms. It felt like ages since they had seen one another. “Come here and let me hug you.”
Her mother’s countenance remained subdued. “Yes, dear, of course,” she replied. She bowed over, wrapped her arms around Caroline, and gave her a squeeze.
“How are you getting along, dear? Do you still have much p
ain?”
“A little,” Caroline replied. “When I move it hurts, but the surgeon tells me I must stay put.”
“Yes, I know,” she replied. She sat on the side of the bed and somberly continued. “I have news, Caroline, that you may not want to hear.”
“What news? Is everything all right?” She leaned forward in her chair and reached out to grab her mother’s hand.
“Father has asked that Bernice and I return posthaste to London.”
“What do you mean return to London? He does know of my condition and whereabouts, doesn’t he?” Caroline excitedly asked. “You cannot mean to leave me here alone.”
“Well, it seems that we have no choice, Mr. Croft tells me.” Her mother heaved a sigh. “Even the surgeon, at his bidding, came by to speak with me about the danger in moving you too soon.” Her mother patted the top of her thigh. “You could be permanently disabled with a limp, so I am told, if the bone does not mend correctly.”
“Yes, he has frightened me with the same warning, but I still think that I am more than able to leave if we just ask the carriage driver to go slow and avoid the potholes in the road.”
Her mother chuckled. “It is highly unlikely that he will succeed, and I dare not risk you harm.”
“Oh, please do not leave me here. Perhaps auntie can care for me. What do you think?”
“Out of the question. It would be too much of a burden. Besides, I have succeeded in convincing her to come back to London with us for a holiday. She will be able to see Georgina and Darby when they return from their honeymoon.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Millie said, standing in the doorway. “But Miss Woodard is no trouble at all. Pearson and I have everything under control. We have plenty of food to share, an ample library with books to read, and the good company of Mr. Croft, I might add.”
Caroline glared at Millie’s intrusion. By the sound of her speech, she thought Bramwell had encouraged her to put in a good word. “Let me talk to my mother alone, please. I need privacy.” Her curt voice conveyed her irritation.
“Of course, miss. As you wish.” Millie scurried away.
“Does Mr. Croft treat you with respect, Caroline? He has not done anything untoward or taken advantage of the situation, has he?”
At last her mother displayed some concern over her quandary. “Well, no,” she replied in a low voice. “He is pleasant enough, but he is secretive and aloof. I find him a bit unnerving at times.”
“Well, he has been very cordial to me. In fact, he dropped by early this morning to assure me that he would watch over you until you are well enough to travel.”
Caroline’s fears increased over his obvious insistence that she remain at Thorncroft. He had purposely set out to see her mother and not proceeded to the mine as he told Millie. What motives could he possibly have to keep her there?
“It sounds as if he is trying to convince you, along with the surgeon, to abandon me.” Caroline bit her lower lip with worry. “I don’t like it.”
Her mother attempted to allay her fears with a soothing tone. “Well, I will admit it is a bit unusual to leave you in the home of an unmarried man, but you appear to be well cared for and safe.”
Caroline clutched her mother’s hand and squeezed it tight. “Why must you leave? Why must father selfishly call you back home so soon?”
She lowered her head and rubbed Caroline’s hand. “Father is not well, my child. I don’t wish to worry you, but I’m afraid he needs me to come home and care for him.”
“Not well? Is he seriously ill?” Her father had aged considerably during the past year, and Caroline speculated there might be something wrong.
“I don’t think so. To be frank, I think he is using it as an excuse to bring me back home. You know how he hates for me to be away for long periods of time.”
With Caroline’s latest fears dispelled, she had come to a point of surrendering to her circumstances. “Does father show no concern for my welfare?”
“Of course he does. I wrote him the day that it happened. He insists that you not travel either but stay until you are well.”
“I cannot believe what has happened to me,” Caroline moaned. Her situation was completely hopeless.
“Now, now,” her mother cajoled, patting her hand. “It will be all right. I am sure you will be fine. Besides, Mr. Croft is Darby’s best friend. Surely, if he trusts the gentleman, I can do so as well.” She stroked the side of Caroline’s face lovingly. “I shall have your things that you left at auntie’s delivered here before I leave.”
Her mother’s offer to provide her belongings brought a spot of comfort. As far as the other, there was no use arguing the point further. “Give me a kiss before you leave,” Caroline begged.
“Of course, dear.” Her mother bent down and placed a peck upon Caroline’s cheek. “Why don’t you write me and let me know how you are getting along. As soon as you are able, we will arrange for your return home.”
“Clearly, I have no choice in the matter and must remain at Thorncroft.” After giving her mother a long, tight hug, she sadly watched her only hope of escape depart for London. A moment later, Millie entered the room.
“Now, don’t you worry, miss. All will be well, and you will soon be back home with your family again.” Millie walked to the armoire and opened the doors, revealing Rebecca’s wardrobe. She pushed aside the row of dresses and stopped at a red evening gown.
“Mr. Croft has requested that you wear this tonight while dining with him.” Millie laid the fashionable attire at the foot of her bed.
“You may tell Mr. Croft that I will not be eating with him this evening,” Caroline announced. “I prefer that a tray be brought to my room. I shall dine in bed.”
She examined the expensive evening gown and the low neckline. It sparkled with brazenness from bodice to hem. Did the master of the house think he could make her do whatever he wanted? She may be injured, but it did not mean she needed to relinquish every ounce of individuality she possessed.
“Mr. Croft ordered that I am to clothe you in this gown. Do you want me to get in trouble because you said no? I will receive the brunt of his anger as well as you, no doubt.” Millie frowned and cast a daring glance. “There will be no taking dinner in your room, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, for goodness sake!” Caroline huffed. “Far be it from me to upset Mr. Croft or endanger your position.”
Millie beamed, visibly happy about her victory. “Now let me support you to the vanity, and I’ll brush your hair, put on some rouge, and help you into the dress. Before you know it, Mr. Croft will be at your doorstep.”
Could she refuse? Caroline knew that she could not. She felt drawn to obey, as much as her logical mind told her to resist. Tonight she would wear a red dress and dine with the brooding lord of the manor. Plainly he had diligently orchestrated her confinement. After all the effort he had gone to, she might as well play the captive damsel in distress.
“Yes, of course. We must not keep the master waiting,” she whined.
Sweet Seduction
As he bathed in the warm water, rinsing away the dust of the day from his body, Bramwell thought about the evening ahead. He instructed Pearson to lay out his formal attire for dinner, which he had not worn in some time.
“Pearson, come here!” He bellowed his usual command into his bedchamber from the tub.
“Yes, sir?”
“You are right about my room. Do you think that Millie might have a few moments to tidy it up while I am dining?”
Pearson grinned. “Of course, sir.” He paused and then cleared his throat. “Forgive me for being forthright, sir, but I am pleased with your change in direction.”
Bramwell scoffed. “Tell her not to take too long. Just make it presentable. She can come back in the morning and dust and sweep the floors more thoroughly.”
“As you wish,” Pearson replied.
“Are my clothes laid out?” Bramwell rose from the bathwater and grabbed a towel.
> “Everything is in order. Shall I help dress you, or would you prefer to be alone?”
“You need not act as my valet, butler, and a footman every waking moment. Go.” Pearson nodded and departed his suite.
After drying his body, he wrapped the bath towel around his waist. He stood looking at himself in the mirror acutely aware that he needed to shave. Bramwell rubbed his hand over his stubble, turning his head to the right and left. Like everything else in his life, he had not bothered to maintain his appearance. His long hair, scruffy face, and dark circles under his eyes mirrored the lingering depression.
After shaving, he dressed in newly shined boots, clean pants, white ruffled shirt, and a waistcoat. As he stepped into the hallway, Millie approached.
“Mr. Pearson asked me to tidy up, sir. I am glad to hear it.”
“Yes, I’m sure you are. Just straighten up. The deep cleaning you can do in the morning after I have gone to the mine.”
Bramwell started to head toward Rebecca’s old room but halted. He turned around and called after the maid. “Millie, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Did you help Miss Woodard into the dress that I requested she wear tonight?”
Millie scurried close to him and lowered her voice. “I surely did, but she complained sorely about it the entire time. If you don’t mind me saying, sir, she is in a tizzy about having to remain here at Thorncroft.”
Bramwell lifted the corner of his mouth in a devious smile. “I’m sure she is,” he said. “Thank you for the warning.”
He knocked on the door and waited for an invitation to enter.
“Come in.” Caroline answered in a somber tone.
He entered and glanced about the room. Caroline sat in a chair by the window. Immediately his breath hitched in his throat, seeing her in Rebecca’s dress. A vision of beauty looked warily into his eyes.
Thorncroft Manor (A Novella) Page 9