Anabel Unraveled (18 page)

“Mm,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“What are you reading, Annie?” Charlie asked me, smiling kindly. He was such a sweet man, always so concerned about me.

“Um . . . a book on the rise and fall of Tudor England,” I lied. I was reading The Other Boleyn Girl, but I knew Jonathan wouldn’t approve. “It has some really long title to that effect.”

I walked over to Jonathan and kissed him on the forehead. Then I turned to the other members of our party. “Goodnight, Charlie. Jared.” I didn’t even look at him as I stomped off.

When I got to my room, I sighed. I decided to have a lazy night. I changed into my favorite white nightgown. It fell just around my knees, and the top was laced with pink ribbon. It made me feel delicate and feminine, and was just the outfit to read one of my favorite love stories with. I put The Other Boleyn Girl aside for now, and stared at my shelf, contemplating. Then I grinned, and I pulled out Pride and Prejudice and was settling in one of my armchairs when I heard the knock at my door.

I groaned and searched for my bathrobe. “Just a minute,” I called, and pulled it around me. My heart skipped a beat. Was Jared there, ready to apologize and sweep me up in his arms? With gusto I ran to the knocking and flung open the door. “I knew you’d come—oh.” I stopped when I saw Charlie’s bemused smile. “Hi there.”

“Hi Annie,” he greeted me. “In your pajamas already?”

I shrugged, trying to hide my sinking heart. “I felt lazy, and I’m not planning on going anywhere. Jonathan is meeting with Jared, and I don’t usually get the pleasure of your company.”

“May I come in?”

I stepped back and Charlie walked in. “Let’s go to your library,” he suggested.

“Alright,” I agreed, stymied by his presence. “Can I get you something to drink?” I gestured at my little fridge.

“No, I’m fine,” he declined. We sat down in the armchairs. He studied me a moment. “Anabel, I can only imagine how hard the past couple of days have been on you.”

“It has been a bit awkward,” I admitted.

“I know you’re not used to . . . other people. I fear that having Jared Sorensen here has been a difficult experience. He may have gotten your hopes up.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I overheard him telling Jonathan that he is going to recommend that Sam not let you leave Caereon.”

“WHAT?” I shrieked. “No, no, Charlie, that can’t possibly be right. He’s spent this entire time telling me that he’s on my side, that he would do anything to get me out of here. I know he doesn’t want to admit it, but he does care about me, Charlie, I know he does.” But the words rang hollow as I said them, and I drifted into thought. “Or maybe,” I mulled it over, “maybe he was just saying that because he didn’t want to upset me.”

“Your behavior has been most unlike you, Annie,” observed Charlie. “I’ve never seen you like this, and I’m sure that Jonathan has commented to Jared the same. So Jared probably views your erratic behavior as a sign that it would be best if you stayed.”

Erratic behavior. That was the phrase everyone kept using. Still, I bristled. “Sam wants me to come and live with him,” I claimed, defiant.

“Yes, but there’s been red tape that he has been fighting for years, Annie—it hasn’t been easy for him,” noted Charlie. “I think, however, you need to understand that the people who really care about you are here, honey. As misguided as he is, Jonathan loves you very much. And I—I view you as my own daughter,” he declared, his voice filled with emotion.

“Oh Charlie!” I cried, and sprang into his arms as the tears began to fall. He held me for a few moments and stroked my hair, letting me cry it out.

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured. “It’s tough to have someone break your trust like Jared has broken yours, and of course it’s affecting you. You’ve never had someone betray you quite like this.”

“No,” I sniffled. “No, you’re right.”

“So you see, sweetheart,” he continued, “I know you may not think it, but you’ll come to understand that this is the place for you, at least for now. There are people who care about you just as much, if not more, than your brother does. And furthermore,” he paused and looked at my red face, “Jared Sorensen—he’s just the kind that thinks only of himself. It’s been wrong of him to use you like this.”

“Wh—why do you think he did this to me?” I asked, hiccupping.

“Something you will learn when you do go back to the States is that people like Jared put themselves and their own well-being above everything else. And look at you! You’re a beautiful girl, charming, and easy to talk to—of course he wanted to spend time with you. I just also think that he took advantage of how trusting you are. You attached yourself to him, Anabel,” he continued, “because you thought he was your rescuer.”

“But he’s not. I was completely mistaken about him.” I managed a small smile at Charlie. “Thank you for coming to talk to me.”

“Of course, honey. Now listen, I really think you should just stay in your room tonight, and keep out of the way of your father and that man, okay?”

I nodded. “I have Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy to keep me company.” I gestured to my book.

He gave me a gracious smile. “Have a good night, Annie.” He made his way to the door.

“Charlie?” I called.

He turned to look at me. “I know I probably should have told you this a long time ago, but . . . I’m . . . I’m sorry about Marilyn,” I blurted out.

“That’s not your fault, Anabel.” As he said that, I noticed his jaw clench, and I detected an edge to his voice.

“I know. But still, I feel terrible. I know you cared a great deal for her.”

He paused, as if about to say something, but then stopped himself. “That’s alright then, Annie, don’t blame yourself. Now have a good evening.”

I should have locked the door, but I didn’t. Instead, I sat on my armchair, lost in thought, attempting to read Pride and Prejudice. It was after I realized that I had reread the same sentence five times that I threw the book down in disgust. I couldn’t concentrate, and I stared at the floor for a minute, trying to figure out what to do.

It was then that I remembered something.

When my father had moved me into this suite (I had previously lived in adjoining rooms, which were connected to the east end of my library, with Miss Marilyn), he had taken me to a small door in the back of it. “Anabel,” he had announced, “I need you to listen to me.”

I, of course, was still mad at him for taking away my only friend, so I stared at him in my most defiant way.

“Even though I believe we are safe here, we must allow for the possibility that something could happen to endanger our lives. We live on an island full of convicts, after all.”

“Mm,” I acknowledged.

“For that reason,” he continued, “it never hurts to take some precautions.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anabel, focus,” he snapped. Jonathan flung open the door, and I let out a gasp.

There were monitors in that room, monitors that showed all of the main areas of Caereon. The view from the top of the piazza, the dining room, the front entryway, and all of the sitting rooms. I’d say there were at least fifteen monitors. “If the occasion ever arises that you need to know what’s going on, this will be your entryway.” He paused. “I suggest you do not mention this to anyone.”

“How can I?” I snapped. “It’s not like I have anyone to talk to.”

“Anabel, I know you don’t understand this, but it’s for the best.”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you anymore,” I warned. “All we will wind up doing is yelling at each other, and I don’t have time for that.”

That memory propelled me to the back room to spy on Jared and Jonathan’s conversation.

I focused on the screen that held my father and Jared. Neither of them looked pleased to be there. Jared’s tie had come loose; his top shirt button was undone and the suit jacket that he had been wearing at dinner was slung over the back of his seat. His face looked redder than normal; it was with annoyance and revulsion that I realized he and my father had been drinking.

At that point I wondered if my father had told me what room they were in on purpose so I would watch it. I’m pretty sure Jared would not have wanted me to hear what transpired.

First off, it’s important for you to know that my father can hold his liquor. I’ve seen him drink glass after glass of whiskey; it doesn’t faze him. He was a connoisseur of the spirit: he had a liquor cabinet that housed bottle after bottle of the amber liquid. Having never tried it, I personally cannot tell you a thing about the taste, but I can tell you that Jonathan preferred single malt. He had at least one glass every night after dinner. Focusing the screen, I saw that he had a bottle of what looked like Belvenie on the table. He was sitting on one side, Jared on the other. Quickly calculating the amount of time that had elapsed since dinner, I figured that Jonathan had consumed at least two glasses, and was working on his third.

Jared took a long sip out of his and put it down on the desk with gusto. I thought he looked like he should have stopped after that, but Jonathan refilled his glass.

“So you know, Mr. Sorensen, why I chose the Belvenie for us this evening?”

“Can’t imagine,” Jared slurred.

“Because, Mr. Sorensen,” my father continued in a velvety voice, “it goes down very easy, and I wanted to make sure that you were not in complete control of your faculties before I spoke with you this evening.” He topped off Jared’s glass. “Let’s get down to brass tacks, shall we?”

“I don’t understand what that even means,” Jared muttered.

“It means we need to discuss why you’re here.” Jonathan leaned over. “At first I thought you were here to respond to some complaints that I know one of my senior officers has lodged about the treatment of the inmates here. However, when we showed you the prison the only thing you seemed interested in was looking down the front of my daughter’s dress, so I concluded that was not the issue.”

“I wasn’t—it was her,” Jared attempted to protest. “She was—throwing—herself at me.”

“Be that as it may, I expect you to control yourself around my teenaged daughter.” Jonathan took another sip.

“Sh—she’s almost twenty,” pronounced Jared, nearly sounding proud of himself.

“Indeed,” sniffed my father. “The point being, Mr. Sorensen, it was with a growing annoyance that I realized that you were sent here to monitor her. I hadn’t thought Sam would stoop that low, but here it is.” He sat back. “What I don’t think my stepson will like, however, is how much hands-on monitoring you have been doing.”

Jared groaned. “Cut the crap, Martin. I know you already sent Charlie to try and talk me out of getting her off the island, but let me,” he paused, “let me tell you something, Jonathan Martin. I’m going to tell Sam everything.”

“Everything?” My father’s eyebrows went up. “Including the fact that you were, as one of the inmates so graciously put it, swapping spit with my daughter on top of the piazza?”

“Now wait just a minute,” Jared went a bit cross-eyed. Some dashing hero, I thought. Can’t even hold his drink.

“What I am saying, Mr. Sorensen, is that I highly suspect that my stepson will not be pleased with your recent actions, and I would like to offer you a deal,” he proposed. I leaned forward with interest.

“What?” Jared asked, sitting up and taking another swig of whiskey.

“I think we can work out an arrangement, the two of us. We’re both men, aren’t we?” Jonathan swirled his glass in a manner I knew to be dangerous. Jared stared at him. I didn’t like where this was going.

“I know that Anabel is nothing to you. You were just looking for a bit of fun with her, weren’t you?” Jonathan asked.

Jared looked like he was about to disagree, but then nodded.

I fell back in my chair, feeling my heart deflate.

“I understand, Jared,” my father continued. “I remember what it was like to be young, and a pretty girl catches your eye . . . it’s nothing more than a little attraction, that’s all. And why not? You’re a good-looking man.”

Jared was hanging on my father’s every word. My disgust was rising.

“The problem, my friend, the problem . . .” That was the moment that my father’s eyes narrowed and he scowled across the table at Jared. “The p-problem is that it was my d-daughter you were toying with, and now there are consequences!”

A smile spread across Jared’s face. “You’re just scared I’ll take her away, aren’t you, Jonathan?”

“YOU WILL N-NOT TAKE HER ANYWHERE!” Jonathan roared. “What makes you think that Sam will believe your word over mine, Sorensen?”

“Because he knows you’re a nutter,” proclaimed Jared.

“Ah, but despite that, if I show Sam pictures of you sexually harassing my daughter—”

“For the record, SHE sexually harassed me!”

“Do you really think Sam is going to believe that, given your reputation?” Jonathan asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Jared sat back in his chair.

I had seen enough. I turned off the monitor and went back into my room.

He couldn’t stand up to my father.

Nobody could. I don’t know why I thought Jared would be any different.

I was defeated. My father would have his way, of course. It had been silly of me to think that anyone could do anything for me. I was alone. I had always been alone. .

Which was Jonathan’s fault.

“Why is he so obsessed with me?” I wondered out loud. But even as I said it, I knew why.

He hadn’t been able to control my mother. And Jonathan hated not being in charge, as manifested by the way Caereon was run. Every detail of the operation was meticulously accounted for . . . but he hadn’t been able to do that with Cassidy. So he was refocusing his energies on controlling me. The fact that I looked a lot like her didn’t help. Still, I meditated, he wasn’t always terrible. In all fairness, he could be tender to me and quite generous when he chose. I always had lovely birthday gifts. He knew my tastes when it came to books—and clothes for that matter—and had always ordered beautiful things that had been delivered to us from the mainland. But this was just another way of manipulating me. Want to keep Anabel indoors and away from the inmates? Buy her The Lord of the Rings. Buy her Jane Austen. With the accompanying movies, of course. I owned all five hours of Pride and Prejudice with Colin Firth and had watched it many times. And the clothes! Gorgeous pieces. I loved dresses. I could spend hours in front of my mirror with my wardrobe alone.