Chapter 15 Sarah’s Last Attack
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Once they left the main house, Brielle led Reid to neutralize the lightning warding array she’d tracked. She couldn’t pull out her astrolabe openly, but she didn’t need to-its pull hummed in her bones, guiding her every step. It had been a heirloom for generations, and she knew its song better than her own name.
By that point, the torrential downpour had slackened to a light drizzle, but the grounds were still a flurry of activity. Servants scrambled to clear debris and repair the roof of the west wing that had taken a direct hit from the strike. Brielle slipped past the crowd with Reid at her heel, and no one spared them a second glance.
Donna had woken nearly an hour earlier. The second she learned Daniel and Brielle had been closeted alone in his study, she’d been too restless to stay in her chambers, too anxious to barge in uninvited. She’d paced a hole in the rug of her sitting room, twisting her handkerchief between her fingers until her knuckles whitened, waiting for any word that Brielle had left.
When she finally heard the murmur of voices down the hall confirming Brielle was gone, she’d hurried straight for Daniel’s study, only to be stopped short at the door by Owen.
“Ms. Donna Whitmore,” he said, his tone polite but firm. “Lord Daniel’s wound is grave. He’s resting undisturbed right now.”
Donna froze mid-step, her blood turning cold in her veins. Daniel’s study had always been off-limits to everyone but him-Brielle could walk in whenever she pleased, but Donna? She’d never once been invited past the threshold. Was this his way of saying he truly suspected her of stealing Brielle’s credit for the engagement to Daniel?
“You should return to your chambers and rest,” Owen added gently, giving nothing away.
Donna snapped out of her spiraling thoughts and turned on her heel to leave. Owen didn’t even offer to escort her back. By the time she reached the end of the corridor, her chest was tight with panic and bitter, roiling hatred. All of this was that wretched Brielle’s faul
Lightning warding array? Please. She knew that simpering, clueless fool Brielle better than anyone. There was no way she actually understood anything about arcane arrays and energy flow. She was just putting on a show to make herself look useful.
The more Donna thought about it, the more her anxiety coiled into something sharp and deadly. No. She couldn’t keep playing the fool. She couldn’t let Brielle live another day to ruin her. She had to get rid of her,
and soon.
Brielle and Reid worked through the night to dismantle the array, piece by carefully disarmed piece. Once the last runestone was pulled from its hiding place in the foundation, Reid collected all the components to dispose of properly, and Brielle headed back to her chamber.
Even with the array gone, though, the astrolabe tucked the sleeve of her wool gown still hummed and trembled against her arm. There was a thick, sour thread of malignant energy lingering somewhere in Clarke Estate-strong enough to rouse the heirloom, even though something else in the house was currently holding it back.
There were dozens of small, poorly placed structural choices and old ancestral relics that threw off the flow of energy through the sprawling estate, but none of them were potent enough to make the astrolabe thrash like this. The source was something much bigger, much darker.
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Chapter 15 Sarah’s Last Attack
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Clarke Estate was massive, sprawling over dozens of acres of grounds with dozens of unused wings and forgotten cellars. She couldn’t very well pull out her astrolabe in front of Reid and wander every hidden corner of Daniel’s family home looking for a haunting, not when she was still proving she could be trusted. For now, she’d have to keep the odd sensation to herself and wait for the right moment to investigate.
When she pushed open the door to her chambers, she found Violet already had a warm supper waiting for her on the side table by the fire.
“Lady Brielle, the whole house was talking about the lightning strike tonight,” Violet said, hurrying over to take her damp cloak and hang it by the hearth to dry. Her soft brow was creased with worry. “Are you alright? No one hurt you, did they?”
“I’m fine,” Brielle smiled, shaking her head. She pulled two wooden bowls from the tray and set one in front of Violet, then nudged a spoon into her hand. “From now on, just set an extra place. Sit. Eat with me.”
Violet shifted awkwardly on her feet, twisting the hem of her plain linen maid’s dress between her fingers. She hesitated for a long moment, then blurted out, “Why are you so good to me, Lady Brielle? Clara down in the kitchens says I’m the stupidest girl in the whole staff. I can’t believe I was lucky enough for you to pick me to be your personal maid. What did I ever do to deserve it?”
Brielle blinked in surprise, setting her fork down. “You believe her just because she calls you dumb?”
She leaned forward a little, her tone soft but firm, when she saw how tight Violet’s shoulders were with nerves. “You know your own body better than anyone, don’t you? I’m only doing this because I want to save your life. That’s all. I’ve already spoken to Daniel-you’re my maid now, officially. From this day forward, you stay with me, and you only answer to me. Got it?
“Whatever anyone else says about you, don’t give it a second thought. As long as I don’t think less of you, you don’t get to put yourself down. Understand?”.
Violet’s eyes went wide with shock. Then her chin crumpled, and she dropped straight to her knees in front of the hearth, her voice thick with tears. “I’m so awful. I listened to them. I even wondered… I wondered you had some other reason for being so kind to me. I’m so sorry, Lady Brielle. I never should have doubted you.
“From now on, I’ll do anything you ask. Anything at all. ll listen to every word you say, I swear it,” she whispered, and Brielle could hear the suppressed sobs caught in her throat.
“Alright, enough of that. Get up. Sit down and eat before the stew gets cold.” Brielle leaned forward, and pulled Violet back to her feet, pushing her gently onto the wooden bench beside the table.
Not ten minutes after they’d started eating, there was a soft knock at the door, and Reid appeared in the threshold, his cloak still dusted with night air. His first question was blunt as always. “What herbs do you need for your treatment?”
Violet hurried to fetch parchment and a quill from the writing desk by the window. Brielle jotted down the full list of ingredients she needed for the remedy that would start flushing the poison out of her system. The herbs were rare, and not cheap, but for a noble house as old and wealthy as the Clarkes, it was nothing. She folded the parchment and handed it over to Reid.
He nodded once, tucking it into his inner tunic pocket. Very good. I’ll have the apothecary lay in all of these. You can send for them whenever you’re ready.”
“Good. From now on, Violet will come to collect them for me,” Brielle said, meeting Reid’s eyes evenly. It was a clear message. “Don’t stop her, don’t question her, ust let her have what she needs.”
Reid nodded again, and took his leave.
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Chapter 15 Sarah’s Last Attack
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No sooner had the door clicked shut behind him than a strange, inky shadow drifted past the leaded glass window. Violet flinched back against the wall, her spoon clattering into her bowl. “What was that? Did you see that?”
Brielle looked up, and through the crack between the door and its frame, she caught a flash of pale skin and a pair of glowing, resentful eyes, fixed right on her.
Violet was white as a sheet with fear, but Brielle didn’t even flinch. She called out, cold and sharp, “What are you doing creeping around my door at this hour, Sarah Trying to scare me? It won’t work.”
Caught red-handed, Sarah wrenched the door open so hard the brass handle banged against the plaster wall, and came flying at Brielle like a wild thing. Her hair was hanging in unbrushed tangles around her face, her nails were long and sharp as she lunged, and she screamed, “I’ll kill you! You ruined me! I’ll haunt you even beyond the grave, you witch!”
Violet was shaking so hard her whole body trembled, but she still scrambled to step between Brielle and Sarah. Sarah shoved her so hard Violet went flying, crashing into the side table and landing hard in a heap on the floor.
Sarah threw herself onto Brielle, scratching and clawing at her face like a madwoman. Brielle caught her wrists in both hands, twisted hard, and shoved her back hard enough to send her stumbling into the stone
hearth.
“You brought this ruin on yourself,” Brielle said, her voice icy, no trace of sympathy or pity in her tone. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t stooped to such dirty, underhanded tricks to steal my place. What happened to you is your own doing, not mine.”
Sarah picked herself up off the hearth, her gown smudged with ash, and screamed at Brielle, wild eyes blazing, “I spent ten years waiting for this! I was this close to marrying Daniel, to having everything I ever wanted! It’s all your fault, you fat, useless bitch! You ruined my whole life! I hope you die screaming in a ditch!”
She looked truly terrifying, face twisted with so much rage.
But Brielle just tilted her head and smiled faintly. “You don’t have the power to make me die any horrible death. Save your breath for something useful.”
She could see it, plain as day-death hung heavy over Sarah’s face, a gray shadow clinging to her cheeks. She already had one foot in the cold ground. She didn’t have weeks left, maybe not even days. This outburst was just her last, mad burst of rage before the end.
Furious beyond words, Sarah scrambled to her feet and lunged again, both hands outstretched to wrap around Brielle’s throat. Her face was twisted into a mask of pure madness.
Brielle cursed under her breath-her body was so heavy and slow right now, she couldn’t dodge out of the way in time. She had to meet Sarah’s attack head-on. They grappled back and forth across the chamber, Sarah snapping and clawing like a rabid dog, until Brielle finally managed to get enough leverage to shove her back through the doorway and slam the oak door saat in her face. Sarah pounded and screamed and kicked at the panels for a full five minutes, until her voice went hoarse and she finally stumbled off down the corridor.
Violet got slowly to her feet, brushing ash off her dress, and stared at Brielle wide-eyed. “Lady Brielle… you’re so quick. I never would have thought you could row her like that.”
That made Brielle laugh out loud. “Are you saying I’m a surprisingly nimble fat girl?”
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Chapter 15 Sarah’s Last Attack
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Violet’s face went bright red, and she waved her hands frantically, shaking her head so hard her braid came undone. “No! No, that’s not what I meant at all! You’re not fat. I didn’t say-”
“Don’t panic. I know what I look like,” Brielle said, still smiling, waving off her flustered apology.
These days, she could barely stand to look in a full-length mirror. She was so heavy that even a half-mad dying girl like Sarah could grapple with her for minutes on end. Back when she was at her full strength, in a fit body? Sarah would never have even gotten close enough to touch the hem of her gown.
Right now, flushing the poison out of her system to save her life was her first priority. But fixing this ruined, overweight body was a close second.
She leaned back against the mantel, letting her mind drift back to the life the old Brielle had lived. Once, when she was a little girl, she’d been the most beautiful young lady in the city. She could play the lute, recite poetry, sketch landscapes, and handle a rapier better than most squires. Before she’d even turned fifteen, half the noble houses in the kingdom had sent envoys to ask for her hand in marriage.
Then, when she was thirteen, she’d gotten sick. Almost overnight, she’d started gaining weight, growing bigger and bigger by the month.
After that, Brielle became the biggest laughingstock of the kingdom’s nobility. Her own father was so ashamed of her he wouldn’t let her leave Whitmore Manor, and she’d shrunk into herself, insecure and terrified of what people thought of her.
Donna, meanwhile-Donna had flourished, right alongside Brielle’s decline. No one ever mentioned she was the illegitimate half-sister, the bastard born of her father’s affair with a serving girl. Most people assumed she was the rightful Whitmore heir.
Now that she thought about it, that “medicine” the old Brielle had been taking for years was more than suspicious. It was all but certain that it had been tampered with by her dear, sweet, loving half-sister Donna. Donna had always been such a perfect actress, so good at pretending she cared, that the old Brielle had never once suspected her. Not once.
That just made fixing this poisoned, overweight body even more urgent.
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Fate Binds Me to Lord Clarke
