I Am Bree - Book 1

Chapter 3 - Gone

 The courtyard was empty, a premonition of what was to come, I thought to myself with a pang of sorrow. David came out of the stables then, brushing Father's horse and whistling as though this were an everyday outing.

"Don't you worry none, Miss Bree. He'll be back afore you know it." David smiled, but I noticed a certain sorrow in his eyes that told me I wasn't alone in suspecting something wasn't altogether as it should have been in the air.

"Remember the new maid, be sure she stays out of my study." Father's voice reached my ears before I saw him, and then he appeared with my mother and sisters in tow.

As he stepped past the doorframe, he looked up as though he knew that I was watching him. There was a terrible brokenness in his eyes, and he had no smile to give me. There was always a hint of sorrow in his expression when he looked at me, but this, this look nearly broke my heart.

David brought Father's large horse nearer, checking the saddle straps one last time. He nodded in an odd manner at Father, as though some secret message had passed between them.

"There, there, Magus." Father stroked the big horse's mane as it pranced over the ground, eager to be off. "We'll be leaving soon enough." He turned to me then, and for the first time in my life, I saw tears glistening in his eyes. "Bree," he breathed, and I suddenly thought how nice it was to hear him call me that. (Mother had named me Angelina, but he had refused to address me by that name.) He pulled me close to him, and the uncertainty and confusion passed between us, giving me strength. "Don't worry," he said finally. "I'll be back before your birthday; I promise, and I won't forget a gift." I could almost feel him trying to add the twinkle into his voice. I nearly lost what control I had on my emotions as that, nearly choked out a string of sobs, but I had to be strong, if not for myself, then for him. "I've made this trip at least a hundred times, what could possibly go wrong?" He whispered, trying to reassure both of us I realized.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words refused to come. Taking a deep breath, I tried to sound as happy and natural as I could. "Of course you will! I'm only cursing the rotten luck that would have me born so close to the New Year Celebration." He clutched me tighter as though he would never let me go.

"Oh, darling girl." He was trying, just like me, to act normal, but the catch in his voice betrayed his true emotions. "Call it nothing but good fortune," he added, his voice steadier. "What if your birth had fallen nearer the prince's birthday? Then the king would have examined you to see if you were worthy to be a bride for his son." The humor was forced, but I loved him all the more for it. He stepped away from me and examined my features again as though imprinting them in his memory. . .as though he wouldn't see me again.

"Why are you so rich anyway?" I tried to tease around the lump in my throat, but my voice only came out as a thin rasp. I trained my gaze on the buttons of his jerkin to keep myself from looking up at him. I knew all too well what expression his eyes would hold. Hadn't I seen it before when he looked at me? They would be filled with regret and something like anguish. His hand reached up and cupped my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"Keep looking up, my love. I want that to be my last memory of you." He leaned over and pressed his lips to my forehead. "Don't ever regret this, Bree," he whispered, suddenly very earnest. "Not any of it. It's all for the best. Don't ever regret it." He said again, and then he turned away toward Mother and the girls.

Adella, the sister just older than me, handed him an extensive list of items they would require him to get. I glared at them. They were treating him more like a deliveryman than their father. I half expected him to refuse the parchment; we were already having trouble keeping up with the bills, but he merely took the thing and moved away.

It was almost a comical exchange. No one ever played with Father. He was a big man, strong and firm, and those who crossed him soon regretted it. Mother, however, could play him like a puppet, and because he loved her, he never fought the strings that held him. I had seen him face down more frightening people than my petty sisters and never flinch once, but here, he suddenly appeared weak.

"You can still change this, Liam." Mother raised a perfectly shaped brow. "It's entirely in your hands." There was some underlying meaning to the words that went right over my head.

"No, Edora, you can change it. It doesn't have to be this way." Father almost pleaded, and I could see how close he was to groveling before her. Shrugging, she turned away from him as though he no longer mattered to her. His shoulders slumped slightly, and I had never hated my mother as much as I did at that moment.

I moved to his stirrup as he mounted and gazed up at him, imprinting his features on my memory. He gave me the ghost of a smile.

"Keep looking up." He whispered.

"Hurry back." I replied, gripping his leg. He didn't respond, only smiled, but the smile failed to reach his eyes. He was crushed by whatever had just transpired between Mother and him. It was a smile, however, and I returned it with as much happiness as I could muster.

Without another word, he gave a sharp click of his tongue and galloped down the lane. I couldn't move. I stood frozen, my feet unwilling to move. I watched him until I could see no more of him, until he had disappeared into the wilds where I had never ventured.

"Come, Angela," Mother said, and coming off her tongue, the name sounded like a cat raking its claws across metal. I had always hated the sound of it, but hearing her speak it was almost enough to make me want to lose my breakfast. She and the others turned to go back inside. "Young ladies do not stand outdoors staring after people who are no longer there." My stomach churned at the emphasis she'd put on the word 'ladies'. Though my skin crawled and my mind willed me to rebel, it couldn't be helped. I had to go inside.

Stepping back into the house was like walking into a graveyard. Father was gone, and with him, had gone the life of the house. The servants were crawling about the halls and forgetting to laugh when someone said something that should have been funny.

"Angela," Flora, my eldest sister, poked her head out of the sitting room, an attempt at a malicious smile creasing her brow. "Mother wants you." I followed her into the room. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

"Ah, Angela darling," the endearment rolled off her tongue like a cow pie dropping from a chicken's rear: unnatural and wrong. "Come, sit beside me. The girls and I would like to discuss some things with you." By discuss, I knew she meant 'we're going to lay down the law, and you're going to abide by it not matter what your opinion is.' In the corner, Flora and Annabella snickered, and the tiniest hint of dread snaked down my spine. "Well," Mother hesitated for a moment, something very rare in her. "You must stick to the indoors until the ball. I won't have one of my daughters running wildly about the countryside. People will begin to talk now that you've come of age." She finished quickly, as though she wished to say more but was using a great amount of restraint to stop herself.

Sitting there so primly on the sofa, she reminded me of a painting I had once seen of a woman strangling a Song Sparrow. It had been oddly impacting, in a horrible nightmarish way. They all seemed to be waiting for something, perhaps, the moment to pounce, but as of yet, something was standing in their way.

"Which means there will be no more visiting the menagerie." The words made me almost gasp for breath. That had been my only sanctuary, apart from Father's arms, for as long as I could remember, and now they meant to take it from me. "And you must move your things to the tower room above Aza's. Your sister's will be needing your room for their preparations." She gave a curt smile, and then rang the call bell as though I weren't there at all. "You may go now. I'm sure you have much to do." In that moment, a burning hate for her painted smile, that had driven my father away and stolen the one place I had to remember him by until he returned, began to smolder in my heart.

I rose and walked past the leering Adella with as much dignity as I could muster, closing the door behind myself. Standing there in the hall, I could only stare into space, my heart growing cold suddenly at the thought of what they might conjure up to do to me before Father returned. My only hope was that he would return before my birthday as he had promised, but until then, I must suffer whatever they did to me. It couldn't be too bad, I told myself, but I was young and naive had almost no experience with the way the world worked, and, as I was about to learn, I hardly knew the women I referred to as mother and sisters.