"Do you know the woman?" Drake read Rhoda's expression of consternation, as recognition of the woman's photograph appearing on the screen.
"Of her, but not personally. Patch me through to inspector Brinchly. Then get the station master at Houden. Ask him to delay the train outside the station, that he can contact Brinchly if he needs confirmation of the request. There is ten minutes needed to get someone there from Houden's police station." She instructed him gravely, then asked Miles to tap in some more code numbers; and a plan of the station came up on the screen alongside the speeding train; before picking up the mobile at a nod from Drake, the connection ringing through.
"Inspector Brinchly, please, I'm Rhoda Roche and it is urgent that I speak with him as soon as possible." Rhoda spoke urgently in faultless French, listening to the background noises behind the person who had answered, then heard the inspectors voice and gave a relieved sigh. "He is with you." She interrupted the woman answering her call. "Give him my name. He will speak to me himself!" She insisted sternly, the woman dithering and wanting a message, saying the inspector was in a conference. "This minute, sil vous plait!" Rhoda said sharply, and she swore aggressively, shaking the mobile in her fury.
She heard her friends voice though, when he finally came to the telephone and he was laughing. "My poor secretary is heading for the washroom in tears, young lady. What can I do for you? More trouble with that Prince of yours?" He chuckled, causing Rhoda to look at Hassan and grimace.
"No, not this time. Can you keep a train just outside Houden station for me for ten minutes? There's a mother and two children running away from a man in a grey jaguar, name of Pierre Cantella. He claims to be her brother-in-law and the brother died last month. I think the woman is on her way here, a former friend of Lord Dreux, so I need time to tidy up here and get the full story off the brother-in-law. Can you get me ten minutes, at least. You may have to insist on bringing her here if I am wrong about her destination. Lord Dreux would want to help her." She explained her reason to trouble him, then listened and smiled, relieved. "Oh, thank you! You are so kind. Remember me to Lisette. Ten minutes, thank you." She put her hand up to Drake, her fingers forming a circle, then she said goodbye and put the mobile down, turning to give Miles more code numbers.
"Watch the station and follow the woman who looks like that photograph. Print in, the corresponding map reference and the satellite will follow her. The numbers are on the map," Rhoda indicated the section of screen which showed the map, alongside that of the train and the section covering the station plan itself, assuring him that a beep would show the route the woman would take, if she left the train.
Watching for a few precious seconds to be sure he could keep up with the woman while moving on the trains same course, Rhoda then turned to Hassan and asked him to follow her, moving agilely across the room as she spoke, glad she had dressed first before leaving Julian's room, not having to worry about a trailing housecoat, having hastily dressed into the jeans and sweater she had travelled down in, on hearing the speeding car.
Stealthily, not wanting to wake Julian, Rhoda eased her bedroom door open and with Hassan's help, fetched out her spare clothes from the wardrobe and her toiletries from the en-suite bathroom and taking them carefully, a few at a time, slowly and quietly, cleared the bedroom of all trace of her having been there, putting everything into the room next to Hassan's luxurious guest suite, set aside for him to change in and sleep in when someone took over his duties. Her new room was luxurious, but not as tidy, just having dumped her clothes and toiletries on the lace-ruffled four poster bed and her few electrical items onto her small vanity unit.
"Why have you gone to all this trouble?" Hassan asked her, as they sped back towards the tower.
"It needs to be done. Julian would have to ask me to move and be embarrassed, so I am saving him that. That is all I can tell you, without breaking his confidence." She gave him a brief explanation, quickening her steps, as they crossed the inner covered courtyard and headed back to the radio room.
"Lets hope he appreciates it; your deference." He qualified his sarcasm, opening the tower room door for her.
"He will. Can you use a computer?" Her mind was again on the problem at hand and his sarcasm had irritated her.
"Yes. I can help?" He closed the gap between them quickly on closing the door, one step behind her going up the stone steps, her jean clad bottom swaying with each step and made him grit his teeth to stop his growl from escaping.
"Take over from Drake, please. I'll tell you the codes to key in. What is the situation, Drake?" Rhoda moved to the frowning man's side and looked at the screens.
"The train driver is aware of the situation and is keeping steam up at a short distance away, though he can't do it for long, because of the through train about to arrive at ten past four. He's near a siding, so he's going to be safe enough, but the lever has to be pulled over manually, because the siding is a disused one, hopefully he will find it in working order and be off the track in ti..!" .He gasped an expletive and then. "If we need to wait that long. Look! She's not going to wait!" Drake became excited, seeing the woman and two children descend from one of the back carriages and run towards a fenced field.
"Go and fetch her in, on foot. Tell her Lord Dreux sent you and that the man chasing her is being interviewed. I will cope this end. Speed is essential." Rhoda took charge again and let Hassan take the seat Drake had vacated.
Rhoda gave Hassan the code number to patch her into the train drivers telephone, then picked up the mobile, telling the driver to go, that the lady was safe and that he could go into the station without worrying. That he had fifteen minutes to get there before the through train would go through on its normal track. She thanked him for his trouble and assured him he wouldn't get into trouble for being late, then cut the connection, watching the screen as she put the mobile back on its rest.
The train slowly edged forward and gathered speed, the screen splitting again when Rhoda gave Hassan a code number to key in, the woman and children being followed on his monitor with the through train being pictured and also its expected time of arrival being displayed and calculated on the on-screen clock. "Do you want me to follow it through the station?" He asked her.
"Yes, please. Just to make sure." Rhoda picked up the mobile again and used the dials to call the police inspector, apologising to his secretary, when she answered, for having shouted at her, and was put through to Inspector Brinchly straight away.
Rhoda explained the changed situation to him and thanked him for his help, promising him tickets for his wife to go to her next fashion show, then made a follow on call to a friend at the Re'seau Express regional office and explained what she had done with their four-am train to Houden and why, praising the driver and his initial reaction not to take any notice of her without back up from the police. Making sure he would be commended for his action rather than in trouble for it. Her friend assured her he would fix it and they said goodbye, leaving Rhoda free to watch the screens without having to worry about the driver, ever conscious of her jiggling nerves at Hassan's close proximity.
The trains crossed each other safely at the the multi-track station, five minutes after the first one arrived there, and Rhoda gave a low cheer, letting Miles and Hassan take the satellite trace off them and to concentrate on the grey jaguar; almost at the moat; and the woman with her children, crossing the dark field towards the chateau, a jogging figure almost abreast of them in the next meadow, where the dairy cows were resting.
"Have you got infrared lenses on the satellite?" Miles asked, watching the meeting between Drake and the woman, who grasped the children to her, obviously afraid and mistrustful of the man who had appeared out of no-where.
"Yes. Hit the red button, Hassan, on the monitor." Rhoda instructed, then they could hear the woman and Drake talking; she, asking what he was doing there; and he, telling her who had sent him and how the Duke had recognised her description from the guard who had phoned him thinking her a trespasser. That he had been sent to escort her to the chateau and to make sure she and the children were safe. Also that the man she had been fleeing from was being interviewed and not a threat to her.
"She has taken it in." Rhoda said and told Hassan he could switch the monitor and sound off, advising Miles to switch it back on if he saw any of the four pulse-indicators give a constant flash. "That says they want you to look and listen and they may need back up standing by. Did Drake tell you the drill?" She asked him gravely.
"Sure did. You needn't worry, my dear. I have a good memory so I learn fast." He assured her with a smile.
"Right! Then I can go and sort out this domestic problem and send Drake back as soon as possible. It's good to have you on the team, Miles." Rhoda patted his shoulder as she passed his seat, then gave Hassan a look and tilted her head towards the door. "Come on. We have to fill Julian in on what has happened and make sure Pierre isn't lying to us. We'll leave Ursula Cantella to Julian. He will want to settle her in himself." She admitted ruefully.
"Jealous?" Hassan followed her out and down the stairs, having to stop in his tracks as Rhoda swung round on him and almost hit him. How she stopped herself, she wasn't sure, but relief flooded her, considering the penalty of failing to help Hassan atone for his mistakes. She couldn't bear the thought of marriage, not again, and certainly not to him!
She spun on her heel and continued along the passage to the master bedroom where Julian still slept soundly, waking him gently with a firm hand on his arm. "Julian, you are needed downstairs." She said softly, watching him shake off the sleep that still clouded his mind. "Ursula is here. She is in some kind of a panic over her brother-in-law looking like her late husband. She may think him a ghost." She told him, then went on to explain the whole incident, fetching his clothes and helping him to dress as she did so, and even telling him of her having cleared his room of her own things to save Ursula some embarrassment.
"I know how I would feel in her situation. It will be bad enough knowing she has been a bit hasty in reacting as she did, once she realises the truth about Pierre. She did marry Philip Cantella, didn't she, not Pierre?" She held his laces out until they were both level, then fastened them. " I can't quite remember." She questioned his memory.
"Philip, yes. She never mentioned a brother. She only wrote the once after her marriage. We didn't think it right to correspond. How does she look, Rhoda? Has she aged at all? I know I have and I look ghastly!" He checked his tie in the mirrored wardrobe. "God help me, I'm still so weak!" He groaned, turning to her for reassurance.
"You look fine, darling. Much, much better than on my first visit. Now, go and see that your friend is reassured and make sure you remember that you sent Drake after her. I will take care of Pierre and put him in a room somewhere. I was very pleased with his driving. You can put Ursula in your Mother's room, next door. It will be familiar to her and her children can go into the nursery with Rene and Josette. I will make their beds ready for them." She was slowly moving him out of the room and Hassan opened the door for them.
"Merci, Rhoda. You are wonderful." He bowed and lifted her hand to his lips, then hurried away, tall and straight now, bouncing back to his former self-assured self.
"Good. Now I can whiz through the bedrooms and get them ready, while you go and fetch Pierre. Bring him to the nursery. Yes, that will be best. Well, go on, there's no time to dawdle, Hassan." She said as he hesitated. "He's in the hall, the first room at the bottom of those stairs." She informed him, pointing.
"No instructions what to say to him?" Hassan asked grimly, disliking her tone and being ordered about.
"Yes. 'Hello, I am so and so, then ask him to follow you." Rhoda snapped, then sighed. "The nursery is in the East wing and at the top of the duplicate tower to this one. If you have trouble finding it, give me a call. I will hear you and direct you." She moved away and began to mutter to herself, cursing her luck to be saddled with the task of his re-education and transformation into a human being.
Starting with Ursula's bed, Rhoda found bedding from a linen cupboard on the servants landing; sheets which were dry and redolent with lavender, and there were some modern hot water bottles on a shelf too. She took three and filled them from the hot tap in the en-suite bathroom having let the water run for a while then, being careful she didn't scald herself, she had run the water into them. Leaving one in Ursula's's bed wrapped in one of her own nighties, Rhoda took the other two bottles to the nursery into a room next to Josettes and placed them on two matresses before going to look for bed-linen and quilts for them, not wanting to disturb the twins or their nanny.
Hassan found her smoothing the covers on the last two beds; Rhoda straightening up to greet him and Pierre behind him, as they entered the room; Hassan automatically introducing Pierre and then resumed his former silence, moving to stand with his back to the door, his scarred face disclosing his anger in a fierce grimmace.
"I am in your debt, Madame Roche." Pierre offered her his hand, dropping it to his side as she ignored it and didn't return his smile. "Your man here, tells me you are only visiting the chateau and don't live here at all. I am one of your greatest fans and I wish to thank you for saving my life. I had no idea there was a crossing ahead." He told her, unperturbed by her silence.
"Your skill, saved your life, monsieur. I am very sure you know that yourself. However, first your identity needs to be cleared up. You are Pierre Cantella, of Marne Le Vallee, where the Euro Disney Resort is situated and you run a garage, right?" Rhoda listened to the information which Miles was reading off the screen at a prompt from Drake.
"I own it. The engines I rebuild redesign. The cars are redesigned and rebuilt, It is a pleasure to meet you , Madame Roche. Ask whatever you like." Pierre stated, going along with her inquisition.
"You have no wife or children, no parents. You live with a woman, Francine Metz. A waitress in the cafe opposite your garage. You race cars as a hobby and are champion of your class locally. You also race boats on the Marne and have your own small yacht. You have only ten years history in Marne le Vallee. Why?" She asked him. "Did you actually grow up in Versailles, near Houden? Where Ursula lived before she ran away with your brother, Philip?"
"So far so good." Pierre applauded her knowledge, his smile having turned towards Hassan. "Now I understand why you want to kidnap her, monsieur. She is not a disappointment to her photographs, in the flesh." He shook his fingers as if burnt, but took a slight step back as he saw Hassan's expression and caught the low growl that told him to back off.
"Answer my questions please. We can swap pleasantries afterwards. I need to know if you are genuine. I need to know why you waited a month before going to see your late brothers widow, who had no previous knowledge of you." Rhoda stated.
"We had parents who split up and each of them had custody of one of us. We are... were twins. I was brought up in Paris itself, in a hotel, where my mother was a maid. We had a little back room in the attic. She was beautiful and the owner waited for her divorce to be finalised, then married her. I kept the room, she moved to the house next door. I was seven, happy with the situation. He had a car and I cleaned it every Sunday morning after church. I learned its secrets under the bonnet, then learned to drive it around the hotel grounds. I grew up, they died, I sold the hotel and bought the garage at Marne. Last week I went on holiday and saw your show. I stayed in a hotel where they used old newspapers to line drawers and cupboards. I saw my name in one and read its caption, finding out it was three weeks old and my twin had died three days before-hand. I made some enquiries and went home to make sure my garage was running smoothly, then went to Versailles. You know the rest." Pierre explained in detail.
"What was the name of your hotel?" Rhoda persisted.
"The old Condor, where the new Condor stands, near the Gare Du Nord. It is bigger and better and doesn't have a little room in the attic."
"Merci monsieur. Now I can get your history, without which you could be any man-jack or hoodlum in the country and without which you wouldn't get offered a job in any of my organisations. Drivers are a bread apart. The good ones anyway. Would you be interested in working on a formula one Roche special; it's new and untried and fast?" Rhoda's head tilted up as she straightened her back.
"Who is building it?"
"It is built and about to go for its first trial run at Castle Craig next month. A wee little town in the Scottish Highlands in the UK and where the press won't find it until we have some good results. I am looking for some drivers, of your standard." Rhoda smiled, pausing to listen to Drake. "Your identity has been established. I will give you my business phone number and you can think about my offer. Now, though, Ursula has spilled her heart out to Lord Dreux and the children are falling asleep, so lets go and get them settled into these warm beds." She headed for the door and Hassan opened it for her, following her out and preventing Pierre from getting in front of him, as they sped down the stairs.
"I guess you are right to be wary of strangers, but you sure know how to make enemies. I own my own garage, Madame. It isn't a fuel station. It is an auto repair and sales garage. I deal in all types of cars and sell to all buying markets all over the world. I can make my own engines and formula one specials" Pierre scoffed, reaching the bottom of the stairs as Rhoda crossed the huge hall towards the sitting room; the chandelier sparkling light over them; and followed her.
"In a back alley at De Lyle's place. I know, mes Ami." She admitted the knowledge. "That is why you went to see Ursula, to see if any of your father's money was left. I believe he left his money to your twin, who lived with him after your parents split up. I do know your history now, so you don't have to explain." She looked up at him as he caught her up, avoiding his hand moving to her arm. "You are afraid that the new land development behind De Lyle's, will cause you to move your work shop?" She questioned him, leading him to the doors of the sitting room; taking his grimace as his reply. "You can rest assured that the owner will want you to develop the engine and build more, before the new race track opens in four years time."
"A race track?!" Pierre halted in his tracks.
"That is all I can tell you at the moment. You will have to trust me and accept my help as a friend or sponsor. You can have all the financial backing you need, the pick of the best components and the use of the best technicians, if you are sure your engine will pass all the safety regulations and you will drive it." Rhoda assured him, her hands on the door handles; not waiting for his reply; before going through it to be greeted by Julian and introduced to Ursula Cantella, a very dear friend of his family.
The woman was small and petite, the type who needed great care from the man in her life and she was very pretty, despite being dishevelled after her fright and flight to the only person she knew would help her. She had a sweet smile for Rhoda and Hassan, but looked warily at Pierre and moved closer to Julian as they moved across the room, his arm automatically moving to her waist, protectively.
"You need not fear me, Madame. I mean you no harm. I had only recently read of my twins death and needed to see you to know... the details." Pierre offered Ursula his hand as he spoke gently in French, still reeling from the offer Rhoda had set before him, the answer to his dreams.
"I had not seen my twin for twenty years, so I didn't know him as a person, but I feel he was like me and that is why you were afraid. I am sorry for causing you such concern and I regret not having looked for my twin many years ago. We could have been friends." He lifted her hand to his lips and in the age old salute and his kiss was rewarded with a smile. "If you will permit it, Madame Roche and I will take the children to bed? She has kindly made them up some beds in the nursery, where Lord Dreux's own children are asleep." He suggested.
"You must come yourself, to see that they settle. Then your mind will be at rest and you will be able to sleep too." Rhoda was quick to assure Ursula, seeing her agitation and understanding its cause. "Children prefer their mother to tuck them up. The children of my family are all the same."
"Thank you, you are so kind, Madame. Julian has told me how you have saved him from starvation and nursed him back to health. I am so grateful! I couldn't have borne it if I had arrived to find him dying! It would have devastated me." Ursula admitted, almost in tears at the thought of it and quick to take comfort from Julian.
"Please call me Rhoda, and consider yourself safe here. I have made your room ready for you and arrangements will be made for your luggage to follow you, so you can rest and recover from your ordeal, without worrying. If you have any problems, they can be sorted out from here." Rhoda smiled, the two children moving from the settee to stand beside their mother, their hands linked and their eyes red from rubbing them. "Such tired little people." She stooped to their level and scooped them up, sitting one on each hip, as she had manytimes with Sheikh Beb Ali's children, their heads soon snuggling against her knitted jumper.
* * *
Half an hour later, the children and Ursula were tucked up in bed and Rhoda was able to return to Julian; in the hallway outside his room, where he had waited with Hassan; for her to come from Ursula's which adjoined his. She noticed how tired he looked, but he was still excited too and hugged her as she closed Ursula's door.
"She still loves me, Rhoda, after all this time!" He swung her off her feet, finding strength he had not had earlier.
"I am glad, Mon Cher. You deserve to be loved. She will make you a good wife now and the past will be forgotten. I will be able to leave you with a clear conscience and not worry about you." Rhoda steadied them both, laughing up into his smiling face. Her ears caught the soft growl Hassan emitted at their embrace and she untangled herself from Julian with a reassuring smile.
"I hadn't thought that far ahead, but yes. since you can't marry me, I will honour my parents arrangement for me. I will search for Ursula's parents and set the whole thing straight for her too, then get their consent. Will you marry Ben Ali's choice when you are twenty-one?" He asked her gravely; having become serious once more, walking her towards her room along the next hallway, unaware of her inner turmoil his question had caused her, or the faster rate it had made Hassan's hear-beat become.
"I must. It is his law. He has already warned me of it." She admitted. "He has my welfare at heart, though, so he won't choose someone outrageous." She laughed softly. knowing he needed to feel reassured of her welfare. "If he chooses someone for me, as nice as Ursula is for you, I will be happy too." She rose up and kissed him. "I give you into her keeping and she into yours, Mon Ami. Be happy." She turned into his arms giving him a hug, ignoring Hassan's glare as their eyes met over Julian's shoulder.
Hassan opened the door for her and Julian gave her one more final hug; then left her to return to his own room; his step firmer and his back straighter. He didn't need her anymore and she was glad for his sake, sorry for her own, her tears falling unchecked as she made a dash for the bathroom and got herself ready for bed.
Wrapped in an oversize fluffy bath-robe, she emerged to find Hassan setting up the laptop, which had been moved into his room; her ploy to keep him occupied during the night, necessary now she would have to sleep alone. If she had to have him outside her door overnight, without someone holding her whom she trusted, she would never be able to sleep. As it was, she felt tense and afraid of him, afraid too of the fear causing her to have nightmares again and of sleep walking, which could put his life in danger.
"When are you twenty-one?" Hassan's voice jolted her back from her concentrated thoughts, her fingers pausing above the keyboard.
"Why do you ask?" She prevaricated, watching the screen come to life.
"I thought you were married to Ben Ali. I didn't consider you free to sleep around. Even though he lets you." Hassan growled, still obviously angry about something.
"I have his protection. To all intents and purposes I am his bonds woman, to aid his sheikha's, though he has always treated me more like a daughter, not a servant. He has always made it clear since my first marriage failed, that he would choose my next husband. Until the agreed time, I must remain under his guardianship and have to put up with his limitations and conditions around me. I have to be polite to you too, you see." She grimaced at him, then reached for some tissues on his chest of drawers and gave her eyes and nose a wipe, her anger having pushed aside her sadness.
"If I were Ben Ali, I would keep you working in the kitchens at Alif and make sure you knew who was your master!" Hassan folded his arms and stood back, as though he were afraid he would hit her and ruin his chance to atone to his father. "You shot my best friend!" He growled at her, his dark eyes piercing her grey ones. "He deserved it, for taking you from me! But what you are doing here, leading these people on to believe you can help them at the flick of switches, you deserve to be horse-whipped! I'm sure Ben Ali doesn't know of your tricks!"
Rhoda stared at Hassan's angry visage, her mind screaming with memories of her first meeting with Roche. She had been hiding from Hassan at his first visit to Sidi Ben 's castle on his inauguration visit, when he would be crowned in Miskah the following week as Crown Prince, heir to the throne of Miskah.
She had been behind a huge ceramic vase at the end of one of the galleries above the Grand Ballroom, when Hassan had brought Rupert Roche into the massive room, having been permitted to show him around the castle.
Rhoda recalled how she had peeped out through the intricately carved rails and met the deep blue gaze of Roche and his wide eyed face had broken into a beaming smile, seeing it transform his olive good looks into a very handsome young man; he and Hassan having reached their eighteenth birthday that week; only one day between them.
Having ducked back behind the vase she had shivered as if a cold breeze had permeated the vast corridors, but she had shrugged it off and wrapped her abaya around her more closely, then saw Abdul giving her the hand gesture to come to him quickly, her smile as instant as her obedience to this son of her protector.
Within a week, Roche had constantly sought her company on walks around the grounds of the castle, of visits to Alif's City and the souk, talking to her via sign language. Flattering her and buying her small gifts, making her laugh and fall in love with him, even dancing with her on her gallery hiding-place by the ceramic vase, during a celebratory ball a week after the inauguration; her designs having clothed Ben ali's wives.
When Roche was due to return to England, he asked Rhoda to take him to see Ben Ali and he had asked for her hand in marriage. Despite Sidi Ben's arguments Rhoda had persisted in keeping contact after Roche left with Hassan to go back to university, and he wrote constantly to Rhoda and persuaded her to plead with Ben Ali for the marriage to take place on his return.
Besotted as she was she had begged and pleaded with Sidi Ben and at last he had relented. The date was given out in the invitations and the week before Hassan and Roche were to come home, Rhoda found herself surrounded in the souk by dark robed men, who whisked her away beneath their cloaks and she had known instantly it was Hassan. Her kicking and screaming had alerted the market traders to her plight and puting her marshal art's training to good use, she and they had beaten off the three men, getting her free and back to the castle in good haste.
Rhoda recalled being grounded, not able to leave the castle for the duration of waiting for her marriage, but on the day; as she was escorted to the chapel in the beautiful landscaped grounds decked out with streamers of flowers on poles either side of the chapels entrance, three dark-robed figures again attempted to carry her off, this time on horseback.
Rhoda again had sensed it was Hassan, despite their masked faces. Her screams and the people around her who had shouted; alerting the guards even as Sid Ben; who had been escorting her; had drawn his dagger and slashed at her captor. Sidi Ben's dagger slicing at the mans face; but swift though it was; her captor had escaped the blade and rode off without her.
The marriage had taken place and Roche became her husband. He had conned everyone and her into believing he loved her. Soon after their leaving to go on an elongated honeymoon, Roche had taken her to her father, Leon Marcus Dinnon; whom she had never known of, though she had heard tales of Leon Marcus Dinnon; known as the Lion of Al Jabayl; a small island off the Persian Gulf; a legend in his own life time as being a modern day pirate of the unwary travellers on his fleet of cruise ships; Roche demanding the half-a-million English pounds reward for her capture.
Leon had scoffed at him and told him he knew nothing of a reward, telling his bodyguards to throw her in the dungeon, and Roche with her if he made a fuss. The incident had shocked her so much she had been unable to stop shivering in fear and pain at her husband's betrayal; having read their lips and understanding what had passed between them; then recalled her terror at being locked in the dank, spider-web encrusted dungeon, causing her to faint and drop to the cold floor as she watched the heavy door crash across the metal frame and she was alone, the darkness closing in around her and within her head too.
She could have lain on the floor a long time; or mere seconds; when she felt hands drag her to her feet and haul her across the room onto a single metal framed bed. She was too numb with cold and dazedly disorientated, to feel anything; and only became aware she was lying on a bed; when a hand slashed across her cheek, the stinging pain reviving her enough to notice the man who stood before her was her enraged husband, his dark vision surrounded by light from a small bulb hanging from the ceiling; now glowing bright behind him.
She had blinked her tears back, trying to sit up, but her hands were held fast to the bed, manacles around each bed post attached to her wrists and ankles. He had called her every vile name he could think of to insult her and not satisfied with that, he had torn her dress up the side seams; her beautiful lemon and white flowered caftan she had designed herself and sewn lovingly for the going away outfit she had needed, with a matching cloak that was flung across the metal foot-rail, her body shuddering on the cold hard mattress.
Roche had hit her again when she had screamed after he tore her panties from her; ripping them away; and she had kicked him, enraging him even more. He had manacled her ankles then and climbed onto the bed; vilifying her with more harsh gestured insults, telling her she was worthless and he hated her for being white trash and useless to him. When his hands disappeared he was freeing his belt from his trousers and then undoing them, showing her his hard erection before thrusting into her violently, viciously tearing her bra from her breasts and then biting her flesh.
"Tell me where your father's wallet is." She recalled his mouthed words as he had looked into her eyes, his filled with frenzied passion, his face leeched of colour. He had repeated the demand as each thrust made her cry out in agony, again and again she shook her head as she cried out her pain, thankfully feeling the same dark oblivion wash over her, as when she had fainted.
She had come to, alone, the dungeon dark and cold. Her body ached and was numb at her hands and feet, the manacles cutting into her flesh. Her legs were bare, but she had the top piece of her dress covering her top half and was pooled between her thighs as though flung down in disgust. It didn't offer much warmth, but would protect her modesty, if anyone came to her. As her father did; recalling the visit; by then delirious with hunger and pain. He had asked her questions too about his wallet and though he hadn't hit her she had told him she hadn't seen any wallet of his, too dazed to comprehend the next words he mouthed at her as the blackness had once again taken over.
Her memories were foggy after that, more lucid moments had found her in a bedroom, luxurious and warm, but her mind had been dimmed to only think of her next injection, clamouring for the drug that would put her back into oblivion. She recalled dancing with Roche, but couldn't define if it was from her wedding or some other time, all she had left in her head was the image of her husband with a gun, pushing it into her hand before grasping her around the throat. It was her last image of him, before being whisked away by Rupert junior and a doctor, forcing her into a car. Rupert, Roche's cousin, whom she had little recollection of other than his name and his face.
Another face swam before her eyes, dark and scarred, frowning down at her, worried if his eyes were anything to go by. Then she recalled his accusations and saw they were in his sitting room, her mind slowly recovering from her past horrors, a memory of cooking and another fleeting one of cleaning a kitchen returning to haunt her. Roche had used her and abused her whenever and wherever his lust had arisen, uncaring of her drugged state, preferring to keep her that way.
continued on chapter ten