“Don’t touch me!” she cried, as his hand traveled down her arm and along her curves. He nuzzled her neck. She pushed him away, “Demetrius, get your hands off me!”
“Why Ms. Beckham, it was only last week you let me do much more than touch you!”
She slapped him, hard and full against the face.
It is not wise to hurt such a man, a voice whispered. She staggered back.
“Please, Demetrius don’t speak of it,” she said, “Its only that I…”
Don’t let him know the truth, the voice whispered.
His dark eyes pierced her. “You what?”
“I…I cannot be with you,” she said as the wind rustled her skirts. She turned away to leave, but he reached out and took her roughly by the arm.
“I know who you are Olivia; I know what you have seen.”
She pulled away, her gaze, intense.
“I know not of what you speak sir,” she tightened her jaw, “But I know that I never want to see you again,” she turned on her heel and began to walk away from him.
He was furious. “You are making a grave mistake!” he called after her. “You know not who you are dealing with!”
***
Olivia shuddered as her maid helped her out of her gown.
“Are you alright miss?”
“Yes Mary, I’m fine. Here take these undergarments to Harriet to wash.” She placed the clothes in Mary’s arms.
“Will you be wanting a skin of hot water to place by your feet miss?” Mary asked, stopping in the doorway.
Olivia shook her head. “No. Thank you, good night.”
“Goodnight miss,” Mary curtsied and vanished out the door.
Olivia collapsed on her bed, tears running from the creases of her blue eyes. The dream had been awful, the one that had told her about Demetrius and who he truly was. She had woken up from it sweating and feverish. It had shown his real self. She shuddered.
The self that had killed her brother, George, and assaulted her dear friend.
He had done well, keeping the truth from her, rolling lies from his tongue. George’s death had been disguised as an accident and Lydia had luckily not gotten pregnant, but the dream had shown the truth.
Something hit her window, and cautiously she got up and walked over to it, pulling away the drapes. She looked down and saw him, a gun in his hands. Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn’t move. He fired, shattering the pane. Falling to the floor, she realized no glass had dropped on the carpet. She looked back up at the window, seeing that there was no damage. Carefully, she stood up and looked out into the dark. Demetrius no longer stood on the grass outside her window. She had just been seeing things, imagining.
This is what will come to pass if Demetrius is not destroyed, a voice said.
She staggered back to her bed and slipped under the bedclothes, watching the candle on her nightstand flicker back and forth until she fell asleep.
***
The river was roiling; its dark murky waters seemed alive. She saw herself standing on the bridge, her skirts blowing in the wind, and a gun in her hand. Demetrius hung onto the edge. She raised the gun, her hands shaking. But then something happened, and the bridge tilted. Olivia took hold of the railing, dropping the gun into the churning water. She watched in horror as Demetrius fell.
“Olivia!” he screamed, “Olivia!”
“Olivia! Wake up!”
She startled, erupting from her bed, her skin clammy and hot. Looking up she saw her sister.
“Let go of me Charlotte!” she growled, rubbing her eyes.
“Sorry Livvy. But you were screaming,” her sister pleaded.
“It’s alright,” she placed her hand on her forehead, “I just haven’t been sleeping well lately.”
Charlotte sat down beside her on the bed. “I’m sorry. Mr. York is here. He is most determined in seeing you.”
Olivia grew faint. “He’s here? At this moment?”
Charlotte looked at her quizzically. “Why yes of course. Aren’t you happy?”
She groaned. ‘Oh Lottie, you don’t know the real him. He…”
Don’t reveal him, a voice whispered.
“He what?” Charlotte asked.
“He’s just not the one for me, Lottie. His attentions are beginning to aggravate me and he’s prideful and arrogant.” She threw off the bed sheets and swung her feet down to the floor. “Such a man is not for me.”
She took a gown from her wardrobe and slipped it on.
“Go downstairs and tell him I’ll be down in a moment.”
Charlotte nodded and went out the door.
She quickly tied her stays and did her hair, then went towards the door.
Stay strong Olivia, he can do nothing to hurt you, but be careful, he’s dangerous, a voice said in her ear.
She opened the door and descended down the wooden stairs. He spotted her, and came forward offering her is hand.
“My dearest Ms. Beckham.” He said with a snaky smile. Olivia took his hand.
He took it possessively. “Your father has consented to allow me to take you for a stroll to the river. Do you care if we went now?”
Her stomach fluttered. “Oh, I think …” he squeezed her hand, crushing it.
Charlotte caught the look of pain on Olivia’s face. “Are you feeling ill, sister? Maybe right now isn’t a good time Mr. York.” She took hold of her sister’s other hand.
Go with him to the river, the voice whispered.
What? Are you mad? This man will kill me! she thought.
Go, it whispered again.
Olivia pushed Charlotte’s hand away, her eyes pleading. “I will be fine Charlotte. We won’t be long Mr. York?”
He smiled down upon her wickedly. “Not long at all. Come along my dear.”
He dragged her towards the door, as she looked behind her at her sister whose eyes were filled with tears.
***
“You’re hurting my wrist!” Olivia cried when they were out of range of her house.
“Keep quiet!” he barked.
Tears began to fall from her blue eyes.
“Why are you treating me this way? What have I have done to you?” she stumbled and tripped over the hem of her dress, falling to dirt.
He heaved her back onto her feet. “Get up,” he growled then continued to drag her to the river. “It’s not what you’ve done to me, but what you will do to me if I do not dispose of you.”
She gasped, and pleadingly looked up at the skies.
Please, help me.
As they reached the bridge Demetrius shoved Olivia against a post, and placed the barrel of a gun on her temple.
“You know too much Olivia.”
She squeezed her eyes, waiting for him to pull the trigger, but it never happened, for suddenly lightening hit the bridge, snapping it in two.
He shrieked, and Olivia rushed to pick up the gun, as Demetrius fell, gripping the edge. She aimed, but never shot, for the bridge lurched and he lost his grip, falling into the churning water.
She lifted her head to the skies, letting the rain fall on her face.
Thank you.
“Why Ms. Beckham, it was only last week you let me do much more than touch you!”
She slapped him, hard and full against the face.
It is not wise to hurt such a man, a voice whispered. She staggered back.
“Please, Demetrius don’t speak of it,” she said, “Its only that I…”
Don’t let him know the truth, the voice whispered.
His dark eyes pierced her. “You what?”
“I…I cannot be with you,” she said as the wind rustled her skirts. She turned away to leave, but he reached out and took her roughly by the arm.
“I know who you are Olivia; I know what you have seen.”
She pulled away, her gaze, intense.
“I know not of what you speak sir,” she tightened her jaw, “But I know that I never want to see you again,” she turned on her heel and began to walk away from him.
He was furious. “You are making a grave mistake!” he called after her. “You know not who you are dealing with!”
***
Olivia shuddered as her maid helped her out of her gown.
“Are you alright miss?”
“Yes Mary, I’m fine. Here take these undergarments to Harriet to wash.” She placed the clothes in Mary’s arms.
“Will you be wanting a skin of hot water to place by your feet miss?” Mary asked, stopping in the doorway.
Olivia shook her head. “No. Thank you, good night.”
“Goodnight miss,” Mary curtsied and vanished out the door.
Olivia collapsed on her bed, tears running from the creases of her blue eyes. The dream had been awful, the one that had told her about Demetrius and who he truly was. She had woken up from it sweating and feverish. It had shown his real self. She shuddered.
The self that had killed her brother, George, and assaulted her dear friend.
He had done well, keeping the truth from her, rolling lies from his tongue. George’s death had been disguised as an accident and Lydia had luckily not gotten pregnant, but the dream had shown the truth.
Something hit her window, and cautiously she got up and walked over to it, pulling away the drapes. She looked down and saw him, a gun in his hands. Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn’t move. He fired, shattering the pane. Falling to the floor, she realized no glass had dropped on the carpet. She looked back up at the window, seeing that there was no damage. Carefully, she stood up and looked out into the dark. Demetrius no longer stood on the grass outside her window. She had just been seeing things, imagining.
This is what will come to pass if Demetrius is not destroyed, a voice said.
She staggered back to her bed and slipped under the bedclothes, watching the candle on her nightstand flicker back and forth until she fell asleep.
***
The river was roiling; its dark murky waters seemed alive. She saw herself standing on the bridge, her skirts blowing in the wind, and a gun in her hand. Demetrius hung onto the edge. She raised the gun, her hands shaking. But then something happened, and the bridge tilted. Olivia took hold of the railing, dropping the gun into the churning water. She watched in horror as Demetrius fell.
“Olivia!” he screamed, “Olivia!”
“Olivia! Wake up!”
She startled, erupting from her bed, her skin clammy and hot. Looking up she saw her sister.
“Let go of me Charlotte!” she growled, rubbing her eyes.
“Sorry Livvy. But you were screaming,” her sister pleaded.
“It’s alright,” she placed her hand on her forehead, “I just haven’t been sleeping well lately.”
Charlotte sat down beside her on the bed. “I’m sorry. Mr. York is here. He is most determined in seeing you.”
Olivia grew faint. “He’s here? At this moment?”
Charlotte looked at her quizzically. “Why yes of course. Aren’t you happy?”
She groaned. ‘Oh Lottie, you don’t know the real him. He…”
Don’t reveal him, a voice whispered.
“He what?” Charlotte asked.
“He’s just not the one for me, Lottie. His attentions are beginning to aggravate me and he’s prideful and arrogant.” She threw off the bed sheets and swung her feet down to the floor. “Such a man is not for me.”
She took a gown from her wardrobe and slipped it on.
“Go downstairs and tell him I’ll be down in a moment.”
Charlotte nodded and went out the door.
She quickly tied her stays and did her hair, then went towards the door.
Stay strong Olivia, he can do nothing to hurt you, but be careful, he’s dangerous, a voice said in her ear.
She opened the door and descended down the wooden stairs. He spotted her, and came forward offering her is hand.
“My dearest Ms. Beckham.” He said with a snaky smile. Olivia took his hand.
He took it possessively. “Your father has consented to allow me to take you for a stroll to the river. Do you care if we went now?”
Her stomach fluttered. “Oh, I think …” he squeezed her hand, crushing it.
Charlotte caught the look of pain on Olivia’s face. “Are you feeling ill, sister? Maybe right now isn’t a good time Mr. York.” She took hold of her sister’s other hand.
Go with him to the river, the voice whispered.
What? Are you mad? This man will kill me! she thought.
Go, it whispered again.
Olivia pushed Charlotte’s hand away, her eyes pleading. “I will be fine Charlotte. We won’t be long Mr. York?”
He smiled down upon her wickedly. “Not long at all. Come along my dear.”
He dragged her towards the door, as she looked behind her at her sister whose eyes were filled with tears.
***
“You’re hurting my wrist!” Olivia cried when they were out of range of her house.
“Keep quiet!” he barked.
Tears began to fall from her blue eyes.
“Why are you treating me this way? What have I have done to you?” she stumbled and tripped over the hem of her dress, falling to dirt.
He heaved her back onto her feet. “Get up,” he growled then continued to drag her to the river. “It’s not what you’ve done to me, but what you will do to me if I do not dispose of you.”
She gasped, and pleadingly looked up at the skies.
Please, help me.
As they reached the bridge Demetrius shoved Olivia against a post, and placed the barrel of a gun on her temple.
“You know too much Olivia.”
She squeezed her eyes, waiting for him to pull the trigger, but it never happened, for suddenly lightening hit the bridge, snapping it in two.
He shrieked, and Olivia rushed to pick up the gun, as Demetrius fell, gripping the edge. She aimed, but never shot, for the bridge lurched and he lost his grip, falling into the churning water.
She lifted her head to the skies, letting the rain fall on her face.
Thank you.
Shadowpomgurl
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