A/N: I own nothing. Just a head full of plot bunnies who could really use some carrots. Om nom nom!
Chapter 8
Penelope looked at the older lady and although she was pretty and smiled warmly, Penelope started trembling.
"Oh, you poor dear! You must be freezing!" Fran bustled over and touched Penelope's cheek. She ignored the younger woman's flinch and instead brought her other hand up to tilt her face and gazed into the princess's eyes. Fran shook her head slightly and sighed. "Come on, I've drawn a bath for you. Let's get you out of these freezing clothes and warmed up. I know it's getting late but someone has been waiting a long time to meet you. He is expecting to see you tonight."
"N... no..." Penelope strangled out. She yanked herself away from the older woman and ran to the door. She tried the knob and cried out when it wouldn't budge. She looked over and saw Fran walking closer. "No," she whispered again and ran to the far corner. She crouched down and shook in terror.
Fran gasped and tears filled her eyes as she watched the princess, the only beloved child of her best friends, the late King and Queen, cowering and quaking in the corner. It was obvious the child had been hurt terribly and she made a mental note to smack her son upside his head for not telling her. Fran walked to where Penelope was sitting, knelt down, and gently stroked her hair. Penelope looked up and Fran closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep her on tears at bay, then opened them again once she gained her composure.
"Penny, nobody is here to hurt you."
"Then why am I here? I have no idea where I am. I was taken from my home and brought here. No, snuck in here. What do you all want from me?" Penelope cried.
Fran shook her head slowly. "I swear I'll answer all your questions soon. I promise, nobody is going to hurt you." She paused. "Derek didn't hurt you, did he?" she whispered.
Penelope closed her eyes and went through the events of the past two nights in her head. Even though he took her forcibly, and saw her naked, he had been nothing but a gentleman. She then remembered the kiss and... no, that definitely did not hurt. "No, Derek, didn't hurt me," she whispered.
"Look, you're cold. You need to get out of those wet clothes. Come on, I'll help you." Fran rose and extended her hand.
Penelope stared at the red-haired lady. There was something oddly familiar about her face and her voice. She knew that she couldn't escape the room and she was freezing. She accepted the older lady's hand and allowed her to to walk her to a door. Fran opened it and guided her into a bathroom. Although not as big as the living area, it was easily the biggest bathroom she'd ever seen. A large glass shower stall stood in one corner and a huge, deep tub stood in the center of the room. A sink and vanity were next to the shower and Fran walked her over to show her a hidden enclave that housed the loo. Like the living room, it was all white and sterile, with almost no color. "Come on, get in the tub. I'll show you how it works."
Penelope nodded but flinched away when Fran tried to tug off Derek's shirt. "I can do it," she protested. Fran nodded and showed her which buttons turned on the jets. She let Penelope test the buttons before she walked to yet another door and disappeared. Penelope stripped off her clothes in record time and since they were wet put them in the sink. She signed as she climbed the two steps to get into the tub, then felt with her foot until she felt another step inside. She eased herself onto the step, then sat down in the center. She dunked her head and sighed as she moved to the side. She learned back and allowed the hot water to warm her. She looked up at the knock on the door and reflexively sank down deep in the water as Fran came in. The woman had a basket in her hands. She pulled out several towels and draped them over a towel warmer, then brought the basket over. Penelope saw it was her own toiletries inside. She watched as Fran set up shampoo, conditioner, and body wash on the edge of the tub.
Penelope nodded her thanks and reached for the shampoo but Fran was quicker. "Let me help you with your hair," the older woman requested.
"It's OK, ma'am," Penelope protested. "I've been washing my own hair since I can I remember."
"Call me Fran," Fran sighed. "And please, let me help you. I won't hurt you, I promise. I have two daughters of my own, you know."
"You really don't have to..."
"I know I don't have to, I want to," Fran insisted. Penelope sighed and turned around. Fran rolled up her sleeves and filled her palm with shampoo, then gently washed the princess's long blonde hair. She took her time, massaging the young woman's scalp before working her way to the ends. Fran tried to focus on the task itself rather than the recipient. She allowed herself to remember helping the Queen fix her hair for occasions. Like her daughter, the Queen was independent. Fran was the only one allowed to style and cut it and Fran loved washing her friend's hair before each cut or style.
Fran finally finished and told Penelope she was going to start rinsing. She was pleased that the girl didn't protest and once the shampoo was rinsed out she applied conditioner. She worked the conditioner through the curls, gently detangling the knots as she went. Penelope did not speak and barely moved. Fran could feel how tight her neck and shoulders were and massaged them as well.
Fran reluctantly finished with the conditioner and after rinsing it away, she handed Penelope the body wash and a poof. She checked the towels and turned on the warmer while Penelope washed. She disappeared into the living area and came back through the opposite door a few minutes later just as the princess finished washing. She brought the warmed towels over before pulling the tub's drain. She held one towel out and the princess stood up and accepted it. Penelope wrapped it around herself then wrung out her hair, then took the other towel and wrapped her hair in it. She accepted Fran's hand as the older woman helped her out of the tub. She allowed Fran to pat her dry.
"Do I know you?" Penelope blurted out suddenly. Fran jumped slightly. The girl hadn't uttered a word since the bath started and that was the last thing Fran expected her to say. Penelope gasped slightly as if she didn't mean for the words to come out.
Fran closed her eyes briefly. "What makes you say that?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Penelope shrugged. "No idea, it's just... you seem so familiar."
"No, Penny, you don't know me," Fran answered. It wasn't a lie. The girl had no idea who she was. Penelope shrugged again in response and let Fran guide her to the vanity and sat in the chair. Fran gently unwound Penelope's hair from the towel. She picked up a hairbrush and brushed through the damp curls before plugging in a hair dryer.
She brushed and dried Penelope's hair, smiling at the natural curls as they dried. They needed minimal help to form and as Fran pushed half of the girl's hair over her shoulder to work on the other half, the towel slipped down the girl's back. Fran gasped when she saw a thin red scar. She turned off the hairdryer and put it down before tugging the towel further down the younger woman's back. Penelope tensed up again when she figured out what Fran was doing. Fran couldn't stop the tears that escaped as she looked at the princess's back. Numerous scars, in various stages of healing, criss-crossed the girl's back. She gently traced what appeared to be the oldest-looking scar with her finger and willed her fury into check when Penelope visibly flinched. Suddenly, her behavior made sense.
Fran wiped her tears and cleared her throat before walking around the chair. She knelt and took the shaking hands of her best friend's daughter in her own. "Penny, who did this to you?" she asked.
Penelope pulled her hands away and shrugged the towel back up over the scars. She squared her shoulders. "I figured you would know his handiwork right away," she replied dryly before squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her lips closed.
"'His'?" Fran repeated. "I don't... he wouldn't... he'd never do anything like this..."
Penelope laughed harshly. "Some people have a way of acting a certain way in public but are completely different behind closed doors."
Fran opened and closed her mouth twice before realization dawned on her. "Penny, why do you think you're here?" she asked.
Penelope shrugged again. "I ran away. He told me that he'd always find me if I tried to run away and then he would sell me to someone who would make him seem nice. I met some of his friends. Some of them are really rich and... do horrible things to girls."
"Oh, Penny!" Fran whispered. "I can't tell you anything..."
"I know. Derek told me that he was under orders to not tell me anything. I expect you have been told the same. All I know is that I was kidnapped by a stranger and brought here against my will. One second I was coming back from the store with a coffee and the next second I woke up handcuffed to a bed and gagged, then driven here and snuck in here like a fugitive."
Fran pushed the towel away from the princess's arms. She studied the red marks that stood out against her pale skin and sighed. "I'm sorry he did that. That son of mine takes his orders seriously. I can't fault him for that. I'm just sorry that you got hurt in the process."
"I've had worse... wait... Derek is your son?" Penelope looked at Fran in surprise.
"Yes," Fran beamed proudly, then scowled as she looked down at Penelope's sore wrists. "I'm going to whoop him silly for hurting and scaring you."
Penelope choked out a laugh, a genuine laugh. The thought of big and strong Derek being scolded by his petite mother, Fran, was amusing.
"You have a pretty smile, Penny," Fran said as she once again picked up the hair dryer and brush. She turned on the dryer and finished Penelope's hair in record time.
Once finished, Fran guided Penelope through the other door and turned on the lights. Penelope gasped as she took in the room: the huge canopy bed, easily the biggest bed she'd ever seen, piled high with pillows and blankets, the carpet was pale pink and so soft and thick her feet sank into it with each step. Everything, aside from the carpet, was stark white. There were also nightstands on either side of the bed and a settee at the foot. A small desk and chair stood against one wall and a chair and matching ottoman were tucked into the far corner near a fireplace. The far wall was dominated by a three pane window with a large window seat. Fran walked to the window and checked the lock before closing the thick, white curtains.
"Come on," Fran opened a set of folding doors that led to a huge closet. The left and right side walls had dressers lining their lengths and rods above them. In the middle of the wall opposite the doors was a vanity identical to the one in the bathroom, although this one had a satin-covered chair. Dressers flanked its sides. The rods were mostly empty save for a few plain dresses and nightgowns. Although she loved clothes and shoes, Penelope had never owned enough clothes in her life to fill half of the closet. "I'm sorry, I didn't have much time to shop," Fran apologized. "When Derek called to tell me you needed some things..."
"It's OK, Fran. You didn't have to go through all the trouble..." Penelope began.
"Nonsense, child," Fran interrupted. "It was no trouble at all, I just didn't have time. Speaking of which, we need to hurry. I'll leave you alone so you can get dressed. Be ready in the living chamber in twenty minutes, dear." Fran kissed Penelope on the forehead. By the time Penelope recovered from the shock of the unexpected display of affection, Fran had hurried out. Penelope rushed out of the closet in time to see one of the bedroom's double doors close. She tested the knobs and was not surprised that they, like their twins in the living area, were locked.
Penelope squared her shoulders. She was frightened but she wasn't going to show it. She was prepared to meet the person responsible for abducting her and she wasn't going to do it in a towel. She marched back into the closet and pulled down cotton-blend pretty white dress. She searched the drawers. Like the rods, they were near empty. She found some undergarments in one and a pair of white flats in another. She sat down at the vanity and was surprised to find her makeup in its bag under it. She quickly swiped on some mascara and lip gloss, then checked her reflection. The dress was not really her; too plain for her usual flamboyancy and too light for her goth hacker style.
She left the closet and closed the doors behind her. She made her way through the bedroom and bathroom, turning off the lights and closing doors behind her. She sat down in front of the fire but was too fidgety to sit still so she got up and looked at the bookshelves. Unlike the closet, about half the shelves in the living area were filled. Penelope scanned the books, recognizing some as classics and some as volumes her brother Spencer owned. Penelope whipped around as a key rattled in the lock. She waited with baited breath as someone knocked on the doors, then threw them open.
A/N: Merry Christmas!
XOXO,
PitaCake
