Athenia's Choice (ON HOLD)

Athenia's Choice: Chapter Six

Chapter Six

The world seemed to slow down around me. My eyes darted everywhere, giving away the fact I was terrified, anxious. My cheeks started burning the same colour as my hair; I could feel the heat like the coals on a fire. Of course, I wasn’t going to tell Charles how we got the money. Never. I hated the thought of telling him an untruth so instead I just murmured back:

“Umm, umm, that will be my parent’s business.” I then turned my back on him, pinching myself, telling myself not to give anything away.

“Oh come off it, Athenia, dear, everyone knows your mother was a kitchen maid before you all struck lucky.” Charles’ face was one of curiosity, yet there seemed to be a newfound slyness in his eyes when he put particular emphasis on the word ‘lucky’, rolling his tongue.

“She was only poor because her inheritance money was stolen when she came over from Italy,” I retorted angrily, although I had no right whatsoever to tell Mama’s business to a handsome young gallivant who took me on boat rides! I hated Mama for being so weak but I would defend her. And how come he wanted to know anyway, the nosy and interfering idiot!

“Are you mad at me, Athenia?” Charles’ voice was soft, injured.

Then I looked back at his kind, caring face and my anger melted away instantly. I shook my head fiercely, worried I had upset him. I could never be angry at him. It was my choice to tell him things anyway.

We finished the food and rowed further upstream, where the waters were tossing about back and forth, awkwardly scattered rocks jagging out everywhere. The rocking boat suddenly smashed against the side of the bank.

“Charles-” I began to warn him but by then water was sweeping into the boat, through a hole punctured by the rock. I let out a scream, totally losing my head, fear paralysing me. Charles scooped me up, even though I must have been heavier because of my sodden dress hem, and he jumped into the water, still clutching me.

I was shivering as we rolled onto the unkempt tangled grass, getting our breath back. We watched the broken boat upturn and be carried away by the turbulent waters. I always seemed to have accidents when Charles was around!

Charles said we had a choice to either find the nearest road, or walk back to where his horse was tethered. I went for the second option. We were in the middle of endless amounts of trees, hills, and fields; I doubted we would find a road!

The walk back was uncomfortable in our sodden clothes and squelchy shoes. We kept by the path near the river, chatting about all sorts and making each other laugh. The journey took twice as long as it needed to since we got lost through a dense forest of fir trees. We were both grateful when we reached Charles’ patient horse.

Other horse riders, village folk, and people in carriages gave us a few funny looks as we came out of the unsettlingly peaceful valley. As we passed a small church set in the top of a grassy mound, I wondered, as I heard the bell clang, about all the weddings that had taken place there. I smiled secretly, for I was already visualising my own!

As we came to the fork in the path (left to Tunbridge Wells, right to Bodiam), I begged Charles to let me stay at his house. He frowned, raking his long fingers through his hair.

“Please, don't take me back there,” I whispered, twirling a lock of my greasy reddish-brown hair round my finger. I could see Charles deliberating, but with regret in his eyes, he pulled the stallion down the path to Bodiam. My heart sank, and tears welled in my eyes. When I tried to get off, Charles asked me where I would go. He said I needed a plan, provisions and money, if I was not to end up on the streets or the workhouse. The thought of the workhouse made me clutch tighter around his waist.

Time stretched on until the horse’s pace slowed down, for the castle was in sight. We clambered off. Luckily, the rope and basket were still at the foot of the tower. Charles gave me a quick peck on the cheek, making my body tremble.

“I will come for you, and we will run away, I promise, just not today.” I wanted to throw a tantrum and demand why not today? Using the basket and rope, Charles was able to lift me back to my room. I waved goodbye,  as he rode away. There was some little hope inside me.

I thought that everything was going to be fine, until the lock on my door clicked.

There stood Father, fuming red, hands on hips with such dominance. My still damp clothes were obvious evidence I had escaped the tower. Father paced the room. I bit my lip, fearfully.

“You regret your words now, do you not?” I asked. Our eyes connected, and for a single moment, we were both transported to the past, and what he had said, 7 years ago.

“You’ve always been a troublemaker, even then you were eavesdropping! Just look what you’re turning into!” he fumed, his beady eyes glaring at me.

“A monster?” I suggested, and was told off for answering back. I took a great deal of pride in telling him how I escaped, elaborating creatively about climbing down the wall in my undergarments so as to not rip my dress! I wanted him to sense I was lashing out, angry, on the edge of destruction.

My stomach grumbled; I was very hungry. Father pulled the basket and rope in, shaking his head at the broken window. I stared out to the gathering sunset; the time I spent with Charles had gone too quickly.

“I will just have to prevent you from getting out anymore, you disgraceful girl!” he bellowed. I started panicking, when I saw the malicious look in his eyes. I tried to wriggle away as he grabbed my hands, but I received a slap on the thigh that made me yelp in pain, and stopped struggling. I found, to my utter annoyance, he had locked me back up in the room with my hands tied together!

*****

A few hours later, Mariettia was sent to bring me some dinner. Her eyes looked pitiful. She had to feed the lumpy cheese, bread, and milky pudding to me herself. When she gave me a glass of water to sip, I dribbled down my dress like an invalid. I started crying, all my emotions getting too much for me to handle. Mariettia bought out a hankie and dabbed at my eyes.

“Please don’t cry, Theeny,” she begged, also pulling from her pocket a silver comb. She began to rake through my hair gently, which was very thoughtful of her. I heard Mama calling for Mariettia a few minutes later and we both sighed.

“Oh Theeny, please do stop behaving badly for I hate to see you all tied up!” Mariettia pleaded, with eyes full of sorrow. I wanted to cry out and say it was Father behaving badly, slapping me, but I fell silent, drained of energy.

“It’s my choice,” I responded stubbornly as Mariettia hugged me then ran out the lonely room. It must have been Mama who locked the door, but she didn’t peer in or even say anything to me. That hurt a lot, knowing she was ignoring me like the oldest, dustiest book in the library. I’m nothing special, sorry, I forgot.

I felt so alone and lost. I just wanted to break free from Mama’s over-protectiveness and be with the person I wanted to be with…