Aurel

five

His fledgling hope had all but exhausted itself in the coming weeks. It had not been enough to persuade them. It hadn't been enough. There had been no movement, no sighting of her at all, even within the Big House and he had long since started to grow concerned. The sick feeling, he had felt upon arriving here had returned in full swing and he wanted more than anything to abandon this place and return to London. He could not, however, without her. He had given his word.

***

He remembered that morning. It had been foggy and unusually cold, quite unlike the seasonable weather normal for Antigua. No, this day from the start promised gloom and rain. It was this morning when everything changed forever. Time on this day, seemed to stop.

***

All had been awakened. A hard knock on his door had startled him and he had shot up, eyes panicked and nervous.

"What is it?" He asked, not bothering to hide his sour mood.

"Master and Mistress request you to arise, Mister Frederick. I here to help dress you." Swallowing tightly, he shoved back the covers and hopped out of bed. It had been cold and lonely without her in it and he had been in a terrible mood ever since that dinner a week and a half ago.

"I can dress myself. Stay there, please." He instructed, running frantic hands through his messy hair. Quickly, he put on his breeches and tucked his nightshirt in right and proper. Hurrying into his waistcoat, he tied his cravat and put on his outer coat. Sloppily combing through his hair, he didn't even bother putting the strands in a ponytail. Grabbing his spectacles, he rushed towards the door and opened it. There standing there was an unfamiliar face, a female he'd never seen before.

"Who are you?" He asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes irritably.

"My name is Clary. I come to fetch you."

"And go where, Miss Clary?" She grew stiff at the title but quickly continued.

"Master wan us all outside. In front of Big House." Why?

"Alright." Putting on his spectacles, he outstretched a hand towards the staircase.

"Lead the way, Miss Clary."

***

His gut told him that it had something to do with Anne but he swallowed it down. It was very unusual that no one had seen her. Which could only mean that something sinister was at work. Wetting his dry lips, he followed the young woman outside, where he found the entire household. The slaves from the fields were starting to file in as well.

"What's going on, Miss Clary?"

"I dun know." But her tight stiff shoulders and anxious rapid eye movement suggested differently.

"Does this have anything to do with Anne?" His answer didn't come from her, but in the form of the woman being dragged forward from behind Sir Wigham by Finnigan, horribly battered and beaten. At once, his heart dropped. She was shoved forth and fell to the ground. He couldn't control himself as he rushed forward, pushing the slaves out of the way. Standing there finally above her, he locked eyes with Wigham, eyes angry.

"What on God's green earth is happening? What has warranted my sleep being disturbed and this attack of her person?" Wigham grinned.

"Tell me, Lord Frederick. Did you know that you invited a witch into your bed?" Confusion spread across his features.