The journey back to Thornfield felt like an eternity. Cameron refused to wait for the carriage, so we walked the entire way back. His hand holding mine the whole way. Bae, Mrs. Lucas, Killan, and the preacher all followed. I felt nothing as we went… well nothing but shame. Perhaps embarrassment at my own naivety, my stupidity in believing that this would go smoothly. I felt a fool for expecting my happiness to last longer than a month.
We arrived at Thornfield, mostly out of breath but unable to stop. Cameron led the way up the stairs, past his bedroom then my own, continuing to the door that led to the tower. The strange woman I had seen lurking around the castle was there in an outer room, trying to stop the party from continuing on. But he would not be stopped as he opened the second door.
"Here, what remains of Milah Gold." He threw the door open and pulled me in after him.
Huddled in the corner was ghostly looking woman. Her black hair hung in messy curtains, creating a stark contrast to her pale complexion. Her eyes were wild, slowly looking over all who had suddenly entered her room. Without warning she lunged for me, pulling at the delicate veil covering my face and ripping it.
"Mother?" Bae asked, slowly stepping forward. Before we knew what happened Milah made a lunge for the boy, trying to catch him with her nails. Without thinking I moved in front of the boy, letting her rip my veil instead of hurting Bae.
I turned towards him, keeping his face covered so he wouldn't have to witness his father and Killian wrestle his mother to the ground. Ushering the boy from the room we were followed by a very pale preacher and eventually the two men.
"Dearest, go with Mrs. Lucas." I suddenly found my voice, guiding him to the door where the older woman was waiting. Rather than a sympathetic expression I found her glaring towards Mr. Gold. Not for the state of his wife, but for trying to commit such an act that involved me.
"Can anyone wonder, truly wonder why I would rather Belle French as my wife? A woman who would put herself between danger and my son rather than trying to kill him?"
"Kill him? She was startled, probably the first time she has seen the boy since you so viciously locked her up." Killian objected.
"The night you sprung her from the institution and returned her here, that night she tried to kill my son in his sleep" Mr. Gold was furious, seething with displeasure as he slowly moved towards Mr. Jones, forcing his back against the wall. "Do not presume to know the inner workings of my family. I would remind you that you were a dalliance to her, nothing more than a fleeting thought through her sick mind."
I couldn't handle any more.
Quietly I slipped back to the hallway, hiding away in my room, careful to lock the door behind me.
"Belle… Belle…" He called as he knocked gently on the door. "Belle, please, darling. Please open the door."
Ignoring his voice I proceeded to pull the tattered veil and hat from my head, setting it aside on dresser. Next I carefully reached my hands to my back, pulling at the laces of my dress until I could free myself. There was no bride at Thornfield. Fate had spoken, there was to be no happiness for me, no happy ending for the unfortunate Belle French. Somewhere in the great beyond I could just tell that Mr. Glass was smiling vindictively.
Back in my everyday clothes, I slowly looked at myself in the mirror. The pearls. They still hung around my neck. Mocking me.
"Belle!" He startled gently as I opened the door.
"I need some help, I can't take these off on my own." I said, turning back so that he could manage the clasp of my necklace.
"You've changed." He observed, looking over my dress.
"I am not to be a bride, no reason to stay in the costume." I whispered as his fingers grazed the back of my neck.
"Please, please let me explain."
"What is there to explain?" I asked, taking the pearls and returning them to their pouch before taking a seat on the end of the bed.
"Apologize then. I am truly sorry, Belle. It was a selfish act and quite wrong of me to bring you into it all. Milah… she isn't well. She hasn't been since… well, she never really was."
"Then why marry her?"
"I was tricked by her father. They had trained her well enough to control herself while searching for a husband. Of course they were thrilled by my prospects. A fortune, place in society, and a large estate to take her away to. My own family was pleased with her family's wealth as well. Everything started out well enough, there were a few lapses in personality but then we had Bae and I thought that motherhood would help balance her. It had the opposite effect, I'm afraid. A few months after the boy was born she ran off. I found her in Paris, with that bastard Jones."
Finding my weariness getting the best of me, I slowly leaned back onto the bed, Cameron following me. He turned on his side so that he could look down at me, twirling the loose curl I left for him around his index finger.
"Her episodes were more and more frequent after that. Instead of bringing her home I took her to a sanitarium where she would be under constant supervision. Problem was, she liked to run away and her faithful lover was so keen to break her out time and time again. The last time he freed her she decided it was time to return home…"
He paused, his hand moving to ghost across my collar bone.
"The first night she was back something… something snapped, I found her in Bae's room, pressing a pillow to his face. There was nothing else I could think to do. There was a place… a place that would have eventually stolen her life, but I couldn't do that… not even to her."
His fingers were warm against my skin, slowly tracing lines that I knew weren't there. My eyes slowly drifted shut as his lips found mine, softly and repeatedly. For a number of minutes we did nothing but kiss, relishing what was soon to be taken away, for a plan was already forming in my mind.
"We can run away, Belle. To my house on the Mediterranean. We can run and take Bae with us, raise him together, we could be together." He offered, staring down at me. I could tell by looking in his eyes that he knew this was a false hope… that I would never agree to such a sinful life.
"I must leave Thornfield." I whispered, pushing stray hairs away from his face.
He swiftly closed the space between us again, kissing me harder than before. The suddenness took me by surprise, a moan escaping my throat before I could silence it.
"Tell me now, tell me that you can leave me." Cameron's eyes had a desperate gleam.
"I don't want to leave you, but… I can't stay, not when we can't…" A sob caught me off guard as a few stray tears fell from my eyes.
"Please don't." He whispered. I turned to my side, resting my head against his shoulder as his arms encircled me. This would be the last warmth I'd ever feel.
I woke early the next morning, it was still dark when I rose. Cameron… Mr. Gold returned to his room only a few hours earlier, believing that life was going to return to normal.
There was no conceivable way I could remain at Thornfield. No way I could carry on my everyday life mere feet away from the man I loved and desired so ardently. Creeping past his closed door I hurried along to Bae's room. The boy was still asleep, quite unaware of the turmoil going on in the house. Pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, I smoothed down his hair before leaving the room.
With one last look at the house that was supposed to be my home this morning, I pulled up the hood of my cloak and ran.
By the time I reached the woods I was quite out of breath, but I knew if I took a slower pace I would have talked myself out of leaving.
Hours… days… I don't know how long I walked. All the while I heard Cameron Gold's voice echoing on the wind. Another ghost to haunt me, sweet Helen Hood would have company when she appeared in my dreams.
It took quite a while before I realized it was raining. I was up to ankles in mud as I trudged through the storm. If I didn't find shelter soon I would certainly be joining my friend. For the first time since I left Thornfield I acknowledged that I was going to need a place to stay… it would never be home again, just somewhere to rest. This is how I found myself at Moor House. Cold, unconscious, and being carried into the house by a kindly red haired man.