facing him. Roth released his hold on her hand and gingerly ran his fingers along the article’s
neckline.
“What a lovely shift, with such fine trimmings of lace. You look like an absolute
diamond in it, dear, but…” He placed both of his hands under the shift and they traveled from
her knees to her shoulders, pulling her arms out of the sleeves, bringing the garment over Anne’s
head and dropping it carelessly beside her. Anne knelt gloomily in her position with a red face,
tears of embarrassment beginning to take form within her eyes. She was now totally naked as
well.
Roth grinned heartily, running his eye over her bare figure. “There, now you are better
than any diamond in the world.” With that he put his hand behind her neck, brought her close to
him, and kissed her with a strength so intense that Anne almost squeaked. His hands coursed
down her back and brought her closer. The woman did not return the act but relaxed
submissively, afraid to do anything besides what Roth wanted. His lips left hers to trail down her
neck, and Anne despised the way that they felt. They were neither tender nor loving; indeed, they
literally felt to her like knives continuously scraping against her skin. The man was biting her
occasionally as his lips touched her skin, so severe was his lust. When his lips were halfway
down her neck, he suddenly turned her over onto the bed and continued his kissing, his passions
becoming more pronounced as the moments passed. Underneath him Anne stared upward
helplessly, reluctant even to glance at her husband’s face as he acted like Anne was the love of
his life. Her breath came out sharply when his attempts were at their most ardent and determined
but otherwise she lay where she was, wishing for nothing more than for such an experience to be
over with.
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Anne became more accustomed to her new home through the next couple of days and
save for the husband that she had so recently been united to, liked it much better than she had her
previous one. More than twenty servants worked under her, some less respectful and friendly
than others, but she loved her maids almost immediately after she met them, in spite of herself.
She had not been certain before if she could ever come to love and trust another female besides
Guinevere, but Kim, Clara, Hope and Rose treated her with great love and respect, placing their
mistress before all of their other household tasks, and therefore Anne was obliged to treat her
maids the same way. She also quickly found them to be patient and caring, traits that her former
maid Eloise had hardly possessed at all.
Anne liked the serene setting of her home as well, and the beautiful arrangements that
were cast out about its vast property. The city of Bath could be seen from atop the mansion’s
balconies and the building itself was filled with large, decadent rooms that were both
comfortable and fashionable. Indeed, her home seemed more heavenly than any that she had ever
known, but her quick dislike of Roth spoiled much of her excitement for living in such a place.
The man was corrupt and vile, not permitting anyone to do anything other than what he wanted.
Anne had somehow persevered through their first night together, but the next morning he had
instilled even greater fear in her by saying what would happen if she ever tried to run away or
divorce him.
“I would find you and have you killed if you did either,” he had murmured to her in a
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low, disturbingly voracious tone of voice. “So you had better listen to me carefully and obey. I
know of your friend Guinevere and I will allow you to visit her occasionally, but only
occasionally. Because,” he added, running a finger across her cheek, “I’m afraid that I could
never come to trust someone like you.”
Anne’s spirits had lifted slightly when she had heard about such visits to her dear cousin,
but the prospect of living with a fearsome, perverse man like Roth combined with the ghastly
promises that he had added on to Madame Button’s dampened her spirits nevertheless. When she
had been wed to Sebastian she had constantly hoped that he would take notice of and give her the
attention that she had craved for, but now she wished that Roth would stop paying attention to
her. She knew that he did not love her at all; lust of the purest kind was simply in control of him
and it would not loosen its grip easily. If she did not do what he told her she might lose her life,
and therefore in order to protect herself, she had to submit her whole body and soul to a man who
would force her to do anything that she feared to do with no regard to her true feelings.
One warm morning Anne read in the great drawing room when one of her servants, Alan,
came to the doorway and bowed accordingly. Anne looked up at him, irritated.
“What is it, Alan? You have interrupted me.”
He smiled good-naturedly, standing erect. “Pardon me, Mrs. Parnell, but there is a Miss
McFarkley here to see you.”
Anne’s eyes widened as her mouth opened in shock. She stood on her feet, laying the
newspaper that she had been reading upon her chair and turning around to face her servant.
Bewilderment lifted her eyebrows.
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“Who?”
“Miss McFarkley,” the man repeated. “She would like to speak with you.”
Anne nodded uncertainly and Alan stepped aside to allow a woman of middle age and
dark hair to enter the room. The moment that she saw Anne she gasped and rushed toward her,
but that woman drew back warily, eyeing the newcomer in a way that was nearly malignant. The
strange woman stopped promptly, smiling softly, her eyes fixed on Anne’s face.
“Oh, my dear Anne,” she muttered tenderly, her eyes glistening with tears. “You are so
beautiful…you look so much like your mother. Except for your eyes.” Her head leaned to one
side as she studied her. “Your lovely eyes are your father’s.”
At this unwonted connection with the man who had tried to ruin her, Anne scowled
suddenly at her guest. Her eyes ran over the woman unwelcomingly. “Who are you? Or do I not
wish to know?”
The woman’s brow turned up in some distress briefly before she smiled, her eyes
releasing their stored moisture. She stepped forward.
“Forgive me, dear child. I am your aunt, Maybelle McFarkley. Oh, dear, may I embrace
you? I haven’t seen you in years and I have missed you so very much.”
Anne snorted, crossing her arms and turning away from her. “You are not my aunt,” she
grumbled. “A true and loving aunt does not leave her niece living desperately in a filthy, crooked
city. And may I go on to express just how alone and dejected I was back then?” She made a face.
“I wish for you to leave at this moment.”
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“No, Anne, please, you must allow me to explain.” Maybelle went forward to take
Anne’s hands, but she pushed her arms away. Maybelle sighed. “Anne, please,” she pleaded. She
looked around to ensure that no one else was near to them before she leaned forward a bit to
speak quite softly. “I escaped from Newgate to find you again.”
Anne backed away from her, horrified. “What? Why, I most certainly do not want
someone like you in my home a moment longer! Do you mean to tell me that you are an escaped
con…?”
Maybelle slapped her hand over Anne’s mouth, glancing around her nervously. “No,
Anne, please. You must hear what I have to say before you banish me. I did, after all, do it for
you.”
Anne frowned, removing her aunt’s hand from her face. She glared at her. “What exactly
did you do for me?”
Maybelle sighed, glancing upward. “I hope that God can forgive me, but I had to do it. I
had to…kill her.” She sniffed whilst additional tears fell from her eyes.
Anne started, appearing both incredulous and fearful of the woman standing before her.
She stepped back from her again. “Excuse me?” she murmured. “You killed someone? For me?”
The woman nodded, swallowing. Her eyes were downcast as she spoke her next words.
“Yes. I killed Madame Button.”
Anne’s mouth opened as the color drained from her face and disbelief, shock, and relief
overwhelmed her. She stared at her aunt, horror swimming in her eyes. “What?”
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Maybelle sniffed and then looked up at Anne, sighing. “It’s true, my dear. I had to do it. I
had been aware of her and knew how she had caused trouble throughout England, France…and
she had mistreated you as well. Please, Anne, I have so much to tell you. Won’t you let me sit
down and speak with you?”
Curious now, Anne closed her mouth, nodded, and motioned for Maybelle to take a seat
while she found hers again. The older woman sighed once more before beginning her discourse.
“Firstly, my sweet Anne, I must ask how much you know about your mother and her
family.”
Anne frowned at her uncertainly. “Not very much at all,” she answered in a low voice.
Maybelle nodded. “I thought as much. If you had been more aware of how cold my
parents were, you would have a better understanding of why they would not permit me to visit
your father and mother when they married.”
“Well, I am somewhat knowledgeable about that part of my parents’ story,” Anne said.
She went on in an embittered voice: “Madame Button did tell me about how my grandparents
detested my father and broke off contact with my mother when she married him.”
Maybelle nodded sadly. “Indeed they did. They also forbade me from having any kind of
communication with my sister, but we had always been so close that I knew I couldn’t just forget
about her. So after Elizabeth married I began to write letters to her, letters that I made certain our
overbearing parents never discovered. Almost from the day of her wedding, my sister had
noticed the woman called Madame Button wandering around her new home; I believe that my
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sister said the woman prowled around with a sort of bitter air. I could tell that she had been
almost frightened by her presence, but no matter how many times William went out and asked
her to leave the property, she would not. At first I could not understand how William could
persuade Madame Button to leave, but eventually I acquired the notion that the two had once
been lovers.”
Anne gasped, revulsion sweeping her face. Maybelle nodded in agreement.
“Quite distasteful, I know. Anyway, after a year had passed, one of your mother’s letters
was joyful with the news that she was with child. She wrote that she had probably known such a
condition for a couple of months at the least, and when six or seven months had passed and her
letters ceased to arrive, I became alarmed, so during the night I crept out of my parents’ house
and traveled to where she was. When I arrived, the home seemed so deserted that I knew
something terrible must have happened to William, Elizabeth, or you. I approached one of the
windows and lifted my lantern to see inside, and what I saw was purely horrid. Your father was
staggering around with a cask of whiskey while you, as an infant, lay crying on the floor. You
could not have been much more than a week old. I stood outside, stunned at what I saw and
wondering where my sister was when William suddenly turned to look through the same window
that I was. He quickly limped to the door and opened it with force, glaring at me. I had never
seen anyone so sickly. To be honest, the man was so unrecognizable that I had a difficult time
believing that he was the same man whom Elizabeth had been united to. He took a drink before
asking me who I was and what I was doing there.
“’William, is that you?’ I asked him. ‘What happened to you? Where’s Elizabeth?’ He
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yelled at me to get off his property, but I looked past him into the house. ‘William, it’s me,
Maybelle!’ I told him. ‘Elizabeth’s sister!’
“’Elizabeth is gone!’ he shouted. ‘She’s gone!’ He pulled out a pistol and pointed it at
me. ‘And if you don’t go now, then you will be dead next. Go!’
“I was frightened when I learned of my sister’s death, but I knew that I needed to
compose myself to convince your father that he needed my help. ‘William, please,’ I pleaded
with him, ‘I understand that you are grieving, but please let me help you. And what about that
poor child in there? That child needs caring for as well.’
“’Yes?’ he replied. ‘Well, my wife needed help too, but nobody helped her, and it’s that
child’s fault! Go away now!’
“I pleaded with him once more, but he put the gun near my face and told me again to
leave, which I did, frightened as I was. But I began to pay visits to your residence to take care of
you whenever William was asleep or out of the house. I did this for a couple of years until one
day, when I had just laid you down for a rest, he came through the door and upon seeing me,
pulled out his pistol and pointed it at me.
‘William, it’s all right,’ I said. ‘It’s only me.’ But he stepped toward me with the weapon
pointed and I quickly ran toward him, pushed him aside and went out of the door. I had almost
encountered him a few times before that, so I decided that it would be best to stay away from
your home for a while. After all, I had figured that you were an intelligent child and could live
on your own for a bit. I went back to my parents, and about ten years later I learned of your
house being burned down and your father dying, so I went back to your home to assure myself
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that you were all right. When I saw the house ruins I was afraid that you had perished as well,
but then I saw you from afar, looking in the direction of your old home. You appeared healthy to
me, and I thought that you would be all right without me in your life-save for the living creatures
that might threaten your existence. Right then I strove to think of any such creatures, and my
mind came across Madame Button. I knew of her reputation and how she had constantly lingered
outside of your home, frightening my sister, so I determined to find and eradicate her. I knew
how morally wrong killing was, of course, but I felt that doing so would be the only way to stop
her from harming you. It seemed like my search was everlasting, but I finally found her just
recently, returning from a store in London. It was early morning and there were few people on
the streets otherwise, so when she had almost reached the inn that she had been lodging at, I
crept up behind her, threw my arm around her neck and pulled her to the ground. Such a task was
more difficult than I would have imagined, for though she was an aging woman she seemed to be
quite strong. When I had finally succeeded in this, I noticed the handle of a knife that was
protruding from her purse, and without haste I grabbed the weapon and pulled it out. It was a
butcher’s knife, and it appeared as if it had never been used before. I placed it against her throat
and pulled her to her feet again, whispering in her ear.
“’I know who you are, Madame Button,’ I said. ‘You are one of the most terrible and
least liked people in England and France. I am aware of the awful things that you have done to
many, both young and old, but you will not harm my Anne any more than you already have.
Don’t try to say that you do not know who I am speaking of. You distressed my sister, so I
possess every belief that you have somehow distraught her daughter as well. My name is
Maybelle McFarkley, and I am the aunt of Anne Falkman-the young lady whom I have reason to
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believe you have been harassing. Now you will tell me where my niece is and what you have
done to her.’
“As I said all of this Madame Button stood quite still, her eyes fixed on the knife. I fancy
that she had never looked so afraid in her life. She quickly told me that she had arranged for you
to marry a wealthy man who lived near Bath. She said that was the location where you currently
were.
“’Why did you force that girl to get married?’ I demanded, and she told about meeting
you in London four years ago and taking from you the fortune that you had acquired from the
people who had taken care of you. She claimed that she had only done so because she had had no
money, but I knew better than to believe such a falsehood as that.
“’Very well’, I said to her then. ‘Now Madame Button, I know that you probably
despised my sister Elizabeth and did all that you could to separate her from her husband. What I
do not fully understand is why you were so opposed to their being together, so tell me the truth
or I promise that I will kill you right here in the midst of these people.’
“She then told me her story, hurriedly, in a cowardly tone. As I had suspected, she and
your father had been lovers before he had met your mother, and when he did meet and fall in
love with her, Madame Button became very upset, bitter, and jealous. He had stopped courting
her a while before he met Elizabeth, but nevertheless she watched your father often, wishing to
be with him again. Even back then the woman was notorious with the people in France, but she
began to act like a truly horrible person after William left her to be with Elizabeth. She told me
that she wanted vengeance for being left alone, for William had been the only man who had ever
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treated her perfectly and she had loved him unconditionally. Anyway, this was the time that she
created a false name for herself. Her true name was Adelaide Edith Bancroft, but she feared to
use it because people might discover who she was and she would be put into prison.” Maybelle
leaned forward to gently peer at Anne. “So you see, Anne, Madame Button treated you wrongly
because she hated Elizabeth. She never had the chance to hurt my sister before she died, so her
passion for vengeance had to be passed on to you. When Madame Button had finished telling me
her story, I thanked her and told her that she was free to go, but the moment I unwrapped my
arms from her and she tried to run from me, I stuck the knife into her back. A quick glance at the
shocked witnesses of this incident told me that I had to go away from the scene to avoid being
captured, so I pulled out the knife and went as far away as I could from that location, leaving the
woman to fall onto the street dead. Thirty minutes hadn’t even passed before a couple of the
witnesses reported the happening; I was captured and locked into Newgate Prison.” She bowed
her head. “While I sat in the prison with the other convicts, I prayed arduously for forgiveness
for what I had done, but I nonetheless knew that I had to escape to find you and make certain that
you were all right. That was what I did and that is how I am here now. And so, my dear niece,
you now know the truth.”
Anne had sat quite still throughout the entire narrative, listening with honest interest to a
bit of Madame Button’s life story and how she had met her end. She was now aware of all that
her aunt had done for her through the words that she had spoken, but her heart would not accept
the love behind Maybelle’s actions. Instead, it focused on the parts of the story that had seemed
neglectful and uncaring. She cleared her throat and moistened her lips.
“Well, I am glad to have heard of what you did, Miss…McFarkley,” she began.
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“Oh, you needn’t call me that, Anne!” Maybelle smiled, her eyes full of love. “I am your
aunt, after all.”
Anne frowned. “Perhaps so.” She stood up. “I understand about what you did for me, but
what I can’t decipher is why you would leave me to live, as a child, by myself in London. I hope
you realize that I was quite homeless and in need of more than food and shelter. You left me to
live in that state for ten long years, and if my father hadn’t died you probably wouldn’t have
thought about me ever again.”
“No, no, Anne, that’s not true at all!” Maybelle jumped up and walked toward Anne,
reaching out to her. More tears fell from her eyes. “Please, Anne, you must not believe that. I
thought about you every moment of every day through those years. I’m truly sorry that I didn’t
come back for you; I probably should have, but that one glance at you near your home after your
father died told me that perhaps you were a very independent, strong child who disliked the idea
of a strange adult disturbing your way of life. I was also afraid that you wouldn’t understand
what I wanted with you. I feared that you would withdraw from me. But Anne, you must
understand how much I thought and worried about you.”
“You thought that I wouldn’t want to cease living like that?” Anne almost yelled, her
own eyes beginning to moisten. She stepped back from Maybelle again. “Did you seriously think
that I didn’t dream of living in a safe, secure home that was vacant of an intoxicated, abusive
father and constant risk of starvation and sickness? Would you like to know, Maybelle, how
many times I thought I was going to die? Would you like to know how many times the beadle
almost caught me? I don’t know how many times I cried during the day and night, wishing for
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my life to change, and now you tell me that you were never far away. You had a ridiculous fancy
that a homeless child would be fine begging on the filthy streets of a city for the rest of her life,
so you stayed away. Well, let me tell you something, Maybelle: you should have never come
back at all!”
“Anne, please!” The other woman was sobbing now as she went forward to grab Anne’s
shoulders. Once again, she pushed her aunt’s arms away. “Anne, please, I love you. You don’t
have to stay here.” She lowered her voice to a whisper as she stared pleadingly at Anne. “I know
that you loathe the husband that that dastardly woman forced you to marry, so come with me.
The two of us can go far away from England where no one can find us, and you can live the life
that you always wanted to live. You and I can be truly happy, together. Anne, please, I beg of
you.”
Anne narrowed her eyes. The thought of leaving Roth was glorious to her, but she
distinctly remembered what he had said if she ever tried to leave, and even if he had not said
anything of the matter she was not willing to go anywhere or do anything with her aunt.
What am I supposed to do with this woman? She wondered irritably. I know that she
doesn’t mean anything she’s been saying, and if she truly loved me she would have come to me
when she saw me as a child in London and taken me with her then. What can I do to persuade
her to leave me now?
Suddenly, she thought about how she had convinced George to leave her for Cambridge
and a shrewd smile crept along her mouth carefully. She looked up at Maybelle, trying to retain
her former expression of denial and hatred.
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“All right,” she said softly to her. “I cannot leave with you, Maybelle, but I suppose that
if you do love me I can try to become fond of you as well.”
Maybelle let out her breath and covered her mouth with her hand, smiling greatly. “Oh,
thank you, Anne!” she cried, walking forward and embracing her, her shoulders shaking with
sobs. “Thank you so much, dearest. I love you so.”
Anne nodded in return, her chin resting on her aunt’s shoulder. “Yes, I understand that.
But if you truly do love me, then I’m afraid that there is one thing that I would like yo