To Have and to Hold (2 page)

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Authors: Rebecca King

BOOK: To Have and to Hold
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“Damn you to
hell, Dominic!” Isobel muttered cursing her own folly.
 
Quickly closing off the painful memories of
him, Isobel turned her thoughts back to her current predicament.
 
“There was certainly nobody else in life,
other than Kitty, whom you should consider.”
 
Isobel thought bleakly.
 
“You are
well and truly on your own now so get used to it!”
 

The stark
reality of her current situation was raw.
 
“But what shall I do?
 
Where should
I go?”
  
Fighting desperately to stop the
growing wave of hysteria Isobel took several deep breaths to try to calm
herself
and think rationally.
 
Suddenly, she was so very glad for the
reassuring presence of the woman before her.
  
For the time being, at least, she wasn’t completely alone in this
hideous situation she was in!

“Please miss,
you have the pouch of coins Master Peter left you with?”
 
Isobel nodded hesitantly and swallowed
against the lump that had formed at the thought of her elder brother.
 
“Then you must take it.
 
Or alternatively what’s left of it.
 
You must leave now for they will take you on
the morrow, and I fear for your safety - your very life - should you go with
them.”
 

Isobel closed
her eyes as the mental image of the short, florid faced elderly man popped into
mind.
 
His green eyes roving over
lasciviously at her as he had the last time they had unfortunately crossed
paths were simply vile.
 
The thought of
being married to him and subjected to God knows what left her quaking in fear.

“Miss, hurry
up!”
 
Kitty’s abrupt shake of her
shoulders snapped her out of her
daze
.
 

“Oh, yes
Kitty.”
 
Isobel murmured, fighting the
clawing panic that threatened to overwhelm her.
 
“Of course I will go now.”
 

Isobel watched
woodenly as Kitty hurried to the linen closet and began to pull out the few
remaining items her Uncle had allowed her to keep.
 
All had been used repeatedly since her
arrival at the house several weeks earlier and were soiled and stained beyond
redemption.
 

Snapping out of
her revere, Isobel moved to the bed and quickly began to sift through the
assembled garments.
 
“Wait!”
 
Isobel frowned down at the meagre pile of
cloth.
 
“I can’t take these!
 
I have no way of carrying them.
 
I will travel quicker if I don’t carry
anything.”
 
Isobel deliberately blanked
out the gnawing doubts that began to grow as she sat down upon the edge of the
bed and tugged on her only walking boots.

“Miss, I have
relatives in Coniston up in the Lakes.
 
They will not be able to keep you for long, but they will be able to
give you somewhere warm and dry to stay until you can decide what to do.
 
You just get yourself there.
 
However best you can.”
 
Isobel could hear the doubt in Kitty’s voice
but chose to remain silent.
 
“You tell
them Kitty sent you, all will be well.
 
Ask for Annie, she is my cousin.
 
She works at
Winheld
Hall.”

“Right,
Winheld
Hall in Coniston.”
 
Isobel murmured softly with a tiny shake of
her head.
 
The words swam around Isobel
in a hazy fog as she considered the enormity of the task before her.
 
Never before had she been allowed out on her
own
unchaperoned
and yet here she was discussing with
her maid setting out alone in the middle of the night with nothing more than a
few coins in her pocket and the clothes on her back!

“Here take these.”
 
Isobel looked down the leather pouch of coins
thrust into her palm that was added to the small pouch Peter had given her
before he had departed months earlier.
 
“These are your life savings Kitty; I can’t take these!”
  

“Please
miss!
 
When you are safe you may get the
coins back to me somehow, but first you must get out of here.”
 
Kitty failed to inform her mistress of the
rest of the manservant’s vile boasts about the exact nature of the future that
lay in store for her as the wife of a profligate gambler and lecherous
beast.
 
“Tie me up.”
 
Kitty added ignoring the startled gasp from
the younger woman.

Isobel looked
down at the strips of stockings Kitty was holding out to her.
 
It was the only way Isobel could ensure Kitty
would not be punished for her assistance, but she couldn’t prevent the surge of
horror she felt in the thought of inflicting pain upon another person. “If
Rupert does punish you Kitty, and throws you out on your ear, you must make
your own way to Coniston.
 
I shall await
you there.
 
Do you have enough funds
yourself?”
 

“Don’t you worry
about me miss, I can get myself there.”
 
Kitty’s eyes shone defiantly in the darkness.
 
“Just make sure you aren’t caught.”
 
Her tone was laden with threat as she
reminded her mistress of the consequences to them both should she get
caught.
 
She took a seat upon the rickety
wooden chair in the centre of the room.
  
Quickly, Isobel did the straps securing her friend to the hard
object.
 

“Hit me and make
it good,” Kitty whispered with a hard glare.
 

“What?”
 
Isobel squeaked, suddenly feeling sick.
 
Having such first-hand experience of what it
was like to be the recipient of a fist, she loathed to inflict it upon another.
 
“No!”
 

“You must,
otherwise
he
will know it is a set
up.
 
If you really do not want me to get
caught you must make it look real.
 
Hit
me, it is alright!” Kitty’s voice hardened in anticipation.
 
“Make it good!”
 
Her own safety depended on Isobel’s
compliance.

Tears pooled in
Isobel’s eyes as she stared aghast at her maid for several long moments.
 
Closing her eyes with a silent prayer
heavenwards, she raised her hand.
 
Tears
streamed down her face at the sound of her hand meeting the other woman’s cheek
broke the silence.
 
For several moments,
she stood and wept as the hollow sound of her hand meeting flesh echoed in her
ears with too much familiarity.
 

“It’s alright
Miss.”
 
Kitty mumbled, her voice laced
with pain, “You must go now.”
 
In the
darkness, Isobel couldn’t see how much she had marked the older woman but could
see the dark trickle of blood coming from the corner of her mouth.
 

“I am so sorry
Kitty.”
 
Isobel muttered wishing she
could undo the ties and give the woman a hug.
 

“Get out of
here.
 
Now!”
 
Kitty’s voice was harsh in the still of the
room.
 

Swiping the
dampness from her cheeks, Isobel sniffed and nodded before turning away.
 
Carefully drawing her only remaining shawl
tighter about her shoulders she turned towards the heavy wooden door to the
room that had been her virtual prison for the past two months.
  

Through the
gloom of the darkened bedroom, Isobel glanced backwards wordlessly seeking
reassurance of her only ally.
 
With a
quivering quirk of her lips, she accepted the encouraging nod Kitty gave her
and disappeared into the darkness of the upper hallway.
 

She could only
hope that one day she would be in a position to offer Kitty the thanks she so
richly deserved.
 
Indeed, should all of
Isobel’s plans come to fruition; she would be in
a
position to ensure Kitty remain in employment, for as long as she wanted.
 
That is unless her Uncle didn’t dispose of
her first!

Isobel
slowly opened her eyes.
 
All of her
senses tuned to any signs of movement in the hallway before her.
 
She now knew what the term ‘deathly silence’
meant.
 
It was indeed claustrophobic
standing enshrouded in the rich blackness of the house that had once been so
familiar to her.
 

Scenting
her first taste of freedom for several long and painful weeks, everything
within her screamed at her to run as fast as her feet would carry her.
 
It took all of her willpower to ease away
from the strangely comforting solidity of the bedroom door and carefully take
the first steps across the upper hallway towards freedom.
 

There
was no moonlight to penetrate the thick blackness that settled around her.
 
Gosport Hall was her grandmother’s former
residence; a large sprawling house that was full of happy times and much
teasing laughter.
 
There wasn’t any part
of the rambling abode she didn’t know in minute detail.
 
Indeed, most of her childhood was spent
chasing her elder brother Peter through the long, draughty corridors.
 

Now
the gaiety and laughter of her formative years were nothing more than a faint
echo of her distant past.
 
Gosport’s once
lavishly warm and inviting rooms now stood cold and empty.
 
The heavy wooden shutters remained closed
even during the daytime, blocking out the bright sunlight leaving the rooms
feeling isolated and damp.
 
Thanks to her
Uncle’s greed and carelessness the rooms held a menacing air that permeated the
bones and made one constantly cold and uncomfortable.
 

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