“You don’t want me to make a mess in ‘ere now, do ya?” Loveless threatened, his voice still sickly sweet, like honey.
She could feel his malice oozing through the cracks on the floor, seeping towards her like dark blood that would infect her with a gangrenous disease.
“Be a good girl, nah ‘n open the door, Rosalie,” he urged again, less kindly this time.
Loveless was not a patient man. He was also ferocious. Destructive. If he threatened something, he would surely do it. She dared not risk him hurting the girls, who had been but a few doors down the corridor. Because, the thought had probably occurred to him, in case she refused to do his bidding.
Slowly, with a hand that trembled as if it didn’t even belong to her, she pressed the doorknob. The door suddenly flung open, revealing Loveless, and Hastings standing beside him, still perplexed at what was going on and why he needed to take this man to Rosalie’s room.
“There be a good girl,” Loveless hissed through yellow teeth, as he entered the room, pushing his way past Rosalie.
She sent a pleading look to Hastings, her hands crossed at her chest, as if to prevent her heart from bursting out of her chest.
“Is everything all right, Miss. Blake?” Hastings asked, standing in the doorway.
She could see he was fighting his urge to remain just a butler and not meddle into affairs that obviously did not concern him, and his feelings of friendship for this woman who obviously needed his help. He could not decide which way to lean towards.
“We ain’t in need of yer ‘elp, so buzz off!” Loveless slammed the door closed, then kept it so with his hand on the doorknob.
Hastings started pounding on the door with his fists.
“Open the door at once!” She could hear his voice, but she knew it was to no avail.
“Get yer stuff!” Loveless growled. “That, ‘n that over there! We could sell it for good money.”
She cried as she grabbed her prettiest dress and a pair of shoes that she would probably never again wear. Someone else will get that privilege, and all the other privileges she dared to think would be hers.
“Is that all?”
No… that’s not all! I won’t go with you! I’m staying here! Do you hear me, you monster!
Her lips were parted, but no sound came out. She was as silent as a graveyard, a mere ghost of her former self. She would once again be known as the ghost woman, and people would be pointing their fingers, laughing, laughing so hard their stomachs would hurt. Hers would ache as well, but for a whole different reason.
A silent little part of her still hoped that Edmund would appear, out of nowhere, and prevent this wicked man from taking her back to that wretched place, where she only knew misery. But he was not there. He believed everything Loveless had told him. Their fairy tale was over now. She could not pretend anymore.
“Are ye deaf!?” he shouted. “We goin’ right this minute!”
He grabbed her by the shoulder, then pushed her towards the open door. Hastings was still standing there, his puffy cheeks flushed at his own inadequacy and inability to do something specific about this whole situation.
“What’s happening?” A voice from down the hall echoed; a voice Rosalie prayed she would not hear.
Madeline appeared first, then her sister joined in the spectacle, holding her doll in her hands. They looked confused; their little lips open wide in shock at seeing their favorite governess being led away.
“Nothing,” Rosalie quickly wiped her tears with the sleeve of her dress, “nothing is happening. Please, just go back to your room, and finish your assignments, all right?”
She could barely speak. Mere effort at voicing her thoughts felt like a punch in the stomach, but she had to assure them that everything was all right, even if it wasn’t so. The girls had gone through enough. She didn’t want them to witness this as well.
“Who is this man?” Madeline asked, her eyes staring at Loveless, who had a firm grasp on Rosalie’s elbow.
She could feel his fingers digging into her soft flesh. He would leave red marks for days, just like he did before, and she would hide them with long sleeves or powder, depending on where they were. What hurt more was the girls seeing her like this. She couldn’t let that happen.
“He is my… friend,” Rosalie had never said a more hideous lie in her life, and she begged the providence to forgive her for it. “I am just going somewhere with him, but everything will be all right.”
At that moment, the Countess appeared from the library. Her dignified persona was obviously shocked at the commotion that was taking place in her own home, but she did not show it in the slightest. She appeared instead as if she had been summoned.
“Your Grace,” Rosalie pleaded with a voice that trembled like a leaf in the wind, “please take the girls back to their room.”
The Countess hesitated for a moment. Her eyes traveled from Rosalie to Loveless, then back to her again. She was trying to comprehend the situation, to see if she should act, but she dared not do anything. Rosalie understood the reason for that inaction. The girls were there. They could not risk this man harming them in any way.
