Dangerous Letters

Chapter Thirty-Three

Letter LVIII

March 23, 17--

In the early hours of the morning, Madam L--- arrived to escort me from my room. We went in grim procession, like a funeral march, down the principal staircase and to cellars of this great house that I had never accessed before. The lower part of the estate is hollowed into several intricate cloisters and an awful silence reigns through those subterraneous regions, except now and then for some blasts of wind that shook the doors as we passed, which, grating on rusty hinges, re-echoed through the long labyrinth of darkness. Every murmur was some new terror and I could do nothing but sob bitterly until we reached a more familiar cavern and I was forced up the ladder and into the chapel. It was lit by several candles, brighter this time, almost the same except that the concealed body had been removed and a daunting chair was placed at the centre of the altar. It was high-backed, dark mahogany with thick leather straps attached to both the armrests and lower legs.

"I used to be on death row," said Madam L--- conversationally, as she threw me upon the unyielding seat. I tried to stand but was pushed back down with such force it knocked the breath from my lungs. "I know some of what you are feeling right now. Hanging, it would have been; terrible way to go."

My arms and legs pinned, she stepped back to survey her work with satisfaction. "We have more in common than I thought. she continued, picking up an object. It was a brank; I strained fearfully away from the horrible contraption. "After all, we're both guilty."

Madam L--- affixed the iron muzzle to my head, the bar shoved into my mouth where it bore down upon my poor tongue and silenced my cries completely. "Word of advice, don't mention the state of the young miss to the Master." Petting my cheek, damp from the dirge tears, she left me trussed up and alone on that altar.

I trembled as I waited; my mind conjuring myriad horrors, one after the other, of what violence might have profaned this once sacred place, and what might befall me now. I could only find distraction in thoughts and fears about Villette's apparition. I imagined her, first, at rest – asleep in her final resting place amongst her patrician ancestors. But then, I beheld her rise from her grave at that sad and silent hour. Envisioned her awaking as in the throes of an attack; her beautiful form distorted by dying agonies, blood-swollen veins, livid countenance, eyes bursting from their sockets with pain. Then she broke the bonds of her tomb to glide angrily once more before my blasted eyes. Great God! The curtain only had to gently shake, and I quaked in terror. I could almost see her there, looking down upon me again with the promise of future punishment, menacing me with Heaven's vengeance, taxing me with the crimes that I have committed... The chair creaked and groaned and scraped but did not give way no matter how frantic my struggles.

Presently I heard the sound of footsteps along the passage; the door opened, and the wretch whom I dreaded appeared. He entered with an air of distinct malice and treachery, his movements telegraphing some perilous intent. He did not act as I expected, however; dragging another chair – this one less ornate – to seat himself opposite me. Then he said, in a smothered voice, "you have almost destroyed everything that I held dear. You have proved yourself unworthy of my condescension but even now I have come to reason. Remember that I have power; you believe yourself miserable, but I can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you. You will listen, understand, and realise why you must obey."

"In my youth, I somewhat errantly fell into the company of Duc de B----- and his brother the Bishop of X----. These were illustrious men of immense fortunes who, having already succeeded in all the areas of life that a man might hope to, turned their appetites almost wholly on pleasures particularly debauch. They were already established libertines, familiar with every perversion, by the time I was accepted into their inner circle. For a while, I was enamoured with the ideals that they espoused, of liberty and freedom – you would not appreciate – and felt myself part of a brotherhood of men. They were philanderers, certainly, but also some of the greatest philosophers of our age. I was still party to their exploits when I married my first wife. It a familial arrangement, meant to further two dynastic families, but I found her more tolerable than any woman I had hitherto met. She had an intellect not commonly found in your gender, perhaps because of that superior breeding.