Finding Bliss (19 page)

He would kill her when she couldn’t be of further use to
him. But it was the
use
she dreaded more than her actual death. Bliss
knew exactly what he meant by “bargain.” He intended to ruin her before he
killed her, but he could do it in ways that would either be more or less
traumatic depending on his whim.

In her head she also saw several ways he could end her life
once he made a decision to do so. Some were more torturous and painful—stabbing
her, shooting her, beating her to death with his fists. Others were swift and
would end her pain quickest—a quick beheading with a razor sharp sword,
strangling her with a thin strip of metal about a foot long, and her least
favorite option of them all—drowning her in the river.

Fortifying her resolve, Bliss made her next move carefully.

“What if I tell you that I have no idea about anything of
the sort? I’m not usually privileged to visions about the material possessions
of life. I’m usually more in tune with relationships and people. My views are
more about people than things. What if I tell you that I know nothing that will
help you? What would you do?”

Bliss kept her questions calm. She wasn’t really baiting
him, she just knew that their connection wasn’t strong and to tell him
accurately about his future she would need to know more about him. And she had
no desire to get better acquainted.

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll take your pretty little
head off! You have no idea who you’re dealing with girl! You aren’t the first
of your kind I’ve ever known. And when my cousin wouldn’t tell me what I wanted
to know, I put him at the bottom of a pond and left him there to rot!”

“Why would you do that, sir? It obviously didn’t help you
find out any information,” Bliss interjected quietly.

Lord Westford paused to lift an executioner’s sword and
weigh it in his hand. He laid the blade down picking up a heavy claymore next. He
seemed to find the greater heft more to his taste.

“No, he merely told me before I killed him that he knew
nothing, same as you, and that the only future he could see involved a woman
with a similar gift. You have to imagine my surprise when I detected your
little slip at dinner the other night! I take it your companion knows nothing
of your talents?” He turned to stare at her in challenge.

“Dr. Benchley is doubtful of anything not explained by facts
or sciences. He chooses not to believe because it makes him doubt his teachings
or fear the ways of God. That is not important, though. What you want from me
is probably less available than it was from your cousin, you know. And you got
nothing from him who knew you fairly well, I gather?”

Her question seemed to make him pause to consider what she’d
told him. Bliss knew it would take all of her willpower not to break down under
the strain of this captivity. The only thing keeping her from losing the
tenuous control was the fact that she knew enough of what was going to happen
to forego the worst of the scenarios.

Still, Westford’s behavior was erratic. At any moment the
scene could alter on his decision. Bliss focused on keeping him calm. Lord
Westford suddenly began to laugh with dark humor.

“I may not have gotten any useful information from him, but
I got my paltry title which helped me make some headway to having what I really
wanted. Married a girl with a sizeable dowry, and now I have a lot more
influence. And my position as curator of the museum gives me access to things
other people aren’t privileged to touch much less smuggle in or out of the
country for grand sums!

“But I need to know how to make it grow. I want to see the
wealth getting bigger. Tell me what I need to invest in. Tell me what is going
to be a big money maker in the near future!” he demanded in a desperate tone.

“You won’t live long enough to see any industries of wealth,
I’m afraid,” Bliss remarked as he finished his demands. He turned sharply to
look at her face. Bliss didn’t flinch.

“Explain that to me. Is it because you are lying or you
honestly don’t think I know about progress? There are new things coming to life
every day in the world. Some of them are extremely valuable if you know enough
to invest in the ones which will be in the highest demand. Like pineapple farms
or new developments in weapons or the manufacture of textiles! All these things
had to come from somewhere!

“And the people needed money to get their ideas started! I
want to be able to push a new invention into being and make money when it grows
in demand! So you are going to tell me what’s coming.” Lord Westford maintained
his calm show until his monologue was done. Then he turned to face Bliss, his
face so close she could smell his hair as he shouted so loudly that he made her
eyes water, “TELL ME!”

“Lord Westford if I knew anything I would gladly tell you
the best economic marketing buys for the next forty years. But I’m afraid it
doesn’t work like that. Your cousin, bless his soul, wasn’t lying to you.

“I don’t have any information unless the person involved has
some sort of connection to me. Now, if you want to know about anything related
to my family, I’ll be most happy to give you every detail I have,” Bliss
replied coolly.

She knew getting upset or crying wouldn’t help her. He would
instantly tire of her theatrics and kill her to avoid the noise. Bliss waited
for his next move.

“You think I don’t know anything! Stupid girl. You predicted
the soup! You forget I know that! I saw your little umbrella trick, too.
Somehow you knew it would rain, so don’t lie to me,” he countered in a deadly
tone.

“I knew those things because they connected to
my
future. I would be eating the soup, and I would be getting wet if I didn’t have
my umbrella. I could predict those changes. But if someone designs an invention
somewhere unconnected to my life, I have no way of knowing about it until I see
it.” Bliss told him simply.

This made Westford very angry. He pulled his right hand up
toward his left shoulder and drew it swiftly across her right cheek. Bliss
hadn’t expected it because it was a split decision made by a madman. It nearly
unseated her.

She felt the sting of her cheekbone as the flesh began to
bruise, her inner cheek cut on the edge of her teeth leaking a metallic rustiness
onto her tongue. With her hands tied, Bliss also struggled not to fall over.
Her fear was what might happen if she hit the crate sitting nearby and lost
consciousness.

Rather than help her, Lord Westford simply looked at her
with a sneer. He pulled a watch from his pocket.

“It’s already after five. I’ve got to get back to the office
and make a few appointments before I head home. You are going to stay here and
try to think of something useful for me. And you’re to keep quiet. If I get any
word of anyone reporting strange sounds from the woods, I’ll beat you to death
and leave you in this room until the maggots run me out,” he said darkly.

Bliss was unable to avoid the creeping feeling and
involuntary shivers running down her spine.

Lord Westford took another length of rope and secured her
bindings to the hard ladder back of the chair. With two more pieces he had tied
her ankles tightly to the forward legs of the chair. Then without warning he
extinguished all the candles but one, which he took from its base and held in
his fist. Bliss knew he was doing this to prevent her from escaping by burning
off the ropes. She had a brief flash of being able to do it. He left her there
in the dark, slamming the door and locking it thus securing her prison as he
went.

Seated in the black darkness of the room, Bliss contemplated
scooting the chair over to the table and using one of the swords to free her
hands. But in two of the visions she cut herself in such horrible ways that she
was unable to use her hands to pick the lock on the door and bled to death.

In the third version of her possible escape she managed to
get the ropes severed without injury, but before she was able to unlock the
door, Westford discovered her mid-attempt. His behavior was so horrific upon
discovery that Bliss immediately abandoned the idea in order to banish the
vision from her mind before the images were burned permanently into her memory.

So instead of attempting the escapes, Bliss was forced to
sit quietly and wait for time to pass. She spent the hours playing through what
happened in the park and at Whisper Chase after her disappearance was
discovered. She could sense their panic on her behalf and hoped that her clues
were vital enough to do the trick.

Pauline, Bristol, April 1811

It was difficult to work for someone
like Lady Bliss. The girl knew how to make people do things without them
realizing! Pauline was mumbling mild complaints as she trudged over the gravel
walk toward the street closest to the museum.

She searched through three odd characters before she found a
vendor that actually had an ice block and lemon sweet water. When she had paid
for the small cones of waxed parchment, she had to walk quickly back through
the clusters of people before the melting ices dampened and destroyed their
receptacles.

She reached the bench and found no Bliss, merely her shawl
laid over the stone seat. Pauline sat and held the cones out over the grass and
waited. She nibbled a bit of her ice as she sat knowing Lady Bliss wouldn’t
care a whit if she finished hers before it melted.

Worry became tangible as the distressed maid visually
searched the areas of the park. She saw no one who looked familiar. Bliss
wasn’t usually one to wander away unless something alerted her peculiar senses where
she felt she could help.

Pauline continued to wait for nearly an hour before becoming
more than a little agitated. The second cone, Bliss’s ice, melted so far as to
be nothing but a damp, sticky wad of fragmenting parchment and wax. Abandoning
her post for only as long as it took to find a rubbish bin, Pauline returned
and used a handkerchief to wipe the sticky lemon/sugar residue from her hands.

New panic was beginning to bloom in her chest. Bliss never
stayed gone for long without either sending someone to report on her
whereabouts or coming back in person as soon as she was able to get away.

Suddenly it dawned on her what might have happened. Lady
Bliss was a wealthy heiress to a substantial family fortune. Perhaps some highwayman
had recognized her sitting alone and abducted her!

“Oh, no!” Pauline fretted aloud. Then she shook herself.

It was silly and nonsensical, running off without first
searching the area. Taking the shawl over her arms to hide the reticules,
Pauline began to walk the grounds of the park in search of her missing
mistress. She asked a few people of her class if they’d seen anyone fitting
Bliss’s description. None of them had seen her.

For another half hour Pauline continued to walk the grounds.
She wandered into the museum, looking through the rows and shelves of displayed
history to see if Bliss had gone in and uncharacteristically forgotten about
her.

When she completed the circuit, she asked the desk clerk if
he had seen a woman fitting Bliss’s physical characteristics. The young
gentleman said he’d not seen any blonde haired women that day.

Hyperventilation soon began to take over Pauline’s
breathing. She knew it wouldn’t help her cause to swoon, however, so she asked
the young clerk where she might find a constable or a guard to assist her in
searching for her missing lady.

The young man offered to help as the museum would soon
close. He told her he would continue to look for the woman and ask a few people
who were regularly in the vicinity while she ran to King Street to fetch the
constable. Pauline thanked the man and began to run.

Her first true obstacle in the search came in the form of
the constable himself. The man asked her to state her business as a finely
dressed young woman alone carrying two reticules was highly suspicious. Pauline
was so winded she could barely make coherent sentences at first. She forced her
lungs to breathe deeply for a full minute and then began to explain.

“Sir, begging your pardon, I’m looking for my mistress. She
was supposed to be waiting for me at the museum park, on the fourth bench on
the far side of the park, sir. I returned with ices she sent me for and sat on
this shawl, which belongs to her, for near on hours without seeing her.

“I searched the grounds and the museum and asked the desk
clerk to keep looking. But I am very afraid she’s been taken for ransom, sir. She’s
a very wealthy heiress. Her name is Deanne Bliss Porter, Lady Bliss Penwood. She’s
the second eldest daughter of the family, sir, and recently debuted. Her family
is from Cardiff. She’s staying with her honorary aunt and uncle here in
Bristol. Please, sir, can you take me there? Lord Osterburg will want to be
included in the search. He’s quite fond of his niece!”

Pauline’s pleas came out in a heady rush of new terror. Both
the Osterburg’s and the Penwood’s would be angry and devastated if anything
happened to their beloved Bliss!

“Oh, yeah? Well, let me say for the record that you’re the
best little actress I’ve seen in a fortnight! Do you know how many gels come to
me daily trying to get into that estate? It’s the second wealthiest family
manse in Bristol! Everyone claims an acquaintance with the Osterburg’s. But I
learned not to trust everyone who comes to me with that cock-and-bull story!”
the constable said with a dismissive snort.

He pointed her out the door. Pauline began crying in
earnest.

“No, please, sir! I’ll pay you! I need assistance! I’m
desperate! I’ve only been here a couple of weeks, and I can barely find my way
around Cardiff, much less a large city by myself! I only know the major
streets! I won’t be able to find her, and if anything has happened ...”
Pauline’s voice left her and the sobs became more frantic.