The Scent Of Roses

Chapter Nine- London, England: 1586

London,

England, 1586

I looked down at my grubby hands. I had turned into the very person I would have turned my nose up to five years ago. It didn’t matter though; you blended in better if you were dressed in rags, especially if you were close to the docks. No one paid attention to some urchin on the side streets.

Which made it easy trying to get money. Why would I need to steal for money? No one would hire someone like me. Besides the basic needs I was working towards a voyage to the New World.

In my right hand I held a silver pocket watch and some coins. I squinted in the dark; I didn’t want to be around when the round old man realized he had had his pockets picked. I almost laughed as I imagined what his wrinkled face would look like scrunched up in bewilderment.

I clenched my hand into a fist and shoved my fist into my shirt pocket. I had saved up almost enough for a trip.

“Well, hello, love,” I heard a deep voice greet me from the entrance of the alleyway. I froze; please don’t let it be the constable. Why did the voice sound familiar? I had heard the constable’s voice only a handful if times. He had a old scratchy voice overpowered with an Irish accent. This voice though was young and each word seemed to flow well with one another, you could tell that the owner was born here in England alongside the aristocrats. 

I turned around, ready to run if it was a member of authority. Pale smiling face greeted me; chocolate brown hair fell over his left eye.

“You know, it wasn’t long ago when I was in your same position,” Charles informed me taking a step forward.

I took a slow step backwards, going deeper into the alley “Do you remember me?” I asked hesitantly.

“How could I forget, my sweet Isabelle,” he chuckled, mocking me, “Oh, so fragile, such an innocent girl, she was.”

“Be quiet!” I snapped, my hands clutched behind my back.

He took a quick step forward, wrapping me in his arms. I lost my breath just as I had before I had died. No, Isabelle, I mentally scowled myself.

“Oh, feels just like before, doesn’t it?” Charles softly questioned me, swaying us both. I grimaced, but then found myself closing my eyes and nodding my head. I snapped my eyes, open angry with myself. I let him control me so easily. When you drink from a human afterwards you are able to control them or make them think thoughts they wouldn’t have before you drank from them.

“Please, stop,” I pleaded, looking up at his green eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbled, “So tell me how you plan on getting to the New World?”

“How did you know about that?” I questioned, alarmed.

“Did you not expect me to an eye on my favorite,” Charles asked, laughing.

I tried to get away from him, but he only wrapped his arms around me tighter. I stopped struggling and he released his grip on me.

“What would you say if I told you I could take you to the New World?” he asked me.

“What? How could you do that and why would you do it?” I found myself questioning.

“My dear, you seem to forget I have quite the investments and like I said before you are my favorite,” he explained.

“If I agree to come with you do you agree to not taunt me the rest of my life?” I asked looking him in the eyes.

“Taunt you, of course not. Come check on you over the years? Of course,” he agreed.

I would rather have him in my life than be here in London. While I was in London I would always be reminded of times I shared with my family and friends. The New World was my only escape and I was going to take it.

“Well then, lets get you home. We have to make you look presentable,” he said taking my arm and leading me out of the alley.