The Original Villainess

CHAPTER 2

“No! I forbid it!”

I sighed and shook my head at the viscount. “Father, it’s just a small scratch.” I wiggled my fingers at him and Brynne’s stepmother. “See? I’m fine.”

“Sweetie, won’t you at least wait until your hand heals before leaving?”

If I had known they were going to act like this, it would have just been better to pretend I was on my period. “Look. Mother. Father. I love you. But I’m not so weak that I need to rest my entire body in order for my hand to heal. I already made plans to go out today, and I’m going to go.” I made the plans like, two hours ago, but still. Plans. “Short of tying me to my bed, you can’t stop me.” I sat on the edge of the viscount’s bed and grasped one of his hands in mine. “I promise to return home shortly, and I will not get into trouble.” I peered at him with puppy dog eyes and pressed his hand to my cheek. “Please, Father?”

He sighed in longing. “Fine. But only if you take a guard with you.”

Really? It’s bad enough that they treat Brynne like she’s fragile, and now I need a guard because I cut my hand on a piece of glass? I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Yes, Father!” I kissed his cheek and hugged his wife tightly.

Though Brynne’s father had married her mother when she was young, he had already lost one wife due to illness, so he had been much older than her. When Brynne’s mother died in childbirth, the viscount had locked himself in his manor for months in grief. It wasn’t until he had hired a nanny for his infant daughter, that he had met Brynne’s now-stepmother. She, too, was widowed, and with the viscount’s permission, brought her young son, Zane, along to the manor, to help rear up the little lady, as she used to call Brynne.

Regina had proven to be a wonderful mother and nanny, and had opened up the viscount’s heart, despite the age difference between them. Even now, as her husband was confined to his bed most of the day, she remained faithful and gentle and ever the loving wife and mother. Zane had taken his role as a big brother a little too seriously, even as a child, so Brynne had grown up sheltered, loved, and pampered. Only when Brynne met the crown prince, did she start to change and turned people against her.

Though, if we’re being honest, Carson’s the one who turned them against her. I still have no idea how the author could label him as the protagonist. He probably used Lily in much the same way. Bastard. I wonder if it would be possible to find Lily before she meets Carson and save her? But I should worry about my own family first. Carson’s already planning their downfall, so I just need to get ahead of him. Somehow.

“Don’t worry, Father,” Zane said behind me. “I’ll go and make sure she’s safe.”

The old man nodded. “I’ll leave her in your care, then.”

My eyes shot open. “That’s not necessary! I can ask a servant to come with me!”

“The world is full of dangers, Brynne!” Zane protested. “A mere servant won’t be able to help you with your tasks and defend you in case those dangers come your way!”

“Then I’ll ask one of the knights to escort me!” I snapped, stomping up to him, glaring at him. I can’t have him coming with me! If he finds out what I’m trying to do…no! They can never find out!

“Why would you want one of them when you can have me?”

“He’s right, dear,” Regina offered, concern written clearly across her face. “Zane is already the best knight in the order, so why would you take someone else?”

I rubbed my temples with a pained sigh. “Are you worried I’m going to run off to the palace?” I asked. Nobody said anything, but when I peeked one eye open, I saw them giving each other sideway glances, and I huffed as I crossed my arms. “Don’t be,” I sniffed, trying to act pretentious. “I have nothing to do with the crown prince anymore. You’ll never see me vying for his attention again.” They were the only ones trying to get Brynne to give up her plights for Carson in the original story, so they must have been incredibly worried about her as she grew more and more deranged when Carson refused to acknowledge her existence after their night together.

“If you say so,” the viscount stammered hesitantly.

They don’t believe me. I groaned. “Fine! Zane can accompany me!” Relief washed over all their faces, and I ran a hand over my face. I can’t believe this. What kind of family acts like this? Have they no shame, spoiling their daughter when she’s already nineteen? Brynne didn’t even debut until she was seventeen, because they were so worried about her going off into the world. Unlike most children who debut at fifteen. They are aware that once she turns twenty–ah. No. I guess…once I turn twenty, then I’ll be old enough to marry.

At this rate, they’ll lock me in my room until I’m old and gray, thinking that all a husband has to do to get his wife pregnant is kiss her hand.

If I think about it….the best way to stay out of Prince Carson’s way is to marry someone else, right? So I basically just have to take care of this one thing today, and then talk to the viscount and viscountess about setting me up to be married. I’ll even take someone in another kingdom, if it means getting away from Carson. As long as he’s not as bad as the third son of Baron Zi…Kiven? What’s-his-name. I tapped my chin as Zane escorted me to the foyer.

Oh, but…what if Carson uses my absence to bring my family down while I’m not here? That would give my husband a reason to divorce me and cast me off to the side, and if I don’t have money or power, I can’t get revenge on what Carson is planning for Brynne and House Sumner. It would be best to marry within the kingdom for this reason. But who could I marry that can stand up against the crown prince? Half of the sons of the higher nobles are married or engaged. Anybody under a count will never have a chance against Carson, though a marquess or higher would be better. But there are only four dukes in the whole kingdom, and two of them are twice my age, if not older. I don’t know much about Duke Langly, except that he’s supposed to be on par with Carson for looks, and I think he’s around the same age, too. I don’t think the author described his appearance in detail at any point, and he’s kind of a recluse, so he’s out of the running. The other guy has zero presence in the story, and I don’t even remember his name, but I do know he’s married with young children. Wouldn’t be a good idea for me to become a homewrecker.

I’m not sure if I recall any of the sons of the marquess houses…maybe like, two of them? We’re low on the feeding line as a viscount house, but a lot of higher nobles seek out Father for his influence, because of his military power. I, on the other hand, am just a daughter, so I have no voice in society.

Zane draped a cloak over my shoulders. “It’s spring now, but it’s still a bit chilly this early in the morning,” he said, tying the fabric under my chin. “You should wear this for now.”

I gathered the hem of the cloak in my hands. “Isn’t this yours?” I asked, unsure of why I knew that. It is a bit big on me, but that shouldn’t be a reason to automatically know things like this. Are Brynne’s memories still in this big ol’ brain of mine? Slivers of memories that were not found in the w*******l floated through my mind, and I smiled gently at Zane as my heart swelled at his kindness.

“Just take it!” he huffed, grabbing my elbow and dragging me to the door.

That’s right. It may be the best way to get out from under Carson’s thumb, but I can’t leave my family to suffer in my place. Marriage will have to wait. I’ll stay locked up on the estate for as long as they want, if it means I can rip Carson a new one.

“Where are we going?” Zane asked as he helped me into the carriage as a footman held the door open.

“Allen Street.”

“Allen Street!” Zane called out to the driver. His eyes widened as the carriage started to move. “Wait. Allen Street is where–”

“This is why I wanted to go alone,” I grumbled, looking out the window as the scenery passed us by.

“Alec, turn back!”

“Don’t you dare!” I snapped at the driver through the window, and the carriage slowed.

“My lady?” the driver called hesitantly.

Zane reached for my hands and held them tightly. “Are you sick? Can’t Doctor Richards look at you? Why do you need to go to Allen Street to see a doctor? Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine, Zane,” I snipped. “But every once in a while, a woman needs to see a specialist, okay? It has nothing to do with being sick.”

His ears turned red and his voice dropped. “Okay,” he murmured. He cleared his throat and waved his hand out the window, signaling the driver to continue. “Allen Street!”

Alec kicked the horses back into gear, and Zane remained silent the rest of the way. I closed my eyes as I leaned my head against the carriage wall. Because Brynne had to be shut up for four days after the crown prince visited her, she never considered the possibility. Then it was too late, once she started showing. She was so obsessed with getting Carson’s attention once more, she stopped paying attention to her own body. The novel describes her emotional breakdown after she realized that more than three months had passed since her last period. But despite her letters and visits to the palace, Carson refused to see her. He even claimed the child she was carrying could never be his, saying she had no evidence, and even presented other men as fake witnesses that they had slept with her. Poor nobles, sons from fallen houses, and even commoners. He was just trying to get her married off somewhere out of the way so he could ruin the Sumner family. It was a great insult to her, but she was too heartbroken to see it. She truly loved him up until the day she died. Poor girl.

His rejection of her and their child was enough to push her over the edge, and by that point, she was too far along for normal abortion methods in this world. Then the viscount died, and Regina lost faith in Brynne. The stress on her mind and heart eventually took a toll on her body, causing a miscarriage around month five, I believe. That, in addition to the royal family attempting to seize everything her family owned, including their name, it’s no wonder Brynne was labeled a villainess.

The carriage slowed to a stop, and I opened my eyes to gawk at the glamorous buildings.

Of course, I refuse to follow her footsteps, and even though I can’t stop Father from dying of old age, I can…wait. Since when did I call him that? I wracked my memory, lips pursed, finger tapping my chin. I also referred to Zane as my brother, back at the manor. And I called them my family earlier. Is this…Brynne’s emotions? When I see Zane, I feel such love and affection for him, like I’ve known him all my life. Maybe it’s like muscle memory?

“Brother.”

“Hmm?”

My fingers touched my lips to silence them. The word feels right on my tongue. It sounds right to my ears. The very sight of him conjured up the word.

“Brynne? Are you okay?”

“Hm? Oh.” I smiled at Zane hesitantly. “Y-yes, of course. I just…wanted to…call you that. For some reason.”

He blinked at me, then laughed, reaching out and mussing my hair. “Alright, then! You can call me whatever you’d like, little sis!”

I giggled. Well…I guess this isn’t too bad…though it feels weird. Back home, I was the big sister, not the little sibling.

“Oh,we’re here.” Zane opened the door and got out first. Then he held a hand out for me, and I took it, stepping down gingerly. “Would you like me to escort you inside?”

Fear washed through me, and I snatched my hand away. “No!”

Hurt crossed his eyes and guilt ate away at me from a place I didn’t recognize. That’s right. Zane has always treated Brynne like a princess, even when they were children. He must think it strange that his sister is acting like this all of a sudden.

“I-I mean, no, thank you. It’s such a personal visit, I wouldn't feel comfortable knowing you were there. But you can wait for me out here,” I suggested, reaching for his hand tentatively. “After I’m done, we can take a walk, maybe visit some shops. Grab a bite to eat before we head home. If you want.”

He smiled brilliantly down at me, stroking my cheek. “Then, I’ll wait for you out here.”

Something stabbed my heart as I watched him smile, and tears welled behind my eyes. Brynne’s feelings for Zane are so strong and pure…I’m envious. I wish I had a relationship like that before coming here. I threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you…brother. I love you.”

The words slipping off my tongue, and I pulled away from him before scurrying inside, hiding my face in my hands, so he couldn’t see me blushing. Did Brynne not tell him this enough? Do people in this world not tell each other they love each other? How rude. That needs to change. I would tell my siblings I loved them all the time. It was routine for us. How sad that I now live in a world where the word “love” is treated like a disease.

Once inside the building, I sighed and let my hands fall from my face. Okay. Time to put my game face on. I took a piece of cloth that I had tucked into my sash before leaving the manor, and tied it around the lower half of my face. I’m not sure how familiar society is right now with Brynne’s face, but I can’t let anything cause damage to my family right now. Father’s health is fragile, and if I go down Brynne’s original path, he’ll succumb to death in only a few months. The longer I can keep him alive, the longer this family has to survive the evil schemes of the royal family.

I mentally facepalmed myself. There I am again, addressing them like they’re mine, not Brynne’s. I made my way to the reception desk. “Excuse me,” I said, and the woman at the desk glanced up.

“Do you have an appointment?”

Wow, it’s just like back home.

I shook my head. “Is it impossible to see someone without an appointment?”

“No, but there might be a wait. Fill this out. Take a seat, I’ll be right back.”

I sat in one of the chairs she had indicated, and her shoes clicked against the floor as she made her way through a set of french-style office doors. Glanced through the papers she had given me, and filled in a few blanks. Name? Ugh. While the main characters’ names were commonplace in the modern world, I had no idea how popular they were in this fantasy land. I can’t use my real name, obviously. But a strange name would make me stand out more. Especially if I don’t answer to it. Kammi is probably out of the question, but I respond to Brynne pretty well, so maybe something similar? Br…ooke? That might work. Does that name exist here?

I tried to be as honest as possible with the other questions, as far as I was aware. Since Brynne’s health was not really covered in the w*******l, I had to guess for a few things. If it was too personal, I left it blank.

The woman came back after a few minutes, and I gave her the paper. She glanced at it, then at me, then back at the paper.

She doesn’t believe that’s my name, does she?

“Only one of our examiners is available at the moment, but it’s a man. Are you still willing to see him? We only have a few female examiners, and most of our patients prefer them, so their schedules fill up quickly.”

It’s such a misogynistic world, I’m surprised they let women study medicine at all, even if it is just women’s medicine. But a man… I chewed on my lip as I thought. Uh…but whatever. I need this appointment now. Who knows when I’ll be able to see someone next. If it’s too late…no. As long as he’s professional, then it’s fine. I smiled, forgetting for a minute that she couldn’t see through the fabric on my face. “That’s fine.”

“Then, if you’ll follow me, please.” Her shoes clacked again against the floor as she led me through the double doors.

I bit back a laugh when I saw the layout. Whoever wrote this must’ve spent an awful lot of time at a doctor’s office. Poor soul.

The woman knocked on one of the doors. “Doctor, Miss Brooke is here.”

“Come in.”

The voice behind the door scratched at me in a familiar way, and I half frowned. Weird.

The woman gestured for me to open the door, and then left. I let the door creak open a c***k. “Um, excuse me,” I said, poking my head in, jaw dropping when I saw the man sitting behind the desk.

He glanced up. “Miss Brooke, yes? Come on in. Take a seat. I’m Richards.”

“Um. Doctor…Richards…” My heart froze in my chest, and I held my breath as I clutched to the doorframe, unable to decide if I should stay or run.

His head whipped around and his eyes narrowed at me.

Before I could make the conscious decision to leave and find another doctor, he had already crossed the room and shut the door firmly. His grip on my elbow was tight and almost painful as he guided me to a chair near his desk.

“Sit.”

I sat, fear gripping my heart as my lungs grappled for air.

Instead of taking a seat in his own chair on the other side of the desk, he merely leaned against the edge of the desk, arms folded across his chest as he glared down at me. “You can take off that ridiculous veil,” he said.

I glanced down at my lap, where my fingernails bit into each other. Breathe. In…out…that’s better.

Doctor Richards sighed. “Miss Brynne, why are you here?”

“How did you know it was me?” I whispered. i***t! That’s what you ask?

He snatched up my bandaged wrist. “I believe I’m the one who wrapped this mere hours ago. Are you telling me you think me such an arrogant man, that I can’t recognize my own patient? I’ve known you since you were thirteen, Miss Brynne. I’m rather familiar with you.”

Jerk. Who does he think he is? I wrenched my hand away and pulled down the veil with a laborious sigh, never meeting his eyes. “If I had known you were the doctor she was taking me to see, I never would have come,” I pouted.

“Lady Sumner,” he warned, eyes sharp.

“Fine,” I snapped, finally looking at him, my eyes barely registering a secretive smirk in the corner of his lips. “I came to get a contraceptive.”

I didn’t know the first thing about emergency contraceptives from this world—short of what the author wrote when Brynne tried to abort three months into her pregnancy—but if they were anything like the ones in my home world, then taking one immediately after having i*********e, would be the best option. Though I assume most contraceptives were for women who knew they would be having s*x ahead of time, I need something akin to Plan-B. Like those liquids they show in fantasy comics where a single drop in your tea the morning after will prevent pregnancy.

I’m sure there are all sorts of herbs that one could whip up that would do the trick.

Doctor Richards’s jaw slacked as his eyes widened. “Absolutely not,” he said decisively, shaking his head as his lips grew taut. “Your parents would kill me.”

I stared at him exasperatedly. “Then don’t tell them!”

“You want me to give you a dangerous combination of drugs to stop you from getting pregnant before you’re even married, and not tell your father, who employs me on a daily basis?” He shook his head again sternly. “Not happening. You can go home now, Miss Brynne. Be a good girl and wait for a marriage proposal from whoever it is, and then come find me, if you still want it. If he’s from a good family, your parents will have no reason to oppose it, so you may never need it.”

I bit my lip, but refused to look away. “Doctor, I…”

“I won’t do it!” He glowered at me, lips pressed together in a thin line, fists balling at his side.

Something welled up inside me. Fear, anger—I wasn’t sure. I also didn’t know if it originated from me or Brynne, but kept my gaze steady as I stared him down from my seat. “I’m already pregnant.”

Something akin to disbelief or hurt washed across his features, and the tension in the room dissipated. His eyes flickered to my hand, and I saw the gears in his head churning, before he finally ran a hand over his face. “The vase. You were hiding a bloodstain.”

“I could have announced that my monthly cycle started, but that would have just led to me being locked in my room for the rest of the week, and I needed to come here as soon as possible,” I pointed out. “I’m not really sure how the drug would work, so I figured the sooner, the better.”

“Miss Brynne,” Doctor Richards sighed, slumping against the edge of his desk, “even if you were intimate with someone once, it does not immediately result in pregnancy. What sort of things are the viscount teaching his children that would make you think this?”

Memories of Zane kissing my hand as a child and declaring me a mother filled my mind. I shook the thoughts away. Of course I can’t tell him I know I’m pregnant because it was written in a w*******l in my world. I pursed my lips. “Then can’t you give me something that will terminate a pregnancy, just in case? It doesn’t even have to be strong! It was just last night, so–”

“No!” Fury and horror filled the doctor’s features and voice. “If your family ever found out that I helped you in a situation like this–!” Doctor Richards took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When he continued, his words were a lot calmer, though his tone was still terse from his jaw clenching as his fists bundled together at his sides. “It would be better to wait until you know for sure. I can do an examination around two weeks after the event. The longer, the better, but if we wait much longer than four weeks, anything strong enough to work could impair your ability to have children for good. If you’re pregnant.”

I am pregnant, jerkwad. I scowled at him. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to give me something now, so you don’t have to keep seeing my face?”

He groaned, running a hand over his face as he stalked behind his desk and dragged a chair out until it was in front of me. “Miss Brynne, I’m not sure what fantasies your sheltered youth has provided for you, but contraceptives and medicines to terminate pregnancies are not something young ladies like yourself need to be playing around with.” He sat down heavily and met my eyes with his sharp gaze, one hand reaching out to me, almost tenderly, yet never touching me. “Even if used in the correct dosage, even if only used once, it can damage the womb and cause a woman to go sterile. As a daughter of a noble family, your ability to conceive is one of your greatest attributes.”

I scowled at him as my body pulled away from his reach. “So I’m nothing without a working womb? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Of course not, my lady,” he sighed as his head fell into his hands. “Don’t twist my words.” After a long breath, he pushed himself to his feet and walked back around his desk. His eyes narrowed at me, his fists placed just so on top of the desk, one of them gentle tap-tap-tapping against the wood, his voice full of restrained tension. “Why are you so against having a child with your lover? Surely, he’ll want to marry you as soon as he learns of your condition?”

I c****d my head at the man across from me. Can I tell him? He doesn’t appear to participate in needless gossip with the family or high society, so it won’t matter, right? But essentially, every physician in this kingdom works for the royal family. I shook my head. No. If anyone finds out that the crown prince is the father, their lives will be in danger. “He’s not my lover,” I finally admitted. “He plied me with wine until I was too drunk to know better, and by the time I sobered up, he was already having his way with me.” It’s not really a lie. The original story kind of wrote it this way, but Brynne never once objected, even after she sobered up, since she had always been in love with Carson.

“Then why try and hide it? You even injured yourself and gave everyone a fright. You could have told your father. The viscount would have been able to force the marriage between you two.”

I stamped my foot as I shot to my feet, red blurring my vision, my voice shaking as I nearly shouted. “I refuse to marry that sniveling weasel who has to practically r**e a woman to make himself feel like a man!” Even if it wasn’t Carson, I would still refuse to marry him! What kind of man gets a woman drunk, has a one-night stand with her, and then pretends she doesn’t exist afterwards? Definitely not husband material, that’s for sure! It was Brynne’s bad luck to be captured by that sweet-talking devil. He manipulated her and emotionally and mentally tortured her until he got what he wanted. He’s worse than scum! And this guy wants me to marry him? Not in this life! Not in any life.

Doctor Richards blinked in surprise at my outburst, holding up his hands. “Alright! I get it! I’ll come by the manor in two weeks as a pretense to check up on your father. While I’m there, I’ll examine you. Fair?”

I grit my teeth at the offer. No! Why can’t you just give it to me now? But instead of voicing my opinion, I frowned in displeasure, and nodded once. “Fine. But you had better give me something to terminate the pregnancy the moment you learn I’m pregnant. Screw conceiving in the future. If my family finds out about this baby, I’m making you take responsibility.”

Without another word, I strode to the door of the office, and left.