Beautiful Torment *Book One of the Beautiful series*

8) Thorish Manor

Lucy squeezed the bench beneath her as they came to a stop near the large main entrance. Despite the late hour, servants flocked to the carriage immediately. It seemed that each one of them had their very own purpose and designation-someone to tend the horses, one to unload the luggage, another to open doors and offer Lucy a hand to help her down off the carriage. When her feet touched the ground, she turned, half expecting Alexander to follow. A deflated sort of feeling filled her when he did not.

Why would he? He is just a servant, like you. He has work to do, Lucy chastised herself.

"I will be in after I settle the horses," he said, catching her look of disappointment. "An expert once told me they need to be dried, brushed, and fed. Or something along those lines. A smirk pulled at the corner of his handsome face, and Lucy felt her breath catch. He was teasing her.

She could not hold back a small grin of her own, but it vanished when she caught sight of the Duke's sneering face exit the carriage. The swarm of servants fussed over him, and he did not spare his new servant a look as he passed but simply called in a barking voice, "Come, Victoria."

Lucy spotted the girl flinching within the carriage. She did not hesitate to rush to her side, finding her stricken-wide blue eyes and face pale as a ghost apart from the many cinnamon colored freckles that decorated it.

"I am scared, Lucy," she whispered, shaking under her soft green cloak. "T-the things he said...the things he said he is going to do to me on this night...and the nights to come..." tears trailed down her cheeks.

Lucy reached forward to clutch the girls trembling fingers and squeezed. She wanted to say something comforting to reassure her friend, but the Duke's biting voice cut her off. "I said come!" He snarled, stopping just before the doors being held wide open by servants. She bit her tongue, despite how much she wanted with all her heart to scream at the horrible man that her friend was not a dog; but deep down knew it would only bring further torment to Victoria. That he would punish her out of sheer spite knowing that would hurt worse than any punishment he could inflict on the young maid herself. She helped the girl climb out of the carriage, glancing one last time at Alexander as he urged it off, and they were whisked forward by the excess of servants trailing behind their master.

His voice echoed in the great hall when they entered, ringing out to be heard by all.
"This is Victoria Bailey. She is my new mistress and should be treated as such. We hunger and tire from the long travel. Bring her and her maid to the Tower rooms. Have dinner brought to each of us." He paused before turning to face them both straight on. His putrid green eyes met Lucy's. She quickly looked to the ground as she had been taught to do all her life. "You, maid, prepare my prize. I want her cleaned and dressed. One of my servants will bring the appropriate attire."

Just like that, he strolled away, with his group of servants in tow. The only one remaining was a young boy, dressed in the same impeccable manner as the adults. For being so young, Lucy was surprised to find not a single spec of dirt on him. He silently led them further into the gigantic building, with each step the dreadful feeling returned.

When they reached the stairs to the Tower rooms, it felt never ending. Lucy's legs ache in time with her hungry stomach as they climbed, following a mousy servant up and up and up. By the time they reached the top, it was an effort not to faint from exhaustion and a dizzy spell. She had not eaten since the early morning, which was a weak cup of tea and buttered toast. Though Victoria was sent away full off an elaborate dinner, the Madam had hissed that Lucy was no longer her responsibility so it was not her job to provide meals.

She rubbed a hand over her grumbling belly and wondered if she would be able to slip away to the kitchens after helping Victoria prepare. Even an apple or slice of cheese would do.

"Your room is in here, Mistress," the boy said, smiling warmly at the younger girl. The kind gesture did not last when his eyes slid onto Lucy. Instead their deep brown seemed to harden over as though the girl was somehow a threat to him. "You, maid, will have the room next door so you can tend to her quickly if she needs you." His cold demeanor did not phase Lucy. She was used to it from the other girls at Granston House, though a sliver of her feelings lay crestfallen. She had dared to hope things might be a little different here.

The serving boy opened the door to Victoria's bedroom and Lucy felt her eyes widen as they moved inside. A rush of warm air, smelling sweet of maple and ginger, brushed over their faces. The room was circular, like the tower, and decorated in soft shades of blush and ivory, with shimmering gold trim. An exquisite vanity was set up between the window and plush canopied bed. There was a fine dresser, with a small oak table and chairs placed next to it. A fire roared in the hearth, and a filled steaming tub dominated the center of the room.

"Your dinner, bags, and clothes will be brought up shortly. Please, bathe and prepare for the master. He does not like to be kept waiting." The kid did not linger for their response, but instead whisked from the room, closing the door.

A sense of panic rose up in her when she heard a lock click on the other side. They were trapped. Fighting her growing fear, she turned to her young friend, throwing all her attention onto her. Her young friend's face was still deathly pale and her gaze a million miles away as though she was a prisoner to her own tormenting thoughts. "Come back, Little Red," Lucy whispered softly, using the childhood nickname she had given the girl so many years ago.

Hearing it seemed to snap Victoria back into the present. She blinked and stared around the room, truly seeing it now. "T-this is where we will be staying?"

"You will. They have me in the room next door. If I did not know any better, I would say that second door connects the two, so I can reach you in an instant if need be." Lucy motioned towards the door on the far side of the hearth. She was tempted to go try the lock, but refrained, remembering the serving boy's warning to hurry.

Victoria nodded, still shivering from either the lingering cold outside or the sharp fear swirling in her veins.

Determined to help, Lucy gently nudged her arm. "Let us get you into that hot bath. The warmth will do wonders for your sore muscles after such a journey." Her hands helped to undo the light green cloak around Victoria's shoulders before she shed her own navy one. The roaring fire was already making her sweat. She undid the girl's spring green dress and the many layers beneath it until she was bare. Then she helped her step into the warm water, watching as Victoria sank down so low that the waterline skimmed her nose.

A wooden table had been placed next to the tub, sporting an assortment of little glass bottles and, more enticingly, a gold tray with a spread of green and purple grapes and three different kinds of cheeses. Lucy could not resist nabbing a piece of both and stuffing them into her mouth for a savory sweet combination.

She moaned softly and it drew a small laugh out of her friend behind her. "Hungry?" she giggled. To Lucy's delight, she seemed more herself.

Lucy nodded enthusiastically and chewed. "You have no idea," she said after swallowing. "Given the chance, I could eat this whole tray myself."

"Do it for all I care," Victoria said, sinking back low in the water. "I cannot eat a bite." Her expression darkened again, a clear look of unease reviving there.

Lucy's stomach twisted with sympathy for her friend. She longed to tell her that it would be alright, or at the very least what to expect from her first night laying with a man...but she really did not have a clue.

The madam had never let a man so much as touch her before. It had never made much sense to her. Lucy was not homely. In fact, she knew from lingering stares and comments from gentlemen and the Gardeners that she was actually quite fetching. A bit skinny and malnourished, but a pleasant face when it was not covered in grime and filth.

"It will be alright, Little Red," she finally said. Deftly, she pushed another grape past her lips before fiddling with each of the glass bottles. In turn, she undid their corks and brought them to her nose. Bath oils. Every one held a different and exciting smell-from warm clove, to spritely citrus, to soothing lavender and rose. She offered them out to Victoria who only shook her head.

"I do not care. You choose."