Page 4 of When the Laird Claims
“Are you hurt?” Melody’s muffled voice asked against her older sister’s shoulder. “What has happened?”
Victoria could have cried at the irony of it. “Am I not the one who ought to be saying that to you?”
“I barely know. I heard a crash, then people shouting. What is happening out there?” Melody asked, her eyes wide with panic. Then she looked down to see the state of Victoria’s gloves, a hue of rusty pinkjustbeginning to seep through the satin. “Oh, whatis that? Are you bleeding? Did you hurt yourself? Did someone hurt you?”
It would have been too easy to waste minutes there, explaining the nature of Charles Rowley and just how hurt she was, but Victoria’s greater concern was for their mutual survival.
“There is no time for that. We must leave right this very moment,” Victoria said, her tone leaving absolutely no room for argument.
Melody looked like she might protest for a couple of moments, the questions very obvious on her beautiful face.
They must have looked quite a pair, Victoria all drawn and gaunt and miserable in her wedding dress and Melody in her gown, her black hair done up prettily, her face still healthy and showing all the signs that she had been mercifully well cared for during her stay here. The Earl had been doing everything in his power to limit their time together, telling tales to try to crush Victoria’s spirit further, so it was a relief to see Melody unharmed.
Small mercies…
Ultimately, Melody’s faith in her sister won out, and she nodded once before slipping her hand into her older sister’s. “Lead the way. Tell me everything when we are safe.”
Victoria could have cried from the trust and hope alone. She tightly grasped her sister’s hand in return, and the pair of themheaded into the maids’ corridor in Melody’s room. It was a small blessing that it was unlocked. The passageway was a tight fit, made all the more difficult to move through when Victoria would not let go of Melody’s hand, attempting to hurry without jostling her sister too much.
“I do not even know where we will be going, but we have to get out of this place,” Victoria wheezed back over her shoulder as they pressed on through the dimly lit gloom of the labyrinthine passageways.
Melody’s confusion was palpable. “All right, I trust you.”
Victoria’s eyes started to blur with tears as she continued down the dusty corridors, glancing around corners before a door spat them out into the kitchens. The staff were all gone, pots and utensils left abandoned, the room still warm from the hearths that had been preparing dinner. Although she noticed that several knives were missing from the knife block… and wondered if she ought to take one too.
Realizing that she had no business wielding a knife, she pulled her sister toward the far door and eased it open to peek out.
She had no idea which direction would get them out of this manor, she had no idea how to get to the stables, and she certainly did not know how to hitch up a horse on her own, let alone prepare a carriage, but she knew that she could not stay here. She was utterly lost, feeling as helpless as Charles liked to tell her she was.
“Perhaps… perhaps we ought to go this way?” Victoria offered, knowing that she needed to pretend that she knew what she was doing, though it did not feel like she was very successful in her efforts.
Melody only tightened her grip on her sister’s hand and nodded toward her once more.
“When we get to wherever you wish to go, will you tell me what is wrong? Perhaps we should find Father?” Melody offered, her sweet voice attempting to make sense of the situation.
“No!” Victoria nearly shouted.
That was the very last thing that she would do. Father was the entire reason that she was in this mess. If he had not been so desperate, tangled in a great knot of his own making, then he would never have handed her over to Charles. He would instead have seen that Charles’ offer was too good to be true and rejected it, as a good father should have done. But she could not tell that to her sister either.
“What I mean to say is, no, we cannot do that. It is not an option. I will explain everything to you, but I just… need time and to first get us out of here. Can you grant me that patience?”
Melody nodded, fear starting to color her expression. “Yes, of course.”
Victoria’s palm was starting to feel very sweaty inside her glove. She ushered her sister through the kitchen door, picked a direction from the branching hallways beyond, and started walking. One of them had to lead to an exit, surely.
A crash from the way that they were heading stopped Victoria in her tracks once more. It did not seem that continuing down this route was going to be a wise choice. Voices sounded from down the corridor, loud and angry seeming, while a scream and the shattering of something sent a shudder down her spine.
Victoria walked backward and pushed Melody into the first open door that she could find, tucking her sister back against the wall while shepeered out to see what was afoot.
“We willnae hurt ye, we just want ye to tell us where yer master is!” a gruff voice barked, not to her but to some unfortunate servant down the way.
Must have been the Scottish warriors that the footman had been speaking about.
“Listen to what I say, please,” Victoria whispered to Melody, her voice trembling as her gaze flitted from her sister to the direction of those voices. “Swear to me that you will go and find Emma. You know Emma, right?”
Melody nodded, her eyes growing even wider.
“You will not go home under any circumstances. Tell Emma that I sent you to stay with her, that she must allow you to stay as her guest. I know that she will do it. Swear to me that you will do this for me,” Victoria urged.
