Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Caught a Chill

Maxine

“These worlds are known by very few, and there is a reason. A reason that must be guarded closely. Therefore, if you speak a single word…even that first word…about these different worlds, I will settle a curse on you and your mother, a bitter curse so powerful, you’ll rue the day the words left your lips.”

That was what the witch who transported us had said after Mom and I, bound and gagged by Dad and a couple of his buddies, melted from our world into the new one.

She’d been wizened and haggard and looked ready to drop.

But she scared the beejeezus out of me.

And she had the power to rip me from everything I knew and deposit me somewhere I didn’t want to be.

Not to mention, it seemed Mom and I were pretty badly cursed already.

In other words, I knew to keep my mouth shut on that score.

Something I sensed was going to make it difficult to recruit help by being honest with people, telling them I wanted to get home, and just where that home was.

“I think you’re ready, milady.”

I came back into the room.

And it was a gorgeous room, with a huge bed with scrolled head and foot boards padded in buttoned pear-colored velvet, with creamy covers accented with a green floral design, ruched pillowcases and a forest-green velvet bolster. These colors and accents, along with the soft, dove gray flocked wallpaper on the walls, completed the room with its impossibly delicate, feminine furniture and fixtures.

I was seated at one of these impossible pieces, a dainty dressing table with bi-fold oval mirrors on the top. It was covered in pearlescent tubs and crystal bottles and vials. All mine, I knew, as one thing my dad-not-dad was not was a man who skimped when it came to presenting his product to its prospective buyers.

I’d learned this the last few weeks, considering, after I was given a brief, harrowing visit with Mom and Maxine of this world, the only people I was allowed to see were Dad-not-Dad, a dressmaker and her assistant, and a cosmetologist, who created powders, paints and scents personally for me.

Edgar had been at every one of these meetings, overseeing them, acting an ass and making certain I said nor did anything untoward. And even if the women openly, in manner if not verbally, shared they thought this odd (like they thought my clothes were odd, considering the fact, until the dressmaker made some for me, I wore my jeans and tee), that was how it happened.

Otherwise, I lived in his house with him, and he took great pains to make sure his servants, which I heard, but never saw, also never saw me.

Now, I had Idina, who I’d met the day before we left.

And I could not get a bead on her.

She was definitely shy, although very good at her job, if the new, and utterly gorgeous, soft, upswept hairstyle she gave me (along with all the others she’d done, as well as the subtle makeup) was anything to go by.

She also seemed reserved.

This was a problem.

I needed to make friends with the servants.

As far as I could tell, they were the only hope I had to hear things or get into places I could not, hopefully discovering where Mom was.

Also, helping me get to her.

And then helping me find a witch to get us home.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to communicate this, because I thought it was probably imperative not to bring a curse on Mom and me prior to us getting the hell out of here.

But I’d have to find a way to do it.

I made another attempt at this by catching her eyes in the mirror and saying, “It’s beautiful, Idina.”

“I’m pleased you like it, milady.”

I smiled at her. “I’m sorry I gave you more work by getting drenched.”

She appeared a touch confused. “It would have had to have been redone for dinner regardless, milady. You can’t wear a day style to dinner.”

Of course it would. Edgar had told me, on most days, I’d have at least two changes of outfit, it could be three or more.

A morning gown, should I be staying at home, inside.

A traveling or strolling outfit, should I be going outside.

And evening attire, always, for, “We, in this world, have proper decorum, unlike what I saw briefly in your world,” he’d said. “Therefore, we always dress for dinner.”

And dinner was a fraught affair. I knew this with how many times he’d struck my fingers brutally with a thin rod after I went for the wrong wineglass or fork.

I’d been denying it (more like trying to ignore it), but the weight in the pit of my stomach that I’d been holding made itself known. I began to feel slightly nauseous and definitely like I was about to burst into tears.

All of this happened as I was reminded, if I didn’t spring Mom and the other Maxine early, it was going to take me at least a year to get this done. I might have to have a kid in the meantime, and for sure, she or he’d have to come home with us.

This meant I’d be taking him from Loren.

Then there was Loren. And his dad, who seemed to be sweet. And Idina, who was shy and reserved, but I thought…

“Shall we get you dressed, Countess?” Idina queried.

I came back again and whispered, “I’m sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”

“I’m sure,” she whispered in return, holding my gaze in the mirror.

I drew in breath and said, “Let’s get this done.”

She tipped her head to the side and hesitantly asked, “He doesn’t please you?”

At her question, the weight in my belly felt the slightest bit lighter.

Was she making an overture?

“He’s very handsome,” I told her.

“That he is,” she agreed.

“He’s also very overbearing.”

She scrunched her mouth to the side. It was cute.

She stopped doing that to say, “They tend to be.”

“Of course they do. However, perhaps I can break him of that.”

She made a surprised pip of a laugh, and I grinned at her.

Then I said, “Bring on the iron maiden.”

Her eyes got huge.

“My corset, Idina,” I explained.

At that, she actually giggled.

That was cuter.

Cripes, now I was building a bond and making friends with a girl I was probably going to have to use.

Okay.

All right.

Gah!

This sucked.

All of it!

We moved to the dressing area.

She laced me into the contraption.

And it was (almost) worth it after she put a silk scarf over my head to protect my hair and be certain that my makeup didn’t get on my dress, before she dropped a very heavy, but outrageously beautiful gown onto my body.

It was pale pink with an embarrassment of rosy-pink beading and sparkling crystals, mostly around the bodice and the empire waist, but also dripping in swoops down the skirt from the center between my breasts at the front and along my spine at the back. These were thick along the hem. And there was a rather long train.

It had cap sleeves made entirely of strings of the crystals.

It also had a set of rosy-pink gloves that fitted all the way up to my biceps.

Completing this ensemble, pink satin slippers that had pointed toes and the beading of the gown.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

I looked amazing.

It was exquisite.

I abhorred it.

“The finishing touches,” Idina said quietly, and we moved back to the vanity.

While I sat before her, she slid a diamond-headed comb in the side of my hair. She then draped a necklace around my neck that sat at the base of my throat and was a simple row of diamonds, but there was nothing simple about the stones, their size (each had to be at least three carats), or their perfection. And finally, Idina fixed a matching bracelet over my glove at my left wrist.

She looked at me in the mirror. “You’re ready.”

“I’m perfect, and it’s all because of you,” I replied, the words feeling funny in my mouth, because they were true, but I was partially saying them to make her like me so I could ask her to do things that might get her into trouble.

She ducked her head shyly then murmured, “Which scent would you—?”

The door opened, and startled, we both looked that way to see Dad-not-Dad storming in.

“Ah, the lost art of the knock,” I bemoaned wryly.

“Leave us,” he ordered Idina.

She instantly made to exit.

I got up from the velvet seat, waited for the door to close on my maid, looked to Dad-not-Dad, and snapped, “You shouldn’t speak—”

I didn’t finish that because his arm went down and across his body, then flashed out, and he caught me on the cheekbone with a vicious backhand.

I reeled to the side, catching myself on the dressing table, the tubs and vials and bottles clattering dangerously, pain exploding through one side of my face into the other.

I started to turn back to him in shock, only to receive another, more brutal blow, one which took me down to sitting sideways on one thigh on the seat.

Stars filled my eyes, I blinked at them as my brain was forced to do nothing but experience the blinding pain, my hand drifting up to touch my burning skin.

“You audacious trollop,” he clipped into my ear. “Behind closed doors in the stables, of all places, without a chaperone.”

I was still blinking.

He caught my chin and wrenched my head around, something that also wrenched my neck, and I couldn’t control my whimper.

“We will not do this your way, you cheap, inveterate whore. To continue your education, my fair daughter, a man of noble blood does not marry a whore. Lord Remington has had his fair share of whores, and likely will have more, but he won’t take one to wife.”

He let my chin go in order to wrap his meaty fingers around the lower part of my face, the pads digging into my wounded cheek, spiking pain into my eye.

And then he got in my face.

“You will behave like the lady you are. You will represent the House of Derryman with chastity and decorum. You will not cause scandal to my House. And you will treat your father with respect.”

His fingers bit in deeper and his despicable face got closer.

“Remember, I can reward your mother, Maxine, or I can punish her. It’s your choice. Choose wisely,” he spat, literally, his words landing dots of spittle on my face.

He let me go so roughly, I flew back into the vanity, the edge of it digging into my spine, and I heard at least one lovely bottle crash to the floor.

“I’ll have a tray sent up, a spare one. You carry too much weight. A man wishes to bed a graceful doe, not a charging heifer. And I will tell the duke and his son that you, sadly, will not be able to grace their table tonight, you’ve caught a chill.”

You’ve caught a chill.

I felt his presence move away.

You’ve caught a chill.

Emeralds scattered over a coffee table.

Don’t worry about me, baby,Mom, eyes wild, pretending to have it together, whispered through the bars at me, Keep yourself safe.

“She’s had a tumble, bring her a cold compress, or a piece of meat,” Edgar ordered someone.

“Of course, milord,” Idina breathed apprehensively.

I will settle a curse on you and your mother, a bitter curse so powerful, you’ll rue the day the words left your lips.

I reached out, curling my gloved fingers around the edge of the vanity, feeling the soft satin encasing my skin, as well as the harsh burn enflaming my cheekbone.

Woodenly, I turned to face myself in the mirror and reached for the top of a pile of crisp, ironed linens that sat in a sterling silver bed, what passed for tissues in this world.

I dabbed at small spots of spittle on my face.

My father was a liar and a cheat, but he’d not once hit me.

Mom either.

I’d never been struck in my entire life.

I set the linen down and reached for the powder puff, carefully righting Idina’s artistry.

Do not fear, Countess, I’m changing my mind about the manner in which I’ll allow you to address me.

I had to have sex with him.

I sensed I would enjoy this.

I also sensed, once I was gone, he’d know me as nothing but a woman who used him, then threw him away.

I had nothing. No money. I didn’t even know where the hell I was. I didn’t know how to drive a carriage. I’d been on a horse exactly once in my entire life, on a docile trail ride in a state park on a date with a boyfriend. I didn’t even know the name of the city we left three days ago, much less how to find my way back there.

My mother was eating gruel.

“Countess, come to bed, let’s get this on that cheek,” Idina urged from my side.

I turned my head and stared at the large slab of red beef held on a coarse piece of paper in her hand.

It felt like I’d sat there mere moments, but while I did she’d been down to the kitchen and back up.

“I don’t want meat on my face,” I said tremulously.

“I’ll get a compress then,” she said hurriedly.

Caught a chill.

If Edgar said that to Loren and Ansley, they…would…freak.

I stood.

Idina reared back and gazed up at me.

“Are they still in the drawing room?” I asked.

“Madam, your face, the color is changing, it’s swell—”

I wrapped my fingers around her upper arm. “Idina, honey, are they still having drinks in the drawing room?”

She nodded uncertainly. “I think so.”

I turned.

The silk and beads and crystals turned with me and the train behind me designed to follow my lead elegantly did so.

I lifted my head, took a deep breath…

And walked from the room.