Free Blackened by A.E. Richards Page B

floorboard between us and strokes my hair.
    I shiver at his touch. His nails scrape my skull like a wolf scraping soil for bones. He catches a scab, rips it off. I wince, get up, move to the bed and hastily lift Villette to my shoulder. I soothe her and bury my face in her fur. She has an inimitable kitten baby smell about her tiny head. Powdery and buttery and soft. She relaxes into me purring throatily.
    My heart yammers madly. A tingling sensation runs up and down my left arm and I have difficulty drawing breath.
    “I know this must come as somewhat of a shock. Please, sit down, rest a little. We do not need to leave quite yet. My driver will wait.”
    He guides me to the bed by my arm. His grip is strong, insistent, there is no saying no. I perch on the edge. All I can think is that I will never see Eddie again.
    “Where has Father sent him?” I ask.
    I peer up at Jean-Bernard through a mist. His expression is inscrutable. One moment I think he is pitying me, the next I think he is angry. So intense is his gaze. So unblinking are his eyes.
    He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, thinks better of it. Finally says, “I am afraid I cannot disclose that information to you at present.”
    His voice grates against my nerves, “Why ever not? You are not even related to him! He is my brother!”
    The strength of my voice catches me by surprise. Villette jerks awake. I place her on the bed behind me and stand up. A silver glimmer catches my eye; the bread knife lies on the floorboard in front of the door.
    Jean-Bernard holds his hands up to pacify me, “Calm down Lisbeth. Anger solves nothing.”
    “Where is he? Tell me!” I leap over to the bread knife, snatch it off the floor.
    Jean-Bernard stands, takes a step towards me, thinks better of it.
    My eyes are wild. I cannot believe I am threatening Jean-Bernard with the bread knife. The blade shakes in my hand.
    “Put down the knife,” he quietly urges.
    “Just tell me where he is and I will,” I say.
    “Lisbeth. Listen to me my darling. Knowing where he is will simply not do you any good at present. You know you are not going to use the knife. Put it down.”
    My shoulders sag. I know he is right. But I cannot loosen my grip on the knife.
    “Please? Please Jean-Bernard. If you tell me where Eddie is, I promise I will come with you without a fight.”
    “If you hand me the knife, I will tell you,” he says. His pale eyes reveal nothing.
    I hesitate. Look down at the knife, back up at his face. I start to lower the blade, but my hands snaps back up.
    “No. Stay away! Get back!”
    I back towards the door, feeling for the door knob with my free hand. Jean-Bernard attempts to follow but I jab the knife at him and he freezes. He seems irritatingly unpanicked by the situation, whereas my body rivers with perspiration and my heart gallops like a frightened horse.
    “Lisbeth, darling, think about what you are doing. You are not in your right mind. Now lower the knife slowly and hand it to me and I shall tell you his whereabouts.”
    “Tell me or I will run,” I insist.
    “And where will you run to? You will not get far on foot. The cottage is surrounded by acres of woodland. You will starve or freeze to death. Or worse.”
    He edges closer and I grab the brass door knob.
    “I have a place in mind,” I mutter, “Now stay back or I swear something bad will happen!”
    “We will catch you before you can make any ground. Charles cares too much to leave you to the wilderness, as do I. Please, hand me the knife.”
    “Neither of you cares about me. All you want is to have your wicked way and Father simply wants rid of me!”
    “That is untrue. You know it is. You are lying to yourself. Trust me Lisbeth. Have my recent visits shown you nothing of my love for you?”
    His vile touch, creepy advances showed me a great deal, but I say nothing of that.
    “Just tell me where Eddie is.”
    “Alright Lisbeth, you win,” Jean-Bernard says. He sits down on the bed,