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Will you sit and talk with me for a while?” I ask and sit in front of the tray of delicious smelling food. I want one last conversation with the woman who has provided me with relative normality while I have been here. I will miss her company and her cooking too when I’m home.
“Of course.” She takes the seat opposite the dinner tray.
I take the cloche off the plate and smile; chunky bacon and spaghetti smothered in a cream sauce. I take my first forkful. “It’s delicious. Did Mr. Black also eat?”
“Yes. He has eaten and has retired for the evening. Do you mind if I ask why you did not dine together?”
Once I have swallowed another mouthful of pasta, I answer. “I figure he is never around anyway. I’ve gotten used to being by myself most of the time, except for your company, of course.”
She nods. “I don’t know if I should tell you or not, but I feel you have the right to know.”
“Go on,” I prompt.
“He was upset that you didn’t dine with him tonight, since he’d asked me to make your favorite meal specifically. He was trying to make it up to you for his being away all the time. He knows it must be hard for you living here with not much to do. I also mentioned your blog that you were writing this afternoon and that I believe you should be able to publish it.”
“What did he say about that?” I ask.
“He said he will read it and if it’s that important to you then he can organize for it to be posted online.” She smiles at me.
I give her a small smile in return before focusing on my meal and lifting another forkful to my mouth, thinking about what Thelma had just confessed as I chew and swallow. As much as I’m happy he asked Thelma to make my favorite meal to share together, and that he is willing to publish one of my blogs, it doesn’t change anything. He treats me like I am one of his possessions, only ever bringing me out and spending time with me when it suits him Even though he has explained to me that the men he associates with aren’t nice people, and that he is trying to protect me by keeping me out of sight, it doesn’t change the facts. The majority of the time he’s home, he ignores me.
I just can’t do this anymore.
I deposit my fork beside my near-empty bowl and push away from the table. “Thank you for dinner, Thelma, it was delicious. If you will excuse me, I might have a shower and head to bed.” Without waiting for a response, I head straight into the bathroom and ready the shower. I savor the way the hot water runs over my body, enjoying the sensation of it biting into my flesh.
When I exit, with a towel wrapped around my body, I see that Thelma has gone, leaving only the tea and scones for me. In the closet, I put on black lace underwear and the loose black cotton dress I sometimes wear to bed, instead of the black satin nightgowns that are tucked away in the drawers. I pour myself a cup of tea and spread each half of the buttermilk scones with strawberry jam and top with vanilla flavored whipped cream. A moan escapes my lips after biting into the lovely combination. I savor the taste, knowing this will be the last item of Thelma’s I will ever eat. I sip at the tea—chamomile to help me sleep. Although it has become somewhat a routine, tonight I won’t be sleeping.
Tonight, I will be running away.
I peer out my window at the pitch-black darkness surrounding the manor—it is now or never. I look around at the bedroom that has become my safe place over the past few months, and to the closet that holds my go bag. I walk in and lace my feet into the black runners and take hold of my bag to peer inside—a change of clothes, hairbrush, wallet, keys to my home back in California, and a bottle of water are safely stowed away.
I look up from the bag to the mirror in front of me. Part of me wants to stay in the safety of this home and keep trying with Alexander, as I can see in his eyes that he holds himself back. If I could get him to give in to his emotions, we would have a real shot at a relationship. After all, the sparks that fly when we’ve kissed can’t just be mine. The other part of me wants to go home, if only to ask my family what the hell they were thinking when they gave me away. But the main thing I want, no, check that, Ineedis to see if I am worth enough to him to bother coming to get me.
So, I put the bag back in its place on the top shelf, and toe off my shoes, instead choosing to go bare foot, then leave the room. I pad down the stairs quietly, taking them quicker than usual; when I come to the front door, I say a silent prayer that it’s unlocked. As I turn the handle, I send up a thank you and slip out the door, closing it quietly behind me. At first, I walk—just in case anyone is looking, it will appear as though I am taking a midnight stroll around the property. I turn back toward the mansion after a few minutes and gaze longingly upon the dark monolithic stone structure behind me. The light in my bedroom is visible, calling out to me like a beacon, wanting me to walk toward it and go back home. But I can’t. I turn on my heel again and run, toward the back of the property and the forest that awaits me.
~ Chapter Thirteen ~
Alexander
I am dragged away from the contract I am reading by the sound of the alarm on my security system waking me from my dreams. I rub my eyes while realizing that even during sleep, I am completely unable to escape work. I force myself into a sitting position and roll out of bed, searching for which of the alarms has been set off. I look over the small screens relating to each of the various systems and see they are all fine. I’m beginning to think I must have dreamt it all when it sounds again. Instead of it coming from the main system, though, it comes from the small laptop in front.
I wiggle the mouse, turning the screen from black to the log on screen. I quickly enter my credentials and then place my palm down on the scanner. Once complete, it pops up immediately. Rebecca’s bracelet has her in the forest at the back of the property.
I head directly into my closet, throwing on jeans, boots, and a jumper, and grabbing my fur coat. Not that I need it, having grown up and spent my entire life in merry ol’ England. You get used to the cold weather, as it’s always any Brit’s constant companion. Rebecca will need the coat when I find her, as no doubt she is freezing.
On the way out, I grab the rifle I keep in the gun safe in my office. If she gets to the edge of the forest, they might get to her first, and if they do, she’ll experience things she will never get over. I can’t let that happen.
I pull my phone from my pocket and press the only number I have saved to my speed dial. And as always, he answers before the phone has a chance to ring for a second time.
“What do you need?” he asks.
“Harold, she’s left the house, she’s in the back forest. We must find her before Lexington’s men do. My grip on the rifle hardens as scenarios of what they could do to Rebecca flash through my mind.
“On my way now,” he clips before ending the call.
I head out of my quarters and run toward the forest at the back. When I find her, I’ll tell her everything about me. No more secrets will stand between us. I need to tell her how I feel before I explode. I can’t risk her attempting to leave again, just because she thinks that being here is some sort of punishment and that she is unwelcome. She is the only person I want with me for the rest of my life, and her leaving like this has given me the kick in the butt I needed to ensure that I tell her everything.
I don’t have the strength to stay away from her anymore since the staying away for weeks or months at a time wasn’t working anyway. She has run away, obviously because she doesn’t know how I really feel about her.
