CWMBR 5

Chapter 5

***

She'd packed, but she hadn't really packed anything, because there was nothing she wanted to take with her, nothing that made sense.

After receiving the medication from Magnus, who was waiting outside, she locked herself in her bedroom. Her wide-open suitcase was less than half full. She thought she'd probably end up closing it. But she pretended to pack for nothing and shut her bedroom door firmly behind her. She didn't want to see Ain's face, even in passing.

It's funny.

It seemed like a dream that she once wandered the streets all day long, hoping to see his face from afar. Now that she thought about it, she was probably possessed by something.

Bridget smiled bitterly and turned away, her gaze catching sight of a table that sat plain and unadorned. It had been like that since she first came to the manor. The rest of the furniture, too, was pretty much sparse, except for the essentials.

In retrospect, she realized that everyone saw her as a piece of furniture that was nice to have in the mansion but not likely to be used. Looking back on her life here, she was indeed treated as such.

"......Glynford is what it is. Why don't you find a new home somewhere else?"

Glynford.

Memories of the past flooded back at the mention of that wistful, resentful name. Glynford. The free, vibrant city she grew up in, the city her parents loved. The city where her parents' only legacy lay.

She had told Magnus that she would return with determination, but honestly, Bridget was not so sure. The thought of the old Great Theater made her heart ache, and the thought of seeing it again made her eyes water.

She had even paid off some of the theater's enormous debt with her own money. It was an investment of sorts, but she wasn't sure if she'd call it that now that things had changed.

"You're not going to ask me to give you that money now..................."

To the man, it must have been nothing more than a grain of sand.

But he was a man who put a price on everything in the world.

His marriage to her was based on the value of the child in her womb, and now his public accusation meant that value was completely gone. He had invested in something that was worthless, so it was no wonder that he would change his demeanor to avoid losing money.

"The contract ................"

It was in the Grand Theater. Should she tell Ronan to pack it away, just in case?

With the news of her inheritance, Ronan must have thought about Ain's investment. Ronan was her uncle, after all, the man who had run the theater since her parents' deaths, and who had been at odds with Bridget over the direction it should take.

He wouldn't want to suddenly find himself in financial trouble again, so he'd have to have some sort of backup plan. Besides, it had been some time since she had paid off his urgent debts. The theater should be in better shape than it was before.

Bridget remembered the occasional reports she'd received. They didn't tell her much about the theater's current financial status, as they always said something about how many people Donna Greene was drawing, or how great she was in the eyes of the great and good.

Ronan was convinced that Donna Greene was the only hope for saving the Glynford Grand Theater.

There was a time when Bridget agreed with him and bet everything on Donna Green.

But now................. not so sure.

Should she keep her head down for Donna's sake, even if it means putting herself in this position? Bridget couldn't understand Donna's near-hateful behavior toward her. Why would she hate her so much, and why would she destroy everything so quickly?

It was hard to organize her rambling thoughts.

She didn't know what to do first. What was clear was that she needed to get to the abbey before the investigators started poking around Glynford in earnest. If nothing else, there would be no onlookers to follow Bridget to the abbey.

Once she had left this horrible mansion and calmed her nerves at the abbey, she’d be able to sort out what needed to be done.

With that conclusion, she realized that she needed to leave the mansion today.

She should have just left with Magnus when he left earlier. She didn’t have anything to pack anyway.

Bridget pushed herself upright. If she called for a carriage now, they could leave today.

Sadly, Bridget was not to have her wish.

The rain that had begun to fall in torrents in the afternoon. The mansion's remote location made traveling to and from the estate problematic in heavy rain or snow, and given the torrential downpour, it was unlikely that a carriage could be summoned immediately.

As much as she tried to convince herself that staying a few more days wouldn't be too much trouble, she knew she wasn't the only one stuck at the manor.

"Tsk."

Bridget spun around in startlement to find Ain checking out the window with a disapproving glance.

She thought he'd come to the mansion to give her a little warning, but he was trapped in as well.

The servants were distracted by their master's first long stay at the manor. Unlike their mistress, who was treated  as if she were nothing more than humans, Ain was their real master and the only one they had to serve. In front of her, Bridget saw the dining room door, which had never been open, swing wide.

She glanced at it with indifference.

Once she had tried to establish authority over them. It was when she'd been new to the mansion. Whatever the process, she had become Mrs. Wise, and this was her home for the rest of her life. Even though she was suffering from morning sickness, she summoned the manor's general manager and made her wishes known. She wanted to be introduced to the maids who would be attending to her, and to learn more about life here.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I have no specific instructions from my master."

Mr. Coleman said, stroking his beard in an attempt to appear dignified. Bridget was not told how many employees the manor had, who they were, or what they did. When she went to speak to each of them, she was met with a dubious look and a reluctant shake of the head. And they didn't seem particularly helpful.

Bridget was not assigned a maid. There was a shortage of labor. The hired help seemed unwilling to be bothered unless their master scolded them, but Ain had left Bridget at the manor, while he himself had been out of town on business.

It was the same after that. At best, he'd given her a grudging letter when he moved cities. Only a fool could fail to see that he had no intention of making his marriage to her work.

"Look at the master. He wouldn't even step foot here.”

“And yet she insists on being treated like the hostess. Does she have any sense?”

"No matter how remote this place is, everyone has ears to hear..."

After overhearing the gossiping servants, Bridget realized that everyone at the manor knew the story of Mr. and Mrs. Wise's marriage.

Bridget Pennington, the debt-ridden owner of the great theater, snuck into Ain Wise's bedroom, pulled every trick in the book, robbed him of his royal seed, and used his bloodline to drag Ain Wise down the aisle. ..................

Bridget Pennington's great, macho rumor of winning a gamble for her life.

Or worse, the scandalous speculation that Bridget Pennington had actually drugged and seduced Ain Wise.

Bridget realized then that she would never be treated with any respect in this mansion, that perhaps Ain Wise had sent her here with that in mind all along.

But she persevered. She continued to write to him, each reply carefully, on a single sheet of paper with little more than the name of the city and the address of the hotel he was staying at.

At that point, she didn't want his love; she just wanted him to take care of the baby in her belly.

She wanted him to recognize and cherish the baby, even though it wasn't born yet, so she wrote about it again and again.

[Morning sickness makes me think that this is what the baby will taste like. I was told it wasn't the right time yet, but I felt like I could feel the baby. Maybe it's an active baby.................]

As she was writing, she thought, "He's going to burn this letter in a fire without even opening it.”

She sent him dozens of letters, and the only one he responded to properly was the last one, an urgent message that she had miscarried.

"Meals have been brought to your room as usual."

While their master was staying in the mansion, they could not afford to neglect her, so a maid came and said to Bridget. The maid whirled around without listening to Bridget's answer.

True to her word, a rolling trolley with several bowls stood in front of her bedroom, and when she lifted the cloth covering the bowls, she saw a soup of unknown origin and a few slices of seemingly hard bread.

This was pretty much her diet after the miscarriage. They said they served soup because she was too dehydrated to eat proper food, but she doubted that was their intention.

***

Support me @ https://ko-fi.com/doraaaaaaaa