I stood on the towel as it soaked up my mess, assessing my reflection. No amount of washing would ever clean me of his mark. It was there in the hollows under my eyes, and the pallor of my skin. It was there in the haunted look, setting in for the duration. Bruises bloomed on each side of my face. They would fade. His mark of violation would not. Turning away, I dressed in clean drawers and a nightgown. I grimaced at the touch of fabric against my sensitive thighs. Hobbling to the door, I opened it.
Sitting on the floor beside the entry, Marybeth had her hands clasped in her lap as she cried. “I could not stop him, miss. I tried.”
“Shh. Do not cry. Did he hurt you?”
She rubbed at her arm, a hand print clearly visible and turning a dark shade of blue.
Repugnant beast of a man.
“He has passed out from the drink. Let us go until he wakes.”
“But, miss, your wedding dress—”
“Let him wear it. Come now.”
We rounded the corner, reaching the top of the staircase.
My father was approaching from the opposite direction, candlelight flickering over his scowl. “What is going on? Why are you out of bed?”
Marybeth and I turned to each other. I drew in a breath, squaring my shoulders. “The earl is currently asleep in my bed. He felt the need toforce himself upon me prior to making me his wife.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“See it with your own eyes if you do not believe me. Witness the blood on the bed and in the washbowl. See the bruises on my face and wrists. That is the doing of the man you have chosen for me.”
I could not contain my disdain. How could the man forsake his own child? Given the opportunity to atone for his sins and remedy the injustice, would he take it?
With a fierce expression, Father hurried to the room while Marybeth and I huddled on the landing.
“What have you done?” His voice roared through the deserted corridors, chasing away my terrors.
Was it possible that my father had not known of the earl’s penchant for brutality? Had he simply been blinded by the lure of a business merger and glossed over the grimmer details of the man’s character? My mother had known. Perhaps Father had been ignorant. If so, he had failed in his duty to protect his daughter from such fiends. Though he certainly made up for it now. The sounds of him delivering a beating and the earl begging for mercy spread like cracks along the walls.
“Come.” I took my friend by the shoulders and urged her down the stairs. “I cannot bear witness to any more barbarity tonight.”
And in the morn, I would remain unwedded. Hell would freeze over before I would ever let that man call me his wife.
_____
Sebastian
En route
13th of December, 1867
After two months in the wretched conditions of prison, life aboard the Hougoumont seemed almost bearable. The vile stench below deck played havoc with my stomach, but the moments above deck when the sea breeze flushed my lungs provided a brief reprieve. I made sure to pause from my chores every now and then to take in the sway of the sails. The ship had three tall masts with six rectangular sails on each, and several more triangular canvases at the bow and stern, and between masts. The power of the wind drove us east across the Indian Ocean, bound for the penal colony in Western Australia.
As far away from Emmeline as they could possibly send me.
My future stretched out before me, as bleak and unfathomable as the endless sea.
I’d imagined jumping overboard almost every day, just to see how deep the ocean went. How far would I have to go to find a resting place to keep me from living a life without her in some godforsaken primitive land.
The last glimpse of my father, moments before our failed escape, had revealed a mask of shock and disappointment. I hoped my actions had not cost him his position, but I feared Emmeline’s father would have had no choice but to release him from his duties given his association to me. There was no way of me knowing Emmeline’s fate. Wondering what happened to her twisted my stomach one hundred times more than the roughest seas ever could.
Had she been killed for her defiance, her betrayal?
In truth, our only crime had been falling in love.
It was a cruel fate that had put us across each other’s paths.
The chance presented to us, a barbarous ruse.
Ben
Brisbane, Australia
1st of January, 2017
Searching through the baby bag for the third time, I made sure Sebastian had everything he needed. Today I was taking him home.
Just me and my boy.
Happy fucking New Year.
My throat burned with trapped anger. Ah, fuck. Pull your shit together. I scrubbed a hand across my cheeks, the feel of my full beard foreign under my palm. The last time I’d grown a beard was the last time I’d lost her.
I’d vowed never to do anything to lose her again.
I hadn’t counted on pregnancy being our greatest threat.
Stuffing the bag in the basket underneath the pram, I checked the straps holding a sleeping Sebastian in place. He loved to wriggle. And he was so tiny, the straps didn’t sit over his shoulders, landing somewhere in the vicinity of an inch above his head instead. As long as he lay flat, we were okay. I scanned the room giving it a final farewell, and hoping I hadn’t left anything behind.
But I was leaving something behind.
My wife.
I could close the door to this room. There was no closing the door on this chapter of my life until she
