Lemarchand
10-23-2009, 10:40 AM
Distant Chimes of Midnight
Much was changing in this newly industrialised world; the countryside was gradually being eroded away in favour of grandiose and gigantic technology that excited men promised so much for the benefit of the developing nation. But in these final days of the nineteenth century, such concerns were less important to Belle Sutherland than they seemed to most everyone else. Her old school master Professor Bradley would sing such praise of the wizardry performed by those with the intellect to move the human race into what he described as “A new and golden age!†Her employer Henry Macarthur would tell her on occasion to “Not be ignorant of mans progress girl!†as he too shared the optimism of so many these days. Even her father William, a studious and austere man had not failed to be moved and even influenced by the product of this industrial age. The only concern related to Belle’s own interest and heart, was that so many places of beauty she had once enjoyed with fervour as a child, were now ravaged or even destroyed by iron, steel and stone.
Now in her seventeenth year Belle was still prone to the distraction of childlike daydream, and she supposed she always would be. Imagining herself within the company of the man with which she shared an infatuation and surrounded by idyllic settings of natural colour and splendour. She would think of things like this more often than she thought she should, and certainly did at this moment; only to be snapped out of her fantasy by the passing Mr Macarthur, whom reminded her sternly that her employment with the Bank would be placed in jeopardy if she did not concentrate harder on her tasks in hand. Belle did certainly enjoy her time working at the Bank. It was most unusual for women to be put out to work at all, but her father insisted upon it. It was even more unusual for a girl of her age to find gainful employment within the banking community. That position was almost exclusively reserved for spinsters approaching middle age. However she would never lose sight of the gratitude and pride she had for her position, especially as the world of financial commerce was indeed the arena for the privileged. Besides, the other privilege Belle would gain from her time spent working at the bank, was the opportunity to see Andrew.
Andrew Macarthur, a man in his mid twenties and the nephew of the bank manager, expressed his interest in Belle from the moment she stepped from Mr Macarthur’s office on her very first day. He was a pretty young man, almost foppish but without the ignorance that befell so many other privileged young gentry of the time. His charming smile would radiate from his eyes each time he would see Belle, and she could not help but be drawn into that charm. He did not work at the bank, nor did he have any employment at all, but often shared luncheon with his uncle; and also seemed to make plenty of excuses to frequent the premises in effort to spend time in her presence, albeit briefly. Andrew had always been the perfect gentleman in Belle’s presence, always courteous and respectful, always putting any need she displayed before his own. A mere few weeks ago Andrew Macarthur met with Belle’s father William and made clear his request for permission to court his Daughter. He declined fervently. He did not trust the young Macarthur, he had told Belle he saw deceit in the boy’s eyes and certainly did not trust any man whom inherited wealth as opposed to earning it. He felt that such acquisitions were always accompanied by a lack of respect for the money and in turn a disrespect for other people and would never risk that disrespect being delivered upon his own beloved daughter. Her father’s decision caused Belle considerable hurt. She recognised the possessiveness within the man, a trait that had developed strongly after the passing of her Mother. William Sutherland was certainly not a weak man. He was a man whom commanded great respect in the community, a Doctor of Medicine who had been courted to practice in London, but refused to leave behind the memory of his beloved wife Patricia and thus remained here with his daughter. William never remarried; he never even courted the company of another woman in the seven years since becoming a widower. Belle respected her father greatly and understood him to have her greatest interest at heart regardless of how unfair his possession of her would sometimes feel, and she knew that once he had asserted his decision in regard to her familiarity with the young Macarthur, he must be obeyed as any strong Victorian father should. However, that did not mean she was not prone to the occasional bouts of disobedience.
At least one weekend in every month Belle would visit her close friend from her days at school. Gemima Griffin had married the towns Chief Inspector in the year previous. Chief Inspector Griffin was more than twice Gemima’s age, a detail that Belle was never fully comfortable with. Each time thinking about the intimate relations between herself and someone old enough to be her father no less than quite repugnant. She never spoke of such things with Gemima so as not to cause any offence. Besides, her husband’s position caused the Chief Inspector to be called away to the Capital on regular occasions thus giving the two young friends time to indulge their own close relationship and behave in the way that many girls of that age will do in private company. This being one of those weekends, Belle prepared for the journey across town by carriage to the Griffin’s household close to the river. She was excited for more than the simple reason of seeing Gemima. She had also conspired with her friend to disobey her father and arrange a discrete rendezvous with Andrew Macarthur. Small and secret letters had passed between the young couple during the past week at the bank. The atmosphere for the two of them was charged with an electricity of anticipation during that time, and excitement that could barely be contained, it was so difficult for Belle to function without breaking into the widest of smiles and had to concentrate hard on the cataloguing of transaction receipts.
On the Afternoon of that Friday’s early spring day, Belle’s father William saw her to the carriage, assisted her driver in stowing the luggage safely and bidding his daughter a safe journey. He watched as she waved back to him whilst the horses hooves clipped against the stone cobbles drawing her away into the sunlit horizon. It was early evening when Gemima greeted Belle upon her arrival. The two girls giggled as they walked inside the house and the driver delivered Belle’s weekend baggage. They enjoyed a good evening supper and talked laughingly long into the night before turning into a bed more luxurious than her own. Then fell asleep amongst thoughts of her day to follow.
Belle awoke late on that Saturday morning and descended to the kitchen to find Gemima preparing a hearty breakfast. Gemima had never shown much of an aptitude for the domestic duties of a homemaker during school and Belle was always surprised at how adept she had become since her marriage. She wondered if the same fate would befall her if she were ever to become a mans wife, she knew that at that moment she would be forced to retire her position at the bank; it was customary of the time that no woman in wedlock should hold a position other than that of a dutiful housewife. The thought brought about a slight melancholy that would only dissipate during breakfast as Gemima interrogated her brazenly about Andrew. Gemima knew Belle was still pure of body and soul but gained great enjoyment teasing her good friend and giving little titbits of information about life beyond virginity and the pleasures beheld. Belle would often find her friends candid and colorful turn of speaking quite shocking, but none the less arousing until the stark reminder of the mans age whom Gemima spoke became apparent in her mind. However, she would shield her disgust and allow her friend this indulgence of carnal tales of sinful pleasure.
The day progressed nervously for Belle as they prepared for the evening ahead. They agonised for hours over what dress she should wear, playing dress up before a full length mirror and posing innocently and suggestively as Gemima offered her friend words of womanly wisdom. Belle had become positively giddy with excitement and anticipation before the two girls finally decided upon a cream coloured spring gown embroidered with patterns of far eastern flowers. The dress augmented her curvaceous figure with tremendous effect, yet did not reveal too much flesh as to retain a look of sweet innocence. Belle looked positively beautiful and would maintain a challenge for any man to resist.
The last good light of the day was beginning to fade as evening approached. The sky was cloudless and as the sun began to descend slowly towards it’s position of slumber behind the tree line to the west. Belle headed out, watched with great excitement and anticipation by her young friend. Belle chose not to meet Andrew at the Griffin’s household; she felt the risk too great of a family friend of the Griffin’s stopping by unexpectedly and idle word of the presence of the man she had been forbidden to see getting back to her own father. She also felt a little uncomfortable at the thought of a more than interested chaperone in Gemima watching secretly over the two of them. She had arranged to meet her young consort within the woodland that lay beyond the river. At this time of year, with tree blossoms blooming and casting their delicate petals like feathered rain to the soft ground beneath her feet. A setting more than matching the pretty locations she would daydream about often. Belle crossed the ornately carved bridge that spanned the flowing water just out of sight of the Griffin’s home. As she did she glanced back to see Gemima wave her off out of sight, she turned back towards her destination beyond the tree line now casting beams of magenta from the setting sun through the branches and the newborn leaves.
Belle knew this area quite well and found the idyllic clearing from which she intended to meet Andrew. She felt quite naughty, even wicked for disobeying her father so unashamedly. Belle found the trunk of a long since fallen tree lying horizontally and supported by the body of a strong and great oak nearby. She leant against the hulk of decaying wood and raised her delicate lace parasol to shield her from the droplets of the spring evening dew. There she waited with a silent eagerness and a mischievous smile as Macarthur came into view. Stepping cautiously through the brush and catching his coat upon outstretched brambles Andrew smiled widely as he saw this young woman he was drawn to so inexplicably, as he stepped into the clearing he brushed the curls of his hair from his eye and looked at Belle. A look of awe befell the young man.
“Hello Belle, please let me look at you!â€
She smiled coyly and moved from her leaned position, taking a few gentle steps towards him into a soft rain of blossom petals. With the parasol rest against her shoulder, she extended her arm from her side slightly and began to turn. Twirling slowly round so as to give her man a full vision of the delight he craves. She could hear the muffled expression of satisfaction come from behind his lips.
“You are so incredibly beautiful Belle, so much more than I have ever dreamed!†he said with a passion that caused her heart to simply melt.
“I brought these for you.â€
She hadn’t noticed him concealing his hand behind him as he approached but was now struck by a small and ever so pretty corsage of white lilies. He offered them to her with his outstretched arm and she warmly accepted them, their hands touching ever so briefly as the exchange took place. Albeit simple and innocent, this was the very first physical contact between to two; it felt wonderful to Belle, almost illicit with the clandestine nature of their meeting.
The couple began to converse politely about nothing in particular and neither cared, for they were together here and now without prying eyes to make them feel uncomfortable. They walked through the woodland laughing and enjoying one another’s company, they held hands and toyed playfully with each other and time did indeed slip gently away into the evening air. Dusk set upon the woodland, the shadows of great trees lengthening and disappearing, the on setting darkness did not concern them and a dim light of stars and moonlight gently filtered through the branches above their heads. The spring night brought with it a chill and Andrew offered Belle his coat. He wrapped it around her shoulders and was as close to an embrace as could be. His eyes fell upon and into Belle’s own and he leant in carefully and placed his lips softly upon hers. Belle did not recoil and closed her eyes as she was transported to a heavenly place of sensory extremes. The kiss, her first; sent a pulsating surge through her body unlike anything she had ever felt and yet it felt truly natural and right. She felt an arousal, so similar and yet more intense than those sensations she would feel when her friend would tease her innocent and inquisitive mind. In that instant, with a kiss of timeless quality that held her imagination in limbo, Belle questioned if what she was feeling was indeed love, it all felt so perfect that she felt close to shedding a tear. As Andrew withdrew his lips from hers, she wondered if he indeed could feel the emotion building within her as he promised to her then that he would do all he could to prove to her father that he was worthy of her affection. Belle, almost overcome with emotion, yet feeling so alive buried her head into the shoulder of her lover and embraced him so tightly that she thought she could never let go.
The snapping of a nearby twig broke the near perfect silence of that night air. Belle’s eyes rose slightly, expecting to see the silhouette of Gemima undoubtedly spying on them. But in an instant she saw the rushing shadow in the dark, movement so brisk it left no time for reaction. A sudden heavy blow shook the couple apart and Belle felt herself be forcibly pulled to the ground, she shrieked out, her cry echoing through the woodland and saw for a brief moment and large silhouette raise an arm above the recovering Andrew, and then thrust down colliding with his head. The sound of leather-bound wood upon skin and bone cracked through the night air and Andrew collapsed lifeless to the ground. Belle screamed out again, her plight lost in the wilderness and felt something being stuffed into her mouth and tied into place. She struggled against whatever force had hold of her but was not strong enough. She saw the silhouetted beast whom assaulted Andrew step close towards her, and as she cried out her protestations into this crude and foul tasting gag; what dim moonlight vision she had was suddenly removed from her as sackcloth was drawn over her head and tied around the neck. Belle struggled furiously, thrashing and kicking with all the power she could muster, but to no avail. She could feel her wrists being drawn together behind her back and bound into position, then the same with her ankles. Belle was left suddenly helpless in the power of what now became apparent was two men.
“We should do this one right ‘ere!†Stated the one man, his voice gruff and common and filled with excited aggression.
“NO!†ordered the other, his own voice similar in tone and timbre. “We don’t take that risk, we stick to the plan and take her where agreed, besides…patience with this one seems worthy of the reward.†The two men chuckled cruelly beneath their breath as the second man ordered the first to pick Belle up.
Belle bucked violently as she was lifted from the ground but it seemed not to bother the two men much.
“I wouldn’t waste your energy to much little girl.†The one man said “Your gonna bloody need it!†stated the other and the two laughed again, this time more raucously. They carried her for what felt like an age, the only sounds being the cracking of twigs and branches underfoot and the heavy breath of Belle’s two captors. Eventually the men’s pace slowed and the ground apparently became more even, then another sound, the unmistakeable exhalation of a horse…two to be exact. Footsteps then strode upon hardened ground, a road, then the sound of a carriage door being opened and then Belle was flung inside and onto the hard wooded floor. The Carriage door was closed firmly behind her and before to long she could feel the horse’s strain against the weight of the carriage and move off.
Frightened and with her senses partially blinded Belle lost all trace of the movement of time. Only the sound of hooves and the wooded cartwheels upon the dirt of the road could she hear. She dreaded what her abductors had planned for her and her thoughts turned to her Andrew, lying insentient or even dead in the forest behind. Gradually her fear turned to grief and helplessly she began to weep. Beyond this absence of time Belle was drawn from her sorrow and felt needles of fear pierce the skin upon the nape of her neck. The carriage had stopped and the door was opened. Belle began to fight as best as her bound and prone form could as hands clawed at her ankles, taking charge of her and carrying her from the horse drawn vehicle. In the control of her two captors she was carried once more; now across loose stone chippings and the men’s footfalls disturbed the gravel noisily. A series of doors were opened, three she believed, the first of which being unlocked by key. Belle now felt one man hold her shoulders firmly and the other her legs, pitched at an angle she could sense the descent of steps the men made. A dim orange light began to seep its way through the fabric of the woven sackcloth that covered her head and she was placed down upon solid stone; she was sitting but her wrists and ankles were still firmly secured. The cord around Belle’s neck was loosened and the sacking stripped from her face. She could see clearly the two scruffy and ragged men, burly in stature, the one fatter than the other and both unshaven for days. She started at them with terrified eyes, unkempt and grimy; they reminded her of dock workers she would see as her family would set sail aboard a passenger liner destined for other shores. They stared at her eagerly, the fatter of the two with an increasing excitement as he perused her body with glazed and impish eyes. Feeling an impending dread Belle screamed out into her acrid cloth gag, hoping someone nearby would hear her cries. Her two assailants simply laughed at her as her helplessness found form in emotion and she sobbed with tears streaming down her face. The strongly built man slapped the fatter on the back.
“C’mon, lets get out of here…she ain’t goin’ no place!†He turned his back from Belle, dragging his comrade with him and they climbed up a steep stone stair and disappeared from view, then the sound of heavy wood slamming solidly against stone signalled to Belle her imprisonment.
Glancing around the room she now occupied, Belle felt she was in some place of nightmares; large black metal implements adorned grey stonewalls of her gaol. Tools of cattle farming she thought, even though she had no experience of them. A set of chains, corroded with a tinge of rust hung down from the blackened wooden beams above her head. A large heavy wooden table stood between two wooden pillars supporting the ceiling. There were no windows, the only light being cast by flickering candles set upon a large sconce for each of the four walls. Despite the flames Belle felt so very cold upon the dank stone floor. Her thoughts turning again to her unfortunate Andrew, and then to her father. Regretful feelings and guilt bled into her heart. If only she had been compliant with her fathers wish then this whole nightmarish scenario would never have taken place. He would have protected her as he always did; she wished he were here and now begged to God for her father to rescue her.
Pain had set into to Belle’s bound limbs; she had not been able to move them freely for some considerable time. She felt it must have been hours regardless of the absence of a timepiece in this awful place. Her hands and feet tingled, blood failing to circulate efficiently and she wondered if she would ever be liberated from her hell. Hell it was she had thought. God’s recompense for her defiance and her indulgent urges.
A sound began to tear through the silence of Belle’s prison. Distant footfalls came close and then she could hear the defined sound of somebody stepping upon the wooden beams above her head. The numbness of dread now filled her conscious thoughts, as she knew this to be the return of her abductors. She knew they were here to visit upon her their evil intentions. Helplessly she watched the stair as the sound of a wrought iron hinge creaked and squealed when the door was lifted. Light emanated from above the stair and then a shadow cast down upon the flags of staggered and worn stone. Belle’s eyes saw the polished boots of gentry begin to descent, not the grubby tattered leather uppers of the dockworkers she feared returning. The hem of a black cape surrounding the body of a tall man carrying with him at his side a leather bag unmistakable to her eyes; the case of a medical doctor. Belle’s heart raced and lifted as the face of a man she knew so well appeared from the silhouette. The groomed moustache and features of her own beloved father descended the stair. Belle began to sob uncontrollably with utter relief as her prayers and her begging to God had been answered and rewarded. Belle begged tearfully through her gag for her father to help her upon his timely arrival, however his expression remained stoic throughout her pleas and William Sutherland remained altogether unaffected by his daughter’s predicament.
“You have displeased me in the extreme my daughter!†William announced as he turned and set his physicians case upon the heavy wooden table, his voice stern and authoritative. “ I had forbade you familiarity with that Macarthur boy and you disobeyed my wish directly.â€
Belle, her sobbing having turned from relief to fear once more attempted to beg her fraught apology from behind the cloth that clogged her dry mouth.
“SILENCE GIRL!†Sutherland roared, turning toward her with a flame of fury within his eyes.
Belle shuddered with terror at her father’s dramatic outburst. She had never before experienced such a level of anger from the man and it cut through her soul similarly to that of a hot blade through butter. Sutherland turned from his daughter and unclasped the cape then removed it from upon his shoulders. As he gathered the garment neatly together he spoke in confident tone.
“You will be punished for your disobedience girl!â€
Belle’s heart sunk deeper.
“You will know suffering for your indiscretion, and you will learn exactly where your affections belong!â€
More To Follow.............
Much was changing in this newly industrialised world; the countryside was gradually being eroded away in favour of grandiose and gigantic technology that excited men promised so much for the benefit of the developing nation. But in these final days of the nineteenth century, such concerns were less important to Belle Sutherland than they seemed to most everyone else. Her old school master Professor Bradley would sing such praise of the wizardry performed by those with the intellect to move the human race into what he described as “A new and golden age!†Her employer Henry Macarthur would tell her on occasion to “Not be ignorant of mans progress girl!†as he too shared the optimism of so many these days. Even her father William, a studious and austere man had not failed to be moved and even influenced by the product of this industrial age. The only concern related to Belle’s own interest and heart, was that so many places of beauty she had once enjoyed with fervour as a child, were now ravaged or even destroyed by iron, steel and stone.
Now in her seventeenth year Belle was still prone to the distraction of childlike daydream, and she supposed she always would be. Imagining herself within the company of the man with which she shared an infatuation and surrounded by idyllic settings of natural colour and splendour. She would think of things like this more often than she thought she should, and certainly did at this moment; only to be snapped out of her fantasy by the passing Mr Macarthur, whom reminded her sternly that her employment with the Bank would be placed in jeopardy if she did not concentrate harder on her tasks in hand. Belle did certainly enjoy her time working at the Bank. It was most unusual for women to be put out to work at all, but her father insisted upon it. It was even more unusual for a girl of her age to find gainful employment within the banking community. That position was almost exclusively reserved for spinsters approaching middle age. However she would never lose sight of the gratitude and pride she had for her position, especially as the world of financial commerce was indeed the arena for the privileged. Besides, the other privilege Belle would gain from her time spent working at the bank, was the opportunity to see Andrew.
Andrew Macarthur, a man in his mid twenties and the nephew of the bank manager, expressed his interest in Belle from the moment she stepped from Mr Macarthur’s office on her very first day. He was a pretty young man, almost foppish but without the ignorance that befell so many other privileged young gentry of the time. His charming smile would radiate from his eyes each time he would see Belle, and she could not help but be drawn into that charm. He did not work at the bank, nor did he have any employment at all, but often shared luncheon with his uncle; and also seemed to make plenty of excuses to frequent the premises in effort to spend time in her presence, albeit briefly. Andrew had always been the perfect gentleman in Belle’s presence, always courteous and respectful, always putting any need she displayed before his own. A mere few weeks ago Andrew Macarthur met with Belle’s father William and made clear his request for permission to court his Daughter. He declined fervently. He did not trust the young Macarthur, he had told Belle he saw deceit in the boy’s eyes and certainly did not trust any man whom inherited wealth as opposed to earning it. He felt that such acquisitions were always accompanied by a lack of respect for the money and in turn a disrespect for other people and would never risk that disrespect being delivered upon his own beloved daughter. Her father’s decision caused Belle considerable hurt. She recognised the possessiveness within the man, a trait that had developed strongly after the passing of her Mother. William Sutherland was certainly not a weak man. He was a man whom commanded great respect in the community, a Doctor of Medicine who had been courted to practice in London, but refused to leave behind the memory of his beloved wife Patricia and thus remained here with his daughter. William never remarried; he never even courted the company of another woman in the seven years since becoming a widower. Belle respected her father greatly and understood him to have her greatest interest at heart regardless of how unfair his possession of her would sometimes feel, and she knew that once he had asserted his decision in regard to her familiarity with the young Macarthur, he must be obeyed as any strong Victorian father should. However, that did not mean she was not prone to the occasional bouts of disobedience.
At least one weekend in every month Belle would visit her close friend from her days at school. Gemima Griffin had married the towns Chief Inspector in the year previous. Chief Inspector Griffin was more than twice Gemima’s age, a detail that Belle was never fully comfortable with. Each time thinking about the intimate relations between herself and someone old enough to be her father no less than quite repugnant. She never spoke of such things with Gemima so as not to cause any offence. Besides, her husband’s position caused the Chief Inspector to be called away to the Capital on regular occasions thus giving the two young friends time to indulge their own close relationship and behave in the way that many girls of that age will do in private company. This being one of those weekends, Belle prepared for the journey across town by carriage to the Griffin’s household close to the river. She was excited for more than the simple reason of seeing Gemima. She had also conspired with her friend to disobey her father and arrange a discrete rendezvous with Andrew Macarthur. Small and secret letters had passed between the young couple during the past week at the bank. The atmosphere for the two of them was charged with an electricity of anticipation during that time, and excitement that could barely be contained, it was so difficult for Belle to function without breaking into the widest of smiles and had to concentrate hard on the cataloguing of transaction receipts.
On the Afternoon of that Friday’s early spring day, Belle’s father William saw her to the carriage, assisted her driver in stowing the luggage safely and bidding his daughter a safe journey. He watched as she waved back to him whilst the horses hooves clipped against the stone cobbles drawing her away into the sunlit horizon. It was early evening when Gemima greeted Belle upon her arrival. The two girls giggled as they walked inside the house and the driver delivered Belle’s weekend baggage. They enjoyed a good evening supper and talked laughingly long into the night before turning into a bed more luxurious than her own. Then fell asleep amongst thoughts of her day to follow.
Belle awoke late on that Saturday morning and descended to the kitchen to find Gemima preparing a hearty breakfast. Gemima had never shown much of an aptitude for the domestic duties of a homemaker during school and Belle was always surprised at how adept she had become since her marriage. She wondered if the same fate would befall her if she were ever to become a mans wife, she knew that at that moment she would be forced to retire her position at the bank; it was customary of the time that no woman in wedlock should hold a position other than that of a dutiful housewife. The thought brought about a slight melancholy that would only dissipate during breakfast as Gemima interrogated her brazenly about Andrew. Gemima knew Belle was still pure of body and soul but gained great enjoyment teasing her good friend and giving little titbits of information about life beyond virginity and the pleasures beheld. Belle would often find her friends candid and colorful turn of speaking quite shocking, but none the less arousing until the stark reminder of the mans age whom Gemima spoke became apparent in her mind. However, she would shield her disgust and allow her friend this indulgence of carnal tales of sinful pleasure.
The day progressed nervously for Belle as they prepared for the evening ahead. They agonised for hours over what dress she should wear, playing dress up before a full length mirror and posing innocently and suggestively as Gemima offered her friend words of womanly wisdom. Belle had become positively giddy with excitement and anticipation before the two girls finally decided upon a cream coloured spring gown embroidered with patterns of far eastern flowers. The dress augmented her curvaceous figure with tremendous effect, yet did not reveal too much flesh as to retain a look of sweet innocence. Belle looked positively beautiful and would maintain a challenge for any man to resist.
The last good light of the day was beginning to fade as evening approached. The sky was cloudless and as the sun began to descend slowly towards it’s position of slumber behind the tree line to the west. Belle headed out, watched with great excitement and anticipation by her young friend. Belle chose not to meet Andrew at the Griffin’s household; she felt the risk too great of a family friend of the Griffin’s stopping by unexpectedly and idle word of the presence of the man she had been forbidden to see getting back to her own father. She also felt a little uncomfortable at the thought of a more than interested chaperone in Gemima watching secretly over the two of them. She had arranged to meet her young consort within the woodland that lay beyond the river. At this time of year, with tree blossoms blooming and casting their delicate petals like feathered rain to the soft ground beneath her feet. A setting more than matching the pretty locations she would daydream about often. Belle crossed the ornately carved bridge that spanned the flowing water just out of sight of the Griffin’s home. As she did she glanced back to see Gemima wave her off out of sight, she turned back towards her destination beyond the tree line now casting beams of magenta from the setting sun through the branches and the newborn leaves.
Belle knew this area quite well and found the idyllic clearing from which she intended to meet Andrew. She felt quite naughty, even wicked for disobeying her father so unashamedly. Belle found the trunk of a long since fallen tree lying horizontally and supported by the body of a strong and great oak nearby. She leant against the hulk of decaying wood and raised her delicate lace parasol to shield her from the droplets of the spring evening dew. There she waited with a silent eagerness and a mischievous smile as Macarthur came into view. Stepping cautiously through the brush and catching his coat upon outstretched brambles Andrew smiled widely as he saw this young woman he was drawn to so inexplicably, as he stepped into the clearing he brushed the curls of his hair from his eye and looked at Belle. A look of awe befell the young man.
“Hello Belle, please let me look at you!â€
She smiled coyly and moved from her leaned position, taking a few gentle steps towards him into a soft rain of blossom petals. With the parasol rest against her shoulder, she extended her arm from her side slightly and began to turn. Twirling slowly round so as to give her man a full vision of the delight he craves. She could hear the muffled expression of satisfaction come from behind his lips.
“You are so incredibly beautiful Belle, so much more than I have ever dreamed!†he said with a passion that caused her heart to simply melt.
“I brought these for you.â€
She hadn’t noticed him concealing his hand behind him as he approached but was now struck by a small and ever so pretty corsage of white lilies. He offered them to her with his outstretched arm and she warmly accepted them, their hands touching ever so briefly as the exchange took place. Albeit simple and innocent, this was the very first physical contact between to two; it felt wonderful to Belle, almost illicit with the clandestine nature of their meeting.
The couple began to converse politely about nothing in particular and neither cared, for they were together here and now without prying eyes to make them feel uncomfortable. They walked through the woodland laughing and enjoying one another’s company, they held hands and toyed playfully with each other and time did indeed slip gently away into the evening air. Dusk set upon the woodland, the shadows of great trees lengthening and disappearing, the on setting darkness did not concern them and a dim light of stars and moonlight gently filtered through the branches above their heads. The spring night brought with it a chill and Andrew offered Belle his coat. He wrapped it around her shoulders and was as close to an embrace as could be. His eyes fell upon and into Belle’s own and he leant in carefully and placed his lips softly upon hers. Belle did not recoil and closed her eyes as she was transported to a heavenly place of sensory extremes. The kiss, her first; sent a pulsating surge through her body unlike anything she had ever felt and yet it felt truly natural and right. She felt an arousal, so similar and yet more intense than those sensations she would feel when her friend would tease her innocent and inquisitive mind. In that instant, with a kiss of timeless quality that held her imagination in limbo, Belle questioned if what she was feeling was indeed love, it all felt so perfect that she felt close to shedding a tear. As Andrew withdrew his lips from hers, she wondered if he indeed could feel the emotion building within her as he promised to her then that he would do all he could to prove to her father that he was worthy of her affection. Belle, almost overcome with emotion, yet feeling so alive buried her head into the shoulder of her lover and embraced him so tightly that she thought she could never let go.
The snapping of a nearby twig broke the near perfect silence of that night air. Belle’s eyes rose slightly, expecting to see the silhouette of Gemima undoubtedly spying on them. But in an instant she saw the rushing shadow in the dark, movement so brisk it left no time for reaction. A sudden heavy blow shook the couple apart and Belle felt herself be forcibly pulled to the ground, she shrieked out, her cry echoing through the woodland and saw for a brief moment and large silhouette raise an arm above the recovering Andrew, and then thrust down colliding with his head. The sound of leather-bound wood upon skin and bone cracked through the night air and Andrew collapsed lifeless to the ground. Belle screamed out again, her plight lost in the wilderness and felt something being stuffed into her mouth and tied into place. She struggled against whatever force had hold of her but was not strong enough. She saw the silhouetted beast whom assaulted Andrew step close towards her, and as she cried out her protestations into this crude and foul tasting gag; what dim moonlight vision she had was suddenly removed from her as sackcloth was drawn over her head and tied around the neck. Belle struggled furiously, thrashing and kicking with all the power she could muster, but to no avail. She could feel her wrists being drawn together behind her back and bound into position, then the same with her ankles. Belle was left suddenly helpless in the power of what now became apparent was two men.
“We should do this one right ‘ere!†Stated the one man, his voice gruff and common and filled with excited aggression.
“NO!†ordered the other, his own voice similar in tone and timbre. “We don’t take that risk, we stick to the plan and take her where agreed, besides…patience with this one seems worthy of the reward.†The two men chuckled cruelly beneath their breath as the second man ordered the first to pick Belle up.
Belle bucked violently as she was lifted from the ground but it seemed not to bother the two men much.
“I wouldn’t waste your energy to much little girl.†The one man said “Your gonna bloody need it!†stated the other and the two laughed again, this time more raucously. They carried her for what felt like an age, the only sounds being the cracking of twigs and branches underfoot and the heavy breath of Belle’s two captors. Eventually the men’s pace slowed and the ground apparently became more even, then another sound, the unmistakeable exhalation of a horse…two to be exact. Footsteps then strode upon hardened ground, a road, then the sound of a carriage door being opened and then Belle was flung inside and onto the hard wooded floor. The Carriage door was closed firmly behind her and before to long she could feel the horse’s strain against the weight of the carriage and move off.
Frightened and with her senses partially blinded Belle lost all trace of the movement of time. Only the sound of hooves and the wooded cartwheels upon the dirt of the road could she hear. She dreaded what her abductors had planned for her and her thoughts turned to her Andrew, lying insentient or even dead in the forest behind. Gradually her fear turned to grief and helplessly she began to weep. Beyond this absence of time Belle was drawn from her sorrow and felt needles of fear pierce the skin upon the nape of her neck. The carriage had stopped and the door was opened. Belle began to fight as best as her bound and prone form could as hands clawed at her ankles, taking charge of her and carrying her from the horse drawn vehicle. In the control of her two captors she was carried once more; now across loose stone chippings and the men’s footfalls disturbed the gravel noisily. A series of doors were opened, three she believed, the first of which being unlocked by key. Belle now felt one man hold her shoulders firmly and the other her legs, pitched at an angle she could sense the descent of steps the men made. A dim orange light began to seep its way through the fabric of the woven sackcloth that covered her head and she was placed down upon solid stone; she was sitting but her wrists and ankles were still firmly secured. The cord around Belle’s neck was loosened and the sacking stripped from her face. She could see clearly the two scruffy and ragged men, burly in stature, the one fatter than the other and both unshaven for days. She started at them with terrified eyes, unkempt and grimy; they reminded her of dock workers she would see as her family would set sail aboard a passenger liner destined for other shores. They stared at her eagerly, the fatter of the two with an increasing excitement as he perused her body with glazed and impish eyes. Feeling an impending dread Belle screamed out into her acrid cloth gag, hoping someone nearby would hear her cries. Her two assailants simply laughed at her as her helplessness found form in emotion and she sobbed with tears streaming down her face. The strongly built man slapped the fatter on the back.
“C’mon, lets get out of here…she ain’t goin’ no place!†He turned his back from Belle, dragging his comrade with him and they climbed up a steep stone stair and disappeared from view, then the sound of heavy wood slamming solidly against stone signalled to Belle her imprisonment.
Glancing around the room she now occupied, Belle felt she was in some place of nightmares; large black metal implements adorned grey stonewalls of her gaol. Tools of cattle farming she thought, even though she had no experience of them. A set of chains, corroded with a tinge of rust hung down from the blackened wooden beams above her head. A large heavy wooden table stood between two wooden pillars supporting the ceiling. There were no windows, the only light being cast by flickering candles set upon a large sconce for each of the four walls. Despite the flames Belle felt so very cold upon the dank stone floor. Her thoughts turning again to her unfortunate Andrew, and then to her father. Regretful feelings and guilt bled into her heart. If only she had been compliant with her fathers wish then this whole nightmarish scenario would never have taken place. He would have protected her as he always did; she wished he were here and now begged to God for her father to rescue her.
Pain had set into to Belle’s bound limbs; she had not been able to move them freely for some considerable time. She felt it must have been hours regardless of the absence of a timepiece in this awful place. Her hands and feet tingled, blood failing to circulate efficiently and she wondered if she would ever be liberated from her hell. Hell it was she had thought. God’s recompense for her defiance and her indulgent urges.
A sound began to tear through the silence of Belle’s prison. Distant footfalls came close and then she could hear the defined sound of somebody stepping upon the wooden beams above her head. The numbness of dread now filled her conscious thoughts, as she knew this to be the return of her abductors. She knew they were here to visit upon her their evil intentions. Helplessly she watched the stair as the sound of a wrought iron hinge creaked and squealed when the door was lifted. Light emanated from above the stair and then a shadow cast down upon the flags of staggered and worn stone. Belle’s eyes saw the polished boots of gentry begin to descent, not the grubby tattered leather uppers of the dockworkers she feared returning. The hem of a black cape surrounding the body of a tall man carrying with him at his side a leather bag unmistakable to her eyes; the case of a medical doctor. Belle’s heart raced and lifted as the face of a man she knew so well appeared from the silhouette. The groomed moustache and features of her own beloved father descended the stair. Belle began to sob uncontrollably with utter relief as her prayers and her begging to God had been answered and rewarded. Belle begged tearfully through her gag for her father to help her upon his timely arrival, however his expression remained stoic throughout her pleas and William Sutherland remained altogether unaffected by his daughter’s predicament.
“You have displeased me in the extreme my daughter!†William announced as he turned and set his physicians case upon the heavy wooden table, his voice stern and authoritative. “ I had forbade you familiarity with that Macarthur boy and you disobeyed my wish directly.â€
Belle, her sobbing having turned from relief to fear once more attempted to beg her fraught apology from behind the cloth that clogged her dry mouth.
“SILENCE GIRL!†Sutherland roared, turning toward her with a flame of fury within his eyes.
Belle shuddered with terror at her father’s dramatic outburst. She had never before experienced such a level of anger from the man and it cut through her soul similarly to that of a hot blade through butter. Sutherland turned from his daughter and unclasped the cape then removed it from upon his shoulders. As he gathered the garment neatly together he spoke in confident tone.
“You will be punished for your disobedience girl!â€
Belle’s heart sunk deeper.
“You will know suffering for your indiscretion, and you will learn exactly where your affections belong!â€
More To Follow.............