Bride In Black

Author's Notes:

'Bride in Black' is my story for Literotica's Beyond the Wall of Sleep story event.

This is my first attempt at writing Gothic Horror. I hope it's not... horrific!

Yeah... I got nothing.

First published in 2019, it was given a little polishing on 2024.01.12 for publishing on Amazon and refreshing on Literotica.

All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.

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Bride in Black

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Chapter 1

"Eleanor Ward."

Saying the name out loud in the empty train cabin didn't ease any of the dread clutching at Eleanor's heart, and a sick chill seeped into her bones. While her current surname, Buntington, may have had less gravitas, at least it didn't come with a fiancé almost three times her young age of twenty-three years.

She glanced down at the wrinkled parchment of the letter from her father once more, her eyes feverishly hunting for some clever wording to disclose the hidden jest of it all or perhaps an escape clause in this sick contract.

The cruel reality was her father's rough scratching was equally blunt in his prose.

She was to return from London to the family manor at once. Her allowance, which allowed her to remain in the city and attend the university, was immediately cut off, aside from the small sum required to pay for her return by train and carriage.

The reason for his drastic and sudden change of heart? He was dying. He didn't have much time left, according to his doctor.

He had no male heirs. Eleanor was the only child his wife had managed to carry to full term and birth live. With no male to carry on the family name, her father decided to marry off his only daughter to his neighbor and merge the estates.

The man who was to be her husband was a widow and had no legitimate male heirs of his own. A few bastards, yes, which just proved he held no respect for the sanctity of wedding vows.

Eleanor's new purpose would be to give this man a male heir. She shivered at the repugnant idea.

Her father believed her flight of fancy, attending veterinary school in London, was a needless waste of her potential as a breeder.

Eleanor's stomach once more attempted to escape from her mouth, and she held her handkerchief over her lips as she forced the bile back down.

Her friend Becky had been trying to convince her to become a nurse for years. While she knew the career was noble, her intense curiosity, voracious appetite for knowledge, and ambition pushed her in a different direction. Her first inclination was to be a medical doctor, perhaps even a surgeon, but the violent backlash she'd experienced when she attempted to pursue that goal had proven too daunting. Her affinity for animals and one sympathetic professor made her alternate career choice a natural path to follow, not that her father understood.

From the professor's personal library, she'd read a copy of Charles Darwin's recently published book, 'On the Origin of Species' and knew in her heart she was reading the

truth

. At the very least, it was closer to the truth than anything she'd previously been exposed to.

Then the letter arrived and destroyed her plans.

After hearing the news of her best friend's summons to return home, Becky begged her to apply to the newly opened Nightingale Training School and Home for Nurses at St Thomas' Hospital. Her father would see the merit in such a distinguished pursuit in a proper career for a woman!

Even her best friend didn't understand Eleanor's dream.

She'd seriously contemplated refusing her father's command, but London was such an expensive place to live. The allowance he'd given her barely enabled her to afford the tiny room in the boarding house, her tuition, and school supplies. For the latter, she'd begun accepting the charity of the university's discards and made great use of the library for textbooks.

Only the kind professor's generosity in sharing the occasional lunch kept her from starving.

After all that, she had no savings to pay her way, nor was she willing to marry just to have a place to live. Husbands weren't likely to allow their spouses to leave the house for anything more than the daily shopping. If she were married, there'd be no possibility of her continuing her studies.

She held onto the faintest hope that she might convince her father on his deathbed to change his mind and free her from this existence of servitude.

He'd doted on her once and loved her enough to let her follow her dreams to London. She'd tried to instill in him a sense of pride by sending him letters with reports on her achievements, which seemed to work for a time. Then, her expenses increased, but her allowance did not. Soon, she couldn't afford to send letters as frequently, then not at all. She cursed silently as her lack of contact was likely one of the main factors that allowed him to have a change of heart about supporting her.

She dabbed at her tears of frustration before they had a chance to fall. She would not allow herself to give in to the despair in her heart. She would find a way to change her imposed destiny.

Her stomach grumbled, complaining at the emptiness where a meal should have been.

To make the train, she'd had to miss breakfast. With no traveling money, she skipped lunch as well. The train was so slow and stopped frequently, so it was approaching mid-afternoon when she drew close to her first destination. From there, it would take a carriage ride of a few hours on rough roads to get to her father's manor.

The tiny village of Bailey-on-Theeds was the end of the line for the train. She might be the only passenger on the train at this point. Few traveled here, and the residents rarely left. She was surprised the rail system continued to service the station. They had to be losing money just on the coal burned to get there and back from the previous station.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Eleanor jumped. She saw it was the stern conductor staring in at her. She nodded, and he opened the door.

"Final stop. You have baggage in the car?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes, a small trunk," she replied as she tried to settle her nerves.

He gave her a quick nod and left.

With a sigh, Eleanor put the letter back into her purse. Her limited clothes fit within the small case she carried with her. The remaining items, stored in the trunk, were all related to her schooling and were the most precious things she'd ever owned.

When the train finally came to a stop, she rose and carried her belongings from the train. The conductor assisted her down to the platform.

Looking in both directions, she saw no sign of the carriage that was to take her to her father's estate. The conductor climbed back aboard as she continued to search.

A terrible crash sounded behind her, and she spun to see her trunk had been dropped from the baggage car.

"Be careful with that!" she called out angrily, her temper stoked by her hunger.

"It was too heavy," the young man in the baggage car snapped back at her, scowling angrily.

She rushed closer and saw the trunk was damaged. A wide crack ran up one side.

"You've ruined my trunk! You're going to pay for its replacement!" Eleanor insisted.

The train worker jumped down and marched over to glare down at her. He had to be close to six feet tall and towered over her five-foot-four frame as he fixed his glare on her.

"I don't have to pay for nuffin'! You're not the bloody Queen, giving me orders!" he spat. She could see he wasn't hired for his intellect.

Though cutting words were poised on the tip of her tongue, she said nothing as her common sense finally decided to surface. Her lips remained closed, though she couldn't keep her disgust from her expression.

The train began to move, so, with a final snort, the big thug used both hands to give Eleanor a firm shove against her chest. The act caught her by surprise. She only had time to squeak in shock before falling with bruising force on the hard cobbles.

The baggage worker grabbed a handle on the side of the train car, swinging himself up and inside the door quickly. She heard his braying laughter as the train moved away.

Standing painfully once more, she felt the ache deep in the muscles of her bottom. That would make her long carriage ride especially unpleasant. Not that any other aspect of this journey had been particularly joyous.

Once more, dismay and dread swept over her, and she fought back a gasp as tears threatened to fall. Only through sheer force of will was she able to hold them off. She took deep, even breaths until she felt her emotions calm.

Dusting herself off, she picked up her dropped purse and case to walk over to the trunk. She gripped the handle and dragged it under the shelter of the station's extended roof. A glance at the skies showed nothing but dark grey clouds. The air seemed to tingle in anticipation of the incoming storm.

She went to the ticket window in the station building as she'd seen movement inside.

"Hello?" she called out, and a moment later, an older man appeared on the other side of the glass. He removed the plate covering the mesh he could speak through.

"Yes?"

"My name is Eleanor Buntington. I was told a carriage would be waiting for me when I arrived. It was to take me to my father's estate."

The man nodded as he looked at some papers on the counter inside. Eleanor heard him mumbling to himself then he looked up at her.

"Yes, there was a request for a carriage, but it was canceled—"

"Canceled?!?" she blurted.

"Don't interrupt me, dear. It's rude!" the stationmaster said with a scowl.

"My apologies. It's been a frightful day," she said contritely.

The old man was visibly upset and scowled as he attempted to settle himself.

"As I was saying, the carriage was canceled as we were informed another carriage would be arriving to take you to the estate." He paused his explanation to look past her at the empty street. "It was to have been here when the train arrived. It must be late."

Eleanor bit back the sharp response that flashed into her mind and nodded. Instead, she took a breath and smiled at the man. "Did the person who indicated the second carriage would pick me up leave their name?"

Sighing wearily, the gentleman looked at the papers once more. "It was a Mr. Hughes."

Eleanor didn't recognize the name. "I don't know a Mr. Hughes."

The older man blinked at her. "Well, he knew your name, the train you were arriving on, and that there was a carriage reserved."

Eleanor's unease just increased. She looked around and then back to the man. "Is the other carriage still available?" She believed her father would pay the driver when they arrived.

"No. The driver went home, and by now, the horses are back in their stalls for the night," he explained slowly. "You may sit on the bench under cover of the roof and be patient for Mr. Hughes' arrival. The station is now closed, and my supper is waiting for me. Good day."

He closed the little window without further delay, leaving her gaping at his quick departure.

The wind picked up, and with it came the first hints of the rain to come.

Out of options, Eleanor dragged her luggage to the bench that was under the roof's protection. The area was open on two sides, so the wind found no obstruction to its rushing through the gap. She shivered and settled on the bench to wait as she honestly had no other recourse. Her funds were depleted, and she had no friends or acquaintances in this small village to turn to for assistance.

The wind continued to strengthen, and the promised rain arrived with a fury. She managed to avoid most of it, but the wind blowing through the passage carried the dampness, and she shivered in the shadows under the roof.

Just when she began to fear she would freeze to death, the rain slowed to a drizzle, and a glimmer of light appeared on the road leading to the station. The light grew brighter as it approached until, in the misting rain, she could make out the shape of a lantern hanging from the side of a carriage. It turned and parked next to the platform.

The footman jumped down from his position next to the driver and rushed under the roof's protection. He looked around, spotted her, and approached in the gloom. She saw he was shorter than she was and had a slight build under his rain slicker. His face was gently scarred, perhaps from a childhood disease.

"Are you Ms. Buntington?" he asked. She nodded. "Your carriage awaits," the man said with a deep bow. She almost smiled at his theatrical gestures until she saw his eyes traveling down her body.

"Are these your bags?" he asked, and she nodded once more. He lifted the case and grabbed the trunk's handle to tug it behind him.

"It's heavy!" he grunted as it scraped along the ground behind him as they walked towards the carriage.

Eleanor glanced at the man. "Yes. It contains my books and tools. Please be careful with it." She received another grunt in acknowledgment.

He moved forward, opened the carriage door, and assisted her inside before closing the door behind her.

"Oh!" she yelped in surprise as she spotted a fat man sitting on the forward bench.

After her initial fright, she became cross as the man remained silent, a leer on his broad lips.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my carriage?" she snapped, her nerves frayed.

"Listen to you. Not yet wed to my father and already placing a claim on his property," he sneered with disdain.

"Your father? Are you a Ward?"

"Silas hasn't seen value in acknowledging me as his legitimate son, so I remain Otto Hughes," he said bitterly, wiping his flushed face with a soiled handkerchief.

There was a loud thump and clatter as the footman attempted to lift the heavy trunk to the roof. Eleanor fretted about the damage being done to her prized possessions. The carriage rocked from the footman climbing up to the seat, and Eleanor looked out the small back window as she couldn't recall if she'd heard the trunk reach the roof. Then, the man's spoken name sank into her mind, and she turned to face him.

"You're the one who canceled my original carriage," Eleanor blurted as she recognized his name.

He smiled and nodded. "I did indeed. I arrived early this morning and gave them the instructions as I meant to pick you up to deliver you to your father. Then I discovered I received incorrect information on the train's arrival time. There was nothing for it but to spend the day at the local tavern while I waited. They served a delightful supper."

Eleanor fumed as he'd made these decisions for her without thought, and then he'd failed to arrive on time.

"Perhaps you could explain why you canceled the carriage my father arranged for me?" she asked as carefully as possible, trying to hide her anger.

The heavy man blinked at her and nodded as if deciding her question was worthy of an answer. "Father has seen fit to marry again and plans to have a legitimate son to inherit his estate upon his passing. I felt the need to speak to his bride-to-be to explain my circumstances and ensure certain financial obligations are met."

Eleanor held his eyes. "Financial obligations?"

Otto nodded. "The old man keeps an account I draw upon to maintain my lifestyle. This must continue."

Eleanor shook her head. "I'm sure I won't be consulted about the continuance of any financial arrangements your father may have with you."

"But you are the woman who will shortly be sharing the bed of the man who does make those decisions. I trust your feminine wiles will be put to good use," he said with another leer.

"That is a most vulgar request, sir." She stared closer at the man seated across from her. His eyes were glassy, and his face remained flushed. "A-are you drunk?" she asked incredulously.

He looked away. "I might have enjoyed some pints of the inn's fine ale." His reddened eyes returned to stare at her. "Vulgar or not, this request pertains to

my

future, which my

father

has not seen fit to guarantee. I will say what I must and take whatever steps are needed to ensure I get what I deserve!"

It was Eleanor's turn to look away as bitterness flared within her. "None of us get what we deserve."

Small eyes watched her expression, then slid down to become fixed on her modest bosom.

Trapped in her thoughts, she missed the moment Otto decided she wasn't worth the effort to sway her opinion. Granted, the man's capacity for making an effort was as limited as his compassion. He lifted his walking stick and thumped the carriage roof twice.

The noise drew her attention back to him. Then she noticed the carriage began to move more quickly.

Otto sighed to himself. "No point in delaying your journey to your... final destination, then."

Her anger flared as this man had been purposefully delaying her again! She bit back a sharp comment and turned her face from him once more.

The ride was not smooth, and each time she felt herself slipping into the grip of sleep, the carriage would jolt badly and wake her. While she had no desire to sleep in front of the vile man, the day had taken too much out of her, and she'd had nothing to eat or drink.

She lost track of time as her mind straddled the line between the realms of consciousness and sleep. In those brief moments when she surfaced long enough to note her surroundings, she heard Otto snoring loudly. Just one more element to disturb her rest.

Eleanor wasn't aware of the moment when the carriage wheels went silent. The sensation of movement continued, but the noise and vibrations simply disappeared. They were racing along as quickly as before on a smooth surface that swallowed up the sound of hooves and wheels on dirt.

Sometime later, the horses began to snort and whinny, disturbed by something, and the carriage began to slow. The driver's voice could be heard, cursing at the beasts which pulled them.

It was the animal's unease that finally drew Eleanor back to the surface. She listened carefully and heard the horse's nervous exhalations. Something was definitely spooking them.

"We've arrived?" Otto muttered as he surfaced from sleep.

She cast a glance at him and pulled back the curtain to look outside. In all directions, she could only see darkness. There was no more rain, so she glanced up and saw a few stars through the thick canopy of leaves overhead. She didn't recognize anything. This wasn't her father's estate.

"Where are we?" she asked but only received a smug grin from Otto.

The carriage suddenly jolted forward as the horses strained to escape... something. Otto pitched forward, completely off the seat, and Eleanor flung herself aside to avoid him. He screamed in agony as she stepped on his foot, which had been hidden under a blanket. He fell onto the floor as she looked at the swollen mass of reddened flesh beyond his ankle. Disease of some kind was swelling and inflaming the tissues.

"You stupid cunt! You stepped on my foot!" Otto screeched, spraying spittle on himself. "Reg! Come in here!"

The driver set the brake and climbed down with the footman. The smaller of the two men went to calm the horses by standing before them. The carriage door opened, and a tall, gaunt man looked inside.

"Somethin' in the woods scares the horses," he said to Otto, looking over at Eleanor, running his eyes over her body hungrily.

"Take the bitch outside," Otto snapped, and before Eleanor could protest, large hands gripped her arms painfully and pulled her out the door. He seized one of her arms as they stood in the lantern's dim light.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

The driver smiled at her. "Mr. Hughes said if you refused to help him, we'd get to have fun with you." He leaned closer, his breath reeking of onions and stale beer. "I'm glad you refused."