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Wren

My mouth was dry as my eyes flicked over the papers. My chest ached as I thought of Eddie penning the very letters I was staring at. It seemed out of character for him to ask such a thing, and yet, I understood why he did. There was no one here that he could trust - he had no contacts, no other recourse. And if I was to be rescued, it had to be legal in every way.

My hands shook, my knees trembled, and my very being seemed to be made of fear. I could taste it in my mouth, hear it in my pulse, and feel it in my limbs. But you can't be brave it you aren't afraid, and I was determined to be so.

I needed to plan this carefully. I hardly ever went to the study, so I must have an excuse at the ready. Beyond that, if I were to steal the needed papers, I should copy them so I wouldn't immediately be found out. How to do all of these things in a short amount of time was the difficulty.

I knew I could not depend on anyone to help me. Maria of course was loyal, as was her husband, Jerry. But it would cost them their livelihoods and their reputation should we be found out. They had been so kind to me, and repaying them with such consequences was nothing short of cruel.

And yet, the idea of escape was so tantalizing! Richard had become unbearable. He was bold and daring, and had been less than discreet a number of times. Almost every night he came to my room, forcing me to please him. Without mercy, without feeling, he took everything I held dear and crushed it to dust beneath his feet.

I needed to find anything of importance that my Aunt had kept, or I would be subjected to more than Richard's unkindness. I would be killed.

The knowledge that Aunt Matilda could possibly be the employer of the assassin sent chills up my spine. I knew she was cold and haughty, but I didn't suspect her hatred to dive so deep. Ignoring me and scolding me were bearable slights. But conspiring to murder me, take my inheritance, my name, and perhaps even my sanity? That was unforgivable.

~

"Wren, you look rather pale, let me assist you to your room," Richard smirked, finding me in the entry.

The foyer of the house was large, and there was almost always someone coming or going, whether it be the servants or one of the family. There was a bench tucked out of the way, but I used it often after venturing out of doors, and sometimes downstairs. I had taken residence there for the past quarter of an hour, as I began to formulate my plan.,

The servants didn't think it odd, and my family certainly didn't notice, unless of course, it benefited them. However, nobody thought anything of Richard "helping" me up to my room either. Terror gripped me, keeping me quiet and timid.

Richard was athletic, and made it upstairs fairly quickly, grinning happily at me. We both knew that after luncheon everyone quietly did their own business, whether it was resting in their room, writing letters, doing business, or going into town. Nobody would be looking for me until tea time.

Tears pricked my eyes, but Richard didn't hesitate. He threw me on the bed, a sadistic smile growing on his face. My arms and legs were secured, and then he stuffed his handkerchief in my mouth, though we both knew I wouldn't have screamed.

My clothes were violently ripped off of me, one of the buttons from my shirt coming loose and flying across the room. In seconds his body was pressed into mine, suffocating me and causing my heart to race. His hands were all over, making my skin burn as he defiled me. I longed for the gentle, easy touches of Sal or Fletcher in that moment. I wanted the constant affectionate gazes from June or Branson, the ones that warmed me up from the inside out.

Instead, rough lips pushed against mine, teeth catching and snapping down. Richard was the wolf, and I was the innocent rabbit caught in his snare. His hands pressed down against my shoulders as he rubbed our legs together as if we were mere animals. His eyes were lust-blown and primal, filled with carnal desire and not caring how he acquired it.

"You're so pretty, Wren. A little bird that can't get free, no matter how he tries. It's rather adorable, I must say," Richard growled against me, licking down my neck.

Tears leaked down my cheeks. I wanted to escape but had no means to do so. My hands were tied down with the curtain sashes, and my feet were similarly bound. Richard suddenly snapped his belt from his waist, a dark look on his face. Cinching it tight around my neck, he pulled it tight. I knew it would bruise, just like my ankles and wrists, but my collar and necktie would cover all the atrocities he committed.  My breath caught harshly, causing satisfaction to line every contour of his face. Choking, vision spotting, I vaguely felt him pull down my trousers. 

"So beautiful trussed up for me, Wren," Richard moaned, pulling my undergarments down and revealing me.

His fingers bruised my hips as he entered me. If my voice had not been trained by then, I surely would have screamed from the pain. He split me open, pleasuring himself, fulfilling his own desires as I whimpered and mewled beneath him. The agonizing pain and the sense of loss added to the tears streaming down my cheeks. 

~

Sometime later I came back to myself. The restraints had been removed, as well as the belt and the gag. My body was sore and bleeding, but I knew I had to do something or someone would find me in such a state, and then things would get even worse. Besides, I still had an office to break into. 

The mere thought of walking had tears stinging the corners of my eyes. I nearly collapsed as I planted my feet on the ground. My abdomen felt like a knife had been sewn inside, and it was ripping me apart from within. My legs were bruised and sore, and dark prints outlined on my thighs, hips, and stomach.  The mirror revealed a red mark around my neck, puffy,  bloodshot eyes, and a streaked face. 

As quickly as I could manage, I took care of the sheets, my attire, and then finally, my appearance. My hair was tangled into knots, but a stiff combing did the trick. I rinsed my face and cooled my eyes, which also helped some. With my shirt cuffs and collar covering my wrists and neck, no one would be the wiser. 

Well. Hardly anyone. 

If the lads were here, they would have known something was wrong instantly. They said that my eyes were innocent and revealing, and all they had to do was look at me. Which, I guess, explained why nobody ever knew when I was hiding or lying about something here. They were too self-absorbed and busy ignoring my very existence.

At dinner, I noticed that Mr. Kendrick seemed...not himself. He kept glancing at me every now and again, and he seemed almost cold to Aunt Matilda. But then he seemingly caught himself and put things to rights again. When Richard, Mr. Kendrick, and I were left to our devices while the women retired to the drawing room, things got quiet. Richard filled his pipe while Mr. Kendrick filled his glass with sherry.

"So, what do you find so attractive about my sister, Annette?" Richard asked in a blase manner.

Mr. Kendrick stared at me strangely, lips pulled thinly against his teeth, "I love how she smiles, and the color of her eyes. I love how she thinks and talks about things, and how much she can convey in a single glance. But I love her most for what others pass over."

The two continued to talk, but his words kept running through my head. Not a single one of those things seemed connected to her at all. In fact, it was quite odd. Richard simply sneered and moved on to the next thing. But me? I felt that Mr. Kendrick had told me something of import, if only I could puzzle out his meaning.

"Shall we join the ladies?" Richard finally proposed after a quarter of an hour. 

"Of course!" Mr. Kendrick agreed.

I followed meekly behind, trying to become invisible. I was safest when I went unseen. But just as I entered the drawing room, I felt a hand sneak into my pocket. Surprised, I felt the crinkle of paper beneath my fingertips. What was this then?

1, 443 words

What did Mr. Kendrick leave Wren?

Do you think Wren is smart to be cautious, or should he throw it to the wind in favor of getting the heck out of the Beckham Estate?

 What do you think of this chapter?

I felt like it was a slower chapter, but at the same time, several things have happened that will let the rest of the story fall into place smoothly. 

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