“Fear is a reaction. Courage is a decision.”
Winston Churchill
Previously on The Space Between:
Joe and Danny search London for Annabelle, following the only lead they have: her portrait. Their questions lead them to a police informant who mistakes her for a prostitute, and Joe’s furious reaction reveals just how deeply he cares for her.
By the Thames, Joe admits Annabelle doesn’t appear in his dreams, breaking the connection they’ve shared until now. Pressed by Danny, he reveals the painful truth about Beatrice, the woman he loved before discovering she was his mother.
Then the informant returns, he has found Annabelle.
Chapter Nine
I had lain awake for the past three hours. Every time I thought about sleep, I couldn’t bear it, couldn’t bear for him to see me like this.
Lord Cartwright had come home in a rage, some incident at the club he refused to speak of. But when he took me to his bed, his temper flared like never before. I thought he might tear me to pieces.
At one point his hand came to my throat, tightening so much I lost my breath. His eyes had turned hard like stone, a deep fury bellowing. I grasped at his hand to try and pull it away.
“I can’t breathe,” I gasped.
Nothing. Not a word, nary a sound from him. I knew then the horrible truth. He was trying to kill me. It was then a voice came into my mind. Jonathan.
I closed my eyes, bringing him further into me, focusing all I had on him. And I could see his face, the light shining in his eyes, his hair in the breeze. His words kept repeating over and over again as though he were calling to me, “I’ll find a way to come to you. That’s my promise.”
As the echo stretched louder and louder, they became a battle cry. For the first time, I found myself fighting back. I dug my nails into his arm, leaving scratches deep in his flesh. He still did nothing, his grip tightening further. My vision began to quake, the world disappearing around me.
I gathered what was left of my breath, Jonathan’s words still flowing through me, and I let out a scream. I had no idea if anyone had heard but in only a few staggered breaths, Juliette and Robert came bursting through the door.
Juliette let out a yelp of her own, horrified by what she was seeing. Robert wasted little time jumping in, against what must have been a thousand never-do’s for anyone in a Lord’s service, and tugged as hard as he could on Lord Cartwright’s shoulder.
Lord Cartwright’s eyes had glazed over, the fire of fury replaced with frigid ice as he finally registered what was happening and was forced to turn his direction to Robert.
As he did, I took my chance and slipped out from under him, tumbling off the edge of the bed and landing in a heap on the floor, coughing violently.
My head was whirling in a thousand directions, the air barely making it through my aching throat to fill my lungs again. And though my sight hadn’t quite returned, I could hear the grunting and scuffling going on across the room.
A loud crash sent Juliette scampering to me where she ducked down as though dodging a bullet. Her eyes were pouring tears, clasping her hands over her ears for the noise. I had never seen her so frightened.
“Get off of m-me this, oof, instant,” Lord Cartwright bellowed, letting loose a deep belch in between his words. “She’s mine to do with what I- oh, what I please. Do y-you hear that? She belongs, oh, to me.”
I looked up to see Lord Cartwright on the floor, belly to the wooden boards, and Robert with his knees pressed onto his spine and an elbow to his neck.
Though he was nearly twice Robert’s size, particularly around the middle, Robert held steady, Lord Cartwright flailing about. After a moment, however, he went still and quiet.
Robert came to his feet, his stature straightening.
I was in shock, looking back from Robert to Lord Cartwright’s now lifeless body.
“Did you kill him?” Juliette was the first to ask what not even I dared, though part of me was hopeful.
She barely finished uttering the last word before Lord Cartwright made a loud sound, startling everyone, though he remained still, his eyes shut.
Juliette’s face skewed. “He’s…snoring.”
Robert reached up adjusting his cuff links and straightening his jacket. “He’ll be all right, lucky for him. Just needs to sleep it off that’s all. I doubt he’ll even remember much in the morning. Here.”
Without even a thought, he grabbed my robes and brought them over to me, wrapping them around my shoulders as he helped me to my feet. It had only occurred to me then I was still without my nightgown.
When I had come to a full stand and he caught a glimpse of my bare flesh, he stepped away awkwardly, “I, uh, shall I take my leave, Madam?”
”Leave?” Juliette looked at him, her eyes widening. “You’re just…leaving him there?”
“I told you, he’ll be fine. Since when did you care anyway?”
“I just thought, what if he wakes up, goes after her again?”
“When he arises, he will have a headache the size of England. Trust me, he will not feel like doing anything but keeping out the light for the next several hours at least.”
He turned to me and I pulled my robes closed. “Are you all right, Madam?”
I reached up, clenching my hand around my aching throat, taking another breath, staring at Lord Cartwright. He will do this again, you know that.
“Y-Yes. Yes, I’m all right. Thank you, Robert. You may go.“
”Goodnight, Madam.” He gave a small bow and then disappeared out the door.
Juliette looked at me, her eyes holding back something. Something I couldn’t quite name. My head was still spinning, the air thin through my swollen throat. I wobbled on my feet, Juliette taking my elbow.
“Here, Miss, let’s get you to bed.”
“Thank you, Juliette.”
As we came to my room, I sat upon the edge of the bed not really certain what to do. My mind wandered to Jonathan, replaying our last conversation.
“He will keep trying,” I whispered, not actually intending on saying it out loud.
“Oh Miss,“ she began, setting herself beside me on the bed, “don’t you fret about that. Robert will look after you. We all will.”
I turned to her, “I meant Jonathan. He won’t stop trying to find me.”
“Can I bring you something, Miss? A cup of tea, maybe?”
It was her words which snapped something in me. ”Actually, I think you can help me with something.”
*********
I let another half an hour pass before I finally arose and got myself dressed, donning my cloak before heading out the door. I knew I would be risking a great deal. Lord Cartwright kept a close watch on me at all hours. I knew he had to have spies lurking about the streets. Still, the risk had become necessary.
My feet made purchase on the loose gravel path, but not without cost. The sound was excruciatingly loud. I feared I would wake everyone in the household, including Lord Cartwright.
When I made it to the main road, I paused, listening. After a moment went by without any footsteps but my own, I was able to gather a small sigh of relief. Even so, I knew I was far from being out of danger.
The city streets were blanketed in a thick and heavy blackness, the fog blurring the sharper edges, obscuring its details behind a ghostly veil. It layered the night like dirt on a freshly buried grave. An ominous sign for an ominous task. As though the night itself knew to what end I intended. Whether it approved or not, I did not yet have an answer and I no longer had the time to contemplate it.
Two rights, then a left, at the end of the alleyway towards the riverbank. Those were her instructions.
I tried to hurry my steps through the mist, using it as a shroud, wary of every face I encountered along my path. I felt as if every eye were upon me, each a hole, as black as the night itself. The sky held its place, the stars tempered, with even the moon hidden away, not wishing to see. At least there was one who let me keep my secrets.
Taking the two rights was tricky. One alley saw itself lined with drunken sailors. As this was not the hour any lady of reputation would find herself upon, I had to garner a way not to attract too much attention.
I snuck by, trying to stay to the shadows as much as I was able. When I worked my way down past the edge of the tavern, I felt my breath return. But it was taken too soon.
“Oy, where you going, then?”
My heart began to race. Keep walking, just keep walking. Maybe he isn’t speaking to me.
“Oy, girl, I’m talking to ya.” Louder, carrying a slur on the last syllable. “Oy!”
I ignored him and walked faster, hurrying down the next alleyway, pressing myself tightly to the damp wall behind me. I held my breath as his sporadic footfalls came closer, moving further and further down the alley, submerging myself within a darker shadow. He came to the corner, his eyes glaring into the blackened sea before him. I covered my mouth, afraid to even let the cloud of my breath go.
Though it were only a moment, it dragged on for a lifetime until finally, he decided against perusing me further and disappeared back around the corner.
I staggered forward, letting go of the breath I had been holding, and smoothed out my cloak. My heart had nearly jumped itself from my throat, what little breath remained, stayed sharp in the frozen air, piercing holes through my chest.
My mind shifting back to the task at hand, I was acutely aware of every passing second, determination mixed with the nausea of dread. A battle, locked between the two.
When I had righted myself, as much as I was going to anyway, I pushed my feet forward to the edge of the alley. And it was there among the damp mist I finally heard the lapping of the river. I was close.
I followed the sound, letting my feet carry me now, heavy with the night. Until, at last, I found it. The apothecary.
Approaching the shop, I found my fear starting to grip me harder. Though the outside stood grim and cold, much colder than any other night I had known, the darkness surrounding the apothecary held more fear than I imagined. Not for what it displayed, or what I knew I would find within, but of my own making, what I might become when I re-emerge.
I was frozen, my nerves and blood swirling together into sheets of ice. I stood outside the doorway for what must have been ages. An hour? Two? Time had warped, as though it knew what I was here to do, trying to slow me, halt me somehow.
Perhaps I was making a mistake. He won’t stop. Those three words had seared themselves to me, trapped between two impossible choices, a choice I now had to make. As I stood staring at the sign on the door, gathering whatever strength I could, a voice came from the night, a figure appearing in the doorway.
“Do you know what trouble beckons at my door, my dear?”
To be continued…
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Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight
I hope she'll buy rat poison! Michael, your sketches are so well drawn, you really are multitalented.