All my love to one particular person out there, who suddenly made updating a worth-while activity! And how can I not mention the other people who have added me to their reading lists, fanned me and commented on my baby? I have been jumping with pleasure since yesterday!
And Ashful, we may not get a lot of Andrew in this chapter, but I assure you that the pace picks up dramatically after this post. Hold your horses, my ladies; the ride is about to get a little bumpy!
Warning: This chapter contains some details of intended sexual assault.
CHAPTER 10
That night Rachel was not required in the dining room, much to her relief. Over the next few days, her apprehension regarding the guest seemed to be unfounded. He never made any untoward advances towards her, though he still came to the schoolroom or met the young ladies for evening walks on a daily basis. On such occasions he would devote himself to all of them equally, and his tales about the countries he had visited lately (for he was a great traveler) added a new and interesting dimension to their evening stroll. Rachel could see why his nieces anticipated his visits so much. Slowly but surely, she overcame her distrust and started reacting normally around him.
She was to realize the accuracy of her gut instincts eight days after his arrival at Carillon Hall.
Rachel had had lunch with the sisters, but she remained in the schoolroom after they went to their room for their afternoon nap in order to complete a book she was reading. Balancing herself on the window seat to gain maximum sunlight, she was deeply engrossed when she heard the door opening. Lord Edgerton sauntered into the room, making her spring to her feet with a flustered air. She dredged up an uneasy smile, for something about the man seemed to be wrong today.
Good afternoon, my Lord, the Misses Herringfords are not here at the moment. Should I call them? Or is there something I can do for you?”
He smirked. “That is a wonderful offer, Miss Warren. I’ll take you up on it soon.”
Lord Edgerton walked on leisurely till he was standing directly in front of her, and Rachel’s feelings of disquiet returned with a vengeance on seeing the languid way in which those predator eyes were raking her body. “You seem to have become even lovelier than before,” he breathed, reaching out and trailing a finger down one pale cheek. “The country air appears to suit you better than that of London.”
Rachel flinched involuntarily as his cold finger touched her skin. She definitely didn’t know how to reply, but tried nevertheless. “I thank you for your kind thought, your Lordship. I infinitely prefer the countryside to the city.”
His eyes slid to the charcoal portrait framed above the door. “An exquisite bit of work by Alicia… I believe she was the artist who drew this picture? But when the subject is so tempting,” he added, leaning over her and pinning her to the wall behind with his proximity, “how can one be anything but inspired?”
Rachel looked around desperately, now able to smell the alcohol on Lord Edgerton’s breath. She knew there was no one around at this time in the school wing, and was suddenly conscious of the dangerous position she was in. This inebriated man was not in possession of his senses, and seemed to be stripped of all vestiges of civility. She attempted to inch away from him but, when he refused to budge, Rachel gave up all pretences of normalcy.
“I – I have no idea what you are talking about my Lord,” she faltered, almost terrified by now. “But I ha…have some work to do in my room, so kindly let me by.”
“What is the hurry, my dear?” he smirked down at her. “I have not been able talk properly with you at all, and I want to get better...acquainted with you.”
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.
That lady was just about to leave for her bedroom and seemed to be both curious and irritated at the governess’ presumption to ask for an interview at such a time, but still led the way into her sitting room. Rachel put the matter to her in clear terms. Norma Herringford listened to her in absolute silence till the end, and then she looked at Rachel with her grey eyes – eyes which, Rachel realized with a start, were completely different from and yet very similar to Lord Edgerton’s.
“I am afraid that I cannot accept your story to be true Miss Warren,” she said, to Rachel’s crushing dismay. “You are maligning not only the scion of a reputed family, but also my own cousin, let me remind you.” Before Rachel could defend herself, Mrs. Herringford continued, “However, since you seem to have got some strange notions in your head regarding him and will most probably be hiding out in your room until he departs, I will give you leave to take your annual vacation now and stay with your relatives until you can get your head into your job rather than these morbid fancies. You will get pay for one week, but beyond that you cannot expect any extra compensation for your mythical terrors. It is your good luck that I am willing to hold your job open for you until you return. I can do nothing more for you. Now, I would like to take my rest, so I bid you a good night.”
The words were skeptical and imparted with a sneer. But when Rachel got up to leave, she got a glimpse of Mrs. Herringford’s real feelings in her face; a frozen mask, from which grey eyes blazed out with suppressed emotions. She knows that I am telling the truth, the younger woman realized. It has happened earlier…out of those ‘streams of governesses’ who could never stick around for long, some must surely have shared my troubles. She knows and, as I had had suspected, can’t do anything about it directly due to his status. But she is trying to keep me safe by sending me away.
The realization hit Rachel with a jolt. “She is a good soul after all,” she whispered to the empty hallway in awe.
Xxxxx
The next morning saw her packing her trunk with as much of her belongings as might be required at Lucy’s house. She went into the fateful schoolroom only to tell her distraught scholars that she would be gone for a while because her mother (this portion was said with fingers frantically crossed behind her back) was ill and needed her, before taking leave of her friends on the domestic staff. Rachel put her luggage into the same buggy which had brought her to Carillon Hall all those weeks ago; the only difference being that this time she was accompanied by a footman for security and she dreaded leaving the place, rather than arriving at it.
It was all too well to think that her job will remain safe and the girls would wait till she returned – what if Edgerton did not leave for a long time? What if Mrs. Herringford decided that her children’s education was being neglected? Would she pay any heed to the poor girl waiting desperately to return, or will she appoint some new and more qualified governess in Miss Warren’s absence? Rachel gazed longingly at the house, which had now become a part of her life, till she could no longer see it in the distance.
After a few miles were covered in silence, she heard a hesitant voice from the front. “Miss Warren, are you comfortable back there?”
An involuntary smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. He had never initiated any conversation with her while driving before. “Yes Mr. Fairfax, thank you. Today is a good day for travel.”
“Yes, that’s right.” He seemed to be gathering his courage to say something, an assumption that was proved to be correct a minute later when he drew a quick breath and said in a rush, “Do forgive me for my forwardness, but I simply must tell you how sorry I was on hearing from Rosie about …the reason for your departure. I …we will all miss you, but we understand how necessary it was for you to go…home right now. Please count me as a friend if you are ever in trouble and need any kind of help.”
Rachel understood perfectly that he was speaking about her escape from Edgerton. Though his ambiguous words preserved her dignity by being perfectly applicable for her mother’s reported illness as well, his embarrassment and concern hinted at knowledge of the true state of affairs.
She felt a momentary flare of resentment at Rosie for informing a man about a lady’s dishonor, but it was lost in the emotions that were created by Andrew’s tender and sincere solicitousness. They had left Denbries behind and were fast approaching the coaching inn where she would catch her post-coach, and she realized that only the end of their time together was bringing the reluctant sentences forth from the coachman’s mouth at the risk of being overheard by Hargrove.
She was about to reply when the horse suddenly reared in fright and the buggy was jolted to a halt. A muffled oath cut through the air. Extremely shaken and sensing that something of import must have occurred, Rachel leaned out of the window to ask Andrew about the sudden and disturbing stop.
Someone seemed to be waiting for just such a move on her part. A raised fist descended on her exposed head in a practiced move. It struck her temple so hard that Rachel’s head ricocheted and struck the window frame on the other side. It hurt a lot.
That was all she could register before losing to the blackness enveloping her.
--xx--xx--
AN: So how do you like the sudden twist in the tale? :)