Chapter Four: Breath of fresh air

Wendy took her time making her way into the bustling foyer of the large Capital estate, concerning herself with making sure her steps were even, being sure she wouldn't faint straight away, which would greatly vex her parents. Clarissa and Penelope rushed past her, the sisters whispering in each other's ears as Penelope let out a throaty laugh and Clarissa frowned, they bypassed their parents stepping through the doors and into the crowd of people.

Earl and countess Folly were already groveling, greeting this evening's hosts, Lord and Lady Baxter stood with all the grace of beautiful and wealthy people. Their wealth did nothing to take away from the kindness the couple was known for and Wendy had, had the opportunity to meet them thrice before and could confirm their gentle and friendly airs. Lady Baxter was only three years her junior and if life had been different for Wendy she was sure they would have become somewhat like friends. It was a shame that life was so cruel at times.

"Wendy, dear!" Lady Baxter's kind and soothing voice called above the many mingling voices, stepping forward from where she left her husband with Wendy's parents, she greeted her grabbing her hands with a joyful swing, as though she was happy to see Wendy and could not contain it. "It is so wonderful to see you tonight, dear Wendy. I had hoped with all my heart that I would get to see you and alas, the night has already swayed in my favor!" The tall young woman stood at least six inches taller than Wendy's short stature. Lady grace Baxter was tan in a style that many ladies would deem unfashionable to the normal pale complexions seen around the Capital, though Wendy found herself entranced by the woman with her long, straight, thick black hair that hung over one of her shoulders, the rest was pinned into a neat up-do, her grey almond eyes were framed with thick lashes and her dusky complexion with a rose gleam to her sharp cheekbones and jaw.

"You are much too kind, Lady Baxter." Wendy smiled at her as her anxiety spiked, her eyes slid around the room, already all of her family members were out of her sight, only leaving her alone to wonder where her parents could be lurking and what mischief her sisters might be mucking up.

"Please, call me Grace. If we are not friends by now, I have not been trying hard enough to win your affections." Her voice washed over Wendy's nerves like a calming balm, and she passed her a sly wink of encouragement. "I was only just speaking with Ian about how I longed to see you again soon, wasn't I darling?" Grace smiled into her turn towards her husband, Lord Ian Baxter, her face lighting with pure joy. There would never be a doubt in anyone's mind that these two beautiful people loved and belonged together. Lord Baxter stood much, much taller than Wendy, even making his elegant, swan-like wife appear short. His skin was creamy white with a healthy glow of color to it, he was not very muscular and yet he appeared confident with quick wit despite his quiet nature. He was known as a man who spoke rarely and doted on his loving wife and children. With hair like curly spun gold and gem blue eyes that hid every concealed emotion within, Wendy would love to hear the story of how these two found each other.

"Quite, my love" His voice was a deep brogue that fit with his shrouded aura.

Lady Baxter took her off guard, looping her arm with Wendy's and pulling her into step by her as Lord Baxter stayed a step behind the pair, his eyes moving around the crowded room lazily, almost coldly. Their appearances were opposite ends of a spectrum, a brightly shining gem that was hard and cold as ice deeply in love with the beautiful, dark swan who radiated warmth and a welcoming nature.

As they stepped through the main entryway set underneath a spiraling staircase lined with white roses and candles all glowing all along the walls, her ears were delighted by the melodies of instruments expertly played softly, their music floating around gently in the lowly lit room, it was not so dark as too cast shadows but the light felt softer, the room felt warm, the aroma of sweetly savory food with heavy drinks wafting in the air.

It was not often in her world that she was welcome to sights as beautiful as the one before her, "You must come make yourself at home with us, eat and drink" Lady Baxter pulled them away from her husband and across the ornately tiled ballroom floor. Tables of elegant trays loaded with stacks of heavenly food lined the walls, servants standing at the ready to serve unto the mingling noble's plates and cups. "It took a while to decide on the dinner choices for tonight, friend," Lady Baxter leaned in whispering "I truly thought my brother's head might explode if I asked him for his opinion on a menu change even once more." She laughed.

"I understand, my sisters must have changed their minds about twenty times in their choice of dress tonight. I confess to understanding your brother's pain." Wendy found herself laughing lightly as well, wincing slightly to with the pain stabbing in lungs.

"Grace!" An older woman in an approaching group of people called out to Lady Baxter who turned and gave them a bright smile.

"Don't go far, Wendy. I'm looking forward to introducing you to my brother. He's hiding and brooding around here somewhere." Wendy watched as she slipped away with a squeeze to her hand as she left, Wendy standing alone against a back wall near the servants and tables. As delightful as the food seemed at this moment and if Wendy got the chance for food, she tried to take it. Something told her she could not trust the food her mother was serving her to eat, ever since many months ago when she could not stop throwing up or having pains in her abdomen. Balls and dinners were her main source of diet but with the corset done up in Bianca's punishing signature style, Wendy knew there was no room to eat a thing.

Wendy looked around trying to find where her sisters might be, she was sure Penelope was dragging Clarissa around unwillingly and Bianca would definitely be trying to push both of the girls into "potential matches" left and right. Was the squeeze in her chest from the fear she held for her sisters or the lightheaded feeling that was sweeping through her? She could not decide.

She walked forward once she caught sight of her sisters; they saw her approaching and smiled as she was just a few steps from them, when the floor suddenly seemed to lurch around her, the room spinning. A bruising grip on her upper right arm and around her waist yanked her up from falling and into a solid chest. She heard the concerned cries of her sisters and some murmuring from people as she scrambled to regain her bearings.

"You are a regular damsel in distress at all points in time aren't you, Miss Garren?" A low, arrogant voice called out and Wendy turned to see Lord Pennington holding her up and against him, as her body cried out in agony, she ripped herself out of his hold. She was used to danger, and no part of her could ignore that she felt it in every corner of her mind, body, and soul while he held her. Her brain screaming in warning for her to get away from this man as quickly as possible.

"Wendy, are you alright?!" Clarissa's concerned voice called out as she came to her left side to help support her and Penelope rushed to her right side, leaving her standing next to him. Wendy saw his eyes flash as they danced over Penelope, his intentions with Wendy had never been good, she felt something dark in him from the moment she met him, though there had been something that she felt made her safe from his designs, he was bored with her, she was not his vision of entertainment or attraction. Wendy felt sick at the interest sparking off of the Lord as he assessed her young sister.

"I'm well, please help me to sit girls." She whispered to her sisters, and they rushed her away from the crowd of people to a room off to the side of the party that was empty and quiet. It was a large sitting room with ceiling to floor windows showcasing a lantern lit garden and sprawling lawn, two glass doors with intricate gold handles leading outside.

"I am going to find father and mother, you should go home at once, Wendy." Clarissa stated firmly "It makes no sense for you to kill yourself just because mother says you must. Penelope, go and find a servant to bring Wendy some tea while I inform the coachman that Wendy is leaving." The two girls instantly left the room before Wendy could even protest to them. She wanted to call out to them, to tell them not to leave her and that the world was growing dim while it spun.

She tried to lean back against the long settee facing the cool night air. Her skin flushed, sweat coating her cheeks and she suddenly felt like the air inside of the room was stifling. On shaky legs Wendy made her way over to the door that was cleverly hidden in the large windows. Wendy fumbled with the handle until the door gave way and she stumbled out into a neatly kept garden and sitting area, low lanterns hung and cast a flickering glow in the slight breeze.

Wendy attempted to suck in the cool air that was biting into her skin, only to come up short, her fingers gripping at the front of her gown. "I mean not to frighten you, madam, but this garden is for the owners of this estate, not a section of this party. These are private quarters." A deep, rumbling sort of voice staying just beyond the light dancing a few feet behind her had Wendy spinning around, the action causing her to crumple into a heap towards the ground, only to be caught and gently held by a large figure cradling her.

He hauled her against his body, his hands staying politely yet firmly around her waist, intense grey eyes assessing her injury, his eyes steadying on the shallow rise and fall of her chest. "I... I... apologize, sir. I am... unwell." she managed to gasp. Her weight falling into him as she became weaker.

Without another word he grabbed the front of Wendy's purple dress and ripped until her tightly laced corset was exposed, he reached down for something at his thigh, though she could not make it out as the edges of her vision began to fade to black when suddenly the stranger started to cut the laces holding the back of her corset together, his arms wrapping around her as he steadied her against his chest. Wendy could not even register the shock of having this man cut her clothing from her, she only felt the relief of air filling her greedy lungs as each cut freed her body from its painful cage.

He sheathed the blade back at his thigh, his hands returning to her back as he held the fabrics together to decrease the view of her exposed back, his eyes watching as color returned to her blue lips, her cheeks flushed, and she heaved wracking breathes. Rhys felt his heart racing as he stared down at the woman who almost died in front of him at what he thought was going to be a harmless dinner, his adrenaline pumping in the same way as being in battle, fighting to ensure his men made it out of each one alive.

"Easy, take deep even breathes, try to bring you heart down." He murmured softly, speaking as gently as he could to her. "I shall fetch a doctor as soon as I am certain you safe alone."

"Please," She gripped at his biceps, her bloodshot and tired blue eyes peering up at him, striking him with the fear laced in them. "No doctors, I must return home without attention." Her voice weak as her breathing still wavered.

His mind was whirling from her potent fear and strange words when a blonde woman stepped into the garden with a wigged, drunk man, Grace, his brother-in-law, a coachman, and two young girls he had never seen before. The woman in his arms let out distressed sound at the sight of them before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she sunk into him, his arms coming under her knees and around her back as he lifted her.

"What is going on here?!" The blonde woman screeched "Have you defiled her?! Oh! what will become of us all with a ruined daughter?!" She suddenly sobbed hysterically, not even attempting to hide her voice from the gathering crowds who glanced into the room at the sound of her exclamations. 

"Ian," Rhys sighed out, ignoring her shrieks "call for a doctor, this woman is ill." Rhys left with the woman in his arms, ignoring the dramatics the woman was playing up for the rapidly growing peers. He would not debate the facts of reputation and propriety at such a time when he was certain this woman needed help. That unfortunately, would come later.