Chapter Ten
Annette paced wildly around her room, eyes bloodshot and sore from hours of crying. Every now and then she drew a hand up to her mouth to suppress the whimpering sounds that kept threatening to come out. She'd chewed her fingernails down to stubs as she contemplated her situation. Even now, hours after the initial act, she still felt as if teetering over the edge of a cliff. It was too much. This was madness surely, she thought whilst casting a side eyed glance towards her bedroom door. In her wildest dreams she had fantasized of hurting that man. Making him feel the same kind of agony that he had inflicted on her so many times before; it had given her such a sick satisfaction imagining it! But now she felt nothing but regret. Somehow drawing blood from the man had failed to bring her any of the joy she imagined it would. Instead it had given her a sense of doom. Raw, adrenaline induced fear that mad her wild-eyed and wide awake. She listened to the sound of stirring. Though footsteps pattered down the hall none of them ever approached her door. News of Lord Derrick's condition remained a mystery, though his health concerned her far less than the state of his mind. "He is going to kill me! I'll hang for this for sure!" she whimpered over and over, burying her hands into her hair until it was a tangled mass. "What am I going to do?"
As wretched as her life had been the prospect of a serious punishment had never crossed her mind before. Annette had rationalized that her suffering would be bodily so long as she resisted Lord Derrick's whims. Inappropriate as his actions were, she had never thought that she would one day find the courage to inflict damage on the man. He was always so much stronger to Annette. Capable and cunning. He manipulated the world around him as if the forces of time and destiny themselves were at his beckon call. Her only hope had been the futile possibility of his boredom settling in. If it had not been for that one moment, when everything about him that scared her, had struck her all in one fleeting jolt, Annette might have never discovered she had such a capability. She'd wounded him. With her own two hands and a candle holder she had done the one thing that nobody else on this earth had the nerve to do to that Lord. But the satisfaction was fleeting.
Now that she was alone she found herself deconstructing the event in intimate detail. The only question left now was what would he do in response to this attack? Her mind betrayed her by running wild and presenting her with all of the possibilities. It was only then that the threat of her actions had truly managed to sink in. Lord Derrick was a powerful man whether she liked to admit this or not. If he wanted it, she was certain he could bribe any jury or judge in the land to make sure she suffered for what she had done. He could easily have her hung for the crime. Or tortured and thrown into prison. Goodness, she anxiously thought, he could have just as easily killed her himself! It would not take much to do it. One quick snap of the neck and the deed was done. Or a few swift strikes with something sharp or hard. So long as the body was dumped and blood and hair were all carefully swept away who would dare question him? Her skin felt like there were bugs crawling all over it. There were worse things she could think of that might be done to her. Torture for example. As long as it left no marks what better way to teach her a lesson.
As she paused by her vanity stand, she caught a glimpse of her disturbed face in the mirror. She looked like a mad woman. Her hair was a mess. Her face was stained with the countless tears that had dripped down it these past few hours. Her eyes were wide and tinted red; a product of her misery that added the unwanted illusion of a disturbed mind. Who was this girl who stared back at her. Her fingertips were shaking as she traced the outline of her face. This was not the girl that she knew. This stranger staring back at her was a broken shell. A woman devoid of any confidence or voice. The fact that she had spent some many hours fighting for her existence, struggling to resist the invasive grasp of a man she despised all seemed so futile now. Where was her spine?! She was sitting here weeping like a child. Backed into a corner and unable to fight back. Picking up a box of powder she growled angrily as she flung it at the mirror. It coated the reflective surface in a thin layer of white, blurring and distorting her image. "What shall become of me now?" She whispered with her shaking palms pressed against the vanity. "If he doesn't kill me he'll simply fulfill his disgusting desires. And I cannot fight him again!" Her eyes fell upon the surface of the table. White powder had landed across the perfume bottles and jewelry box. It clung to everything like dust; making all those pretty trinkets appear duller and less refined. Her hands grazed over the metal drawer handle, feeling as she smoothed away the offending substance.
What was it that she kept in there again? Curiously she tugged in open, daring to have a look inside. Curled up beneath a pile of embroidered handkerchiefs was a long rainbow cord. Like an old friend the sight of it warmed her heart. Yes, that was right. She had been working on it for months now. Her own devious little secret. And somehow, in spite of the fact that it coiled for yards like a garish python, no one had ever manage to detect it in her room. In a fit madness she wrapped her hand around it, feeling it's weight as it rested in her palm. It was magnificent now. A product of stealing countless rolls of yarn and string when nobody else was watching. She hadn't touched it in a few weeks. It had simply become too long. Annette feared it if she made it any bigger she would not be able to tuck it away in drawers for safe keeping and thus she'd retired it to a life in a cluttered drawer where Mandy would not have noticed it. She lifted her gaze to her bedroom window, recalling a story she had read about a young boy in prison who used the sheets from his bed and to make a daring escape from his cell window. It was a wild fantasy of an idea. A fleeting hope, like a bird glimpsing the sky through the bars of its cage. Annette sighed as she took out the rope and unraveled it.
In the story the main hero was arrested and forced to stand trial for a crime he did not commit. Though he pleaded his case, nobody believed anything he had to say. His rival had used his vast wealth and influence to buy off the judge in charge of his conviction. In the end he was dragged off to a prison cell high in the town of the most wretched hell hole on earth and charged unjustly. His only hope was being able to see outside his window and his will to survive. Desperate for revenge he fought for his freedom one night by hatching a dramatic escape. To her, this part of the story had always resonated very fondly in her mind. The hero was admirable for his actions. He was brave and unwilling to settle for a undeserving fate. When all others turned against him, he took matters into his own hand and found freedom by tearing up a bed sheet and climbing out his window. The book had haunted Annette for days. She reread it fondly several times, amusing herself with the fantasies of her own daring escapes. The book had made her more observant of windows and she had sat for hours gazing off into the sunset and fantasizing about having her own wild adventure. It just wasn't fair to her that the hero's in books got to live out such wild fantasies. In her darkest hours she had dreamt of becoming one of them, and riding herself of her unwanted ties, and now as she lingered there for a while, the idea began to take seed.
It was a bold plot to say the least. One that had never crossed her mind before. To break ties with her wretched life and escape into the world had always seemed like a fleeting dream to Annette. But now she was staring down an uncertain fate in Blackthorn, and perhaps even death if the odds weren't in her favor. Suddenly the plan that had made her feel whimsical seemed like a reality and she contemplated on it for a moment. She pictured herself escaping out the window and into the night. A daring thief, stealing away her very own life as she vanished into the darkness. She imagined the pleasure of feeling the cold on her cheeks and she fled from Blackthorn once and for all. But as her gaze locked upon the window the reality bitterly swept over her mind.
"Curse that foolish book! It is making me go mad. This is foolish!" She whispered as she glanced down at the rope. "Climb out a window at this hour? I'd fall for my death for sure." At that moment she wanted to fling it away. Get rid of it so that the temptation wasn't there. But no matter how hard she tried she could not bring herself to discard her lovely little craft. How many hours, she thought, had she spent making it? To throw it away would have been her confessing that all hope was last, and her efforts were simply a futile waste. Against her better judgment she drifted towards her bedroom window. Mustering every ounce of nerve she had she pushed it open in one fluid motion. It groaned loudly with protest. When she got it open finally she got struck by a cold wind that numbed her cheeks.
It was pitch black outside now but she could see the glow of the city somewhere in the distance. It would be a long walk to get to there, she though to herself, but she had made the trip before. Whatever possessed her now, it was the same force that had compelled her across the muddy fields years ago. Perhaps she had not leapt from a window, but she had escaped from Lord Derricks clutches before. A heavy wind rushed past her, whipping and thrashing her hair violently. Bellow her she could see the moistened grass. It felt so close she thought she could reach out at touch it. A hunger gnawed within her belly, urging her to see her maddening thoughts as a reality. The truth was, this was not some menacing tower in some faraway prison and she was not some helpless bird trapped in a cage. With the window battering against her body she leaned forward, gazing longingly at the ground bellow. The rope was generous enough that she could have glided all the way to the grass bellow with no trouble. Even if she fell the ground was damp enough to soften the fall. With a knot gathering in her stomach she contemplated right there next to her window. Was this possible? Could she survive the fall if the rope did not hold? Or was this simply a passing fit of madness? The longer she stood there the more she resolved herself. "I must try." She whispered with her hands griping the icy windowsill. Even death was worth the risk. If it meant freedom, anything was worth it.
As she stepped away from the window Annette felt the familiar lingering remnants of the cold numbing her exposed hands and face. She searched around her room in a frantic state. "What on earth will I bring though?" she mumbled as she gleamed over every stick of furniture that resided in the room. The only thing she could have brought with her was whatever she could carry. And as pretty as they were, she felt no desire to bring any of the luxuries Lord Derrick had bestowed on her. The silky dresses that hung in together to form a rainbow and the glittering diamond necklaces were all passed over with a mild interest. It was necessity that was on her mind. If she was going to escape then surely she needed to prepare herself. She could not show up in the city dressed like a Queen. Anyone would have been able to pick her out of the crowd. If she was going to run then there were several things that she would be needing. Not because of greed, she told herself, but because of necessity.
First and foremost she would need an outfit that was plain. Something she could use to evade attracting attention. As she dug through her wardrobe, Annette kept her eyes peeled for a glimpse of something that might fit this description. More than once she snagged her hands on the beading of a gown or reluctantly cast aside something too soft and regal looking. Eventually she produced a simple grey ensemble that had a modestly straight skirt and a row of buttons cascading across the front of it. She held it up to the light, then sighed. It would have to do for now. Surely if she was careful nobody would have noticed that it was finely crafted. With her fingers mentally crossed she quickly stripped herself of the gown she'd worn earlier that day and hastily kicked it aside. At that moment she never wanted to look upon it again, for it would always remind her of her terrible mistake. With her back turned to the discarded heap she focused on only one thing; getting dressed. It was a great struggle to put her selected outfit on. Having only her own two hands she struggled for a long time to get herself into it. But with a great amount of grunting and groaning eventually Annette forced it on. "There." She muttered as she smoothed out the wrinkled skirt. "This shall do just nicely."
Next she had to find something to keep her warm. It would take hours to get into the city. And the walk was long and harsh. The bitter cold was assaulting everything it touched outside and would have doomed her to a frosty demise if she ventured out without the proper gear. Any fool would have known that it was a death sentence to brave such weather unprepared. But there were no simple coats in Annette's wardrobe. Just finding one that was not trimmed with fur was a chore in of itself. At last she resolved herself to a thick black assemble, vowing to pawn it when the opportunity arose. Though she had not ventured into the city for some time she recalled from the days of her childhood that there were many places a girl could discard of an unwanted garment. Throwing it one she scooped up the rope, finding that her fingers were shaking with anticipation now. Bit and bit she shed herself of everything that would not aide her in her journey. Her silk stockings were peeled off and replaced with simpler ones. Her shoes, which caused her feet to ache, were exchanged for simple black ones similar to the pair she'd worn as a maid. They were ghastly to look at but comfortable to pad around in. As she noted a scuff on one of them she almost wondered if these were simply those exact same shoes, and that Lord Derrick had preserved them for her.
She could not bring herself to stoop to taking and of the jewelry. Though just a few pieces could have earned her a small fortune the thought of having to steal her way into a new life offended Annette's sense of pride. It would be hard to begin anew without them, she thought, for she had no money of her own, but surely if she used her common sense and wit work would come to her quickly. She would use the money she gained from pawning off the coat and use it to travel far away from here. She would beg and buy a ride if she have to but she would get away from this place. So far away that Lord Derrick would never be able to reach her again. As she finished buttoning up the coat her eyes fell upon the box of jewelry on the vanity once more. It was a shame to leave them all here. With no Lady in the house they'd gather dust in that box forever. The only thing she could bring herself to keep was that ring, which had not left her finger since she had been given it hours before. Though she knew it was wrong still, she could not leave it behind. It was too lovely to deserve the same fate as the rest of the trinkets. Besides, she thought as she snatched up the rope, if I don't get the money I need from the coat I'll need to have a back up.
With her stomach doing somersaults she tied the makeshift rope to the post of her bed. She made sure to knot it twice, tugging at the binds for fear that they might come loose. When she was satisfied she resolved herself to her fate and turned towards the bedroom window. As strange as it seemed Annette could not help but feel a little bit excited as she carefully tossed the rope outside. It dangled just a yard away from the ground, not close enough to promise a safe landing but just enough that her heart leapt into her throat when she saw it fall limply against the side of the building. In some ways this was the embark of a an adventure as well was it not? Crouching on the window ledge she looked down carefully, studying the way the rope was whipped around by the breeze outside. "Now or never." She mentally told herself as she reluctantly griped both hands around the rope. For ten minutes she lingered in that one place; too stubborn to turn back but too frightened to go on. She took a deep breath as she carefully lowered herself outside, surprised to find that she didn't shriek with terror the way she had imagined she would. The rope held tightly as she maneuvered herself along it's length. Inch by inch she climbed her way down, lowering herself closer and closer to the ground. When she had reached the beginning of the lower floor it creaked and groaned in her clutches. Her palms began to sweat with anticipation as she froze in mid climb. There was a sudden snapping sound from above and then without warning she went tumbling down like a rag doll. With a painful thud she landed across the muddy soil, her shoulder sinking into the wet grass beneath her. Her body convulsed with a sharp pain that seized through it. All of the wind had been knocked out of her in that moment and she lay on her side for several minutes just trying to catch her breath again. God it hurt. More than anything else she'd ever experienced before. But when the feeling had passed and her lungs no longer ached at least she could say that without a doubt she was free now.
Annette wanted to run her fingers across the grass in that moment. She wanted to laugh and roll about on the ground no matter how muddy she got. She wanted to scream like a banshee to the wind, and declare to the world at that moment that she had done something just now that she never thought she could. Annette had escaped. With a smile laced across her frozen lips she staggered up onto her feet and quickly hobbled across the grass. The coat stuck to her body like a limp rag, freezing her now that it was dampened by the fall. It didn't matter. Even if it had snowed she would have still raced across that endless field with her arms stretched out. No cold could hold her back now, she had escaped from the worst thing imaginable already. As she scurried through the mud she found herself looking back only once. Blackthorn was completely dark at this hour. Most of the servants had gone to bed. Except for one lonely flickering light on the upper floor the entire mansion appeared to be quiet and blackened by the nightfall. She held her breath as she gazed into the window of it's only lit room, fearing the glimpse of a looming figure. But even as she paused and she stared Annette could see nothing from that source of light. Whomever it was, they had no interest in gazing out at the grounds.
With her resolve quickening once more she began to race wildly away from the manor. Her legs were aching and stiff from the cold but she kept on running. Somehow the thrill of having escaped compelled her when nothing else could. Although she yearned to stop and catch her breath Annette's inner voice kept urging her onwards. It told her to keep running, and to never look back. Not until she'd lost sight of that horrible place. So while others slept soundly in their beds or curled up next to warm fires, a young girl ventured through the darkness on her own. For the first time in years she was completely alone, and somehow this possibility was more frightening to her than she could have ever imagined. Her mind played tricks on her with the shadows that curled and licked around each brooding corner, reminding her of her own vulnerability as she ventured deeper into the city. Her eyes remained peeled, searching for signs of movement. These were not the safest streets a woman could walk. Drunks and hoodlums favored the night hours. When the taverns and pubs grew tired of them, they were tossed outside where they would prowl in search of a woman. In her theater days Annette had heard the stories but dismissed them as poor judgment on the girls part. If a girl was sensible, she'd argued, she would stay home after the late hours. That way no man would beckon for her or mistake her for a simpering harlot. At the time she had thought her reasoning was flawless but she had never anticipated she would one day find herself out and about on her own after nightfall.
By the time she reached the middle of the city several hours had passed by. She felt chilled to the bone at that point but thankful that at least the wind had finally begun to settle. Her feet clattered against the cobblestone streets as she admired the glowing lights that illuminated from houses and shops. Dawn would not come for several more hours, and though Annette yearned for a nice soft bed to curled up into there was no place for her to turn now. Reality sunk in like a bitter pill as she paced by a closed tavern and a row of pad locked stores. It had never crossed her mind until that moment that she had no plan for now. All she had thought of initially was the escape. She focused so much on getting out that she had dimly overlooked what came next. Where would she go now that she had found her way into the everyday rabble? She could not just drift around on the streets forever after all. And the city was unkind to those who did not submit to it. It would not take long for her to starve or wind up the victim of some brutal crime. The streets were too cold and far too harsh for a woman. She needed somewhere to go. A place where she could settle and devise the next part of her plan without feeling Lord Derricks breath on the back of her neck. Then as she walked by a merchants storefront a passing memory of a man she'd danced with at the ball warmed her senses. Yes, Herald Kent was a fond memory to her now. A man who had stepped out of nowhere and offered her kindness. One of the few men to enter he life who ever did. She recalled at that moment that when they were about to part ways he had offered her something. In passing the young Mr. Kent had made mentions of an Inn that resided on the city outskirts where Annette would find welcome if she ever found herself in the area. As she paced impatiently down the dark street she tried she remember what he had called it. Something with a bird she knew. A crow? The black crow perhaps? Sighing she gave her head a shake. No. That wasn't it. The white goose? Her fingers tingled with a vague recollection. Yes that was it. The Grey Goosing; an inn that his fiancé owned and operated.
With her pulse racing wildly Annette contemplated the idea. It was a great risk turning to Herald Kent's fiance for help. She did not know the woman. She could have easily turned out to be one of Lord Derricks admirers for all Annette knew. She would not help a runaway if she was evading the grasp of a Lord she favored. She would turn Annette into the authorities instead and that would have placed her back in the monsters den once more. The stakes were high. There was much to loose on the table now. Her freedom for one thing, but most of all her life. Annette flinched as her toes began to stiffen. Where else could she go instead though? As she rested on top of a wooden crate she mused over the idea. Fate was forcing her hand. Whether she wanted to go or not there wasn't any other person she could turn to now. Annette had re-entered this world with very minimal resources. Her mother was dead. She had no brothers or sisters to turn to. Her Aunt's had betrayed her trust in the past and could no longer be relied upon for help. Most of her former dance troupe had moved on or no longer recalled her name. The Grey Gosling was the only card she had in her hand for the moment, and as she chewed thoughtfully on one of her fingernails she resolved that in the very least she could flee again if things went amiss. As she nestled herself against the nearby wall she felt the warmth return to her legs and arms. Dawn would come soon. She could already hear the chirping of birds in the air. Soon the sky would turn orange and the city would begin to stir. Then she could hatch the second part of her devious plot and begin anew again. For better or for worse she would find The Grey Gosling the next day and she would see what was waiting for her there. Exhausted and shivering, Annette curled herself into a little ball as she looked out at the empty street before her. "One night one the run" she whispered to herself. "Just one night, then I will find a new home". With that she closed her eyes and allowed sleep to embrace her.
