Chapter 29
The oppressive heat had finally relented, signaling that summer was drawing to a close. We abandoned the desk, paper, quill, and ink, opting instead for the comfort of the floor. Well, I was seated properly while Benjamin and Jim lay sprawled on their stomachs, propped up on their elbows. The carpet beneath us was soft.
"Isn't this nice?" Benjamin beamed, utterly pleased with himself.
"It was you who insisted we relocate here," I reminded him as I adjusted my sorry excuse of a left leg.
"Well, I thought you needed a rest! If we sit here, you will not have to strain your leg, Mrs. Woodstone!"
My heart softened. This little brat. Perhaps I should tell him that sitting on the chair was the same. Nay, let him be sweet.
"And because you are our favorite tutor!" Benjamin declared proudly. "So I must take care of you too! I am a man, after all. Looking after ladies is my greatest duty."
I chuckled, amused by his theatrics. "How very noble of you, Young Lord. Your gallantry is most appreciated."
Jim tilted his head. "How did you hurt your leg, Mrs. Woodstone? And your eye too?"
A tale far too grim for the ears of two brats. "I had an unfortunate accident when I was younger than the both of you. Tumbled down a grand staircase, quite dramatically, I might add."
Their eyes widened in horror, their imaginations surely conjuring scenes of me plummeting through the air.
Seizing the moment, I leaned in, lowering my voice to a slow, eerie whisper. "So you must always be careful. Watch your steps at all times… lest you go tumbling down the stairs."
"Eek!" Benjamin squeaked, bolting upright and throwing his arms around Jim as if shielding him from an invisible staircase monster. "Do not say it in such a ghastly voice, Mrs. Woodstone!"
I laughed heartily, utterly delighted by his reaction.
Was it a jest? No. No, it was not.
I did indeed fall down the stairs when I was younger than them. Ah, that day, how it shook me to my very core. It had been the first time I attempted to walk like a proper lady with books stacked upon my head in a futile effort to correct my posture. The books tumbled one after another. Cecilia fared better though she, too, was not without fault. But we were children. Did they truly expect us to master such a thing on the very first day? Wretched souls, the lot of them.
Our tutor wasted no time in reporting our failures, mine in particular, to that vile man I was cursed to call father.
After our lesson, I had been sent back to my bedchamber while he took Cecilia away. That alone should have been warning enough. The moment her absence stretched too long, a sickening dread clawed its way into my chest. I knew.
I had rushed from my chambers, my heart pounding with an urgency only fear could summon. And then I saw her.
Cecilia lay curled upon the floor, shivering, her frail arms raised to shield herself from the onslaught. The butler stood beside her with a horsewhip in his hands. His expression was impassive as though he were merely tending to a chore.
My breath caught as I watched in horror. The whip lashed downward with merciless precision, cracking through the silence. It struck her small lower back with such force that even I flinched. A strangled cry escaped her lips, muffled, always restrained. She never screamed the way she should have.
I hurled myself over Cecilia's trembling form, ready to shield her from the next blow. But my efforts were in vain. A cruel hand seized the back of my dress and wrenched me away with such force that I nearly lost my footing.
Then, he was there. The devil himself. His violet eyes burned into mine.
"You did this to her," he spat. "If you took your lessons seriously, this would not have happened."
"Father!" I sobbed, my vision blurred with tears as I clung to his leg. "Please, Father! Do not hurt her! I beg you!"
Somewhere in the suffocating silence, the butler's voice cut through. "My lord?"
"Give that wretched slave another lash."
"No! Please!" My cries were raw, but they fell upon deaf ears.
In an instant, his hands were upon me. His fingers dug into my small shoulders, jerking me upright. And before I could fully register what was happening, something struck the side of my face with such brutal force that the world tilted violently.
A sickening crack.
A sharp, searing pain bloomed across my left face. The sting was unbearable.
But I had no time to dwell on it. The impact sent my body reeling, weightless for a fleeting second before gravity pulled me into its cruel embrace. The world became a blur of motion. My limbs twisted, my body tossed and thrown without mercy. I could not stop myself. The grand staircase swallowed me whole, each step battering me like an unfeeling beast.
At last I reached the bottom, my body lay crumpled, my skin stinging from a dozen sharp aches. My breath came in shallow, uneven gasps. And then, blackness.
My left eye.
I could not see.
Through the haze of pain and confusion, I glimpsed him standing at the top of the staircase, gazing down at me with an expression devoid of remorse. His violet eyes bore into me for a single, haunting moment. Without a word, he turned and walked away. The butler followed in his wake as if nothing had happened.
My consciousness wavered.
Cecilia was beside me, sobbing. I could feel the warmth of her trembling hands gripping mine. I wanted to reach for her. I wanted to tell her it was alright. But I could not move or utter a word. So I smiled instead.
Then, darkness.
No physicians were summoned.
"I jest!" I declared with a light chuckle.
Benjamin, however, did not share in my amusement. "Do not jest in such a manner ever again!" he shrieked.
Ah, children. So sensitive.