Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 93

Chapter 93: Cost of Coming Home

The carriage slowed as it reached Brackenwell and came to a creaking halt. Ruelle stepped down, her trunk set carefully at her feet. For a moment she stood watching the carriage wheels roll away, the familiar rattle fading into the narrow road. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

She drew in a breath that smelt of wood smoke. Home at last, she thought to herself with a smile. She then took hold of the trunk’s handle before pulling it towards the house.

A few villagers noticed her at once. Heads turned with their voices lowered. One of the men nudged the fellow beside him and muttered,

"Looks like Harold Belmont’s troubles are finally coming to an end."

"With his gambling habits? Hardly," the other man snorted. He shamelessly traced the figure Ruelle had begun to fill out.

"I think Sexton will put a price on her. High enough to settle debts, I’d wager," whistled the first one.

Their words never reached Ruelle. She was too far away and far too occupied with the pleasant mood to notice the murmurs trailing behind her.

When she reached the front door of her house, she set her trunk aside and knocked. A moment later it was opened by her mother.

"Mother, I am home," Ruelle greeted brightly.

Mrs. Belmont stood in the doorway, her expression faltering for the briefest moment as her eyes swept over Ruelle’s well-tailored dress, the polished shoes, and the healthy colour in her cheeks.

"Good. You are here after all. It seems my letter reached you," Mrs. Belmont said with a slight smile.

"It did," Ruelle replied, stepping forward and embracing her mother, warmth filling her chest. "Forgive me for not visiting the past weekends. I was caught up with things."

"So I see," Megan murmured as a faint crease appeared between her brows. She asked, "It seems you have been doing well in Sexton?"

Though Mrs. Belmont’s words were meant to ask about earnings, Ruelle mistook them as concern for her wellbeing. She nodded and replied,

"Yes, I have been doing well, Mother. How have you and Father been?"

"We have been managing. Your father kept asking when you might come. He will be pleased to see you. Let me help you with the trunk. You must be tired from the journey," Mrs. Belmont took the trunk from Ruelle’s hands with an eagerness that almost seemed kind. She then said, "Why don’t you go wash up?"

Those simple words were enough to brighten Ruelle’s mood. She replied, "Okay."

Once Ruelle disappeared down the corridor, Mrs. Belmont set the trunk on the table and flipped it open. The older woman’s hands quickly rummaged through the things before her hands paused over a small velvet box. She picked it up.

And when she opened it, diamonds caught the light. Megan Belmont stared at the earrings in her palm.

"Sexton must be treating her very well... if I had to send a letter just to remind her to return," she murmured to herself.

She walked to her own room and murmured, "It wouldn’t do for something so valuable to get misplaced. I will keep these safe for you, Ruelle," and she set the earrings on the side table.

Ruelle closed the door of the room she shared with Caroline. Everything inside was exactly as she remembered it. From the mattress to the dressing table still scattered with Caroline’s old ribbons. Nothing had changed. And yet she felt oddly out of place standing there.

Perhaps it was because since the last few months, she had spent more time in Sexton than she had at home. How strange that before leaving for Sexton, she had been worried and she smiled at the thought of it.

She then tied her hair the way she used to when she was here. At Sexton she had fallen into the habit of letting her hair down, which had always kept her neck and ears hidden.

When Ruelle heard the sound of carriage wheels stopping in front of the house, she thought it was possibly Caroline who had arrived. But then she heard raised voices and she wondered what was going on outside. She made her way to the living room and at the same time the front door opened and her father stepped inside.

For a second, Ruelle nearly failed to recognise him.

His coat was rumpled, his hair untidy. There was a faint bruise darkening near his jaw, yet the man looked prideful.

"Harold!" Mrs. Belmont hurried forward at once, with an alarmed expression. "What happened?! Are you hurt?"

"Father—are you alright? Who—" Ruelle’s words faltered the moment she noticed two men stepping inside the house, right behind him.

Debt collectors. Their coats were respectable enough, but their boots were scuffed and muddied as though they had spent the night walking through streets rather than sitting at any gentleman’s table. One of them looked around the modest house with open disdain before his gaze returned to Mr. Belmont.

"You have some nerve," the man sneered, "thinking you could try running away and we wouldn’t find you."

"I told you I wasn’t running away!" Mr. Belmont answered through gritted teeth. "I was only going to visit my frie—"

"Speak another word and your face won’t be the only thing I damage," the first Halfling cut him off, spitting onto the floorboards. "You have enough coins to gamble through the night, but none to pay what you owe?"

"You said you would settle it today, Harold Belmont," the second Halfling added coolly. "Come on Saturday and take your money. Those were your words, weren’t they?"

The Halfling’s eyes moved to Mrs. Belmont and then they landed on Ruelle. He commented, "Looks like the daughter has returned too."

Ruelle stiffened beneath the sudden attention. The person’s gaze slid over her in a way that made her skin crawl and she felt the room shrink around her. Her hands curled at her sides as she fought the instinct to step backward.

She turned to her father without thinking, hoping for some reassurance. But he was already looking at her. Then, as though the answer had been obvious all along, he spoke,

"Ruelle, give them the money."

"What?" The word left her in a small, breathless whisper.

The first Hafling turned to her completely and stated, "Your father said you earn well, as you are in Sexton. Now hand over the money."

Ruelle stared at the man, her pulse racing and she managed to speak, "I—I don’t have that much money. I don’t earn anything there."

A harsh laugh burst from the Halfling’s mouth. He turned back to her father and said in a low, threatening voice,

"If you didn’t owe me such a large sum, I’d rip your head clean off your shoulders right this instant. But I guess an arm will do as well."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify