So with very little options other than worrying and waiting, I meditated. Since Vix constantly ordered us to even when the slightest bad thing happened I figured this is what he’d prescribe me in this situation.
As it turned out meditating proved difficult when the door was unlocked and my father walked in, an expression of eerie calmness I knew was masking an absolute storm behind.
I stood from the bed and walked toward him. “Please forgive me, I was ill-minded to run away. It was the spur of-” my voice trailed off when he began unfastening his belt, breathing heavily.
“Please,” I begged and the breath was sucked from my lungs as he proceeded to walk towards me. I’d experienced pain but that didn’t mean I was going to be fine with just letting someone beat me with a belt and not retaliate. I could easily kill him with nothing but my hands but that might ruin my cover.
Get me?
“I’m not going to let what happened to your mother happen to you,” he said in a stern voice and he stretched the belt. “Give me your hands,” he ordered.
I half expected Abigail or my Aunt to come and save me but when he began whacking my wrists until the skin became raw and blood began dripping down my hands it became apparent this was normal.
I was angry. Extremely angry I couldn’t smash his head against the wall and angry at how ugly the world had been.
Instead, I took the beating, apologised and agreed to marry the Count through clenched teeth.
“You are fine.” He gripped my raw skin and squeezed. I bit the inside of my cheek as I felt hot tears blur my vision. That hurt you asshole.
“You are not ill. You are not insane.” His expression softened and he released his grip on my wrist and wiped a tear away before it fell - acting as a comforting father - like he hadn’t just beaten me with a belt.
“You look so much like her.” He smiled and then opened the door to reveal Abigail who looked slightly pale. “Run her a bath will you? Dress her and get her down to dinner as soon as possible. We have guests.”
“Father,” I called, my voice wobbled. He paused in his tracks and faced me expectantly but I chickened out before I had a chance to ask him what happened with Tobias.
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded his head and smiled tightly, before making his way down to the stone staircase.
Abigail led me to a small metal tub where warm water and a bar of soap waited expectantly.
“What happened to your corset?” She was surprised when she turned from lighting the last candle.
“It was suffocating me,” I explained, waiting patiently for her to leave but instead she pulled the completely ruined dress off of me until I was left only in white undergarments.
Okay then...
She moved busily around me collecting the undergarments from the bottom of my feet and then waited for me to climb into the tub.
“Can’t I have some privacy?”
She raised an eyebrow. “There are no locks on these doors sweetheart and you’ll be sorely disappointed when you realise you aren’t to be left alone until you’re married.”
Oh, wonderful.
I stepped into the tub, wincing as the hot water shocked me and the water became a grim shade of brown.
Abigail took a jug and began pouring water over my hair and scrubbing soap into it.
“That must have been an adventure,” she said, pouring water over me and running her hands through my hair.
“It’s been a pretty intense few days Abigail,” I replied with my teeth clenched, using the bar of soap to clean my legs. It was nice to have a bath for a change, less so since the bath was covered in dirt from me.
“No – no I didn’t mean it like that! Just… what changed?” she asked, her voice was comforting. I felt I could confide in her and I knew we were close at one time or another. But I couldn’t tell her. She would never believe me and it was against the rules.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
It was silent for a moment, only the sound of water splashing against the side of the tub and my curled up body. I closed my eyes and searched for anything. Allowing darkness and the heat of the bath to relax my muscles, I sank into the water covering my body and finding no Totem.
After I was bathed Abigail wrapped my wrists in a bandage and cleaned the cut on my forehead commenting on how well the stitching was. It angered me that Ace - Tobias had put my head back together so neatly. It had fooled me into trusting him but really I had no one to blame but myself. I’d been weak running away like that, injuring myself and then jumping into a stranger’s arms. It was weak and pathetic. I should be ashamed of myself. I was no longer a ten-year-old.
I clenched my jaw. Anyone who had deceived me in the past did not get away so lightly. But I supposed I could try to find a way back to my timeline through him. “What happened to him?”
“The man who brought you here?” she asked, tightening the corset until all the breath had escaped from my lungs and my waist was even smaller than it had been in this teenage body.
I nodded my head and gasped as she tugged again. “On the road again, your father paid him well though.” I internally groaned, so that was no longer an option - not that I wanted to talk to him anyway.
As my hair began to dry into loose curls she began pinning it up into the style I was wearing before I entered this time. I thought back to the sleek black dress I wore on the night interrupted by the Rebellion. I looked down on the light peach gown I now wore and flattened down the skirt with a soft expression. The person staring back in the mirror wasn’t a stranger but she wasn’t who I was in the future. This girl had the look of innocence and childhood I’d missed out on.
“Beautiful.” Abigail smiled sweetly, her own face was bright and youthful, her brown hair pulled into a neat bun and wrinkles under her eyes that implied her days consisted of joy and laughter.
How could someone still smile when serving someone else, when being treated so poorly? And then I remembered I was always this person, I was always being served on. People like Gina, Vix and his assistant, the Rebellion. They all served me. And I served those above me, in every society throughout time there was a hierarchy and we learnt to smile and accept it because we’ve never known any better. Maybe it was why the Rebellion was rebelling.
Good, they could rebel all they want but nothing would change, history was proof of it.
Even better: I was at the top of the food chain.
CHAPTER 14
Time: 17th June 1661
Location: England (most definitely)
My father sat at the head of the table, on his left what I could assume was someone from the navy. Opposite him was another man and a woman slightly younger who I presumed was his wife. Beardy and his wickedly fast friend sat together on the soldier’s side and I made my way over to the middle of the table next to the woman.
“Ah, Marion. So wonderful of you to join us,” my father said, smiling and beginning to dig into the meal in front of us. Chicken with various vegetables was piled onto my plate and wine was poured into my glass.
I hated wine. I was more into the new alcohol that gave you crazy drugged effects. This wine was weak in comparison.
“I’d like to introduce you to a commander of the Royal Navy, Harrison.” He smiled and nodded his head towards me. He was surprisingly young to be a commander, and I wondered why he was here, perhaps he was a family friend I’d never met?
“And of course, my dear friend Abraham and his wife.” The man smiled at me whilst his wife didn’t bother meeting my eyes. Instead, she took a sip of wine and sat up straight. I was aware she hadn’t been given a name - she only belonged to him.
I smothered my scowl, thinking of how this whole patriarchal, misogynistic crap was going to be difficult.
“Hello,” I said to them, attempting to sit up as straight as she was but it only made me uncomfortable.
“Gentlemen, I’ll talk to you later,” my father said to Beardy and his companions who had c
leared their plates before I’d arrived. I met Beardy’s eyes for a brief moment and he nodded his head. I cleared my throat and began cutting a carrot. Food fixed everything.
Once they left my father began a conversation with the men, laughing loudly as though he’d already forgotten about my fiasco. Even when Abraham mentioned the wedding he continued to smile and began boasting about how I was going to be married to a Count in two months and they were of course invited.
“Splendid.” The Commander smiled kindly. “I suspect I’ll be set to sail to the New World after the wedding.”
They continued a pleasant conversation. No one bothered to ask about the stitches on my forehead though I could tell my father’s only concern with the injury was whether the scar might tarnish my beauty. The atmosphere was ruined when my aunt stumbled into the room giggling to herself and adjusting her breasts.
“Sorry for the delay - oh never mind. You started without me.” She laughed louder and pulled out the chair at the head of the table. The guests watched, their mouths half-open.
“Harrison!” she cried, surprised by his presence. He managed to smile politely though it looked like more of a look of desire. She was beautiful. I could hardly blame him, but a lot older.
“When I last saw you, you were no more than a boy! Now look at you!” she cried. “A man-”
My father’s arm had gripped her forearm and he’d bent down to her level to whisper in her ear. Her expression revealed nothing as she politely excused herself and left the room with Harrison’s eyes trailing after her, his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth.
The rest of the dinner had been ruined. My father was now in a sour mood and his guests were the ones trying to lift it, with no success.
“So how on earth did you gain those stitches?” Abraham asked politely, chuckling and scooping peas into his mouth. He chewed slowly, flitting his gaze between my father who glared angrily at the table and myself.
Should I tell him? Should I lie?
“It’s rather embarrassing really.” I decided to tell him, no matter how idiotic I felt saying the words. They didn’t know I was an Assassin but I certainly did and the shame hit me like a ton of bricks. “I ran into a tree.”
“A tree?” exclaimed Harrison. So posh.
“My! How did that happen?” the wife shrilled. She placed a hand on her heart and turned my way with an incredulous look.
“I wasn’t looking,” I replied cautiously. How else did she suspect I ran into a tree?
“I meant why were you running in the first place?” she answered.
Before I had to come up with an excuse my father replied. “One of the maids commented on her inactiveness and Marion decided to prove her wrong.” He smiled. “Like a true Montgomery.”
Okay then. It worked, they began talking about their own staff members, commenting on their unnecessary gossip - not taking into account they were gossiping themselves. It reminded me of my stylist team back in the present.
I missed it. I missed the flavoured food, the bright colours, the laughter, the clothes, the lights, and the attention. I missed my friends - hell by this point I was even starting to miss Halo.
There was something about being in an unfamiliar environment that made home seem all the more appealing.
I looked around the room: it was large, sophisticated and boastful. Expensive items covered almost every surface, angry flames reflected off of a grand marble fireplace. A servant stood by the door, head poised and dressed in a smart uniform. Occasionally I felt his eyes on me, the same look as most of the servants who watched my little fiasco earlier. I loved fuelling gossip - not much had changed in the last few hundred years.
When I was excused from the table I left the room in a hurry, finally able to breathe the moment the double doors were closed behind me. I found my entire body slump and I gently touched the stitches on my forehead, grimacing as I felt the return of a headache.
And this was where I could use some painkillers.
“Need a drink?” A voice asked from the centre of the room. This was the main entrance where there was a sitting area and a grand staircase that seemed to continue up the whole of the house.
It was the bearded man sitting on the sofa, staring at the flames in a fireplace. Apart from him, the room was empty and so I decided to sit with him, desperately trying to remember if he had a name.
He didn’t say anything for a long time. We just sat staring at the flames in peaceful silence and it felt nice for once. Ever since I’d gotten here there had been news after more news.
“Your father wants me to keep an eye on you,” he said after more minutes of silence.
“Oh,” I managed to say.
“A couple days ago I would have laughed at him but now I’m thinking it’s not such a bad idea.” He took a long sip. “That was quite the stunt you pulled on us.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that and I’m also sorry for anything my father said or did to you,” I replied quickly, genuinely feeling guilty. He was just doing his job, like everyone else in the world.
“I don’t know what happened between the time Nugget died and you having a meltdown but I understand,” he continued. “It’s okay you know.”
There was a brief silence and then he took a deep breath, turning towards me and placing a hand on my knee. The way a father comforted his daughter - without beating her first.
“It’s not my business to ask who that man you were with was and where you were going. But I’m sorry you ended up back here.”
“He was a stranger I met on the road. It’s - ah I don’t know - all the adrenaline had built up-”
“Adrenaline?” he interrupted.
Ugh, was I going to have to focus on every little thing?
I blushed. “I read about it - it’s like a burst of energy and emotion I suppose.”
He nodded his head slowly and then smiled. “You don’t have to explain your actions to me.” I patted his hand breathing a sigh of relief.
He ended up following me upstairs reluctantly under my father’s orders and sat a little way down the corridor on a stool. I sat on the bed, touching the silky sheets and allowing my mind to shut off. Almost as soon I had slumped onto the bed Abigail came through the door, revealing the bearded man whose name I still didn’t know. He was sitting on a stool opposite the door picking his fingernails.
She helped me undress, handed me a satin nightgown and smiled sweetly. “Don’t mind Harold, just got to get used to him sitting outside your bedroom now.” So his name was Harold, good to know.
Once Abigail left the room and I heard the faint lock of the door I climbed into the sheets and sunk into the mattress. God it felt good. Just to lie down in absolute silence - alone for once. Even though someone was sitting just outside my door as a guard.
I meditated for an hour trying to keep my mind focused instead of falling asleep waiting. I analysed the timeline but I couldn’t see straight. I could sense my timeline and all the others - but I couldn’t see them.
I missed my Totem. I missed the comforting glow and the safety it provided.
At some point, I gave up and fell asleep, only to awake when I heard squeaking. For a moment I freaked out and grasped the candle on the bedside table before I realised it wasn’t a mouse but rather the sound of a bed squeaking.
What the actual hell?
Was someone seriously-?
How late was it, Jesus?
Falling asleep to the sound of squeaking below my room proved difficult, and although my head was pounding and I was in desperate need of sleep. I decided to do some late-night reading of my diary just to get up to date - a poor idea.
Marion was pretty useless. She wrote in it probably once a month and had been for only a couple of years and it consisted mainly of horses. She was big on horses. Well - I was... it was hard to judge someone when you were that person.
Nugget was at least mentioned once in every page, she rode him every day apparently. He was her moth
er’s and although she didn’t remember her mother, she grasped on to what she had left of hers.
It was the perfect beginning for a Disney film.
January 3rd 1661 caught my eye, the first line being: I overheard a heated argument about my mother with father and Aunt Susanna. From the fragmented... blah blah... my mother was insane, she had attempted to murder me.
It explained a lot, it explained why my father was such an asshole and acted so weird around me. He was worried I would turn out like my mother, that my own health had been triggered by the news of marriage and the death of Nugget, hence why I tried to run away.
It wasn’t really progress - or anything new to me. I already knew my mother had died, none of my mothers survived. It was the sick fate I couldn’t escape from. Every Time Bender seemed to have a similar kind of fate of their own - we called it a recurring theme.
But we all had one thing in common: our inability to reproduce children. Well, we could have children - they just died quickly.
I continued to read, finding the issues in this family just kept piling up.
April 13th 1661 (only 2 months ago): My suspicions are growing, I found a letter detailing a wedding with the Count of Eldermore and I doubt Aunt Susanna needs to be married a second time. Which leaves only me...
April 16th 1661: The stable boy invited me to go on a walk to the lake with me but I refused. I had to prepare for the news of marriage and flaunting around with a mere boy would be foolish.
Thank Christ. So that kind of implied she went through with the marriage to the Count. Hell what if she was supposed to die before then? Then I’d just willingly hand myself over to be married when she wasn’t even supposed to be alive?
There were too many questions and I doubted the number of unanswered questions would be reduced.
I just had to trust Fate - if there was such a thing.
Time Benders are always questioning Fate or whether things were only coincidences. Like the fact Ace was here in one of his first lives, was it a coincidence we met? Or Fate?
NOVA: The Time Bender Series Book 1 Page 11