Chapter 22 Fainting in Blood
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Vincent fixed his gaze upon Brielle and let out a contemptuous snort. “Lady Brielle? Hah! Lord Daniel allowed the matter to pass only because he wished to avoid shaming both households. Do you truly imagine that you were permitted to become Lord Daniel’s wife because of your comely face or any particular gift? You do not even grasp your own place. Whom do you suppose you may command with that empty title? You have brought nothing but disgrace upon the Whitmore name!”
Vincent’s biting words sent a sharp chill straight through Brielle’s heart.
This man was her own father.
She had never imagined her father would utter words so vicious and so wounding. Each syllable drove into her chest like the point of a dagger.
Her sole purpose in this world, it seemed, was to bring honor upon the Whitmore household. With her ungainly frame and plain, unlovely features, all she had ever delivered was derision and scorn. Thus she stood as the family’s greatest shame.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips, though her eyes remained as cold as winter stone. She felt no lingering bond with this family whatsoever-not a shred.
A servant strode forward bearing a rod of blackened oak thick as a man’s forearm, and placed it into Vincent’s waiting hands.
Vincent took hold of the family rod of correction and swung it with brutal force against Brielle’s back.
The first heavy blow drove the breath from her lungs and sent a spray of blood from her lips. Her cumbersome body pitched forward toward the ground from the sheer impact.
Yet the servants who gripped her arms were sturdy fellows and did not release their hold.
Before she could even draw a ragged breath, the next strike landed across her shoulders once more.
She had not the strength to withstand Vincent’s full might. That single blow made her feel as though her very insides were splintering apart. Agony rippled through every limb. She drove her fingernails deep into her palms, drowning in a tide of helpless fury.
Blood streamed from her mouth, drenching the front of her gown. A dark pool began to spread across the flagstones beneath her-a ghastly sight to behold.
Gritting her teeth until they ached, she summoned every last shred of strength within her and wrenched herself free from the two servants who restrained her. Then she screamed at Vincent, her voice raw and cracking. “I, Brielle, do hereby sever every tie with the Whitmore family! Only give me back the token my mother left behind!”
Her
eyes blazed red and swam with unshed tears. The blood filling her mouth made her words thick and muddled, yet that declaration carried such fierce and unyielding force that it struck every soul present to the core.
But her outburst only served to stoke Vincent’s rage to a greater heat. His face contorted with fury as he tightened his grip upon the oaken rod and struck her yet again. “You wicked, ungrateful girl! I shall beat you until you breathe no more! Who taught you to speak of severing ties with your own blood?”
Brielle could offer no resistance. Pain had numbed her entire body. A thick fog swirled inside her skull, and she could scarcely cling to consciousness. All she could hear was Violet’s frantic shrieking and weeping.
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Chapter 22 Fainting in Blood
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Blow after blow rained down upon her flesh. She curled in upon herself as best she could, trying to shield her vitals.
“Stop! Cease striking her! You will kill her! She is my lady! How can you do this…” Violet was held fast by another pair of hands, sobbing so violently she could hardly draw breath.
Just when Brielle felt certain her body could endure no further punishment, a cold and cutting voice rang out from somewhere ahead-
“Hold!”
Every person in the courtyard froze and lifted their eyes A man arrayed in fine garments strode toward them with unhurried, deliberate steps. His entire bearing radiated an icy stillness.
Daniel let his gaze fall upon Brielle where she sprawled upon the ground, her clothes sodden with crimson. His frown deepened by several degrees. He had caught the tail end of her fierce declaration-those resolute words about cutting all bonds with her family-and they had startled him. How many women in all of Kinston would possess the nerve to utter such a thing?
He had observed of late that Brielle’s manner had undergone a shift, yet he had never anticipated hearing such a pronouncement from her lips. There had been true steel in her voice. The woman actually possessed a spine of her own. It forced him to regard her in a somewhat altered light.
After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped through the gate.
“Lord Daniel, I had not expected you to grace us with your presence,” Vincent said hastily, clasping his hands together in a show of deference. “I was merely administering the family discipline to my wayward daughter. Pray, pay no mind to this unsightly scene.”
After all, his daughter had shamelessly stolen her sister’s place at the wedding altar, and Vincent knew full well that he occupied the weaker position in this affair. His demeanor turned distinctly more humble.
Yet Daniel’s countenance remained as chill as ever. He glanced briefly toward Brielle upon the ground. “What transgression has she committed that is so grievous it compels you to beat her with your own hands in this fashion?”
Vincent’s expression soured considerably. He answered with visible discomfort, “I was informed that she has caused you no small measure of vexation within the Clarke family. The fault lies entirely with me for failing to raise her properly. You were generous enough not to cast her aside, and so it falls to me, naturally, to correct her conduct and ensure she brings you no further trouble.”
Observing Daniel’s frosty mien, Donna held her breath Could it be that Daniel had come to speak on Brielle’s behalf?
But then Daniel opened his mouth, and every trace of worry drained from her heart.
“So the matter concerns events at Clarke Estate,” Daniel aid. His features remained composed, but his cool voice sliced like a honed blade. “In that case, Brielle is indeed in want of a sound lesson. Truth be told. I believe you did not strike her nearly hard enough.”
Brielle had only just been hauled upright by Violet with tremendous effort when Daniel’s words reached her ears. She lifted her head and met his gaze-a stare so cold it bordered on revulsion. It felt as though a knife had been thrust into her chest and twisted. The pain was scarcely endurable.
She had thought, for one foolish moment, that he had come to rescue her out of some flicker of kindness.
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Chapter 22 Fainting in Blood
But no-he had arrived solely to grind his heel into her while she lay bleeding.
Finished
A bitter, hollow laugh escaped her. Her head swam with a thick, heavy fog, and then the darkness swallowed her whole.
“Lady Brielle!” Violet shrieked in blind panic.
“Oh, well…” Vincent stood momentarily dumbfounded by Daniel’s remark. Not hard enough?
Daniel’s voice dropped to an even colder register. “Unless, of course, Mr. Whitmore, you intend to deliver a corpse back into my keeping. In that event, I daresay you have been far too gentle with her, have you not?”
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Fate Binds Me to Lord Clarke
