The Original Villainess

CHAPTER 15 pt2

I clenched my hands together in a ball on my lap, my knuckles turning white.

An unfamiliar hand settled almost comfortably on my shoulder, and the weight on my chest lifted, easing my breathing. I took several long, slow breaths, before whispering, “Thank you, Mr. Lee,” and he removed his hand, leaving a small warmth on my shoulder that faded quickly, until it was like nothing was ever there. “Mr. Hancroft,” I said as he let the last of the children out of the room.

“Yes, my lady?”

Again with those dollar sign eyes. He hasn’t given up yet? “How many children are in your care?”

“Forty-six, my lady.”

I refrained from raising a brow, or showing any form of surprise. “Interesting.” That’s certainly a lot of children for one man. It’d be understandable if he was attempting to take care of them, and a few fell through the cracks. But what he’s doing is something completely different. “From the outside, this building seems relatively small. Where do they all sleep?”

“Huh? Oh, um, on the second floor, my lady.”

“I see.” I pushed myself to my feet. “Show me.”

“What?”

“Lady Sumner, what are you doing?”

I met Levi’s gaze evenly. “Your Grace, you cannot simply take a child from what he knows and drop him into a room made of gold and expect him to assimilate. You must find out what circumstances the child is familiar with, so you can give them a similar situation. Only then, can the child learn to gradually accept a better life.” Every word I spouted was an utter lie, but still, I stared down at Mr. Hancroft with authority. “Show me,” I commanded, “the children’s rooms.”

I didn’t bother waiting for Dorothy or Lee to catch up, and immediately followed the director out of the sitting room. The stairs don’t look safe. They don’t look like they’d hold a single adult, let alone forty-six children. But Mr. Hancroft was bowing at the waist, arm indicating eagerly that I should go up first, so I tested the first step with my foot. It creaked and bowed slightly under my weight, but held. I counted the steps that shifted as I walked, and once on the landing, I looked around. The hallway split off to the left and right. The right had a glimmer of light from a murky window that quietly beckoned weary travelers, creating just enough guidance to see down the hall, while the left was nearly pitch black, despite the sun still being high in the sky. Something is not quite…right.

“Right this way, my lady, Your Grace,” Mr. Hancroft urged behind me, gesturing to the right.

“What’s down here?” I asked, nodding to the left.

“Oh, just a few of the children’s bedrooms. You shouldn’t worry about those, my lady. The floor is uneven in some places. It’s quite dangerous for a noble lady such as yourself.”

Can I stab him? I wanted to ask someone, as I squared my shoulders and met his greedy eyes. “Are you implying that children go down this unsafe hall on a daily basis?”

He flinched backwards, one hand coming up, as if to defend himself in case he got hit. “N-no, my lady. I was only stating that because you are unaware of where the floor is uneven, it might be dangerous for you.”

“I see.” I stared down the hall, something angering me and irritating me about it at the same time.

“T-then, if you’ll come this way…”

“Ask for Hancroft. He’ll take care of you.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” I stepped forward into the dark, but a large hand on my elbow stopped me. Take care of what? From the looks of it, he can’t take care of anything or anyone.

“Brynne, what are you doing?” Levi hissed under his breath, his lips too close to my ear for comfort.

“I’m not sure myself,” I whispered back, a darkness in my heart swallowing me whole, “but I know if I leave this alone, I’ll regret it forever. So stay or leave, Your Grace, but you cannot stop me.”

He stared at me only a moment, his eyes penetrating deep into my soul, and let me go, the little light there was showing a pain on his face that didn’t suit him.

I took another step, the echo sounding louder than necessary. Why is Hancroft so scared? “Mr. Hancroft,” I asked as I walked, keeping my eyes open for any doors, “how many bedrooms are in this house?”

“Si-seven, my lady,” he stammered. “Three down this way, three the other way, and one downstairs.”

So six. He’s probably counting his own. Six bedrooms for forty-six children? I don’t have to be good at math to know that that doesn’t add up. I saw a door and tried the knob. Anger boiled up inside me. “Mr. Hancroft. Why is this door locked?”

“To prevent the children from trying to spend all day in bed, my lady!” he exclaimed. “W-would you not be interested in going down the other hall? It’s much brighter and the floor is safer to walk on, too!”

“If it’s good enough for the children, it’s good enough for me,” I glowered, whipping my head around. I caught a glimpse of surprise on Levi’s face, and I swallowed, attempting to resume my posture. I still refused to smile. “Mr. Hancroft, unlock this door.”

“B-but I t-told y-y-you w-why it’s l-l-locked!”

“Ah, but there are no children around, are there?” My gaze cold, it held his. “Open. The door.”

His knees nearly caved as he stepped forward, his hands reaching into a pocket in his coat and pulling out a small key chain. He fumbled his fingers until he shook one key loose, and inserted it into the keyhole.

“Move.” I pushed him out of the way and turned the key until I heard a click. I don’t know what you’re hiding, bastard, but if it scares you this much at the thought of being discovered, then I need to discover it! I swung the door open.

The smell hit me first. So strong, I almost threw up what little breakfast I had managed to consume. My eyes swiftly identified sources as they swept the dim room. Overflowing chamber pots. Nailed down, painted over window. Blood stains. Three damp mattresses. Blankets crawling with a hundred tiny creepy crawlies. Twelve small girls crammed into a room hardly bigger than a prison cell designed for two grown adults, wearing nothing but threads. One candle in the middle of the room, flickering every time someone coughed, sneezed, or breathed.

Even in the dark, I saw the children huddling together, sharing the little warmth the blankets provided. Even in the soft, frail glow of the candlelight, I saw shadows creeping out from the small forms in the freezing room. As my eyes adjusted swiftly to the lack of light, I was able to make out shapes, shivering in the cold, thin bodies, matted, tangled hair. And in the furthest corner, where the strongest smell was coming from, was a small mound that did not move.