Secrets of the Wind

Chapter 1

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"NO!! STOP!!!" Her deafening screams rang through the house but no one dared help or save her. All of the maids and servants knew if they were to even breathe in her direction they'd find themselves with no job and no food. And of course no one wanted that.

Fiona felt the sting before she heard the slap of her uncle's fat and pudgy fingers connect with the side of her face. She absolutely refused to be silenced by him or let him take advantage of her. Kicking and punching she shot out in the air and tried to connect her limbs as hard as she could to her uncle's body. But he was bigger and stronger.

"Shut up!" His fowl breath reached her nose, suffocating her. His body's disgusting and putrid odor robbed her of her breath. With just his one hand he pressed down on her throat, blocking the air from her lungs as he ripped her dress open. With one last shred of hope she put as much effort as her small and supple body would allow and finally she succeeded. Her right leg connected with her uncle's crotch.

"OWWW! You bitch!" His howl deafened her ears and she closed her eyes from seeing his face as she connected her fist to his nose, effectively moving him off of her and his hitting his head against the edge of the wooden table nearby- knocking him unconscious.

Fiona lay there for all but two seconds before jumping as fast as she could out of the bed and towards her trunk of clothing. She knew this was her only chance at escape and if she were to let this one pass she may never get another chance. Fiona was planning for weeks on end of how she would leave the estate and escape from London to the Americas or anywhere else far away from her uncle's grasps. She simply could not stay in London or anywhere in England as Uncle George was well connected with the peers and no one would believe her or bother with her if she were to expose him as the disgusting pig he really was.

Her blood coursed through her veins as she threw the lid open. Clothes were flying left and right as she took out as much clothing and personal articles as she could. Out of the small dark corner under her bed, Fiona pulled out two small bags and started filling them up. She knew she couldn't take that much clothing and so decided on only three different dresses and two pairs of shoes. Quickly but carefully, she lifted a piece of fabric that held needles and thread in case she needed them. Her toiletries went in next as well as an old set of letters in her mother's handwriting.

Stealthily, Fiona opened the door and tip toed to her brother's room. She made sure to skip and dodge around the sneaky floorboards so as not to alert any of the servants. Not many steps later and she found herself facing the mahogany colored wooden doors. She knew it was locked. He always locked it and was never opened except when he has back for a few days from serving for his majesty the king and keeping our country and waters safe from pirates. Truly she missed him and to her it always seemed as if he never cared enough to even look after his sister's well being.

As much as she was sure she would miss the familiarity of England and both the home and town she had grew up in, deep down she knew she would be safer as far as way from her uncle's clutches as possible. For years she has tolerated his inappropriate innuendos and comments. As long as he hadn't acted upon anything he would say she tried to ignore it the best she could. After all, this was her deceased parent's home and her home. Her brother was the rightful heir and as soon as he would marry and settle down in London, all of their properties would transfer to him. However, seeing as Fredrick was not even in all of England her uncle was temporarily in charge. Much to her chagrin she did not have any say over the matter and unfortunately was assigned under his custody. Aunt Mary had died of some unknown cause three years prior and so Fiona was left all alone in the care of her uncle. As much as she wanted to tell someone, anyone about the dealings of her uncles she knew it would not be in her favor. For he had his own title and was well known amongst the king's inner circle and in London's upper society.

Having done this several times before, Fiona jiggled two of her bobby pins in the lock until she finally heard the deafening click. Stealing a glance behind her to make sure no one was there she creaked open one mahogany colored door and slipped through before closing it shut right behind her and turning the lock back in place. Throwing her small bag on his bed, the cushioned mattress swallowed its thud as she rummaged through his trunk of old clothing. She pulled out two trousers and a couple of his smaller shirts. There was no time to try them on and so she just stuffed them in her bag. She took one of his old pair of shoes and added them to the mix of articles and accessories that filled her bag. She rummaged some more until she came upon an average sized box. Lifting the lid, it contained a small gun already preloaded with a few bullets in a small pouch. Fiona delicately picked it up and stuffed it in her purse. Before returning everything and closing the trunk a small folded handkerchief caught her eye. Unwrapping it, she stared at the jeweled dagger with her family crest on it. She knew it must have belonged to her father and it made it all the more urgent for her to slip it carefully with the handkerchief in her right boot.

Once she was sure everything was safely tucked away Fiona carefully began unlocking her brother's door. But before she fully opened it she heard her uncle's groan and his voice. As quickly as she had unlocked it Fiona locked it again and blew out the only candle in the room so no one from outside could see her.

Holding her breath she counted to ten and placed her ear at the door to see if she could hear anything else. She heard a lot of shuffling at the other side and then someone grabbed the door handles. She dare not move a single hair or let out even half a breath, let alone take one. Her ear was still against the door and the best she could do was move it slightly away. Thankfully she had relocked the doors again or her uncle would have found her and probably have framed her murder on one of the footmen.

The doors rattled again once and twice but whoever it was must have given up and realized that unless Fiona had a key, which was close to impossible as Fredrick was the only person with a key to his room, there was no way that Fiona could have locked herself in her brother's room. As soon as the footsteps at the other end of the door had all but disappeared, Fiona let out the breath she was holding. She was doomed. Now the only thing she could think to do was escape through the window but even then she'd have to wait until her uncle had gone to sleep. One of the footmen would probably walk around the house to make sure all was secure before settling in for the night.

It felt as if hours had passed by as Fiona crouched underneath the windowsill waiting for the light of the candle to pass under Fredrick's room. She knew it had been merely minutes but she was more than eager to escape and get as far away from here as possible. Finally, after several more minutes of restlessly waiting, Fiona saw the glow of a candle as it slowly made its way past the balcony and all of the windows in Fredrick's room. Making sure she was in the clear, she quietly opened the balcony door and slid on her belly to the other end making sure to close the balcony door behind her. She knew that there would be a basket with a sturdy set of ropes in the corner of his balcony. Fredrick used to use the basket to sneak up the stuff he didn't want their parents to find out he had. And of course, more than one night when Fredrick was totally foxed she'd send the ropes down and he'd use them against the east wing's brick walls to climb back up to his room so as not to be seen by anyone. His room always had the perfect cover as it was next to a small forest that contained a secret path he had created. If one were to take this path to its end he would find him or herself at the loading docks. Fredrick had warned Fiona once about the docks and the type of people she would find. He warned of the thiefs and beggers, the loose women, the ignorant and filthy sailors, and people who would sell their souls for a dime or two. Feeling for the dagger in her boot and the gun under her clothes Fiona felt a little less frightened then before.

The cold air whipped at her fingers and face as she undid the knot holding the rope and basket together. Tying it around her waist and securing the other end against the rails of the balcony, Fiona swung her legs over to the other side of the rail and perched her bottom on top of the rail edge. Carefully so as not to suddenly trip over she tightened her hold on her bags and steadied herself before shimmying down the wall towards the ground. It seemed like forever before her feet finally hit the ground. Untying the rope she threw it over the same tree she'd watch Fredrick toss it over, so no burglar would get the wrong idea, and set off in the night guided by nothing but the moon towards the docks, hoping and praying she had not just made the biggest mistake of her life.