17 Chapter 17

There were days when I felt like a Clydesdale, pulling the plough and tilling an endless field. The harness weighed heavy around my neck and shoulders, but I had no way to remove it on my own. The leather bit into my skin, as I strained against the weight I must drag behind me.

Today is most certainly one of those days.

We started extra early. With the ball that night, our workload seemed to quadruple. They all wanted special baths and their hair washed, which meant lugging hot water up to their rooms because we had no money to plumb in the bathroom. Father had planned one before the war. The room was built and tiled and held a divine claw-foot bath, but the pipes were never connected. Now it seemed like an extravagant luxury. I was quite happy with the tin bath in the kitchen; it was closer to both the water source and the range to heat it. But no, they had to bathe upstairs in the fancy, useless room.

I was nearly done for the evening. The horses munched on their feed in the barn as I walked back to the house. My feet were killing me, and all I wanted was to lie down. Then I remembered that Seth had made me promise to go tonight. Silly to even contemplate it when I didn't have an evening gown, though Charlotte's hand me down might suffice. Sometimes, the way he looked at me, I don't know if he even noticed what I was wearing.

Oh. Shouldn't have thought that. The very idea of being naked with Seth made something hot uncurl and slither around my insides.

I snorted, wrestling my thoughts back in reality. How could I contemplate a night of dancing when my toes were numb? Maybe it would be bearable if he held me close to keep me upright. A giggle, most unlike me, shot from my throat as I pushed through the back door.

Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table, rapping one long fingernail on the waxed surface. Louise and Charlotte sat on the opposite side. Charlotte stared at her folded hands in her lap. Louise filed her nails and tried to appear disinterested, but her head shot up and pure venom filled her eyes. Magda stood at the range, her face drained and pale. Her gaze flew to me and she shook her head. Step-mother fixed me with her steel gaze; the ice blue pierced me and held me to the spot before I could heed Magda's warning and turn tail.

"Do take a seat, Eleanor." She lifted a foot and kicked a chair out from the table. It scraped along the floor. Never had an inanimate piece of furniture looked more foreboding.

Louise smirked, while Charlotte still avoided looking at me. They rarely ventured into the kitchen, to the servant's territory. For all three of them to be here, I was in trouble so deep I might spot the Titanic.

I sat and waited for the iceberg to hit. The only question racing through my mind was did I try and cling to the wreckage, or jump clear and take my chances in the frigid waters? I could only think of one incredibly handsome and charming reason that would bring her rage down on my head.

I laid my palms on the table, hoping to hide the quiver starting in my fingertips. Elizabeth could cut me to the core with a few choice words. While I could slay vermin, this demon defeated me in every single encounter.

"I have a very dear friend who happens to be a companion to Queen Alexandra," Elizabeth said, her gaze drilling through me. "And today she relayed a very interesting piece of gossip. Did you know that a duke, being so close to the throne, requires the permission of the monarch to marry?"

I stared at my hands, the tremor visible and creeping up my arm. "No ma'am. I did not know that."

She laughed, a cold sharp thing. If a noise could take physical shape, this would be my iceberg, bearing down on me and ready to rip my side open.

"Of course not. You are merely a servant, such matters are far above your head." The fingernail kept rapping on the table. "The Duke of Leithfield has sought the king and consort's opinion for his choice of bride. Apparently, he has his eye on a local Somerset girl."

Ice seeped through my veins, and I gritted my jaw to stop my teeth from rattling. "This is excellent news, is it not? Surely this mean he intends to propose to Louise? Perhaps he will ask her tonight, at the ball?"

Her fist slammed on the table and she pushed out from her chair. "He seeks permission to marry Miss Eleanor Cowie."

"Trollop!" Louise spat the word, dropped her nail file on the table, and half rose from her chair. Her face flushed red with anger that she held contained. Even she knew better than to take on her mother. "You underhanded, devious, conniving dollymop."

I was the captain on this sinking vessel as the first wave crashed over the bow. I glanced from Louise to Elizabeth, not sure which would strike first. Louise was more unstable, but Elizabeth had years of practice at beating me down. Charlotte drew in on herself, trying to disappear from the argument.

"A mistake, surely? What had I done? I should never have let his misconception linger for so long. I never intentionally deceived Seth. I thought we enjoyed a summer romance, and that his feelings would turn just as the trees did with the coming autumn. I thought to cherish his kisses as memories, like a flower pressed in a book long after winter has taken hold and the warmth of the sun has cooled.

Elizabeth rose and walked behind me, each step measured and deliberate. "I heard talk that your father never married your servant mother, but fooled the imbecile by waving a piece of paper at her, so I can understand you using her surname. But really, to deceive the duke into thinking you had more breeding than the pigs wallowing in mud? How could he mistake you for anything but a cheap whore?"

There was at least some of her statement I could rebut. "I assure you, I made no such assertion to him about my origins. It is only in the course of protecting our district from vermin, that I have had need to talk to Seth."

From across the table, Louise spluttered. She leaned on her knuckles. "His name should never pass your common lips."

"Quite, dearest." Elizabeth said. "You would dare call his grace by his given name? You, a mere scullery maid?"

In that fraught moment, I was the gazelle surrounded by hyenas. I dared not turn my head to face Step-mother and leave myself exposed to Louise and Charlotte.

Elizabeth pointed a finger at Magda. "Get out."

The cook froze and her gaze darted to my face. I had forgotten she was even there until now. "Go," I mouthed. I would not endanger my friends through my folly. She nodded and rushed out the door. I only hoped she would bring back the others, and Elizabeth would stay her hand Or would an audience provoke her further?

"Hold her," Elizabeth said to her daughters.

Charlotte looked up. "I really don't think this is necessary."

Elizabeth glared at her youngest child. "Excuse me? Am I sadly mistaken? Did I harbour a traitorous viper to my bosom all these years?"

"No," Charlotte spluttered. "I just think?

"Family or the serving girl?" Elizabeth asked. Her voice dropped to a low tone. "Choose your side Charlotte, and think very carefully."

A tear trickled from Charlotte's tightly closed eyes. She shook her head, opened her eyes, and stared at me. I read the apology she could never voice in her damp gaze. There was no escape for her from her mother's tight grasp. If only I could think of a way to free us all from Elizabeth's reign, and revisit her foul deeds upon her.

"Enough. She needs to be punished for touching my fianc?" Louise said. She lunged, grabbed my hands, and pulled me across the table.

Louise caught me as I still stared at Charlotte, throwing me off balance. I slammed into the wood before I could catch my footing and escape. Charlotte threw in her lot with the enemy and seized my other hand. I fought and struggled, but they were standing, and I was stretched over the expanse of timber, my toes off the ground.

"He is mine," Louise said, her face low to glare at me. "And he will propose tonight and forget you ever existed."

I heard the switch the moment before it fell. It made an audible woosh as it cut through the air, seconds before it struck my back. I jerked, but kept my lips sealed. For once I was grateful for my rough linen shirt and waistcoat. Step-mother was in too much of a hurry to strip me bare, and the clothing offered a measure of protection from the blows.

"Slattern," Elizabeth said, dashing another blow to my body. Each strike was punctuated with an insult, either to me, or my mother. Over and over, the physical blow struck laced with a verbal one.

After ten, I lost count. Not long after that, I stopped struggling. Despite the layers of clothing, my skin became sensitised as my nerves screamed with each hit. My mind couldn't hold in the whimpers and count at the same time. I refused to cry out, but tears welled in my eyes. Never had I seen Step-mother this angry. Never had a beating lasted this long. I braced for the next strike, but it didn't come.

"Bring her to the stables."

I nearly sobbed in relief. I lay still; my back burned as though she had taken the iron resting on the range and pressed it to my naked skin. Louise and Charlotte pulled me to my feet, and I cried out as stiff muscles flexed and pain flared over me. I stumbled for a step or two on wobbly legs that refused to be a party to whatever else she planned.

Fight, Ella, fight. I commanded myself. I would not be her willing victim. We emerged into the early dusk; I drew a deep lungful of fresh air and sought to bring my body back under my control.

Then I struck.

My arm came free of Charlotte's grip, flew in an arc, and connected with Louise's face. There was a most satisfying smack as I punched her square in the nose. It was almost like Charlotte knew what was coming, and had deliberately let me go. Louise went down screaming, and Elizabeth turned on me.

"See to your sister," she ordered as she grabbed my hair and twisted, throwing me to the ground.

I had the satisfaction of seeing blood bloom between Louise's fingers as she clutched at her face. Please let her nose be broken. Elizabeth raised the switch and added an extra blow while I lay in the compacted dirt.

I swallowed the cry, but couldn't hide the wince.

Elizabeth breathed hard as she pointed the switch at me. "You either come with me, or Alice will take your place."

No. Not Alice. I would endure anything to protect my family. Between one breath and the next, I made a vow to do whatever it took to bring Elizabeth down. I would be the instrument of her destruction; I just needed to figure out how.

I rose on unsteady feet and followed her lead. Step by step, she pulled me to the stables and thrust me into an empty stall. I staggered back against the wood and metal jangled. Beside my head, hanging from the tie up ring, dangled chains and shackles. She had prepared in advance for my punishment.

She snapped the cuffs around my wrists and stood back.

"You will stay here while we attend the ball. I will deal with you in the morning." Her eyes narrowed and gleamed like a rodent's in the half-light. "But wouldn't it be most unfortunate if a vermin found you while you are chained to the wall."

The ice crashed through my body. God, no. Please don't tell me she planned to leave me vulnerable and open to attack? Was her core so rotten that she could commit such evil?

I pulled at the chain, but it slid through the ring and wouldn't come free. The shackles were too tight to wiggle my wrists from their prison. I was stuck. Pain and despair flowed over my limbs, and tears finally ran down my face.