THE CRY FOR FREEDOM (Winds of Betrayal) (14 page)

“This is to be yours, Sweetie. It's not much, but it's clean.
Mr. Clay will call you down when he's ready. I have to get back to my duties. I'm sure it won't be long.”

Hannah looked back at the woman who seemed quite uncomfortable. “Thank you, Mrs. Hayes. I’m sure I will be fine.”

Unable to contain her relief, Mrs. Hayes hurriedly excused herself. Hannah watched the woman close the door behind her and she was alone. Desolation and utter wretchedness threatened to overwhelm her.

Her grandfather had sent her a
clear message. For the first time since she made the decision to come to New York, she wondered if she had chosen wisely. Then the memory of her mother encompassed her. Hannah saw her mother lying in a puddle of blood… dead… her father… William.
No. I had no choice. No matter what she had to endure she would make them pay for her family’s deaths.

The room was bare, containing only
a small desk with a lamp and a hard back chair along with a tiny bed. A small closet chest sat in the corner. She sat down upon the small bed and waited for her summons. It didn't come. She stared at the blank walls until the walls that had been silvery in the day faded to a rosy tint. A knock came, but it only brought a supper tray. Her belongings had yet to be brought up to her. She lay on the bed and eventually her eyes closed.

Sleep must have come
since she dreamt. In a haze she ran through the plantation house, trying to escape. She was screaming for her mother. Bolting out the back door, a faceless man on horseback descended down on her. Crying out for help. None came. Then a screech startled her, wailing and sobbing ensued all around her. As in a trance, she walked toward the mourning. In front of her emerged the sight of her father and brother hanging from the giant oak tree…their eyes…wide open but neither were lit with life. In the distance an eerie malevolent resonated around her…she turned. Her uncle stood laughing at the sight before her. She screamed.

Hannah awoke. She was cold. She reached down and pulled the blanket about her, but her trembling didn’t cease. The realization of where she was swept through her. She wanted nothing more than for Mother Agnes to take her in her arms and comfort her…but there would be no comfort for there was no comfort to be had. She was no longer the cherished daughter. The world she had known was no more. She was alone.

There would be no sleep for Hannah the rest of the night. Before
the sun rose, she slipped her feet down from her bed. The cold emanated from the bare floor. She looked out her window. A fresh blanket of snow had fallen during the night. She quietly eased open her door. She couldn't stay in her room any longer.

An uncanny stillness greeted her. All must have been asleep. She continued down the staircase. Hearing noises
from the kitchen, Hannah gently eased the door open to be met with glares from the three servants within. Confused looks fly around the room, unsure what to do with her.

“I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep,” Hannah said. “And I was cold. Can I come in and warm myself?”

Finally, the heavy set woman with the graying hair ushered Hannah to a vacant chair around a rather large table. “There, there, child! You must be Mr. Clay's granddaughter. We had heard.”

She patted Hannah’s hands. “Oh, child! You are freezing.” She gave a
troubled look to one of the girls at the end of the table.

“Let me introduce everyone. I'm Mrs. Carlton, the cook,” she pointed to herself. Then she nodded her head to the other two. “This here is Miss Trant and Miss James. You'll warm up in a few minutes. No one is usually up yet. It's cold in the other rooms until we get everything warmed up. Let's make you
something to warm yourself up a mite.”

“Thank you,” Hannah said, but not much more. Neither did the women ask. In all probability, they had no need. Her father always said that
the servants knew more about their lives than they did themselves.

Soon Hannah sat with a small plate in front of her. She hadn’t realized how hungry she had become. She ate and listened intently to their conversation and
learned quickly she lived now in a far different household.

Her grandfather ruled with an
iron fist where his word was law; a Loyalist household where King George was endured. None within these walls held sympathy for the cause which Hannah held dear.

Hannah didn’t notice the time passing. Suddenly, hurried footsteps rushed into the kitchen. Mrs. Hayes abruptly stopped, catching sight of Hannah. Relief flooded her face.

“Oh, thank the good lord! I had no idea where the girl was. Mr. Clay…he’s all upset. He’s thinking she has taken off. He’s none too happy…oh, he’s not happy.”

“Calm down, Mrs.
Hayes. She's in front of you. We've looked after her real good,” Mrs. Carlton said.

Hannah smiled in
an amused way. She knew well she shouldn’t for Mrs. Hayes was in such a state. She pushed back from the table and stood, “Thank you for breakfast.”

“Quite right. Thank you,” Mrs. Hayes added, rushing Hannah out. “I had no ideal. I went to your room. Oh, my
heart. Thank goodness I found you.”

Hannah hadn’t a chance to explain her behavior. Mrs. Hayes seemed only interested in escorting her to her grandfather. Obediently, she followed the housekeeper down the corridor until they came to the study. The door already stood open.

Immediately upon entering, a sense of foreboding gripped Hannah. Framed against the window drop, her grandfather sat behind a large mahogany desk. Wooden shelves built into the wall filled with books surrounded the room. The giant windows sat covered by the curtains, not yet pulled to let in the sunlight. The room only lit by the fire that burned within the fireplace. He stared at her with a frown on his face, not as tall as she remembered as a child. His skin appeared as old as leather in the dim light. He had a beak nose and thin lips.

Hannah's legs trembled in his
presence with a sudden sensation of her insignificance. She turned her eyes toward Mrs. Hayes wishing desperately that she could leave with her when her grandfather dismissed his housekeeper.

“You may go now, Mrs. Hayes,” her
grandfather said with a flick of his hand.

Not withstanding his irritation, Mrs. Hayes gave Hannah a brief nervous smile and escaped out the door, closing it tightly.

Hannah stood unsure of what he wanted of her. She thought she had prepared for this moment, but she found herself fighting back a wave of nausea. She reprimanded herself greatly. She couldn’t show weakness.

Her grandfather said nothing for minutes. He stared at her as if assessing the situation. She had the distinct impression that she was to do nothing until commanded. He broke the silence. “You gave Mrs.
Hayes a startle this morning. That can't happen again.”

“I didn't realize,” Hannah
said. Suddenly she felt like a frightened child once more.

He cut
her off. “Let me make this as plainly as I can. This won’t happen again.” 

Hannah nodded. Despite herself, fear crept within her soul. This man who so maliciously and callously orchestrated her family’s deaths sat before her, staring at her with soulless eyes.

Her grandfather walked around his desk and stood before her. He commanded in a voice that resounded within the room, “You will obey the rules of this house. I won't have you uttering any of this independence nonsense. We're loyal subject of King George.”

She swallowed
hard afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

“Your grandmother has waited
patiently for you. She isn't well. I can't tell you how disappointed I was you didn't come sooner,” he said. He didn’t blink nor did he wait for an answer.” She has had this guilt about Emeline. She holds herself responsible when the blame lies solely upon that man, but now he has paid for his sins. I have made certain of that.”

Horrified by his words, Hannah
gasped. Her fear replaced by anger of almost a direct confession of her father's murder in her mind. She exploded, “I won't listen to your vilify my father! He was the best man I have ever known and loved. How dare you speak thus! My brother, William—”

She got
no further before the back of his hand slapped her hard across the face, sending her sprawling across the floor. He stepped forward toward her. From the anger irradiating from his tone, she dared not look up at him.

“I have been warned
of your insolence. Let this be a lesson to you. I won't tolerate such. This is your home. There is no going back, now. Do you understand? Do you understand?”

She crawled up on her two hands
and slightly nodded. Blood flowed from her nose. She held it best she could. He pulled her up by her shoulders.

“I don't want any misunderstandings
now, Hannah. It was your choice to come here, but now you are here. Learn quickly. I won't be questioned. I can assure you that you don't want to cross me. Understand me well, Hannah. Treat your grandmother well and things will go smoothly for you. If you choose not to do so, you will deeply regret it,” her grandfather….this man…Alexander Clay…warned. His eyes glared at her. “Do away with the mourning. There will be no mourning for that man in this house. It will only serve to upset your grandmother.”

Hannah turned her head.
She couldn't move or look up at him. Blood covered her dress, her face. The impact of the blow stung. 

“Go and get cleaned up. Your
grandmother is anxious,” he said impatiently. “I will send Mrs. Hayes up to you.”

Before she turned to leave, she
said in a low voice, “If you hate me so much Grandfather, why did you bring me here?”

Prepared for
another blow, but none came. Instead, he ignored her and walked back to his desk. She had been dismissed.

Walking out the study door, Hannah found Miss James waiting for her in the hall. Miss James’ eyes widen in disbelief at the sight of Hannah. Hannah could do nothing more than pull back her hand. She watched drops of blood fall to the floor. Glancing around to see if any eyes were upon them, Miss James wrapped her arms around Hannah in a protective manner and ushered Hannah down into the kitchen. 

“Good Gawd!” Mrs. Carlton
cried. “What has he done to the child?”

“I’m fine,” Hannah uttered
in a voice no louder than a whisper, but in the next moment a dam of tears broke.

She winced as hands went
round her. Miss James led her to a chair to sit. Through the blur of tears, Hannah saw Mrs. Hayes bounded through the door.

“Oh…,” Mrs. Hayes
stuttered, quickly composing herself. “This will never do. No, it will never do. Mr. Clay wants her in Mrs. Clay’s room.”

“Then we’ll clean her up,” Miss James offered. “Come, Miss Hannah. I’ll get you a dress of your cousin.”

Minutes later, Hannah was refreshed. The blood washed away; her hair brushed out and pulled back in a fashionable style. Her mourning clothing had been removed, replaced with the old gowns of her cousins. Miss James turned Hannah around.

“This will do. Don’t be
nervous about Mrs. Clay. Your grandmother is a very nice lady. You’ll be fine.” Miss James lightly squeezed Hannah’s hand. She took Hannah down the hall to Mrs. Clay’s bedroom.

With each step, Hannah
remembered the reason she came. Lanson’s words echoed within her mind.
It won’t be easy. You have to let go of your hurt or you will let it get in the way of what you hope to accomplish. If you let the emotions get the better of you, you’ll learn nothing. The hardest thing is to build a wall and place your feelings inside. Never…ever let them see. Cling to your goal. It is now, your mission.

Each step, the pain
throbbed within in, she pushed it back. Her breathing slowed.
I’ve come too far to fail now
. Any discomfort she ensued couldn’t be compared to what she left behind. The face of her family flashed before her. Her resolve surfaced once more. She had come with a purpose. In this she would do.

Coming to the door, Hannah thrust her shoulders back. With her head high, she walked into the bedroom with a large warm smile.

Propped upon fluffy pillows in the middle of a massive canopy framed bed, her grandmother lay in the midst of comfort. A room filled with grandeur, a large open room with high windows over viewing the extensive gardens. A frail small woman with thin silver hair, her grandmother greeted her with a gentle smile. No more a greeting than her grandmother would have
given to a stranger.

Then recognition lit in the old woman’s eyes. Tears welled. She held out her trembling hands. “My dear, I have waited ever so long for your return.”

With no hesitation, Hannah ran to the woman’s side and fell into her grandmother’s arms. “I too have wanted this,” Hannah said, gently hugging her grandmother.

Her grandmother clutched tightly to Hannah, digging her fingers into her so much it hurt. Hannah forced herself not to recoil with pain. Instead, she ever so carefully eased back and caressed the side of her grandmother’s face as tears escaped. Her grandmother grasped hold of Hannah’s hand, not letting go. “There is no need for tears, Grandmother. I’m here now.”