One refuses to speak to Charles. One refuses to look at Charles. One refuses to tell him about ones outrageous plan (although that would spoil the fun anyway). One refuses to answer his infernal questions. One is sick of Charles! There is no love left in my heart for him, I do not believe there was any there in the first place; only lust.
His money, status and reputation excited me, and my looks excited him no doubt. And now we are both trapped in a loveless marriage, how dreadfully sad.
How lucky Catherine is, I know she adores her husband and he dotes on her, she is treated better than Queen Victoria herself around him! And they have two beautiful children, Helena and Joseph whom she also adores; life must be so perfect.
I turned towards the window and let a single tear streak through make-up so heavy that it was left unaffected. I would not let Charles see me cry...
“Are you crying darling?” Charles asked, putting a hand on my red dress.
“Oh leave me alone Charles, for goodness sake!” I shook free of his touch, angry at him for having caught me.
“Please Freda dear, listen to me, I know you are worried about money, but there really is no need, I’m on the edge of a huge windfall I swear!” He said.
I turned on him in the confined carriage and I felt one of my infamous tempers coming on. “That is what you said three months ago Charles! And since then we nearly lost the house; you lost our money! No, you lost my money, by the time you married me, all of yours was already gone! Your Father had to pay for our wedding!” I shrieked bitterly.
My husband turned very pale. “How the Devil do you know that?”
I sat next to him, shaking and white with rage. So overcome was I with fury that I could not speak. My breathing was shaky and my glare evil.
He was silent until one had calmed down and managed to say evenly, “I appealed desperately to your Father last month. I told him that you were a no good gambler and that our financial state was dire. It was around the time that I thought we would lose the house, and he paid off the land workers that month after witnessing me weep.”
Charles was red with anger as I knew he would be. “What, you did what? How dare you? How dare you, you God-damned fool?”
For a moment I thought he was going to hit me and I shrunk back from him, but then the carriage stopped and I saw our house outside the condensated windows. I scrambled out and ran inside and up to our bedroom, hoping he would not follow me.
Planning my outrageous plan would just have to wait...
YOU ARE READING
Black Road to Heaven
Historical FictionIt's Victorian Britain and no-one wants to know about black homeless girl Emily. She has only one friend in the world, Sam the Market Man (well, boy really) and one impossible dream; that the rich woman on Baker Street somehow turns out to be her Mo...
