Faces of the Wind

Chapter 42

Slowly, Adrian wrapped the blanket around his waist as he slid out of bed. He then put on his trousers and shirt, which he previously laid on the wingchair, and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. Kathleen played with her large curls as she watched him, smiling cheekily.

He walked round the bed to her side and stood there a few seconds, studying her. She looked up at him, still half-lying on her right side, her elbow pressed against the pillow. With a swift move, he grabbed her by the hair forcefully. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened in a combination of horror and pain. Her hands reached over her head in an attempt to free her scalp, but his grip was unyielding. He bent over and, from between clenched teeth, hissed in her ear, "Listen, bitch!" She met his gaze and her heart pounded loudly. A scowl puckered his forehead, a few unruly curls fell over it. His eyes were high-strung, unquiet and bore an immense amount of darkness. They were the eyes of a demon ready to spill blood.

"You blackmailed the wrong person!" He said – his breath against her ear and neck gave her goosebumps, "Blab as you wish, but first, put your damn clothes on and get the hell out of my room before I crush your little empty head." He released her with a strong shove, making her fall on the bed face down. He then walked to the window, a look of disgust on his face. She rose, covering her bare breasts with one arm and her crotch with her other hand until he turned to peer out the window, hands on the windowsill.

Shaken, she hurried out of bed and began to dress clumsily. Her hands trembled as she strapped her corset. It felt like an arduous task that is impossible to finish in haste.

She opened the door just enough for her to sneak out and did not bother to close it behind her. Adrian's jaws were still clenched and his temples throbbed. His mind was blank yet he could not see through the window's glass—not because it was dark outside, but because anger has dulled his vision.

There were distressed screams from downstairs—it was Kathleen's voice—followed by shrieks and other noises made by the crowd of guests. He half-turned his head and stared at the door, unable to make out what anyone was saying down there. The crowd was getting noisier with the second. His deep frown cleared and was replaced by an expression of horror and confusion. He swallowed and his heart began to thump. Whatever was happening downstairs did not feel right.

***

"I must kill the bastard!" Joshua yelled as he ran upstairs swelled with anger and holding a pistol in his hand. Part of the crowd ran after him, pretending to want to stop him when all they were after was a good story to entertain their acquaintances and families in future occasions. The women stayed in the hall making all kinds of displeased sounds, both fake and honest, while Kathleen sat on a sofa pretending to be distressed.

In the upper storey, Joshua opened the doors to the rooms one by one, furious. "Where are you, you little rascal – you – you cross-breed?" He yelled in his quest to find his adversary. He came to a door that was already open and heard someone shout inside, "You fool! You could've broken your neck jumping like that from here!"

He pushed the half-open door with his bulky body and saw Phillip standing at a widely open window with flying curtains. The draught from the window was chilly but pleasant. Phillip turned and saw a red-faced Joshua at the door and behind him were several of the male guests. He suppressed a laugh then said, "The fool has escaped through the window," he paused when he felt a giggle about to escape then pulled his most serious face and continued, "I can no longer see him out there in the dark. Maybe if you hurry, you might catch him. I bet he isn't far gone."

A woman snatched the pistol from Joshua's hand, rendering the male audience silent. It was the skinny lady Phillip has been courting. She had such strong hands though they looked soft and fragile like any other lady's.