Wilhelmina A Novella (4 page)

‘No,’ I said, boldly. I’m certain that there was a small part of me that was afraid of what I’d just said, maybe even regretted it under the governess’ cold glare, but Mr. Abberdean’s eyes and beautifully pale and angelic face under his dark blonde curls had risen my defiant and wild self out of its slumber.

‘No?’ the governess asked. I nodded firmly, though my fists were trembling out of dread. ‘Then if that is your final decision for today, I will keep the letter here in my drawer. After all, it’s only a matter of time until you break. When you finally do, you can have it.’

She sent me off, and I immediately ran through the halls with tenacity. My body was trapped in this prison, but my spirit was free, and miles away with Mr. Abberdean.

That night, I stared out of the ward windows for what must have been hours, gazing up into the far tower where the governess’ den was perched. Her light never went out, but only tonight did I care enough to notice. Sometimes I could see her staring out her window into the dark forest lining the mansion.

As the nights went by, I lost more and more sleep as I stared up into her den, wondering why the lights never doused. Surely she must have slept, right? But when, I wondered.

If I wanted Charles in my life again, I needed to get to his letters somehow, but they were locked away in her desk. And if she never left her den, then how was I to read them without accepting her conditions? But the thought of cutting my hair, Charles’ hair, for his letters felt as though it was an insult because I was certain that he was writing to the wild haired and spirited Wilhelmina that he left behind. If I cut my hair, I would no longer be that girl. He would never smile the same way again if I allowed the governess to cut my thick mane.

At the same time, if I didn’t write back to Charles then he would think that I had forgotten him. I knew the feeling of abandonment well, and it was something that I never wanted to inflict on his gentle soul.

I was at a horrible, horrible impasse with no solution but the wrong one, which was to give in to the governess.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. Every time a letter came, the governess made it a point to summon me and flaunt it before my eyes. She would then administrate her previous offer once again, and still I would refuse. I became so resilient that I even refused to let the groomers
trim
my hair.

Seven letters later and neither of us were any closer to giving in.

After five months, I devised a plan. It was my ingenious plan, and I was going to make sure that I did not fail. I would die before I gave up on Charles, and so I set my scheme into motion.

Every month, the governess would hold a party. After the sun set, she invited a small group of acquaintances into her home and me and the girls could only imagine what went on between the laughs and the screams we listened to in our beds. But the most important detail of that night was that the governess would douse the candles in her den and host the small gathering.

It was my chance.

I had devised my scheme quite brilliantly, and I was even a little smug about how clever my mind had been.

One of the house slaves, Minus, was the keeper of the keys, and every night after our supper he was ordered to lock us in the ward. But that night I had stuffed the door latch with small strips of cloth so that when he closed the door it would not catch. So even though he locked the door and we couldn’t twist the handle, I could still pull it open and proceed with the next step in my plan.

I waited patiently until I saw the governess’ candlelight die out, and then set out on my journey. I wrapped myself in a black silk bed sheet and stowed away into the darkness of the mansion. Making my way through the halls undetected was the easy part. The difficulty came when I had actually made it to the governess’ den.

I gripped one of her candles and lit it with one of the few matches I had pocketed from a yard slave’s tobacco bag. I hovered over her desk, slowly examining the drawer.

It was locked with a padlock, and I had no way of opening it without the key. I contemplated breaking it with a candleholder, but that was a sure giveaway and there would be grim consequences. I shuffled around her desk, searching for the key, but gave up when I realized that she would have it on her person at all times.

When I looked up, I saw a pair of red eyes and I nearly screamed.

‘Shouldn’t you be in bed?’ the stranger asked. There sat was a tall, pale man with olive skin and eyes that matched the governess’ almost identically. I wondered if the two of them were related, as I had never seen red eyes on anyone else before. He was stretched out on her long sofa, watching me intently with crimson delight.

‘Pardon me, sir, I did not mean to disturb you,’ I told him with a curtsey. I was about to make my exit when he stood quickly, blocking my path.

‘What’s your hurry?’ he asked in his smooth French accent.

‘I really must be off to bed, and the governess isn’t here, so neither of us should be in here when she is away,’ I said.

‘Weren’t you looking for something?’ he asked as he slowly advanced.

‘No, no, I just wanted to speak with the governess,’ I said. His height and stance frightened me, and it was a great effort on my part to keep from shaking in my boots.

‘You’re a poor liar,’ he grinned. ‘I believe you were looking for this.’ He reached inside of his red waistcoat and produced a small brass key. My eyes flashed on the key to the drawer and I stared in wonder. How had he managed to get his ashen hands on that?

‘I can give it to you,’ he smiled cunningly, but there was still mischief in his eyes.

‘What are you doing up here, sir?’ I asked. His smile faded a bit, and he twiddled the key in his fingers.

‘To be honest, I was waiting for you,’ he said.

‘For me?’

‘The governess has told us all about your little war a few months ago, and how you’re such a stubborn child. We had a laugh, and I was going to leave it at that, but I knew you would come here looking for the letters tonight,’ he said. I was amazed and, admittedly, somewhat fascinated by the fact that he had known that I would come looking for the letters, specifically tonight. ‘You see, most people don’t know that I have a…
special gift
. It’s my own little secret.’

‘What is it?’ I asked, mesmerized by his deep eyes as he spoke.

‘I sense deceit and betrayal, and I could feel it coming strongly from your ward this evening. It didn’t take me long to figure out that you’d be coming here, and look; here you are, proof in the point.’

‘Are you going to tell?’ I asked wearily. He knelt down and smiled, reassuringly, though his dark red eyes still made my stomach quiver with fear.

‘No, I just want to ask a favor of you,’ he said. ‘You see, just like the governess, I, too, know Charles. I saw him not long ago, in London, working in the field of medicine with a colleague of his.’

‘You have?’ I asked. ‘Is he alright?’

He smiled again, flashing his perfect smile. Half of me was allured to his dazzling smile and gaze, but half of me felt a near-irresistible to run, like I could sense that he was a predator - a snake - posed to strike. But the very mention of Charles' name held me firmly in place.

'He's just fine - he even told me about you, his little Wilhelmina.'

‘What did he say?’ I asked.

‘He told me of how wonderful you are, and how soft you feel,’ the stranger said. ‘I used to have children of my own, and my daughter used to sit on my lap at the end of a long day and I would read to her. But I haven’t felt the warmth and joy of a child in many years.’

‘Why not?’ I asked. The sorrow in his eyes lured me a little closer as I grew a bit curious about his past.

‘I lost her to an illness many years ago, but I miss her terribly,' he said. ‘I will make you a deal; you sit on my lap for a moment, and I will give you this key.’

He widened his eyes innocently, but I was still hesitant. I yearned for Charles’ letters, and would do anything to get to them, but the instinctual guttural feeling gnawing away at my insides was telling me to run as fast as I could. I could even feel the adrenaline rushing through my body to the soles of my feet.

‘Please... For my daughter’s memory, as well as Charles’?’

‘Okay,’ I nodded.

How could I say no to Charles’ name?

He smiled brilliantly and sat on the couch, patting his knee. I slowly tiptoed across the cold floor and slowly sat down with my back to him. He wrapped an arm around my waist and I tried to relax my tense body against his hard cold stomach.

‘There, that’s not so bad, is it?’

His cold whispers flooded my senses with anxiety. I shook my head, nervously gripping his other knee as I waited to get the key;
my
key to get Charles back into
my
world.

I tensed as he brushed my long curls back and ran a cool finger down the length of my neck. Then, he gently gripped my neck with his palm, and guided my head back until I was staring up at the ceiling.

‘So young,’ he whispered hungrily. ‘So ripe.’

‘Sir, I would like the key now,’ I said, struggling out of his hold.

However, he did not let me go. His grip tightened, and his voice grew huskier as he continued to run his fingers over my neck.

‘Virgin blood, waiting to be tasted; I will never understand how Charles was able to resist for three long years.’ He breathed as he sniffed my hair. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his lips curl back until his pearl-white teeth were visible. ‘He may not forgive me, but an opportunity like this does not come along but once, maybe twice every long century.’

I remember my last few frightened thoughts were of Charles. Somehow, deep down inside of me, I knew that I was going to die. But with the thought of Charles behind my eyes, I was comforted enough to know that I was loved by someone, anyone, in the empty shell that was the world.

I closed my eyes as the stranger hissed, and then I felt his teeth on the soft, supple flesh beneath my jaw.

‘What are you doing in here?’

The snarling hiss of the governess slithered through the room like shadowy imps, crawling along the walls pointing accusations. She sounded like a bobcat as she stormed into the den.

‘Forgive me, Elizabeth, but I could not help myself!’ The stranger apologized sheepishly, letting go of me and backing away.

‘Not you,
her!
’ She growled.

‘Attempting to get into your letters, governess; I found her with this,’ he said, holding up the key to her drawer. I stared with utter disbelief - I couldn’t believe the lie that had slithered off of his tongue.

‘He had the key! He followed me here!’ I shouted, but the governess' ears were deaf to my pleas. She towered my side in the blink of an eye, gripping my wrist so hard that I was certain it would snap under the pressure.

‘You ungrateful little whore!’ The governess screeched. ‘To lay with a man just so you can defy me is lower than even the cheapest street walker could ever sink!’

‘Governess Bathory, I swear to you –’

‘You will
not
speak to me until I direct you to do so!’ She dragged me out of her den by my arm, the hard flakey nails digging their jagged edges into my skin. I stumbled down the stairs as I followed her out to the courtyard and into the garden where the slave’s sleeping quarters were. The small cottage door threw itself open by some invisible force, and the governess screamed like a banshee in the night.

Minus appeared in the doorway, groggy eyed and fearful as he took in her anger, visible even through her black veil.

‘She is to be locked in the old shed until I say otherwise! Do not speak to her, do not feed her, do not even acknowledge her
existence
or else I will make sure that you disappear along with her - and I promise you, Minus, you and your family will not be missed.’

The governess thrust me into Minus’ iron arms and vanished into the darkness. I watched her fiery red eye until it disappeared into the shadows. That night, I would learn what it truly meant to yearn and to mourn. I tasted defeat for the first time.

I had no idea what was to become of me now that the governess was convinced that I was a loose floozy who would do whatever it took to undermine her. She would no doubt tell my sister, and my step-mother.

I was ashamed, misunderstood, and alone in a nightmare that I wished so desperately to escape. Charles’ letters were the only hope that had kept me alive in this glorified dungeon these past few months, and the governess was sure to burn them now.

Death at the hands of the stranger would have been a much less painful endeavor to endure, and if I had known back then what sort of hell awaited me after that night, I would have accepted death with a smile.

3. Broken

The night was so long, but the day was even longer. The sun soared high in the sky, but I was trapped in the shade, locked in the garden shed. I was locked inside of the small garden shed near the great willow, and though I desperately wanted to feel the sun on my skin, to get any kind of warmth in this cold empty space, there was nothing I could do but peak through the boards.