A Turn of Tides
Page 20
“Of course.” “For how long?” She frowned, wrinkling her nose.
“What do you mean how long? It’s forever.” “My God.
It wasn’t like you even loved him.
He was a vile bastard.
Can’t you just take it down?” Again, she looked at me as though I was the mad one for such a suggestion.
“He is my husband.
I can’t put him aside.
It’s the law.” I walked toward the door, leaning my arm against it, still fighting the urge to puke.
When I turned around to see Bella still standing in the same position, her eyes cast upward as she gazed calmly upon the corpse, all I could think was: We need to get you out of this place, Bella.
You don’t belong here either.
Chapter 9: Rose I awoke the following morning to the smell of cooking.
Rubbing my eyes, I walked into the kitchen to see Bella hovering over a pot.
Stew again, by the looks of it.
She looked down at me as I stood next to her.
I glared up at her.
“You said I reminded you of your daughter… albeit less handsome.
You don’t want me ending up dead too, do you?” She turned around, conflict twisting her features.
She shook her big head.
“Then why are you fattening me up? Why aren’t you doing anything to help me escape?” She heaved a sigh.
“I told you, Miss Rose.
There’s nothing I can do.
My job is just to look after you, feed you and protect you until Master is ready for you to move into his quarters.” Move into his quarters.
This was news to me.
As much as I no longer allowed myself to be the victim, the thought sent chills running down my spine.
“Oh,” she grunted.
“I’m telling you too much.
You must promise me not to tell him what I’ve told you.” “I won’t tell him.
But you do realize that you’re taking part in my murder? Because I doubt Master would have as much interest in eating me if I was skinny.
You’re preparing me for him.” She averted her eyes back to the stew, and assumed a stoic expression.
“I’m just doing my job.
I don’t have a choice.” I picked up a saucepan and slammed it down against the kitchen counter in frustration.
Perhaps she was right that there was no way to get me out of here without being seen, but this wasn’t the answer I needed to hear.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I ran back into the main room and stopped at the window, staring out once again at the bleak surroundings—the sharp mountains, the overcast sky.
“So what’s the plan then? How much longer until your Master will come for me?” When she hesitated, I said, “Just tell me.
I already promised you that I won’t tell him you’ve told me anything.” She still seemed wary, but I supposed she felt like talking to me was the least she could do for me.
“He gave me three days to start plumping you up, and he will check your progress on the third evening.” “And if I refuse to eat?” She looked at me with sad eyes.
“He will come anyway.
If you take too long to fatten up, he may still take you into his quarters and force-feed you there himself.
Your last days will be better spent with me, Miss Rose.” She shuddered.
“Trust me, you want to spend as little time with Master as possible.” Last days.
I hated the resignation in her voice, as though there was no part of her that had any flicker of hope that I might survive.
She poured out a bowl of stew and walked out of the kitchen, setting it down on my dressing table.
“Eat,” she said.
No way am I fattening myself up for that monster.
I’d rather starve to death first.
I shook my head.
“If Anselm wants me to eat, you can tell him he’ll have to feed me himself.” She looked at me reluctantly.
I walked up to her and gripped the hem of her smock, staring her right in the eye.
“Go on.
Tell him I’m waiting here.” She shook her head.
“No, Miss Rose—” “Go now.” She stared at me disbelievingly, but stopped resisting.
She removed her apron and hung it up on a hook on the wall, then extinguished the fire beneath the stew.
I didn’t take my eyes off her until she’d plodded across the floor and exited, locking the door behind her.
As soon as she was out of sight, I hurried to the kitchen.
I picked up the two sharpest knives I could find from the drawer and, after replacing their sheaths, fastened them beneath my dress to my inner thighs with two silk scarves I found in the closet.
Then I sat on the bed, staring at the door.
I wasn’t going to wait here like a sitting duck for him to come to me.
I was going to start calling the shots about my fate.
Even if it did mean inviting an early death to my door.
Chapter 10: Rose
I was both relieved and frightened when the door finally opened an hour later.
I held my breath as Anselm stepped into the room after Bella.
He wore a long dark cloak over his lean shoulders, and his hair was slicked back.
His face was clean-shaven, revealing his sharp jawline, and his brown skin smelt of a faint musk.
If I didn’t abhor him so much, I would have almost described him as handsome.
His orange eyes settled on me.
“Arabella tells me that you wanted to see me.” I stood up as he closed the distance between us and stopped a foot away from me.
“What do you mean how long? It’s forever.” “My God.
It wasn’t like you even loved him.
He was a vile bastard.
Can’t you just take it down?” Again, she looked at me as though I was the mad one for such a suggestion.
“He is my husband.
I can’t put him aside.
It’s the law.” I walked toward the door, leaning my arm against it, still fighting the urge to puke.
When I turned around to see Bella still standing in the same position, her eyes cast upward as she gazed calmly upon the corpse, all I could think was: We need to get you out of this place, Bella.
You don’t belong here either.
Chapter 9: Rose I awoke the following morning to the smell of cooking.
Rubbing my eyes, I walked into the kitchen to see Bella hovering over a pot.
Stew again, by the looks of it.
She looked down at me as I stood next to her.
I glared up at her.
“You said I reminded you of your daughter… albeit less handsome.
You don’t want me ending up dead too, do you?” She turned around, conflict twisting her features.
She shook her big head.
“Then why are you fattening me up? Why aren’t you doing anything to help me escape?” She heaved a sigh.
“I told you, Miss Rose.
There’s nothing I can do.
My job is just to look after you, feed you and protect you until Master is ready for you to move into his quarters.” Move into his quarters.
This was news to me.
As much as I no longer allowed myself to be the victim, the thought sent chills running down my spine.
“Oh,” she grunted.
“I’m telling you too much.
You must promise me not to tell him what I’ve told you.” “I won’t tell him.
But you do realize that you’re taking part in my murder? Because I doubt Master would have as much interest in eating me if I was skinny.
You’re preparing me for him.” She averted her eyes back to the stew, and assumed a stoic expression.
“I’m just doing my job.
I don’t have a choice.” I picked up a saucepan and slammed it down against the kitchen counter in frustration.
Perhaps she was right that there was no way to get me out of here without being seen, but this wasn’t the answer I needed to hear.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I ran back into the main room and stopped at the window, staring out once again at the bleak surroundings—the sharp mountains, the overcast sky.
“So what’s the plan then? How much longer until your Master will come for me?” When she hesitated, I said, “Just tell me.
I already promised you that I won’t tell him you’ve told me anything.” She still seemed wary, but I supposed she felt like talking to me was the least she could do for me.
“He gave me three days to start plumping you up, and he will check your progress on the third evening.” “And if I refuse to eat?” She looked at me with sad eyes.
“He will come anyway.
If you take too long to fatten up, he may still take you into his quarters and force-feed you there himself.
Your last days will be better spent with me, Miss Rose.” She shuddered.
“Trust me, you want to spend as little time with Master as possible.” Last days.
I hated the resignation in her voice, as though there was no part of her that had any flicker of hope that I might survive.
She poured out a bowl of stew and walked out of the kitchen, setting it down on my dressing table.
“Eat,” she said.
No way am I fattening myself up for that monster.
I’d rather starve to death first.
I shook my head.
“If Anselm wants me to eat, you can tell him he’ll have to feed me himself.” She looked at me reluctantly.
I walked up to her and gripped the hem of her smock, staring her right in the eye.
“Go on.
Tell him I’m waiting here.” She shook her head.
“No, Miss Rose—” “Go now.” She stared at me disbelievingly, but stopped resisting.
She removed her apron and hung it up on a hook on the wall, then extinguished the fire beneath the stew.
I didn’t take my eyes off her until she’d plodded across the floor and exited, locking the door behind her.
As soon as she was out of sight, I hurried to the kitchen.
I picked up the two sharpest knives I could find from the drawer and, after replacing their sheaths, fastened them beneath my dress to my inner thighs with two silk scarves I found in the closet.
Then I sat on the bed, staring at the door.
I wasn’t going to wait here like a sitting duck for him to come to me.
I was going to start calling the shots about my fate.
Even if it did mean inviting an early death to my door.
Chapter 10: Rose
I was both relieved and frightened when the door finally opened an hour later.
I held my breath as Anselm stepped into the room after Bella.
He wore a long dark cloak over his lean shoulders, and his hair was slicked back.
His face was clean-shaven, revealing his sharp jawline, and his brown skin smelt of a faint musk.
If I didn’t abhor him so much, I would have almost described him as handsome.
His orange eyes settled on me.
“Arabella tells me that you wanted to see me.” I stood up as he closed the distance between us and stopped a foot away from me.
