Rachel's Story

Chapter 10

He lifted a hand and slowly, deliberately inched it down her jaw and neck until it lay on her trembling shoulder in a caressing yet determined hold. Rachel gasped and, in a moment of blind panic, attempted to break away from that relentless grasp; but this only incited Edgerton to restrain her with both hands. He pulled her with bruising force to his large body and his mouth lowered towards her lips, his intent painfully clear. Rachel was made despairingly aware of their difference in strength as his lips clamped down on her and she could do nothing to prevent it.

This was not how her first kiss was supposed to be! Rachel was on the verge of crying as one of the precious moments of her life was stolen away from her. And yet, she was also aware that the situation was only going to get worse from this point…he was not finished with her by any means. Therefore, the moment he released her from the enforced kiss and she had her mouth to herself, she pushed down her feelings of nausea and started pleading with his better self.

“Please Sir; you are not in your senses now. Let me past, you will regret this later.”

Edgerton threw back his head and laughed loudly. “Regret this?” he spluttered. “I have been waiting for this moment all month! From the time I saw you in that miserable little inn, sitting there all stiff and missish and delicious, I knew that this was going to be a hunt I would enjoy greatly. I had planned to charm you into my arms, little temptress…but today, I simply don’t feel like waiting any longer.”

Anger at his taunting words, which threw her own passivity in her face, enfolded Rachel in its welcome folds. Welcome, because it cleared her mind from the fear clouding it and a year-old memory wafted by…of two older bullies pinning the twins’ arms behind them, and the way in which her intrepid brothers had disabled them without lifting a finger, so to say.

Bracing her right foot, Rachel kicked Edgerton on his velvet-encased shin. Hard. Even with her ineffectual indoor shoes, the element of surprise was on her side and she was able to dislodge his centre of balance (in other words, make him stagger to the side like the drunken rogue he was) long enough to twist out of his grasp and dash towards the door. If his senses had not been dulled with liquor, she may not have made it; as it were, she fled away with his startled curses in her ears and his fingers grasping the air scarce inches away from her tresses. She did not stop running till she had reached her room and bolted the door securely.

Only after that did she allow her brimming tears to flow.

                                                             Xxxxx

That evening was spent by Rachel in her own room with the perfectly honest excuse of a splitting headache brought on during the afternoon. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could feel that man’s touch on her arms, his lips soiling her own. His disgusting breath would wash over her yet again, and ripples of remembered terror roll throughout her body. Pushing back the sobs threatening to break free of her control, she forcibly diverted her thoughts into other directions.

She could not decide what to do. Should she complain to Mr. or Mrs. Herringford? Or should she inform someone like Mrs. Hutchens so that she can warn the maids to be wary of this ogre? Perhaps she should warn the maids herself – at least Rosie, if Sally still persisted in cold-shouldering her. Both of them were relatively new, and might be unaware of his brutish proclivities. Instinct told her that her employers would either not believe her, or would be helpless in the face of Edgerton’s elevated rank. But she was no longer safe in the house; he had as good as told her that he was going to hunt her down someday if she stayed here right now.

By the time darkness had fallen on the lawns outside, Rachel had reached her decision. When Rosie came to inquire if she would prefer to have her meal in her room or would like to come to the kitchen table, Rachel made her sit down and listen to the whole tale. Over the days they had become good friends, and Rosie had her complete trust as a level-headed and sympathetic person. The shocked distress in her voice when she stammered her condolences showed clearly that she believed Miss Warren. Rachel asked her to remain on her guard with Edgerton around, and went down with her to meet Mrs. Herringford after dinner.