My Rogue Lord

Chapter 16

"I believe I explicitly informed you to break the wedding with that rogue. Only the Lord knows what he sees in you as it is." She spat bitterly, the grip she held on her daughter's arm tightening.

  "Mother, I have no say in the matter, as you are well aware of. You wanted my contract to be made with Lord Abbot whereas father wants me wed to Lord Rivers. Not once was I asked for my opinion." Katherine answered stoically, her hunter gaze void of all emotion.

  Katherine felt the sting of her mother's palm as her face tilted to the right, but even then, her expression remained neutral, her eyes empty as she watched her mother passively. Her mother would never know, or even if she were to know, she would never care, of the hurt she caused.

  "You bint! Do not forget I am your mother." Savannah snarled as she shoved Katherine away from her.

   Katherine took in a sharp breath as she was thrown against the edge of the dressing table, her hip throbbing in white hot pain. Katherine did not know which was worst, the ringing in her ears, the fact she couldn't feel the right side of her face, or the pain in her hip.

  "Get up!" Her mother shouted through gritted teeth as she pulled on Katherine's arm.

  She bit down on her lower lip until she tasted blood, she could no longer feel her arm.

  "Remember your place while you are in my presence."

  "Aye mother." Her voice was a soft whisper, physically, nor mentally, was she able to say any more.

   "I have already prepared your dance card for the night, and you shall abide by it. Make certain that rogue does not come anywhere near you. This wedding shall not take place, if it's the last thing I do."

  Savannah let go of Katherine's arm, giving it a final squeeze before doing so.

  "Leslie, leave my daughter. As punishment for her  atrocious behavior she can dress herself."

   Katherine waited until her mother left before walking towards the door and putting the lock in place. Then, she walked towards the floor length looking glass, and ever so slowly, began to undress herself until not a stitch of clothing remained on her person. Dressing herself was not a punishment, with the amount of time she was not allowed to bring her lady's maid with her, she had become accustomed to it.

  She cast a glance at her hair which was piled high atop her head. Earlier, Annabelle had made tight ringlets into her fair hair. Katherine had never liked her hair until that moment. Her mother on the other hand had been anything but pleased. She ordered Leslie to pile her hair atop her head, time was short, but the ringlets had to be covered.
     Half her face was a lovely shade of angry red, but even now, Katherine could see the purple trying to creep in.
     Her gaze lowered to her upper left arm, where her mother had grabbed her. It was no longer a tender shade of red. In its place was an ugly purple, promising to be as painful as it looked. Katherine did not bother with the tedious task of glancing at herself in the mirror, it would only make her more upset. She was only to look at her wounds. She looked towards her hip, letting out a defeated sigh as she did so. For there was a deep cut which allowed her life's essence to flow freely down her legs to the tips of her toes. Katherine bend down to retrieve her chemise and began to wipe away the blood. A week prior to arriving at the Rivers estate Katherine had angered her mother while she was holding a knife. In her anger her mother 'accidentally' plunged the knife to Katherine's hip. A healer had been called and she was sewn right away, but even the strongest of stitches must be dealt with care. Her stitches had reopened, thus the blood. Sadly, Katherine was no healer, she did not know what to do.
   She took slow steps towards the basin in the room, and using the water already there, cleaned the stain of blood which was left behind. Katherine hissed slightly when the damp cloth came into contact with her wound.
   Taking in a deep breathe, Katherine bend forward slightly to better see her wound. Some of the stitches were still intact, only a few being ripped. There was nothing she could do about it at the moment.
   She walked to her bed and looked at the gown laid out for her along with her mask. An unflattering shade of gold with an equally dull mask. All her life she had tried her hardest to please her mother, doing everything she was told without question.
   One hot tear slid from her right eye until it reached her chin.
    But it mattered very little to her mother. No matter  how hard she tried, or what she did, her mother cared not.
   Another scorching tear cascaded down her cheek.
   Why should she continuously listen to her mother? Not listening to her would opt in the same results. If the results are to be the same, then why not choose to do as she pleases?