Beauty
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgments
Books by Kris Calvert
Dedication
1: Beauty
2: Beauty
3: Eliza
4: Beauty
5: Eliza
6: Eliza
7: Eliza
8: Beauty
9: Eliza
10: Eliza
11: Beauty
12: Eliza
13: Eliza
14: Beauty
15: Eliza
16: Beauty
17: Eliza
18: Beauty
19: Eliza
20: Eliza
21: Beauty
22: Eliza
23: Beauty
24: Eliza
25: Beauty
26: Eliza
27: Eliza
Author’s Note
Excerpt from Lead Me From Temptation
About the Author
A Note from the Author
Coming Soon
INSPIRED BY ACTUAL EVENTS
KRIS CALVERT
© Copyright 2015 Kris Calvert
Kindle Edition
Excerpt from Lead Me From Temptation copyright © 2015 by Kris Calvert. All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material form the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at www.calvertcommcom. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Cover by Calvert Communications, LLC
Edited by Meg Weglarz and Molly J. Kimbrell
ISBN: 978-1-943180-04-2
Calvert Communications, Lexington, KY 40515
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Acknowledgements
This book is an idea that hatched after reading an article by author, Jesse Bering on the mistreatment of the patients at Rosewood Asylum in Owings Mills, Maryland. The original article can be found at slate.com. Many thanks to Jesse for giving the 166 patients that left the facility under writs of habeas corpus a voice and sparking an idea in me to use it as a backdrop for this book. For more information on Jesse or his books visit his website at www.jessebering.com. The original article can be found here: http://goo.gl/8WhurY
Thank you to Donna for encouraging me to stretch my wings in my subject matter and for your constant support and unending knowledge.
Thank you to my lunch crew for the fun and encouragement.
Thank you to Meg and Molly for always making me look good. I couldn’t do it without either of you.
Finally, thank you to my adoring husband, Rob and my two children who aren’t children anymore, Luke and Haley. I love you all, with all my heart.
Books by Kris Calvert
Sex, Lies & Sweet Tea – Book One
Sex, Lies & Lipstick – Book Two
Sex, Lies & Pearls – Book Three
Be Mine – a Valentine’s Day Novella
Sparks Fly – an Independence Day Novella
Roses are Wrong, Violets Taboo
Sex, Lies & Lace – Winter 2016
Deliver Me From Evil – Spring 2016
Kris Calvert’s Website:
www.kriscalvert.com
For my friend and psychic medium Kathryn Kauffman.
You are a light that helps others to see.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgments
Books by Kris Calvert
Dedication
Prologue
1: Beauty
2: Beauty
3: Eliza
4: Beauty
5: Eliza
6: Eliza
7: Eliza
8: Beauty
9: Eliza
10: Eliza
11: Beauty
12: Eliza
13: Eliza
14: Beauty
15: Eliza
16: Beauty
17: Eliza
18: Beauty
19: Eliza
20: Eliza
21: Beauty
22: Eliza
23: Beauty
24: Eliza
25: Beauty
26: Eliza
27: Eliza
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Excerpt from Lead Me From Temptation
About the Author
A Note from the Author
Coming Soon
From 1911 to 1933, 166 patients, mostly girls, left the Rosewood Asylum for the Feeble Minded outside of Baltimore, Maryland under writs of habeas corpus to unknowingly become slaves for the bluebloods of Baltimore society. When it was finally discovered, only 102 girls could be accounted for—the other 64 were never located or heard from again.
PROLOGUE
2009
The wheels of the dusty Mercedes sedan came to a halt at the end of the neglected lane. The years of careless disregard for everything on the property were painfully evident. Still, a small crowd had gathered to bid on some of the items–unusual and otherwise—left behind in the rush to evacuate. To relocate. To forget.
The old man’s assistant rushed from the driver’s side to assist him as he placed the tip of his cane on the bone-dry mud and stray pebbles still scattered upon what was once a pristine and manicured lane.
“Let me help you, sir.” The young man took his arm and raised him from the car as if unloading a delicate piece of artwork.
Pushing from the black doorframe of the car, the old man balanced himself and caught his reflection in the shine of his black shoes. With minimal effort and one heavy sigh, he was standing. At ninety-two, he still refused to give up his formal ways, always wearing a suit and tie every day just as he’d done for the past seventy-five years. He balanced himself as he checked the time on the gold pocket watch that hung from his vest before tucking it back into its proper resting place. Like his watch, he was an antique—well taken care of, yet frangible. “I’m fine.”
With a glance toward the east end of the property, he blinked hard and dropped his head. The rose garden, now mostly a gnarled snake of burrs and thorns, still managed a few scrawny buds. The idea that the roses still bloomed in the midst of the rubble caused the old man to pause. “As a rose among the thorns, so is my beloved amongst the girls.” He muttered the words and adjusted the golden skeleton head that served as the knob of his cane to gain a foothold before shutting the car door behind him.
The old man’s assistant watched him carefully. It was obvious he wanted to help without compromising the gentleman’s independence. “Sir,” he began. “It’s my understanding that the auction is to happen behind the main building.”
The old man nodded as he watched others arrive around him and hurry to the western side of the rotting structure. The sun would set soon, marking the end of the day—marking the end of years of misery.
“No need to hurry,” the old man replied as he placed one foot in front of the other, slow and with purpose. “What I came for will surely be overlooked by most.”
1
BEAUTY
Day 1,509—at least that’s my best guess. It’s another beautiful spring day and the sun streams through the wrought iron bars that cover the stone window of my small quarters warming my skin. As
I write these words, I fear for my existence. I fear I’ll be found out. The spells are coming more frequently and with greater violence. If the king should suspect, or God forbid, the queen, I’ll surely be banished to the darkest part of the castle or worse, removed altogether. As horrible as the kingdom of Rosewood might be, it is the only place I know in my heart my one true love will find me. The dreams and the darkness tell me so. I must remain vigilant. I must not lose hope. It is the one thing I have.
Placing the nub of the pencil on the table, I stopped to admire the indentions my fingers had made over the last few thousand words—the name on the side a distant memory. I’d worn it off, sharpened it down to what I now had. Still, it was mine and I found beauty in the simple things like even owning the pencil. Folding the letter I’d written to no one but myself, I took care not to crease it terribly before placing it under the mattress of my bed. I would take the time when night came to hide it away in the wall. My writings and drawings were forbidden, but I didn’t care. I had only a few possessions—my words, my pictures and the darkness were my one connection to what I was—a princess.
I stared out the window high above the expansive gardens below. The afternoon sun warmed my face and illuminated my blonde hair, casting an even greater light on my already flushed cheeks. I closed my eyes and tilted my face to the heavens, drinking in the day. When I did finally open them, I looked down to find a guard watching me closely. The guards watched me—they watched with intent—always pursing their lips and flaring their nostrils when I walked the halls. I didn’t mind so much. I’d always commanded a certain amount of respect with the king’s servants—in particular the king’s son, Edmund. He’d come to the palace a few weeks ago, but since his arrival always had a kind word and a smile for me.
I rearranged the modest bedclothes on my mattress and scanned my room to ensure that nothing was out of place. All I had was my bed, an ancient armoire that held the few articles of clothing I owned, my red corded bracelet and my mirror.
The writing table was bare with the exception of one dried rose petal—a remnant of the flower I’d brought into my room after a brief moment in the garden last week. Anna, the queen, found it and promptly removed it from my room. One petal fell to the floor as she confiscated the red rose, and I’d hidden it—saved it as if I’d never have a flower in my hand again. I longed for anything to connect me to the world outside the walls of Rosewood—outside my prison.
Sitting at the table, I brought the now paper-thin petal to my nose, praying there was a whisper of fragrance still contained in the once velvet pad and stared into the darkness of the mirror. Inhaling the petal, I looked at myself. Long blonde curls cascaded across my shoulders. I smiled and yet my mouth didn’t move. I could see the crown upon my head and I watch it gleam in the afternoon sun.
“Hello?”
The voice startled me and I discretely tucked the decaying petal into the palm of my hand and placed the mirror face of the down on the table. Turning, I found Edmund standing in the open doorway. “Good afternoon, Edmund.” I whispered the words like a child with a secret as I placed the petal back onto the table. Edmund didn’t mind me having flowers. In fact, he was the one who allowed me to bring the last rose back to my chambers.
“It’s time.”
I knew without asking. I was due to meet with the king—overdue. “Boris is finally ready to speak with me?”
“Well, yes,” Edmund replied as he beckoned me with his strong hand to come with him.
“Okay,” I sighed as I stood and brushed the blue dress with tiny white flowers across my narrow hips showing off my lean body. It was a simple frock but I wore it well.
I walked to Edmund, never dropping my gaze. “I suppose if the king wants to speak with me I’d better go.”
“I think that’s a fine idea,” Edmund replied with a casual smile.
He waited for me to exit the room and shut the door behind me as I lingered in the hallway. It wasn’t that I was afraid to walk the castle halls alone, but I felt safer with Edmund by my side. An oversized man, as any prince should be, Edmund wore the keys to the kingdom at his waist at all times. When he reached for them, the muscles in his arm would tense. Even more inviting to me was his watch. It reminded me of another time—another life.
The hallways of Rosewood were dimly lit and made me think of stories I read as a child. Handsome princes slaying dragons to claim the love of the princess held captive. Each time I wandered the grounds, I couldn’t help but wonder who else had been held prisoner over the years like me, inside those cold, damp walls. Rosewood had a history. I sensed it. I dreamt about it.
The plain and empty stone that was the kingdom seemed ancient and was cool to the touch. I thought of what it must be like to walk beyond the walls and right out of Rosewood as I trailed my fingers across the frigid stones and sandy mortar.
Three turns through the hallways and down a circular staircase that seemed as if it had been there since the beginning of time, and I was almost to my destination.
“Watch your head,” Edmund warned as he touched the white rock high above his tall frame with his massive hand.
“Edmund,” I teased. “I couldn’t hit that with my head if I tried.”
He gave me a smile and I knew he would do just about anything for me—anything but set me free.
I waltzed down the hallway feeling the coolness of the floor under my bare feet. Stopping only for a moment, I pulled my blue dress away from the tile to look at my toes for no reason other than to see my own feet. With a wiggle of each digit I giggled, immediately dropping the blue fabric back to the ground and walking forward to catch up with Edmund. He waited patiently at the entrance of the King’s chambers.
“I’ll be right here when you’re finished.” Edmund smiled as he motioned with his hand for me to enter. “I’d like to chat with you myself.”
With a nod, I placed my thin fingers on the handle of the old door and gave it a push. I knew salvation lay within the four walls of the king’s chambers. He and he alone had the power to set me free, or keep me captive forever.
“Thank you, Dr. Gold.” The king’s voice boomed with authority.
I kept my eyes down as I shut the door behind me and leaned against it. I was nervous and didn’t want to sit directly in front of the king. Being in his chambers made me anxious—even more than my fits.
“Please sit,” the king ordered.
I lifted my gaze from the floor to survey his quarters for what seemed to be the millionth time, trying to find something new. It occupied my mind and kept me from talking too much. I guarded my words with the king and the queen. I’d heard tales of what could become of a girl at Rosewood if she talked too much.
The king’s chambers were more warm and inviting than the rest of the castle. Almost homey, I knew he spent countless hours in the room he’d covered in art, tapestries and accolades. The stale air in the room made me uneasy and I thought he should open a window—not only for the fresh air, but for the light it would cast into the chambers. As it was, the king’s room was dark and depressing—but then again, I found the king dark and depressing.
“Did you hear me?” he asked, his deep voice echoing through the chamber.
I reluctantly took a seat in the ornate chair covered in red fabric gripping the arms to calm my nerves.
“How are you? Ah…”
“Beauty.” I blurted my name out in haste before he had a chance to ruin it.
“How are you today, Beauty?”
He seemed pleased with himself in his fancy chair and adjusted the heavy medallion hung around his neck that proclaimed to everyone he was King of Rosewood. He had a fatherly look to him, but I believed his overly gentle nature was an act—a charade to make me feel safe in his presence. I’d resigned myself long ago to never tell him more than he needed to know. I’d had visions and they weren’t pleasant.
I rolled the red string on my wrist through my fingers and answered his question with another question. �
��How do you think I’m doing?”
“That’s what I asked you, young lady,” he replied as he rubbed his bearded chin and narrowed the steely gaze directed at me over his glasses.
“Tell me what you want me to say, your Majesty.”
“Why don’t you just call me Boris?”
I adjusted my hips in the big chair searching for a comfortable spot on the cushion. The king wanted me to feel safe. He wanted me to call Rosewood home. That was never going to happen.
“I think you know I’d rather die than give you the satisfaction of desecrating the sanctuary of my mind. I’ve reserved that space for me, and my one true love. And he’s coming for me someday. He is,” I announced as I stood and began to pace the room.
“Please sit,” he ordered.
“I don’t want to sit.” I could tell by the look on his face my response was beginning to irritate his sense of civility.
“Sit.” He ground out the word between his tobacco-stained teeth, forcing a counterfeit smile.
I made a sweeping motion with my arms as if I were dancing. Turning in circle twice I sat again letting out a sigh. Spreading my dress across the Persian carpet that lay in the king’s chambers, I gazed for the first time into the eyes of Boris. “What else do you want to know?” Slowly and deliberately, I blinked my eyes and pouted my lips.
“Are you sleeping?” he asked as he folded his hands and rested them in his lap.
“I sleep alone each night, waiting for my prince to come and rescue me. And he will…” I paused waiting for his reaction. “No matter what you or your queen believe to be true.”
“Do we need to talk about Anna again? Ah…” The king leaned toward me and I watched him search the random corners of his mind for my name.
“Beauty,” I said in disgust as I shook my head. “Are there really so many of us here that you can’t even remember who you’ve taken captive? And yes, Queen Anna is hateful and she doesn’t like me.”
“I’m sure she only wants to help you.”