A Powerful Little Love

Chapter 15

Amorette gently placed her hand around her throat in front of the mirror. Her hands were too small to cover the marks that her father had left around her throat and wrist. Even three days after the attack the marks were still clearly visible; now a deep purple colour which contrasted greatly against her pale skin. She could hear Buckingham moving about beyond her locked bedroom door as he got ready to attend another party and no doubt play cards well into the next day. He had knocked on her door a short while before to ask if she needed anything before he left and Amorette had swiftly declined his offer. Buckingham thought she was ill and so did anyone else who had called to their lodgings. Amorette had retreated to her room after her father had attacked her and hadn't unlocked the door since. She hoped the bruises would begin to fade in a day or two so that she could at least venture out into the parlour.

It would be a week or two yet before she could venture outdoors with her neck completely exposed though. Amorette removed her hand and stared at the welts that were clearly discernible as the impression of a hand upon her skin. Amorette shuddered slightly as she imagined her father's hands on her again, holding her neck as he shoved her against the wall so that her feet dangled a foot above the ground. His purpose had been to scare her of course, but something in his eyes had told Amorette that her father wouldn't have despaired too much if he had squeezed too hard and she had died at his hand. In fact, Amorette supposed it was probably one of his secret fantasies. He couldn't dispose of her just yet though. Lord Barclay thought that if he pressured Amorette enough then she would give in to his demands and hand over the land and property that was rightfully his and for that he would need her alive. Amorette though, had no intention of letting her father have anything that had once belonged to her mother. She had already had a will drawn up detailing how her assets should be split equally between her cousins and an English aunt. Even distant relatives who Amorette had never set eyes on before in her whole life would inherit more than her own father.

A gentle knock at the door startled Amorette and she whipped around just in time to glimpse a thick letter being shoved through the crack between door and floor. "This just arrived," called Buckingham through the door. "Your cousin's reply you were waiting on?"

"Yes!" Amorette cried out excitedly as she retrieved the letter from the floor. It was indeed very thick and Amorette had the sneaking suspicion that it held a separate reply from Iseult. She tore open the letter and spared only a glance for her cousin's missive before turning over the second letter that had been wrapped in the first. It bore what was clearly a woman's handwriting and was addressed to Aramis. "Oh goodness he found her!" The words tumbled from Amorette's mouth without a thought to Buckingham who was still stood on the other side of the door.

"Who has found who?" he questioned.

Amorette jumped at the chance of her friend still being there. "George will you send a message to Aramis and tell him that there's a letter here for him? Please?"

"Aramis?" Buckingham queried. "The musketeer? You want to speak to him but you won't even open this damn door to me?"

Amorette sighed heavily. He had a point, but she couldn't bare anyone seeing the bruises that wrapped around her throat and asking questions. "George please just send the message. By the time that Aramis has a chance to come by I'm sure I'll be better by then."

"Fine," he muttered, "And you're sure there's nothing else you need? If you'd only open the door and let me look at you or fetch a doctor we might be able to get you on the mend a little quicker!"

"I'll be alright George, honestly," Amorette lied. "I just don't want to make you ill as well."

For a few moments there was more sound beyond the door before Amorette heard the carriage draw up outside to ferry Buckingham away to his party. Amorette felt a pang of longing for the carefree lifestyle her friend led. Up until three days ago, that had more or less been her life in Paris. Now though she would have to leave as soon as Aramis had his letter. Feeling dejected and miserable Amorette flopped down onto her bed again and grimaced at the prospect of another night shut up in her room.