Once upon a Town...
After Cressida poured buckets of water over their mattresses, the twins planned for weeks on how to exact revenge.
'Do you not think this is rather childish?' Belinda asked, arms crossed over her chest as the twins poured oil on the top steps of the western staircase.
'But we're children, Belinda,' Posy said, the large red ribbon on top of her head bobbing as she giggled with her twin.
'We are expected to act as ladies. This is not so ladylike.' Her eyes traveled down the long staircase. 'And it is very dangerous.'
'Well, for them, yes, but not for us,' said Poppy, standing up. 'Go call them, Belinda.'
When Belinda stayed her ground, Posy rolled her eyes. 'If you do not go, we will not invite you to our birthday party next month.'
Belinda sighed and turned. She found Cressida and Mary in the latter's room, sharing a book.
'Madam Pearson wants to see you both,' she told them wryly. 'At the eastern office.'
'But she does not meet students there,' Cressida said. 'It is too far.'
She rolled her eyes. 'If you use the eastern staircase, Cressida, it would not be that far.'
She left the pair without another word and did not return to the twins. She was not invited to their party a month later.
*****
"Please accept my apology," Belinda said in a low voice. She was ashamed of what she did, but also because she was caught and had to apologize for it.
She rarely apologized. In fact, it had been a long time since she begged for forgiveness. And it was not even for something she was guilty of. But today was different. She had let fear overcome her, and she was totally at fault. Cressida and Calan did not deserve such ungrateful behavior.
That was very foolish of you, Belinda," Cressida said, shaking her head. "You ought to have at least ran away after everyone was asleep."
Calan's head snapped to his wife, warning tucked between his tight smile.
"Well, it is true," Cressida said, catching her husband's look. "I got farther than you did when I escaped Calan. And I did not steal a horse. I hired a hackney—which, unfortunately, had very slow horses. Still, I got quite far."
"You did not escape, darling," Calan wryly said.
"Well, now that you said it, I did not. You threw me out." To Belinda, she added, "I was forced to leave."
"I did not—"
"No matter," Cressida interjected, looking at Belinda. "You should have not taken off like that. How can Mac protect you if you continue to put yourself in danger?"
"I did not intend to put myself in danger," she said through her teeth. "I was trying to get away from it."
Cressida sighed, rolling her eyes. "Well, if you consider the passage guards a threat, then I agree you should go elsewhere." Seeing her reaction, Cressida added, "No, Mac did not tell me. I was able to deduce. After I told you about the passage, your face turned pallid."
"I might have been running away from you."
"Well, it is good that I know you do not run away from a former nemesis, darling."
"Former?" she asked, brow arched high.
Cressida scoffed. "Forgive me, but I rarely consider anyone my nemesis nowadays. I am much more forgiving. Ask my husband." With a sigh, she added, "Perhaps you should, too."
Belinda just smiled. "I would like to retire to my room now."
McKenzie was only happy to end the conversation and walked with her out of the parlor.
"I wish to leave as soon as possible," she said as they climbed the grand staircase.
"Of course. I know you cannot wait to get back to Willowfair. To exact your vengeance?"
She refused to answer. How he managed to make the right conclusion, she did not care.
"You are making things complicated."
She remained mum until they reached the top landing. He blocked her path when she turned. In the sound light, his scar was more visible. So was his curiosity.
Holding his gaze, she said, "Whatever I decide to do with the villa and the dresses you will grant me will no longer be your concern, Mr Haverston. I will provide you with important information that will change the course of your investigation. I will give you names and places. I will give you details of their operation."
"And you will also tell me what they do to these victims."
She stiffened, her gaze faltered. "I already told you what they do to us. They chain us for a year and they find use of us in multiple ways. You do not have to know the details. It is not as important as the people involved in the trade and stopping them."
"Every detail matters, Belinda. We do not only need to know the perpetrators, we also need the profile of their victims. I need to know why they were chosen."
"They were chosen because they are either unimportant or unwanted," she replied hotly. And he must have glimpsed the contained fury because his face changed then, softening into pity.
She swallowed the pain. And truly, it was painful to entice nothing else but pity from these people. Judgment she could deal with, contempt even more. But pity was the last thing she wanted.
"You were shunned," he said, voice bare of emotion. "If your father did not arrange for you to be banished, you would not have gone through what you did. I understand why you would want to clear your name, or even want revenge. But now is not the time to do all that. Not when people are after you. You must also understand that your actions have caused everyone to judge you."
Belinda scoffed. "Perhaps. Or mayhap it was the lack of it that led me to my doom."
His eyes narrowed as if intrigued. "And what is the truth then? Tell me. Perhaps I would have a better understanding."
"Would you believe me if I told you?"
He did not answer. He just stared at her like he was facing a puzzle he already knew how to solve.
"Of course, you will not," she answered for him. "And thus I do not find a reason to explain myself or my actions—past or present. I'm sorry for having acted so foolishly, stealing your horse and Cressida's ring." She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. "I shall cooperate until you give me what I want for the information I have on the slavery trade. Until then, you have my word that I shall not taint your family's name. I shall remain separate from your personal affairs. Once we all get what we want, whatever actions I take shall solely and fully be my own, along with the consequences."
*****
He was back in the parlor with Calan and Cressida, deep in thought. He now had to conclude that Belinda Carrington was a feast of different things. Sometimes she was the old Belinda Carrington that everyone knew—the vile, beautiful creature who looked down on those beneath her, and used those she associated with. But there were times when he felt she was rational and brave. And then there were those rare moments when she was the misjudged, weak, mysterious, and frail woman.
Whichever of those things she was, he knew he ought to prepare himself. Victim or not, liar or not, proud or not, Belinda Carrington was unpredictable.
"You have that look Calan wears whenever he tries to decipher me," Cressida noted. "Are you baffled by Belinda's actions?"
He blinked and cleared his throat. "I am merely curious. She truly believes she has been wronged."
"Well, she was."
"Yes, by being banished aboveground. But do you truly think that you or any ladies in the Town would have survived the scandal if it happened to you?" As his sister-in-law pondered on his question, he added, "She seems to blame others for the scandal that led to her banishment."
He looked at his brother, who looked disinterested. Calan had very little regard for scandals. His wife, for one, was always mentioned on the Herald for her petty scandals. But while Calan had nothing to say about Belinda, Cressida certainly did. "You will find Belinda a challenge, Mac. She is like the sea, you know."
He frowned. "You mean the large body of water aboveground?"
"Yes. The one that moves. Belinda is like that. She is like the sea—unpredictable and unstoppable. It had always been her nature to break and ruin those around her. She can very well cause wreckage upon those who are close to her." But then Cressida added, "But so does every woman, Mac. Most particularly the scorned ones."
He cocked a brow. "Are you defending her?"
"No, I am not. I know how scathing she can be. After everything she and her friends did to Mary when we were in Madam Pearson's, however trivial they may be now, I do not disagree with everyone's opinion that she deserved the wrath of her scandal. However, I also believe she does not deserve the marks around her wrists."
*****
Perhaps McKenzie Haverston could keep his word, Belinda thought two days later. He had just told her they were leaving Easton on the morrow.
She sank lower in the hot bath, closing her eyes, relieved. She smiled, imagining her villa, the new dresses, and a giant bed very much like the one she had in this room. She would have a carriage; servants to do her bidding. How marvelous!
But then the smile melted. She knew those things would not stay with her for long, because once she was done with her plans, she would disappear again. But this time, she would take Nana with her. And hopefully, Julia too.
She did not hear the maid enter and almost jumped out of the tub when the woman spoke behind her, asking, "Would you wish me to scrub your back, my lady?"
"N-No," she said, leaning away from the woman. "I don't need help. Thank you."
"But I can help you—" the woman was saying, then stopped. Belinda looked over her shoulder and realized that the woman's eyes had gone wide in horror. In her movement, she caused the water to move, exposing her back to the woman with each gentle fall of the water.
She knew what the woman saw. It was written all over her face.
"Go," she snapped. "I said I don't need help."
The woman flinched and scurried out the door. Belinda reached for the towel and dried herself. She could no longer feel the scars, but sometimes, on cold nights, they hurt, burning at first, then cause a stabbing pain where they stretched. It was always tolerable, just enough to remind her of the deeper scars within—the ones that never healed.
That night, she dressed in her new nightdress. Putting off the lights, she slipped into bed, scars and all.