Wilhelmina A Novella (2 page)

She sat me down in front of my vanity mirror and flitted to my closet. I saw my wild, fiery hair burning fiercely and freely down my back to my waist as Mary grabbed a comb. Though I didn’t enjoy the rough ivory teeth tugging through my tangled scalp, I did enjoy my time with my stepsister.

I had missed her so, and it was hard to believe that such a kind and warm person came out of her mother. Mary was so fun and bubbly that I already missed her again and she hadn’t even left my room.

In her letters, Mary described her life at Ms. Bathory’s estate and how badly she wanted to run away. But about three months ago, Mary stopped writing. I was afraid of what might have happened to her, but mother didn’t seem concerned.

Yet here she stood combing my hair, just fine and obviously unharmed, though as I looked into her eyes in the mirror as she occupied herself with my tangles a cold feeling came over me. Her pale skin and dark eyes reminded me of Mr. Abberdean’s features.

I wanted to ask why she’d stopped writing, what became of her during those long months, but I never did.

'This is the first time you get to talk to anyone at one of mother’s parties,' I said. 'Now that you’re a lady, you can drink wine, and champagne, and laugh it up with the men.'

'I can tell that you’re going to be a handful when you become a proper lady,' Mary smiled.

'I’m gonna be just like Ms. Portia of Jefferson. They say that she has two men on one arm, and three on the other, and everybody thinks she’s the most beautiful woman in five Parishes.' I puckered my lips in the mirror, imagining fine rose petals above my chin, while Mary laughed.

'If you like looking at the queen of the pig-people, then yes, she is the most beautiful creature in five Parishes,' Mary said. I studied her in the mirror and gazed for a while as she tied my hair back.

'I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,' I said, and I meant it. Something about her seemed to dazzle and shine, like a fire burned beneath her very skin. 'You’ll attract a fine husband, I just know it. You should marry one of the Lamont brothers.'

Mary stopped combing my hair and stared out the window with a grim expression upon her beautiful face. 'Tonight is all about mama’s plan. I’ll very much be like one of your dolls, something pretty on display for the men of this town to gawk and stare and fantasize about. And it’s everything that a girl like you and me should wish for.'

'Then why do you look so sad?' I asked.

'Because shame is like a dog; I can run, but it will follow me until my dying day.'

Mary didn’t say anything after that; she simply kept herself busy with my hair.

When darkness began to settle in and the guests started arriving, I waited anxiously at my window to see when Mr. Abberdean would arrive. Mary dressed me in my very best forest green gown and tied my hair back with a beautiful red silk ribbon that she’d given me before she left to live with her governess. I may not have cared for dresses, or what other people thought of me, and that was especially true for my step mother, but I would wear the most embarrassing dress in the world if it meant making Mr. Abberdean happy.

When it grew too dark to see whose carriages arrived outside of my window, I made my way to the top of the stairs. I sat there, watching the front door with a book clutched in my hand. I couldn’t wait to discuss the book,
Emma
, with Mr. Abberdean. The problem was that I
had
to wait, which took much longer than expected.

Finally, when the clock chimed nine o’clock, I saw him.

Our house slave, Abby, opened the door for Mr. Abberdean and he greeted her with a perfect, heart swelling smile. She took his long coat off of his shoulders and I saw his lean body formed impressively in a white long sleeved shirt covered in a dark vest, with black striped Crocker trousers. Mr. Abberdean, in my opinion, had always been the best dressed man in these gatherings, though since he had handsome youth he didn’t really need to be.

I immediately gripped the book in my fist as he chatted lightly with Abby. I never understood why, but I did admire that he took the time to talk and laugh with Abby. If it weren’t for him, then she would have been as noticed as a table lamp by guests.

I was about to make my way down the stairs to greet him, quite enthusiastically I might add, but my plans were immediately ground to a halt when my stepmother slithered out of the sitting room to greet and invite him in.

'Charles, how wonderful of you to come!' Her sing-songy falsetto made my skin tingle in revulsion. 'I wasn’t certain that you would return from Gretna in time to come by.'

'I never miss your lovely soirees,' Mr. Abberdean said with a polite smile. 'You told me that tonight was particularly important, didn’t you? And besides, I would be sorely missed if I did.' He glanced up at me with a wink at the end of that sentence, and my knees nearly gave out.

Mother looked up at me with a grimace, and pulled Mr. Abberdean out of sight. My stomach boiled with anger, but Mary appeared at my side out of nowhere, gently clutching my shoulder with her feverishly hot hands. I looked up and she smiled sympathetically.

'Why don’t you go help Abby?' She suggested. I clutched the book and wandered down the staircase without argument. I looked over my shoulder to gaze upon Mary’s stunning beauty again, but she’d run off so quickly, as though she had vanished into thin air.

'I swear to you child, the devil must be playin’ somethin’ mighty on his fiddle; these kinds of thunder storms don’t just come out for no reason.'

Abby ranted as she hovered over the counter, carving the chicken. 'Somethin’ big must be comin’.'

I didn’t much care for Abby’s tirade as she rushed around the kitchen, but it didn’t matter much as my mind was in another room with Mr. Abberdean. Little did I know that something big
was
headed our way, or at least someone was dropping by that would end my own little world by night’s end.

I looked up when the kitchen door was thrown open.

‘I can’t stand another minute out there, Abby; they’d pick my eyes if they could, the vultures!’ Mr. Abberdean said. Abby smirked as she went about rolling out her dough.

‘Tha’s a business man for you, Mr. Abberdean; they only want to get to know you if they got somethin’ to gain.’

‘That’s true enough, Abby, but I was talking about the women.’ Mr. Abberdean smirked. ‘They’re a gaggle of drunk and sexually depraved magpies, I tell you.’

Abby cleared her throat and tipped her head in my direction. Mr. Abberdean’s smirk fell when he saw me. He quickly swept his medium length hair out of his blue eyes and placed his hands behind his back and bowed properly. I curtseyed and smiled, holding the book for him to see.

‘Had I known that I would be in the presence of a princess I would have come properly armed with a present,’ Mr. Abberdean said regrettably. ‘Then again…’

He brought his hands from behind his back and there was a small jewelry box.

‘Is that really a present? For me?’ I asked eagerly.

‘I don’t know, you’ll have to find out for yourself,’ he shrugged. I rushed toward him but stopped halfway when he held out a hand. ‘Not so fast, princess; first, you must do something for me; a trade.’

‘I don’t have anything worth trading, sir,’ I said.

‘Abby, could you give young miss Wilhelmina and I a moment alone?’ Mr. Abberdean asked. Abby raised her brow suspiciously and stuck her knife in the chopping block.

‘I’m not sure it’d be proper of me to leave a young lady in the presence of a grown man, Mr. Abberdean,’ Abby told him matter-of-factly. I glared at her with the unmistakable message that silently shouted ‘
traitor
’, but Mr. Abberdean only flashed a smile in her direction.

‘Abby, you know that my heart belongs to you,’ he assured her. After fighting the urge, Abby gave him a small smile and took off her apron.

‘Two minutes,’ she warned. She walked past him and shut the kitchen door behind her. Mr. Abberdean knelt down on one knee and looked up into my face with a warm smile that touched his dark eyes.

‘What do you want, sir?’ I asked.

‘Well we’ve known each other for three years now, Wilhelmina, so you can start by calling me Charles,’ he winked. He beckoned me toward him, and although I was nervous and weary as to what he wanted of me, I went to him willingly. I stood before him and stared down, captivated by his strange but beautifully angular features.

He was what an angel should look like, or even god himself; Mr. Abberdean was so alluringly handsome that it haunted me.

He placed the small box on the counter and reached up, cupping my face in his warm gloved hands. They were so warm that it felt as though his hands were made of fire.

‘Your sister Mary has made you look absolutely astonishing,’ he said. My heart fluttered behind my ribs as I struggled to breathe. His hands let go of my face and reached past my ears on either side. My hair fell out of its binding as he effortlessly untied my ribbon. He held the ribbon as he drew his hands back, and he smiled. ‘But I wouldn’t have you looking any other way than how you really are.’

‘Sir?’ I asked, riddled by his rhetoric.

‘Charles,’ he reminded me. He brushed my hair with his fingers, and let it run its wild course down my shoulders and around my face. ‘I’m leaving, Wilhelmina.’

‘What do you mean leaving?' I asked him darkly. I was hoping that he was joking, but I knew that he had a better sense of humor than that.

‘I’m going to England, and I won’t be back for a very long, long time.’ He told me. The sorrow in the pit of my stomach reached his eyes as though his mood depended on my own.

‘No,’ was all that I could say. I hadn’t even realized that I dropped the book until he picked it up from the floor and wrapped my red ribbon around it. ‘No, you can’t just leave, why are you leaving?’ I asked. The thought of him going anywhere, not seeing him next week, or the weeks to follow, just couldn’t fit inside of my head.

‘I’ve been asked by a colleague of mine to help him on a book he’s been working on. He’s a professor at Oxford, and a dear friend. How could I say no?’ he explained practically. But I was not practical at the moment, not at all.

‘You could have said no like anyone else!’ I shouted. Charles didn’t try to silence me, he simply stared back with a hard frown in his eyes. I didn’t care that he was upset, I felt
betrayed
. As though he had chosen someone else over me. He pocketed the book and stood up, leaning down and kissing me on the crown of my forehead. His hot lips lingered there for a moment, clutching my hair, until the kitchen door was opened and I froze under Mr. Abberdean’s hold.

‘Charles, we don’t have time for this.’ Mary said as she lingered in the doorway, staring at the two of us. What she must have thought, I could only imagine. ‘Come, the governess is here. She’s been asking for you.’ Mary said. She closed the door and left the two of us alone. I was too shocked to speak; by the fact that Mary had just seen Mr. Abberdean kissing me, and by the fact that my world outside of this prison was about to leave my life.

‘I understand that you’re upset.’ Mr. Abberdean said faintly as he cupped my face in his warm hands again. ‘I can’t ask you to forgive me, but I can’t bear for you to forget me.’

‘How long will you be away?’ I asked. He looked away, grinding his jaw before he finally answered.

‘Two years.’ He said. My heart plummeted, and I would have fallen with it had my body not been frozen in its position. ‘I know what your life is like, I do, but things will get better for you, I promise.’

He was gone before I could say anything. I was alone now, in the kitchen, heaving in and out because it was the only way I knew how to breathe at the moment. I gripped the counter where the box lied idly, and held it for support. Abby reentered the kitchen and I had barely noticed until she asked me what was wrong.

‘He’s leaving,’ I gasped, and it was as if the moment I admitted it out loud it had solidified into a fact.

‘Just the same, you’re leavin’ too.’ Abby said.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘Your sister’s governess, that Bathory woman, just announced that she and your mama agreed that she would take you into her care, just like Mary.’ Abby said. I stared with disbelief. Not only was Mr. Abberdean leaving, but I was leaving behind everything that kept him alive. The last pieces of my sanctuary were being taken from me. ‘Don’t you know what this means?

‘It means that you don’t have to put up with your step-mama anymore! It means that you’re goin’ to be a proper woman, and then you’ll be able to get away from all of this.’ Abby said. ‘I know you don’t think that it’s good for you right now, but you’ll see that everything happens for a reason. God is takin’ care of you, child.’

I didn’t care. I didn’t care about learning to be a woman, or god, or anything; all I could focus on was the stinging pain inside of me at that moment. I broke down and fell into Abby’s arms, crying and sobbing until my eyes were numb.

I didn’t want to go, and I didn’t want Mr. Abberdean to leave.

I didn’t want my life to change. But I would later find out that Abby was right. I couldn’t see it then, but both Charles and Mary were paving a new road for me, one very different than the paths they were forced into. Both of them were trying to shape my future for the better, even if that involved their absences in my life, or their many sacrifices.

They were willing to do this, and much more, because in their own, very different ways, they loved me.

But at that moment, I was alone and broken.