Page 4 of The Princes of Stone and Steel

“That isn’t how it works, Millie… you’ve been promised to him, you’re practically his wife already. Now… get dressed, and quickly. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“This isn’t fair.” Millicent threw the covers up over her head.

Margaret pulled them right back down, wrenching her sister out of bed by her wrist. “No. It certainly is not, but I warned you. I warned you time and again what would happen if you didn’t pull your head out of the clouds.”

She graciously helped Millicent ready into the young lady that Mr. Barnabas was expecting down in the parlor—corset, stockings and all.

Just as Margaret puffed the last patch of skin on Millicent’s face with powder, there was a knock on the bedroom door. Mother Merchant called into the girls. “He’s very irritated that you’ve kept him waiting so long. Please come, dear.”

“Announce me, Mum. I’m ready to be received.”

The women held hands as they descended the stairway watching Mr. Barnabas leave the parlor at Mother Merchant’s announcement of his bride-to-be’s readiness. He came to stand at the foot of the stairs awaiting her arrival, tapping his hard-soled shoe against the cherry floor board and staring at his pocket watch.

“It’s about time.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnabas… I was not aware of your intentions to call on me today. I was still in my bed clothes.” She held her hand out to him.

“Bed clothes, at this hour?” He refused her hand, opting instead for the elbow. “I won’t put up with idleness. You have duties, responsibilities. This will not happen again. For God’s sake, who do you think is going to tend to the children? Me?”

“Children?” She took a reverse step from the man.

“Yes, children,” he dinned back, clearly having taken great offense at her action. “Why else would I need a wife? Let’s go. Much to do and very little time in which to do it thanks to your lazy conduct.”

Mr. and soon-to-be Mrs. Barnabas exited the Merchant home and shuffled quickly into his waiting carriage. He spent the day lecturing Millicent about every expectation placed upon her by becoming an apothecary’s wife, while they delivered pills, elixirs and remedies of all sorts to homes around the county.Shespent the day trying to imagine herself away from the awful confronting reality looming so heavily. Imagining a far-off land as strange and beautiful as any storybook could proclaim.

At the end of the very long day, Leland dropped her back home, escorting Millicent to the front stoop. “I will be here first thing in the morning. Do not keep me waiting or the consequences will be fierce.”

“I’ll be ready, Mr. Barnabas.” She positioned herself to open the door, but he snatched her back, blocking her escape.

“I’ve arranged with your father to hold a modest ceremony at the end of this week.” He slid his hand over her bosom and squeezed somewhat painfully. “I’m quite ready to receive your wifely affections.”

She couldn’t hide her disgust and loathing at the idea of his decree, triggering fury to rage in his eyes. He squeezed his hand, harder and tighter, causing great pain. “You’d be wise to accept that this is your life now. In all aspects.”

Millicent pulled free from his grip, pushing open the door and shutting just as swiftly in the revolting scoundrel’s face, falling against the wooden surface to listen for his retreat. The only barrier between she and a fate worse than death.

Death. That had to be the solution because there was no way she could give vows to that man. No way she could let him touch her or bear his children. In all Millicent’s grand adventures, she never imagined her life ending so young, when she had so much life in her to live. Her father had takenthatchoice away. She cried no tears, resigned tothisdecision. One that no matter what, she made for herself.

Straightening up, Millicent shook out her skirt while trying to figure out the least painful means of meeting her maker when her foot kicked an object on the floor. It clinked lightly and made a rolling sound against the hardwood floors. She bent to search it out, despite the darkened room. The bauble in question had come to rest against the baseboard only inches from her.

The shape and feel of the item were instantly recognizable—a bottle—most likely an elixir, a fugitive from she and Mr. Barnabas’ earlier excursion. Millicent lit the oil lamp sitting atop the marble-topped demi table situated in the foyer for closer inspection.

Laudanum, a full bottle at that. Clutching it close, she ran through the house and escaped out the kitchen door to the outhouse behind the family home. Her solution to the Leland problem—a painless, sleeping death. Father would be the one to discover her, up at first light.Serves him right. The very idea that he could offer up his own flesh and blood to such a monster as Leland Barnabas was disturbing at best. He deserved to live with his pain, as he was so willing to force upon his daughter.

She pulled the stopper from the bottle and without a second thought, emptied the entire contents of liquid into her mouth. It burned blisters into the tender flesh of her soft palate, shocking her straight. She didn’t want to die. She wanted tolive. Live a life free of Leland Barnabas. Even more, if she were ever to marry, for it to be a man ofherchoice whom she loved more than the world. Millicent spat out the liquor, making a puddle on the floor of the latrine.

Kneeling down on that very spot, she sent a prayer into the night for the universe to guide her, to give a sign of what course to take. “I beseech you, show me the way.” Yet again, the tears poured from her sorrow-filled eyes. Then, in a brilliant moment of clarity, an idea sprang to mind. The universe once again did not let her down. “Why should I have to die to be rid of him?” The plan she formed was fraught with danger, yet if it worked out in her favor, would fill the girl’s life with the glorious adventure she so yearned for. “Thank you. Oh, thank you, universe.”

Millicent pulled herself up, exiting silently the outhouse and the garden. Quickly paced steps led her farther and farther from her home with the hope that she wouldn’t turn chicken and head back to her parents and life as Mrs. Barnabas.

Eventually, those quickened footsteps led Millicent to a sense of peace, as before her lay the edge of England itself and beyond, freedom—open, blue freedom. Or it would be blue once daylight broke. Now they were calm seas, black to the end of the world from the time of night. Eventually, the sun would rise and she would be ready for adventure… on to forever.

In the meantime, searching out a safe and inconspicuous place to rest her head for the remainder of the night became top priority. And she found that in a spot of netting nestled between two docks, the farthest away from the port ramps, and thus, the farthest away from people.

It was like sleeping on a hammock, not wholly uncomfortable and secure enough to allow a weary mind a bit of peace.

Millicent had just started to drift off, her eyes beginning to shut, her mind lulling toward a dream, when she saw them. Men, tall and thin, not the usual strapping sort to generally adorn an ocean voyager. Most of their characteristics remained skewed by the night, only their hair, which all wore long and tied back, was distinguishable by the reflected light of the moon as it shimmered from the tiny beads holding together thin braids. She’d never seen a man wear braids, let alone beads in his hair.

Most peculiar was their choice to load a ship in the dead of night, but that was neither here nor there. Although sailors, not a one carried himself like a pirate.

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