Callum thought to reply immediately, but her explanation stopped him short. He clamped his mouth closed on his own retort. After all, she was right. All this time he’d expected her to turn on her own family in order to gain freedom for herself and retrieve something that held little more than sentimental value.
“I must ashamedly admit that I had not thought of it that way,” Callum said slowly, and the woman scoffed.
“No, of course you didn’t. You’ve never had to think of anyone but yourself, to think of anything other than what it is you want.” She stood up and returned to the hallway that led to her room. She stopped and looked back at Callum coldly. “If for no other reason than to make you finally endure some significant loss, I will not return it. My corpse will rot in the prison graveyard before I ever tell you what you want to know.”
Chapter 10
The sun had already set that evening when Beatrix saw a flicker of movement outside her window. She looked up, hopeful that it might be one of her father’s men, but she was rather discouraged to see that it was only the wheels of the carriage casting shadows against the house as it rolled away.
“Ah, the lord of the manor has a fancy ball to attend, I suppose,” Beatrix muttered, straining to see out whilst standing on her toes.
Tired of her efforts, Beatrix lowered herself back to her blanket and picked up the book again. It was hard to reconcile the man she’d conversed with today caring about any of these plants and their useful properties. No, it was probably just one of many titles he’d ordered by the stone from the bookseller’s shop in order to line the shelves with a ruse, one that gave the impression he was a man of learning and science.
No sooner than the echoing of the pebbles beneath the carriage had finally died away than Beatrix’s door opened. It was the same maid who’d attended to her all this time, only mealtime had long since come and gone. Her hands were empty and her face looked frightened, and her eyes darted over her shoulder every once and again, looking for the guard who must have stepped away.
“You’re here!” Beatrix said brightly, but the girl still trembled. “It’s nice to see you. Tell me, what is your name?”
The maid hesitated a moment before answering. “I don’t know. But they call me Birdie.”
“Birdie? Because you’re so small and beautiful, I take it?” Beatrix said sincerely.
“Oh, go on with ya,” the girl said, blushing slightly. “I’m no beauty.”
“Don’t be silly. I think you’re quite a lovely girl. And Birdie suits you rather well.” Beatrix smiled and Birdie blushed, but then she seemed worried once more.
“I… I must get… that book back, miss,” the girl stammered, her fingers twitching at her sides as she flexed her hands nervously.
“Oh! Of course. Here you go.” Beatrix stood up and held it out, but the girl took a reflexive step back. “It’s all right, I won’t hurt you. I do so appreciate you bringing it to me.”
The girl paused for a moment, then darted forward and snatched the book. Clutching it to her chest protectively, she looked down but made no move to leave.
“I’m very sorry… but the master’s gone out and I thought ‘twould be a good time to fetch it without no one seein’ me.”
“I completely understand,” Beatrix said kindly. “I promise. It was very kind of you to sneak it down to me, but I would never want any trouble to come to you for it.”
The girl smiled with relief, but still looked away nervously before adding, “If… if ya needs somethin’ else… I could try…”
“Dear girl, I would never allow you to burden yourself in that way. You’ve done such a kindness for me already.” Beatrix smiled genuinely, her heart aching for the poor frightened servant.
“I should think… I mean, that is, if I was able to read good… a book might make me feel less scared down here.”
“I think that is very wise and most generous of you,” Beatrix said.
She studied the maid a while longer, noting the stains on her apron and the flecks of dust clinging to her hair. This must not be one of the upstairs maids, she realized. For a moment, she longed to enlist the girl’s help in escaping, perhaps to have her go around and unlatch the window or fetch her a chair to climb out, but then changed her mind. She could never bring such guilt upon her.
A noise in the hallway caught the girl’s attention. She looked around again in fear, then dropped a brief curtsy and said, “Well goodnight, miss.”
“Goodnight Birdie,” Beatrix called back softly. “And thank you again!”
She was taken aback by how someone in far more dire straits than she could still think of others’ needs ahead of her very safety. It had an enlightening effect on her.
What was she really gaining by denying this insufferable man something that he treasured personally? Was this really so much about protecting her family from the gallows, or about her own spiteful desire to punish someone for believing he was better than everyone else?
“In truth, it’s his wealth you resent,” she muttered to no one in particular, “not a farthing of which he’d earned for himself.”
Beatrix’s inner battle waged on. The part of her that missed her father dearly and that ached for the mother who’d been stolen from her as a babe was willing to reconcile, to reunite a son with his dead mother’s token. But the other part, the stronger part of her nature, wanted to see him suffer for his ill treatment of others, even those among his own household, let alone common people among the countryside.
“He had the nerve to act as though I should have requested permission to be seated in his presence,” she fumed, still burning with humiliation. “As if his chamber pot looks any different from mine when it’s in need of emptying!”
