Born to Run

Chapter 11: Hints of a Monster

Esme awoke, quite expecting to find herself in Mr Mansfield’s bed. She quickly opened her eyes, and sighed with relief as she saw that she was alone, back in her room. How had she got there?

It all replayed in Esme’s mind as she recounted the night before. She had come out of Lizzie’s room, and there he had been, staring. The last thing she remembered was darkness. Obviously it had been too much, and she had fainted. “Weak imbecile,” she chided herself quietly as she dressed. “Fainting like that… he must not know that you are a willow in the wind! He must think that you are iron that will not bend to his will!”

Esme knew that this would only be a mask, however… Her strength in spirit was low already. But Julian Mansfield must not know that! Men like him preyed upon the weaknesses of women!

The thought of eventually succumbing to his wishes made her shiver. Of course, he was not exactly ugly… No, he was very handsome. Esme had not liked the sensation that coursed through her when she had seen him last night, wanting her. He gave into temptation whenever he was given the opportunity, but she would not.

Brushing her long hair, she looked in the mirror. A perfect beauty did not look back. What did he see, anyway? Esme sighed. “Good morning, Miss Goldworth,” she whispered, closing the door behind her as she headed out for breakfast.

It was busy in the mess hall that morning. According to a talkative maid who sat beside her, new bodyguards for the King and his court had arrived the night before. “Soldiers, they are,” the

maid was saying, eyeing the red-coated men who sat up front. “And they are eating with us to-day!”

Her attention had been caught. Would Ken be among them? She craned to get a better view of the soldiers, hoping that maybe a face would turn to hers and call out: “Sister!” Fighting the flurry of activity in the room, Esme’s vision focused on a tall and burly brown-haired man, whose back was to her. His neighbour was telling him something amused, and he turned to him and laughed. She gasped. That profile! Esme longed to jump up and run to him, screaming Ken’s name. He was here! After five long and hard years, they were in the same room! She stood swiftly, taking care to knock over her cup of milk. “Oh my,” she said, noticing the attention that her “accident” had received. “I must get more.” Esme picked up the empty cup, and hurried over to where the kitchen was: right in front of Ken’s table. She refilled her cup, and stood directly before Ken, smiling. He glanced at her, and then looked away. Her spirit fell. He did not recognize her! But then, Ken took a double take. He smiled. It seemed as though he was not as surprised to see her!

Kenneth jerked his chin sideways, meaning that they should talk outside. She nodded, and followed him out the door. “Ken!” she cried when they had escaped the busy hall. “How?”

He embraced her tightly. “Oh, Esme, it is so good to see you. I thought I’d never see you again.”

Esme looked confused. “But I’ve always been here--how did you get here?”

“I was posted as a bodyguard.” He replied. “And you? Mama said that you were a music teacher! For the advisor’s daughter, even!” Ken grinned. “My little sister. The farmer’s wives would never

believe it!”

Laughing, she swatted her brother’s arm. “Ken! Stop it this instant! I am grown now!”

He straightened, smile disappearing. “Indeed, madam,” he said in mock respect. “Beg your pardon, miss.”

She rolled her eyes. “Kenneth Goldworth!”

The grin reappeared. “Have you met the family?”

Esme nodded, and Ken returned to seriousness, this time for real. “You must take care, Esme. There are people out to hurt you.”

This confused his sister once more. “Ken?”

He bowed, and left.

What?

(#)

Morton watched the reunion of sister and brother from a window above the mess hall. Any bystander would smile at this spectacle. It was quite heart-warming, really, unless you were Morton Mansfield. No, he looked upon the scene with a dark scowl. This was not supposed to happen!

Obviously the King had seen the girl’s striking features. He had looked so pale when he first saw her! Undoubtedly, he had not made the connection. Well, not yet, anyway.

He thought he had cut off all of the contacts. Did the boy know anything? He would’ve only been a child when it happened. He had been too young to contemplate such an event, probably. Maybe the boy might’ve forgotten the details. Maybe the darkness was still veiled by the light of time.