Page 24

CHAPTER 24

LIZZIE

I couldn’t remember how many hours ago I had heard the sound of Richard galloping away on his horse.

Now was not the time to think on what Richard revealed. I couldn’t. I had to stay focused.

This wasn’t real.

Looking around the room for some kind of weapon, I finally decided to break the chamber pot and wrap some fabric I tore off my gown around the end of one sharp piece to create a makeshift knife. I then changed into my nightgown so nothing looked amiss and waited.

Finally, I heard the sound of a key.

I knew it wasn’t Richard. He hadn’t returned from his ride yet. No doubt still filled with rage at my disobedience and ruination of his careful plan to slowly drive me mad as the object of his obsession.

The moment the brunette maid cleared the threshold with my dinner tray, I slammed the door shut and pushed her against the wall. Holding my porcelain blade at her throat, I threatened, “Scream and I’ll slit your throat. I have nothing to lose.”

“What the fuck? Is this part of the script? Because I didn’t sign up for this shit!” she exclaimed.

I eased back a bit but still kept the knife in place. “What script?”

“I can’t tell if you’re acting or not. Fuck, you’re as good as they say.”

“Who are they?”

“The rest of the cast. You know. The servants. I just hired on. Apparently, they had a few recasts. I’m the new Rose. Although I don’t think we’re supposed to talk like this in the main house.” She pointed to the ceiling and mouthed the word cameras .

My shoulders began to shake as I started to laugh. Not an amusing laugh. The chilling laugh of the damned, of the hopeless, of the insane. “You think you’re on some fucking reality show?”

“Of course!” she said enthusiastically, warming to the topic. “It’s called His Ward . Part reality show. Part soap opera. We all immerse ourselves in our characters twenty-four/seven. It’s pretty intense. Everyone says you’re brilliant by the way, although they might have warned me you take the whole asylum inmate part of the role so seriously! I actually thought that thing you were holding was sharp!”

I had heard enough. Reaching behind me, I grasped a large brass candlestick holder. Swinging it forward, I brought it down on her head. She crumbled to the floor. It took a huge effort to drag her body across the room and lift her dead weight into the bed. Her hair color was a bit darker than mine but hopefully in the dim light of the firelight no one would notice. Especially him.

Just in case, I stripped her bare and secured her wrists and ankles to the bedposts. Pausing, I took a moment to look at her vulnerable body, lying there nude and restrained. Her skin pale cream against the sun-bleached white of the linens. The view was pure yet raw and pornographic. Was this how I looked to Richard each time he had come into the room? A wanton innocent awaiting his pleasure?

I shook my head; why did that thought please me? I should be disgusted at the thought of him deriving pleasure at seeing me bound and submissive and yet…

Sneaking down to the parlor, I crept into a small space behind a chair and waited for darkness to descend, praying Richard wouldn’t return before I could escape.