From the Journal of Katherine Fleming-Drake: Day One of My Inexplicable Captivity
Day One of My Inexplicable Captivity
I suppose upon reflection that letting the others proceed ahead was not the best of ideas. But truly the artwork on the walls was intriguing and one does not ever expect that by wandering into a small hallway to look at it that one might find oneself surrounded by robed and masked abductors. I put great spirit into trying to break free, but there were too many of them and I was mishandled rudely as I was restrained. I am greatly annoyed as to the disregard as to where those people put their hands on my person, but I must admit that I kicked, twisted and cried out as much as I could to escape so their task of portage and escape with me was made harder. It does not excuse their lack of civility towards a lady, but there is a measure of understanding that one can give them.
However, whatever forgiveness I could generously afford them was gone the moment that they murdered those poor men. Slit their throats and sacrificed them for some foul magic that made a stone altar glow and become a magic portal. As one could guess as I was taken towards it, I redoubled my efforts to escape and cried out mightily for aid. But to no avail. My captors clamped horrid hands over my mouth and held me so tightly that I could barely draw breath. Laced in as I was in evening dress, breath was already precious and they twisted my skirts and my train around my legs to bind me even more effectively with little regard to the embroidery andmaterial.
As an aside, dear journal, alas another evening gown is ruined. My father simply will not believe me when I tell him that I will need more gowns. Between filthy, evil men, bullet holes, and blood, I am utterly destroying a vast fortune of satin and flippery. Ezekiel and I simply must stop attending balls and formal dinners lest we all go bankrupt trying to keep me dressed. But back to my narrative while it is clear in my mind.
We appeared at some great house where I was hustled into a large set of rooms. And. . .here. ..well this is where I realized that worst can be done to one’s person. Oh Ezekiel, I miss and long for you my love and pray that you are seeking me! I was undressed against my will! By women, mind you, but simply taken to nakedness and then bathed and oiled like a child and a savage. On top of that, they produced razors. I started from the water of the bath thinking that I was to be murdered but these women restrained me and proceeded to remove the hair from my body! I would have shrieked, but to be honest I was so shocked I merely let them do what they would.
What insanity have I fallen into, what den of iniquity? My dearest heart, only your hands have been so familiar on me and I shudder with fury that others have manhandled me so atrociously. I am a married woman and an Englishwoman to boot!
My eyes have been outlined in some black and green substances and my lips and cheeks have been painted like a prostitute. I am quite unhappy with this, but all my efforts to remove the makeup have been foiled and their art repaired with much twittering and what I can only assume to be fussing. My hair has been undone and they have strained and fussed, trying to make it do what they will. They seem quite enamored of it, smiling and combing it although its tendency to curl and wave seems to consternate them.
I now sit here on a pile of pillows, dressed in what charitably can be called clothing, although it is material so thin and loosely woven as to be no more than gauze. I thank the Lord that my hair is long enough to cover my breasts; far too much can be seen through this costume. I have been adorned in gold and semi-precious stones like some ancient idol although they have entirely failed to bring me shoes or sandals of any fashion. Decency and modesty seem to be qualities not found here since the women that guard me are dressed very much like myself. Looking at them, I can only blush, so I despair of how I must appear. Poor Neecy would never awaken; they would have to make him a bed upon the pillows to keep him from hurting his head as he fell limp to the ground.
I have never been so vulnerable and so watched at the same time. I am never left alone in this lovely, gilded prison, never left alone to explore my surroundings unencumbered by watching eyes. The garden in the center of the room is quite beautiful and filled with peacocks and other exotic, furry little animals that seem very tame. It is my only happiness so far, aside from the fact that they have left me my little journal to write in.
I am not allowed to feed myself nor am I given proper utensils for eating like a human; the women surround me constantly, preening and touching me as if I were a goddess and poking food at me morning and night. I, of course, would not eat a smidgen for the first day, and they chattered at me with great annoyance. I cannot understand a word that they speak although they speak at me with subdued voices and lowered eyes. I did eat by what I can consider the midday the next day, today in fact. Hunger overcame my stubbornness and I decided that starving myself would not aid in my escape. But again, no utensils, nothing to aid my escape or to use as a weapon.
There is no doubt that I will escape. I do not know their plans for me, if I am to be taken into a harem or held for ransom. But I shall not stand for it, not one bit! There is not a place, gilded or plain that I can’t wander away from to my own content. I, like a cat, do not like to be caged. It will pain me to hurt them. . .these women have been kind in their own savage way, but I shall deal what pain I must to escape. Once I find some decent covering to hide what can only be seen as my nakedness. Please dear Lord, let it be my beloved who finds me first. I will simply die of embarrassment if Bertie or Alexi lay eyes upon me in this state. Ezekiel, I know that you come for me, but dearest love, I cannot sit here and wait placidly for your rescue. If I try to come to you and you to me, thenI have no doubt that we will find one another, the Lord willing.
I wonder if I can ask for a knife to sharpen my pencil and look innocent in the asking?
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