A Shattered Heart - NaNoWriMo13 Entry

Chapter 3 - Doppelganger

*Chapter Three – Doppelganger*

Just as Christian had finished disposing of his latest victim a young blonde woman walked in front of him ‘Elizabeth?’ he whispered, the girl turned around just as Christian took hold of her upper arms so that he could stare into her beautiful emerald green eyes ‘um I think you may have got the wrong person, my name isn’t Elizabeth it’s Veronica’ the woman tried to break free from his grasp but when she noticed his icy blue eyes she stopped struggling and was instead hypnotised by the colour. Something about them was drawing her to him, something in her mind was telling her not to walk away from this mysterious stranger but find out as much as she could about him.

‘No you have to be her! You look exactly the same’ Christian was almost shouting at the woman which exasperated her to the point of shouting back ‘I look like who!’ ‘Elizabeth. Elizabeth Monet’ Veronica’s face dropped at the statement which confused Christian ‘what’s wrong’ he released his grip on Veronica’s arms. ‘I have a relative that was called Elizabeth Monet, she was tricked into killing herself by a witch’ by now Veronica’s eyes were shining with pent up anger. Christian thought this peculiar how both his beloved Elizabeth and Veronica’s ancestor Elizabeth were both killed in the same way, they couldn’t be… could they?

But Veronica quickly snapped Christian out of his reverie by suggesting ‘why don’t you tell me what your Elizabeth was like? How did you meet her?’ A gleam spread across Christian’s face but just as he began speaking he felt the violent buzzing of his BlackBerry in his jeans pocket, his confusion was apparent as he glanced over the four words from the anonymous text message ‘GET OUT OF THERE!!!!’ but typically of Christian he chose to be defiant and switched the phone off before shoving it back into his pocket.

Veronica prompted him to continue with his story and once again Christian’s eyes gleamed in the moonlight as he remembered the day that he met his beloved Elizabeth…

300 years previously…

‘What was that?’ Christian could have sworn he heard a noise. He listened closely but when he realised the sound wasn’t going to repeat itself he settled back into his arm chair to continue reading his book… that is until he heard the noise again. This time the noise was louder and it only took him a few seconds to realise that the noise was coming from the front door. Christian didn’t want to bother waking up a member of staff to open the door so instead he did it himself and standing in the pouring rain was a pitiful peasant girl with her tatty dress clinging to her soaked body and a threadbare shawl draped over her delicate shoulders. But that was not what caught his attention, instead it was the number of cuts and bruises that polluted her body, ‘please sir, help me’ was all she could manage to croak out before collapsing from exhaustion at Christian’s feet.

Christian swiftly scouted the surroundings but when he realised there was nobody else around he carefully lifted the woman into his arms and carried her into the drawing room before lowering her onto the Chaise Longue. Although he didn’t want to, he felt it would be best if one of the female staff attended to her so he raced upstairs to wake Mélanie; she scurried back down the stairs throwing on a dressing gown as she went.

Mélanie fetched a flannel and warm water from the kitchen and brought it back to the young lady who was beginning to wake up ‘bonjour Mademoiselle, je m’appelle Mélanie. Comment tu t’appelles?’ the young lady stared at Mélanie in confusion, obviously she couldn’t speak French. Christian smirked before translating ‘she said hello miss, her name is Mélanie and she was asking what your name is’ ‘oh, my name is Elizabeth Money. I’m afraid my French is very limited at the moment since I’ve only just moved here from Louisiana’ came the young lady’s shy reply as she fiddled with her broken fingernails.

‘If it is any consolation, I have lived here for almost ten years and even I have not mastered the language just yet’ Christian’s confession made Elizabeth giggle ‘Mélanie, could you please get Miss Monet something to eat and drink… oh and possible check to see if there is enough hot water for her to have a relaxing bath’ Mélanie nodded her head then hurried into the kitchen. As Christian observed Elizabeth’s body his curiosity finally got the better of him ‘Miss Monet, if I may ask as to why you are covered in cuts and bruises’ Elizabeth’s emerald green eyes brimmed with unshed tears as they met Christian’s icy blue ones ‘my husband was very abusive and tonight I had, had enough so I picked up the courage to leave him although he caught me and beat me worse than he has ever beat me before… he raped me! I could not push him off since he was too strong. I had to get away from him so I grabbed the first thing I could and hit him over the head with it. He collapsed on top of me but I was able to wriggle out from under him and make my escape; I ran and ran and I was so fortunate to find this house since I knew I could not run anymore as I was so tired’ by now small scolding tears were cascading down her cheeks and landing on her upturned palm.

Christian carefully placed his hand on her cheek and used his thumb to carefully brush off the remaining tears before gently turning her head so that she was facing him ‘I will not let anyone hurt you anymore.’ At that moment Mélanie re-entered the room carrying a tray with two crystal goblets and some home brewed red wine which she lowered to the table before scurrying back to the kitchen only to return a few seconds later carrying a second tray with an assortment of food. This tray was also placed onto the table, ‘supper my Lord’ Mélanie smiled before taking her leave from the room and making her way back up the stairs to her bedroom.

‘Would you join me in a glass of home brewed wine?’ Christian asked holding up the newly opened bottle to which Elizabeth raised her glass ‘yes thank you Mr…’ only to realise that she did not know his name. ‘Oh, how rude of me to forget to introduce myself, my name is Lord Christian Bouchard’ Christian bowed his head in an overly exaggerated manner which made Elizabeth giggle once more. ‘Please help yourself to food’ Christian gestured to the tray in front of them, ‘thank you Lord Bouchard’ she grabbed a small bunch of grapes, ‘please, Lord Bouchard sounds so formal, you must call me Christian’ as he spoke he too grabbed some food but he decided upon a piece of baguette which he filled with slices of the finest ham.

The conversation flowed easily between the two until Christian realised the time ‘it’s late, would you like me to show you to the guest quarters?’ ‘thank you’ Elizabeth linked her arm through his as she stood from her seat. The two of them then made their way up the stairs and walked to the end of the corridor where Christian stopped at one of the doors, ‘this will be your bedroom for as long as you like, there is plenty of hot water in case you would like to bathe and there should also be some nightwear in the drawers so feel free to help yourself’ Christian held open the door as Elizabeth glided into the room, ‘thank you sir, you are very kind.’ Christian  took hold of her hand and tenderly kissed her knuckles, ‘I only wish I could do more but for now I will bid you goodnight and allow you to retire for the evening’ he insisted bowing his head. Elizabeth smiled and slowly closed the door when Christian began walking away down the corridor.

Once she was alone she lit some candles and looked around the room, she was not used to such exquisite furnishings or décor so it all made here feel as though she did not belong there despite the warm welcome she had received earlier that evening. However, she did not dwell on it and instead made her way into the conjoining bathroom where she swiftly ran herself a relaxing bath with soothing warm water, various bath oils and to finish it off a selection of different types of rose petals which were located in a porcelain bowl on the edge of the bath. She unlaced the tatty, old, torn dress that was clinging to her curvaceous body and allowed it to fall to the floor in a pool at her feet. She submerged her body into the water and breathed deeply allowing the aroma of the bath oils to fill her nose.

As she glanced at the water a smirk tugged its way at the corner of her lips; the water was now cloudy with the remnants of the ‘bruises’ that had previously covered her body and as each mark washed away she thought about how pleased he would be with her once her task was complete and they would be free.

Oh how she longed for that day to come.

Back to the present day at the bonfire…