The Diary of Cozette (2 page)

I have been kept busy with my schooling. True to my mother’s words, my aunt Eleanor is a very stern woman and when I am not studying my lessons, she has me helping the housemaid with simple chores. I do not mind the work as it gives me time to think, but it does not permit me much time to write, which I am trying to perfect.

My cousin Edward, three years older than me, does little except to torment small helpless birds. I once caught him about to drown a new litter of kittens as a lark. The evil glint in his eye as he told me to keep silent on the subject, gave warning that I should stay as far away from him as possible.

~A.C.B.

I am at my wits’ end, for what has transpired I could perhaps endure if my aunt were not so blind. I have been here only a few weeks, and can see the rules that apply to me do not apply the same to my dear cousin Edward. Yet she insists that I am an evil influence in her house.

While I do not profess to be a model child, and admit that on occasion I am prone to moments of rebelliousness, I question the term “evil” which denotes malicious intent. I have never sought to be hostile, nor would I except for survival’s sake. My nature, prone to defiance, I admit comes from being the youngest and so doing what needs to be done for attention. However, in this horrible turn of events, I am not to blame, though blame surely has been adhered solely to me. I shall write you of this, Mother, if my aunt will allow a letter to come to you. Until then, I will place it here, for safekeeping.

Edward found me a few days ago minding my own business in the tree house built at the edge of the flower garden. It was his, I suppose, but I never saw him go there. I did not think it would do any harm to sit there and read.

Edward is a handsome lad, but it is a veneer surely over what lies beneath. Perhaps he is so privileged that it has muddled his reason, for his actions were not that of a gentleman.

I was reading, as my aunt insists I do at least four hours daily, after my chores to improve my skills. She said it would lift me from the depths of my poor social standing, and aid in seeing that I was a well-bred young lady, though I am not sure what she means by this. Her son is no more well bred than I am, apparently.

Unannounced and uninvited, Edward joined me in the tree house. His deceptive smile could not hide the mischief in his eyes.

“What are you reading?” He eyed me in a way I found most unpleasant as he sat down next to me. From his jacket he withdrew a bundle of worn postcards.

“Look here, what I have.” He grinned fiendishly, shoving the cards into my lap.

I kept my gaze on my book, hoping that if I ignored him he would soon tire of his torment and leave. Instead, he pushed the cards in front of me, blocking my pages. A gasp escaped my mouth as I stared at the pictures.

They were black and white photo images of near-naked women draped over beds and straddling chairs, some with barely enough sheer cloth to cover their private parts. I wagered his mother knew nothing of his collection, or surely there would be hell to pay.

Proud as if showing me his latest hunting catch, he shifted one after another for my inspection and I sat rigid between disdain and curiosity, wondering why he would choose to show me such indecent photos.

“A friend of mine at prep school pilfered them from his father. I find them intriguing, don’t you, cousin?”

I didn’t say out loud what I thought of him or his postcards. “I would like to read now, if it’s all the same to you.” I hoped that my statement would be enough. Edward had other ideas.

“I shan’t worry, cousin. I venture to say that one day you may yet look as ripe as one of these delectable ladies.”

He tucked the cards back into his jacket pocket as his gaze raked hungrily over me.

“You aren’t too unsightly even for your age and upbringing. A bit frail perhaps, but sure to possess all the right parts. My friend says that a man doesn’t require beauty to achieve satisfaction.”

I scooted away from him, sensing by his manner that the conversation between us was not one I was comfortable in pursuing. I was not at all aware of what he meant by “achieving satisfaction.”

“Now cousin, I wouldn’t harm a hair on your head, you know that. But being of the intellectual persuasion, I am curious by nature, and I am, as you may have noticed, a healthy male to which such urges are quite acceptable.”

I turned my attention to the swaying of the trees in the meadow beyond, considering how best to escape the confines of this conversation. An icy chill crept up my spine, realizing that we were yards from the house and Edward blocked my only means of leaving.

He moved closer, until at length I was wedged between him and the wall.

I tried in vain to wiggle free, but he pressed against me.

“Have you ever touched a real man?” he whispered near my cheek.

The question was so absurd that I turned my face away and suppressed a giggle that left some question I suppose to his virility, or lack thereof. His silence drew my attention back to his face, dark now with a look that struck fear to my heart.

Before I could move, he’d grabbed my hand and brought it to his crotch, forcing me to touch his member, quite small in retrospect. Still, his grip was strong and using my hand, he rubbed himself. His pallor began to change, first pasty and then to ruddy. His hand pressed down harder on mine, and I felt the hardness beneath his breeches.

“See now, what you’ve done, you naughty girl?” he declared with defiance. “You cannot scream, cousin, as I will only tell them that it was you who grabbed me and tried to seduce me. My dear mother already finds you a dreary addition to our house, she would sooner put you out with the dogs than believe ill of me.”

I tried again to pull my hand away, but he grabbed me about the neck and forced his mouth on mine, as he continued to wrestle with my hand beneath his. I battled inside whether to scream, or if what Edward conveyed was true. Would she throw me out on the streets?

He plunged his tongue into my mouth and I tasted blackberries and heat. His skin smelled of earth and boyish sweat.

I turned my head, lunging forward and tried to crawl away, but he grabbed me from behind and turned me forcibly to my back, his adolescent body covering mine, pinning me to the floor.

Thankfully, my squirming prevented him from using his hands to lift my skirt, but his manhood, still encased in his breeches, ground against my lower belly.

“Open for me, you bitch.”

I opened my mouth to scream, and he covered it with his filthy hand, as his hips ground against my skirts. I was mesmerized in horror by the look on his face. Helpless I lay there, a puppet to his animal behavior, afraid that no one would believe me. What he said was true. In the eyes of his most blind mother and father, he was their golden child.

From the house came my aunt’s shrill call, searching for Edward.

“No…time,” he groaned, pushing his crotch stiffly against mine. “You will pay dearly, cousin, for not complying. I swear.”

I closed my eyes, praying he would stop, fearful that if I moved an inch, he would do much greater damage. I lay still, my tears streaming from my squeezed tight lids, his bulging crotch pushing in a bizarre erratic movement against my clothed body. His breath caught and a groan followed. He fell exhausted on top of me.

My skin was clammy, drenched in fear.

He pressed his crotch once more against my belly and whispered with menace in my ear, “You will learn in time, dear cousin, how to better please a man.”

I pushed him off with all I had in me and scrambled with haste down the rope ladder, his laughter chasing me the entire way. I did not stop to think that I might lose my footing and break my neck. I was humiliated beyond belief, captive in my cousin’s horrid snare of deceit.

He leaned out of the tree-house window with a satisfied cruel grin plastered on his face.

“No one will believe anything you tell them, Cozette. You come from filth and filth you will always be.”

I ran until it was dark, hiding in the woods. I shivered inside a hollowed-out log after giving up my breakfast and wondered of my options. I would have to tell someone. He could not get away with this. I made the decision; never to be so vulnerable again.

And now, Edward has told his parents that I brazenly took off my clothes and tried to seduce him.

“It was awkward, Mother. I did not want to insult her and yet I did not know how to respond to such an advance. I—I’ve never seen a girl with no—”

“Enough,” his mother halted him with her upturned hand.

“You must believe me, Mother. I have treated her with the same regard as you, well aware of the circumstances of her
unfortunate
upbringing.”

I stared at the lying filth, astounded the same blood ran through our veins.

“Anne Cozette, what have you to say to these allegations?” His mother stood between us, her arms folded over her chest, her mouth stretched in a firm line.

“With due respect, Aunt Eleanor, what he says is a lie—”

Her expression changed from stern to one of horror.

“I was reading in the tree house, when he came upon me and forced himself on me most cruelly, like some wild animal.” I stood my ground, chin thrust upward in determination. I kept my hardened gaze on that of my weasel cousin. He would perhaps now receive justice for his offense.

“That is simply preposterous, child. Edward is no more capable of such vile behavior than am I. I would recommend dear girl that you immediately come forth with what truly transpired, or I shall be forced to consider your future here. Frederick, have you heard what she has said about your son?”

My uncle remained silent, removed from the conversation, as he sipped his tea and read his paper. He did not utter one word in my defense. The odds of the truth being revealed were dwindling by the moment and so I took a stand in my own defense. “I will not manufacture a story in order to appease your blindness, Aunt Eleanor. I have given you the truth and that is all I can offer.”

Edward’s lip curled to a sneer. He clasped his hands in front of him, playing the part of the innocent child with supreme dedication.

“You are a smart-mouthed little witch and I knew it the moment you stepped into my home. Very well, Anne, I have tried, most dutifully, and only in your dear father’s memory to bring you up properly. But I can see now that to allow you to remain endangers the upbringing of my child, and I cannot abide that. You give me no choice but to send you away from here. I can only hope that one day you will learn to become a respectable member of society.”

My heart stopped altogether. What was to happen to me? Was she sending me to a boarding school? “But you cannot, I have done nothing to cause this offense, you must believe me.”

“Frederick?”

My uncle at last drew his gaze to mine and seeing his haggard look, I knew he had no choice.

It did not take long for my aunt to arrange to send me away, citing that I was unruly and had tried to use my evil manner to corrupt her precious son. I will be sent to a place called Foxhead Asylum, a home for orphans with a strict code of conduct required by its proprietors.

“Perhaps they can manage to teach you what I cannot,” she sniffed, handing me my bag.

Over her shoulder, I could see Edward’s wicked grin, meant to mock me as the carriage ambled away. It only stiffens my resolve not to let him see me cry.

~A.C.B.

I’ve not had reason or desire in truth, until now, to continue my writing. The rejection of my family and Edward’s abuse has taken its toll. I was sure that coming to the orphanage I would most assuredly shrivel up and die, alone.

Elizabeth changed all of that with her arrival at Foxhead. Unlike other children who arrive in battered clothes, Elizabeth arrived wearing a lovely plaid skirt and a pristine white blouse. Her skin is pale and creamy, her eyes blue as a sunny winter day.

“My name is Elizabeth.”

I glanced up from scrubbing the front hall of the main house. I suspected that the Abbots had hired a new schoolmistress to teach us. “Anne Cozette, mum.” I rose to offer a clumsy curtsy.

She giggled.

“I am here as you are, a new resident of Foxhead. Mrs. Abbot instructed that I should find you and you would teach me the proper way to scrub floors.”

I looked at her fine clothing and my gaze traveled to her hands, soft and flawless, like the rest of her. “You’ve never scrubbed a floor?” I glanced down at my ragged skirt, soaked dark with muddy water.

Her smile permeated the darkness in my heart and from then on, we were inseparable.

We stole away together after the noonday meal and wrapped in blankets against the weather we perched on the railing of the back porch.

“Do you know
his
name?”

Elizabeth nudged me through the woolen blanket.

I followed to where she focused her attention. A young man, whom I had seen from time to time, was chopping wood and wore no coat. The sweat from his exertion caused his white muslin shirt to stick to his solid torso. “I think his name is Ernest.” I took a bite of a cold biscuit, savoring each precious crumb. “He works for Mr. Abbot.”

“He is very handsome,” Elizabeth remarked with a grin.

Her gaze was intent and I frowned, quite unsure what she saw as so remarkable.

“Have you made his acquaintance?” she prodded.

“Are you mad?” I stared at her in bewilderment, and then remembered she hadn’t been here long. “He’s a strange boy, quite of some strength you may have noticed—”

“Indeed, I had.” She giggled.

“We are quite defenseless here, you know. Anything could happen and no one would be the wiser. No thank you, I have kept to myself and been quite content as a result.”

She glanced at me and the corner of her mouth quirked in a sly grin.

“What notions are you entertaining, Elizabeth?” I looked at her warily.

“We were strangers once, just earlier today and look at us now. We are strangers no longer. Come on.”

She hugged her blanket tightly as she gingerly maneuvered down the narrow wood steps. I sat, jaw agape in amazement at her lack of regard for our safety, but did not know what more I could say. Obviously, I would have to trot along with her scheme to keep her out of trouble. With a loud sigh, I hoped she would see my disapproval as I followed but kept an eye out for Mr. and Mrs. Abbot. They would use the whip if they caught wind of fraternizing between the boys and the girls.

I grabbed Elizabeth’s arm. “What if the Abbots should see us? You can’t simply walk up and introduce yourself in plain sight. Come Elizabeth, I beg you to see reason. This is most unwise.”

Her gaze darted to the house. “We’ll pretend to be taking a walk and we’ll meet him near the cellar door where the wood is stacked. No one can see us on that side for there are no windows.”

I didn’t like the idea, but I had to admit the adventure of it sounded exciting! The last true excitement I’d witnessed was when one of the younger boys placed a mouse in Mrs. Abbot’s kitchen.

We sauntered past the young man, barely given notice when he glanced up at us. He gave no indication of interest, and instead brought his ax high over his shoulder and brought it down with a loud crack, splitting in two the chunk of wood before him.

Elizabeth grabbed my arm through the blankets and smiled as she led me in haste to the side of the house. Huddled together we waited. My toes began to numb from the chill and I wondered again at the folly of this idea. But her smile did not diminish in warmth. Had I remembered what it was like to have an older sister, Elizabeth would be my image of one.

As expected, Ernest came around the corner of the house, his arms laden with wood. He stopped and stared at us.

“I’m Elizabeth and this,” she pulled me to her side, “is Anne Cozette.”

“Just Cozette, that’s what I prefer.” I glanced at my beautiful friend. She was clearly smitten with the Abbots’ handyman. I could not tell if the regard was mutual.

“Mr. Abbot does not take well to the residents interacting with one another. Especially the boys to the girls,” he replied.

“You make a simple hello seem like an obscene thing. I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name?”

“His name is—” I received an elbow in my side.

“I did not offer it, but now it would be rude not to. I am Ernest, milady.” He attempted a bow, but it cost him his balance. The wood tumbled from his arms. “Bloody hell,” he mumbled as he stooped to pick up the wood. “Oh, pardon my language,” he uttered with a passing glance.

Elizabeth rushed forward to his aid whilst I hung back, afraid of…I wasn’t quite sure.

The wood properly stacked in his arms, he thanked Elizabeth and returned on his way to the stack piled high inside the lean-to next to the house.

“Elizabeth?” Mrs. Abbot’s shrill voice called from the back of the house. Without hesitation, Elizabeth scurried around to the front of the house, making it appear she’d been out for a walk.

I spied a forgotten piece of wood on the ground and snatched it up. Tripping on my blanket, I skidded to a stop in the damp grass, jabbing Ernest in the back with the end of the log.

“My apologies. You left this one.”

His smile was tight, but his dark eyes snapped with warmth. “Cozette, is it?”

“Yes,” I whispered in a brief response hoping that Mrs. Abbot wouldn’t come round the back of the house and catch us.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He smiled then and put out his hand in greeting.

Cautious, I drew my hand from the confines of my blanket and accepted his. It was callused from work, but a firm grip, solid and strong. I sensed camaraderie betwixt us that I cannot explain. “Delighted,” I responded with a slight curtsy and dared not tarry though I had the unspeakable urge to do just that.

He smiled and I slipped from his grasp. All the way back to the porch I kept my head down and did not look back. Visions of cousin Edward taunted my memory and guilt besieged me. I hated my cousin at that moment.

I do not know what my future at Foxhead holds, but Elizabeth gives me hope and sparks my desire to take pen to paper again and write. In the most depressing of situations, her smile and her kindness are a breath of spring. Now there is Ernest. Perhaps between the three of us, we will manage through these years until we are old enough to strike out on our own.

~A.C.B.