Y O U R C R U C I B L E
"May you be in heaven a full half hour before the devil knows you're dead."
Lottie Thorne, sister of the notorious Freddie Thorne, is counted as part of the Shelby family. And her loyalty is...
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"I could have loved you forever"
A man's warm fingertips pressed against Lottie's wrist, checking her pulse. The beats were strong. The kind face of the doctor looked sadly at her, and her sadly back. He'd asked how it had happened, how she'd received the injuries to the back of her head. James had told him that Lottie had fallen down the stairs when he first arrived, but the doctor asked her once again when James had left.
"I fell down the stairs," lied Lottie, but her blue eyes were large and begging, hoping he'd see passed her words. "It was an accident." She didn't trust that one of the maids that were besotted by James weren't listening at the door.
He looked at her sadly and she knew that he didn't believe her words, and she was grateful. Before he stood to leave, she clutched onto his arm. The doctor understood and he sat beside her and asked in a quiet voice, "What is it?"
"Would you be able to bring me something?" she whispered.
"What?"
"I have trouble sleeping," she said. "I've not slept for weeks. Would you be able to bring me something - something strong to help me? Please don't tell my husband of my request. I..." She stared meaningfully at him. "I don't want him to worry."
The doctor nodded. "Of course. I'll bring you something to help."
Lottie smiled weakly. "Thank you," she murmured, fresh tears filling her eyes.
As promised, the doctor arrived and as soon as they were alone, he passed her a vial wordlessly. She hid it inside the pocket of her nightdress.
That was the last time she saw him. Lottie didn't want the doctor to leave, she wanted him to stay. She never once in her life wanted a protector, but she did then. Desperately. But James sent the man away. She'd stared after him terrified, her eyes wide. She saw a flash of worry on his expression, but James was quick to make him disappear.
The doctor had stitched up the back of her head where she'd cracked it on the stairs. He had said she was lucky she didn't fall forwards as she could have badly harmed the baby. She was fortunate. After a weeks bedrest, the doctor declared that she had physically recovered, and that was enough for James.
Every night, Lottie made sure to drop some sleeping drops in her whiskey so that she was assuredly fast asleep before James would come to bed. She didn't want to be near him at all, but she knew she had no choice in their sleeping arrangement so at least she could be unconscious. Lottie lay on the bed the afternoon sun lighting up the room, her arms cradling her bump. She hid the bottle away in her night gown, terrified about the day when it would be empty. Freddie was to be taken away to some orphanage where James could still use him as insurance for Lottie's good behaviour and her baby-to-be was to be sent away as well and they were to say the baby died in childbirth. Alone, she cried more tears than she had ever cried before.
