Chapter 18
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Back in another hotel, in another room inhabited by a different couple gathered in London for a different event altogether, an event which in their ignorance had been postponed indefinitely times were a changing. Rosaline had never divulged her reason to marry the man her foster father called a brother though she very well knew he was not. Rosaline had borne him a child, an apparent heir to the Mornington Empire but with her father married this child stood to inherit nothing. She had often heard the rumours that accompanied her birth and believed her to be the illegitimate daughter of her foster father. He had defiled her mother and it was a painful truth to bear. But somehow Heinrich honouring her into the bond of marriage seemed more of an insult than any. Yes, he did the right by her, a right that her father had failed to do by her mother yet she could swear by her father's honour and not by her husband's. Locked in her room Rosaline was becoming desperate by the hour to break free of the imprisonment.
Every moment that she spent with Heinrich she felt wronged and abused. Was he not her choice for a husband? Did she not offer herself of her own accord to him? She seduced him and he was weak enough a man to be seduced by a girl fit to be his niece. She was ashamed at her choice and her husband's weakness. It was her fault. It was a fault in her character, an impurity of her blood created out of sin that had made her seduce him. That was at least her side of the story. She wondered how a woman of her age and innocence managed to tempt a man of such experience and expertise. Heinrich was an excellent lover and Rosaline knew well that she was not the only girl to fall for his charms. The other girls that swayed around him, however, had a questionable reputation in addition to a wanton character. Perhaps Heinrich was what she deserved as a husband. Rosaline may not have been happy with her position, she was content but the mother in her was not ready to let Heinrich set an example for her son.
That day soon after Heinrich had left on another visit to a woman of disrepute Rosaline called room service. She had been forbidden from doing so as the room was always locked from outside. The room service was convinced after a while that she had been accidentally locked in and they freed her. A married woman out of her husband's protection is always less of a free woman than a destitute. Rosaline clutched her child to her bosom and went out in search for a roof above her head that would not involve a man to question her past or her present.
At this point in time, Monique stood in a restaurant not far from Rosaline's hotel quarrelling with Henry, who had just returned about not informing her about her husband's involvement in the matter beforehand. Henry who was never introduced to her husband face to face or by name failed to explain properly that it was impossible for him to know who her husband happened to be. Frustrated with the logic of his words Monique rushed out of the hotel. A few blocks into her stomping feat she bumped into a young girl clutching on to a bundle. That young girl was Rosaline.
Without proper introduction, it was not possible to place Rosaline in a direct or indirect relationship with Rupert. While Rupert's eyes were blue hers were green. Where Rupert had copper brown curly hair Rosaline possessed straight blonde hair. While Rupert was pale Rosaline was olive skinned. The olive skin along with the blond hair made her look older than what she really was. Monique could sense the younger woman's distress from the way she ran through a crowded street with a baby in her arms. She almost felt sorry for the woman she did not know.
A few fumbling apologies later the two women sat in an ice cream parlour not far from the place they each had evacuated and sat to share stories of their predicament. Rosaline was a stranger to Monique and vice versa still they shared a common bond. The man who seemed like a monument of ideals had failed to live up to his expectation and in spite, they had chosen the man they had. What neither Rosaline nor Monique knew was that the man that Rose called father and Madeline called Bert was the same and was better known to the world as Rupert Mornington.
Monique decided to help the girl in distress and bought her ticket to California and handed over the keys to her own home. Rosaline was suspicious of the stranger's intentions but as with every human being out of options, she chose to trust humanity although her faith had been severed. Rosaline accepted the deed of charity and found her escape. Monique returned to the hotel where her own husband had confined her to a room that could not be called theirs yet which already was.
Freedom is always expensive and in searching for her Freedom Rosaline had apparently lost the roots that had defined her. For a nineteen-year-old girl, roots do not mean family. It means familiarity. Rosaline had to leave her friends and acquaintances behind her as she sought a new life for her and her child. The flight was scheduled for late night and Monique had been gracious enough to book a room for her stay in a less expensive hotel. A less expensive hotel meant somewhere Heinrich wouldn't expect the heir apparent of Phoenix International to be. Still Rosaline had one unfinished business left. She had to ask her father to stop making payments to Heinrich and she had to do that while maintaining her independence from him.
Rupert was not expecting a visitor after dinner. When there was a knock on the door his heart hoped somehow it would be his wife desiring his company. He was dressed to pay her a visit as it is. It was difficult to stay away from the woman who intrigued him on so many different levels. The woman who stood outside the door was, however, Madeline holding a basket.
The last time that he had met Rosaline he had seen her with copper brown hair and the innocence of youth. That is how he recognized her from the Madeline of his memory. But here stood the blonde and tired Madeline instead of the youthful and vivacious Rosaline and Rupert was lost for words. "Come in." He urged the suddenly grown-up daughter.
"I am not here to share pleasantries Father. I am here to tell you that I am no longer in the custody of Heinrich Monnet and nor is my son."
"Your son?"
"I am leaving your life and his and I hope you will respect my decision and please do not let him extort you for money."
"Do I not have a right to my own grandson?"
"You do but I would appreciate it if you allow me to give him a respectable life."
"I have something to show you."
"I don't want to see anything."
"It will make you hate me a bit less."
"I don't hate you, father. I am simply trying to find my own bearing. Now let me go."
"Do you promise to come back once you do find your bearing?"
"I do, father."
So saying, the face of the woman that Rupert loved with all his heart left his life once again. He remembered parting from Madeline. Madeline had always wanted him to be more of a man for her. She had fed at his protective instinct. He had always taken care of his near and dear ones. When Madeline's drunk father beat her up she leaned on him. Rupert did not have a place in the household just then to speak against the trusted employee that her father was. He helped her in the next best way he could, by making her the queen of his heart. Madeline lapped up the attention he showered on her. She was enamoured with all the gifts Rupert earned for her. He earned every penny of what he gave her through various odd jobs around the house till Mrs Mornington finally took him as an intern in her business. Rupert worked the job and studied in the evening and showered attention on his sweetheart in the dead of the night. Night has its own deadly venom that spreads itself through the tentacles of darkness. That darkness evaded Rupert's innocence and that of Madeline and Rosaline's unfortunate unborn sibling was conceived. Rupert never found out about the coming of his child. He only found out about Madeline's wedding from far off Switzerland. He never knew the situation and the circumstances. With Rosaline it was different. Yes, Rosaline was his own child in the strength of her resolve and her search for independence. She is the child fates conceived of him, for him.
Heinrich was during this time lying in the arms of a common mistress whom he had already made love to a few times and wished to ravage a few times more. The thought never crossed his mind that his wife lay tied up in a corner of his hotel room unable to eat or feed the infant child. That the wife had run away was a reality inconceivable to his clouded mind. He pulled his lover over his hardened body before pulling together her dyed hair in a fist. He liked to make his women cry and beg for mercy. It was too bad Rosaline never got on her knees.
The flight finally took off and Rosaline went to a strange land trusting a stranger. Rosaline wondered what bond tied two women separated by class and ethnicity to help one another. Truth was that if she had any way to help her Messiah she would. Perhaps she was indeed an angel of God sent for her own deliverance. Rosaline clutched on to her child snugly fitted in a bag around her as the flight took off. Her son was sleeping. She promised to make a better future for him at any cost.
Monique lay on her bed thinking about the man her husband became in Monique's presence. The difference was pronounced to her keen eyes that had seen him closely for the weeks they were trapped together in a house in India. There was almost a spark to Rupert that was missing in her presence. What would happen to the spark when her two identities merged into one before him? Would he find comfort and warmth in the discovery or would his warm body turn cold and indifferent at the realization? The possibility, of the latter, made Monique cringe, in fear! She wanted a companion for life not a relationship for seven incarnations of her damned soul.
It was then the knock on the door came and like clockwork, her husband stood outside, a bunch of roses in his hand and lust filled in his eyes. Shimonthini passed off that lust as conviction rather than desire and chose to torment herself. However, her denial did not change the truth of what turn their relationship had already taken.
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Back in another hotel, in another room inhabited by a different couple gathered in London for a different event altogether, an event which in their ignorance had been postponed indefinitely times were a changing. Rosaline had never divulged her reason to marry the man her foster father called a brother though she very well knew he was not. Rosaline had borne him a child, an apparent heir to the Mornington Empire but with her father married this child stood to inherit nothing. She had often heard the rumours that accompanied her birth and believed her to be the illegitimate daughter of her foster father. He had defiled her mother and it was a painful truth to bear. But somehow Heinrich honouring her into the bond of marriage seemed more of an insult than any. Yes, he did the right by her, a right that her father had failed to do by her mother yet she could swear by her father's honour and not by her husband's. Locked in her room Rosaline was becoming desperate by the hour to break free of the imprisonment.
Every moment that she spent with Heinrich she felt wronged and abused. Was he not her choice for a husband? Did she not offer herself of her own accord to him? She seduced him and he was weak enough a man to be seduced by a girl fit to be his niece. She was ashamed at her choice and her husband's weakness. It was her fault. It was a fault in her character, an impurity of her blood created out of sin that had made her seduce him. That was at least her side of the story. She wondered how a woman of her age and innocence managed to tempt a man of such experience and expertise. Heinrich was an excellent lover and Rosaline knew well that she was not the only girl to fall for his charms. The other girls that swayed around him, however, had a questionable reputation in addition to a wanton character. Perhaps Heinrich was what she deserved as a husband. Rosaline may not have been happy with her position, she was content but the mother in her was not ready to let Heinrich set an example for her son.
That day soon after Heinrich had left on another visit to a woman of disrepute Rosaline called room service. She had been forbidden from doing so as the room was always locked from outside. The room service was convinced after a while that she had been accidentally locked in and they freed her. A married woman out of her husband's protection is always less of a free woman than a destitute. Rosaline clutched her child to her bosom and went out in search for a roof above her head that would not involve a man to question her past or her present.
At this point in time, Monique stood in a restaurant not far from Rosaline's hotel quarrelling with Henry, who had just returned about not informing her about her husband's involvement in the matter beforehand. Henry who was never introduced to her husband face to face or by name failed to explain properly that it was impossible for him to know who her husband happened to be. Frustrated with the logic of his words Monique rushed out of the hotel. A few blocks into her stomping feat she bumped into a young girl clutching on to a bundle. That young girl was Rosaline.
Without proper introduction, it was not possible to place Rosaline in a direct or indirect relationship with Rupert. While Rupert's eyes were blue hers were green. Where Rupert had copper brown curly hair Rosaline possessed straight blonde hair. While Rupert was pale Rosaline was olive skinned. The olive skin along with the blond hair made her look older than what she really was. Monique could sense the younger woman's distress from the way she ran through a crowded street with a baby in her arms. She almost felt sorry for the woman she did not know.
A few fumbling apologies later the two women sat in an ice cream parlour not far from the place they each had evacuated and sat to share stories of their predicament. Rosaline was a stranger to Monique and vice versa still they shared a common bond. The man who seemed like a monument of ideals had failed to live up to his expectation and in spite, they had chosen the man they had. What neither Rosaline nor Monique knew was that the man that Rose called father and Madeline called Bert was the same and was better known to the world as Rupert Mornington.
Monique decided to help the girl in distress and bought her ticket to California and handed over the keys to her own home. Rosaline was suspicious of the stranger's intentions but as with every human being out of options, she chose to trust humanity although her faith had been severed. Rosaline accepted the deed of charity and found her escape. Monique returned to the hotel where her own husband had confined her to a room that could not be called theirs yet which already was.
Freedom is always expensive and in searching for her Freedom Rosaline had apparently lost the roots that had defined her. For a nineteen-year-old girl, roots do not mean family. It means familiarity. Rosaline had to leave her friends and acquaintances behind her as she sought a new life for her and her child. The flight was scheduled for late night and Monique had been gracious enough to book a room for her stay in a less expensive hotel. A less expensive hotel meant somewhere Heinrich wouldn't expect the heir apparent of Phoenix International to be. Still Rosaline had one unfinished business left. She had to ask her father to stop making payments to Heinrich and she had to do that while maintaining her independence from him.
Rupert was not expecting a visitor after dinner. When there was a knock on the door his heart hoped somehow it would be his wife desiring his company. He was dressed to pay her a visit as it is. It was difficult to stay away from the woman who intrigued him on so many different levels. The woman who stood outside the door was, however, Madeline holding a basket.
The last time that he had met Rosaline he had seen her with copper brown hair and the innocence of youth. That is how he recognized her from the Madeline of his memory. But here stood the blonde and tired Madeline instead of the youthful and vivacious Rosaline and Rupert was lost for words. "Come in." He urged the suddenly grown-up daughter.
"I am not here to share pleasantries Father. I am here to tell you that I am no longer in the custody of Heinrich Monnet and nor is my son."
"Your son?"
"I am leaving your life and his and I hope you will respect my decision and please do not let him extort you for money."
"Do I not have a right to my own grandson?"
"You do but I would appreciate it if you allow me to give him a respectable life."
"I have something to show you."
"I don't want to see anything."
"It will make you hate me a bit less."
"I don't hate you, father. I am simply trying to find my own bearing. Now let me go."
"Do you promise to come back once you do find your bearing?"
"I do, father."
So saying, the face of the woman that Rupert loved with all his heart left his life once again. He remembered parting from Madeline. Madeline had always wanted him to be more of a man for her. She had fed at his protective instinct. He had always taken care of his near and dear ones. When Madeline's drunk father beat her up she leaned on him. Rupert did not have a place in the household just then to speak against the trusted employee that her father was. He helped her in the next best way he could, by making her the queen of his heart. Madeline lapped up the attention he showered on her. She was enamoured with all the gifts Rupert earned for her. He earned every penny of what he gave her through various odd jobs around the house till Mrs Mornington finally took him as an intern in her business. Rupert worked the job and studied in the evening and showered attention on his sweetheart in the dead of the night. Night has its own deadly venom that spreads itself through the tentacles of darkness. That darkness evaded Rupert's innocence and that of Madeline and Rosaline's unfortunate unborn sibling was conceived. Rupert never found out about the coming of his child. He only found out about Madeline's wedding from far off Switzerland. He never knew the situation and the circumstances. With Rosaline it was different. Yes, Rosaline was his own child in the strength of her resolve and her search for independence. She is the child fates conceived of him, for him.
Heinrich was during this time lying in the arms of a common mistress whom he had already made love to a few times and wished to ravage a few times more. The thought never crossed his mind that his wife lay tied up in a corner of his hotel room unable to eat or feed the infant child. That the wife had run away was a reality inconceivable to his clouded mind. He pulled his lover over his hardened body before pulling together her dyed hair in a fist. He liked to make his women cry and beg for mercy. It was too bad Rosaline never got on her knees.
The flight finally took off and Rosaline went to a strange land trusting a stranger. Rosaline wondered what bond tied two women separated by class and ethnicity to help one another. Truth was that if she had any way to help her Messiah she would. Perhaps she was indeed an angel of God sent for her own deliverance. Rosaline clutched on to her child snugly fitted in a bag around her as the flight took off. Her son was sleeping. She promised to make a better future for him at any cost.
Monique lay on her bed thinking about the man her husband became in Monique's presence. The difference was pronounced to her keen eyes that had seen him closely for the weeks they were trapped together in a house in India. There was almost a spark to Rupert that was missing in her presence. What would happen to the spark when her two identities merged into one before him? Would he find comfort and warmth in the discovery or would his warm body turn cold and indifferent at the realization? The possibility, of the latter, made Monique cringe, in fear! She wanted a companion for life not a relationship for seven incarnations of her damned soul.
It was then the knock on the door came and like clockwork, her husband stood outside, a bunch of roses in his hand and lust filled in his eyes. Shimonthini passed off that lust as conviction rather than desire and chose to torment herself. However, her denial did not change the truth of what turn their relationship had already taken.
Back in another hotel, in another room inhabited by a different couple gathered in London for a different event altogether, an event which in their ignorance had been postponed indefinitely times were a changing. Rosaline had never divulged her reason to marry the man her foster father called a brother though she very well knew he was not. Rosaline had borne him a child, an apparent heir to the Mornington Empire but with her father married this child stood to inherit nothing. She had often heard the rumours that accompanied her birth and believed her to be the illegitimate daughter of her foster father. He had defiled her mother and it was a painful truth to bear. But somehow Heinrich honouring her into the bond of marriage seemed more of an insult than any. Yes, he did the right by her, a right that her father had failed to do by her mother yet she could swear by her father's honour and not by her husband's. Locked in her room Rosaline was becoming desperate by the hour to break free of the imprisonment.Every moment that she spent with Heinrich she felt wronged and abused. Was he not her choice for a husband? Did she not offer herself of her own accord to him? She seduced him and he was weak enough a man to be seduced by a girl fit to be his niece. She was ashamed at her choice and her husband's weakness. It was her fault. It was a fault in her character, an impurity of her blood created out of sin that had made her seduce him. That was at least her side of the story. She wondered how a woman of her age and innocence managed to tempt a man of such experience and expertise. Heinrich was an excellent lover and Rosaline knew well that she was not the only girl to fall for his charms. The other girls that swayed around him, however, had a questionable reputation in addition to a wanton character. Perhaps Heinrich was what she deserved as a husband. Rosaline may not have been happy with her position, she was content but the mother in her was not ready to let Heinrich set an example for her son.That day soon after Heinrich had left on another visit to a woman of disrepute Rosaline called room service. She had been forbidden from doing so as the room was always locked from outside. The room service was convinced after a while that she had been accidentally locked in and they freed her. A married woman out of her husband's protection is always less of a free woman than a destitute. Rosaline clutched her child to her bosom and went out in search for a roof above her head that would not involve a man to question her past or her present.At this point in time, Monique stood in a restaurant not far from Rosaline's hotel quarrelling with Henry, who had just returned about not informing her about her husband's involvement in the matter beforehand. Henry who was never introduced to her husband face to face or by name failed to explain properly that it was impossible for him to know who her husband happened to be. Frustrated with the logic of his words Monique rushed out of the hotel. A few blocks into her stomping feat she bumped into a young girl clutching on to a bundle. That young girl was Rosaline.Without proper introduction, it was not possible to place Rosaline in a direct or indirect relationship with Rupert. While Rupert's eyes were blue hers were green. Where Rupert had copper brown curly hair Rosaline possessed straight blonde hair. While Rupert was pale Rosaline was olive skinned. The olive skin along with the blond hair made her look older than what she really was. Monique could sense the younger woman's distress from the way she ran through a crowded street with a baby in her arms. She almost felt sorry for the woman she did not know.A few fumbling apologies later the two women sat in an ice cream parlour not far from the place they each had evacuated and sat to share stories of their predicament. Rosaline was a stranger to Monique and vice versa still they shared a common bond. The man who seemed like a monument of ideals had failed to live up to his expectation and in spite, they had chosen the man they had. What neither Rosaline nor Monique knew was that the man that Rose called father and Madeline called Bert was the same and was better known to the world as Rupert Mornington.Monique decided to help the girl in distress and bought her ticket to California and handed over the keys to her own home. Rosaline was suspicious of the stranger's intentions but as with every human being out of options, she chose to trust humanity although her faith had been severed. Rosaline accepted the deed of charity and found her escape. Monique returned to the hotel where her own husband had confined her to a room that could not be called theirs yet which already was.Freedom is always expensive and in searching for her Freedom Rosaline had apparently lost the roots that had defined her. For a nineteen-year-old girl, roots do not mean family. It means familiarity. Rosaline had to leave her friends and acquaintances behind her as she sought a new life for her and her child. The flight was scheduled for late night and Monique had been gracious enough to book a room for her stay in a less expensive hotel. A less expensive hotel meant somewhere Heinrich wouldn't expect the heir apparent of Phoenix International to be. Still Rosaline had one unfinished business left. She had to ask her father to stop making payments to Heinrich and she had to do that while maintaining her independence from him.Rupert was not expecting a visitor after dinner. When there was a knock on the door his heart hoped somehow it would be his wife desiring his company. He was dressed to pay her a visit as it is. It was difficult to stay away from the woman who intrigued him on so many different levels. The woman who stood outside the door was, however, Madeline holding a basket.The last time that he had met Rosaline he had seen her with copper brown hair and the innocence of youth. That is how he recognized her from the Madeline of his memory. But here stood the blonde and tired Madeline instead of the youthful and vivacious Rosaline and Rupert was lost for words. "Come in." He urged the suddenly grown-up daughter."I am not here to share pleasantries Father. I am here to tell you that I am no longer in the custody of Heinrich Monnet and nor is my son.""Your son?""I am leaving your life and his and I hope you will respect my decision and please do not let him extort you for money.""Do I not have a right to my own grandson?""You do but I would appreciate it if you allow me to give him a respectable life.""I have something to show you.""I don't want to see anything.""It will make you hate me a bit less.""I don't hate you, father. I am simply trying to find my own bearing. Now let me go.""Do you promise to come back once you do find your bearing?""I do, father."So saying, the face of the woman that Rupert loved with all his heart left his life once again. He remembered parting from Madeline. Madeline had always wanted him to be more of a man for her. She had fed at his protective instinct. He had always taken care of his near and dear ones. When Madeline's drunk father beat her up she leaned on him. Rupert did not have a place in the household just then to speak against the trusted employee that her father was. He helped her in the next best way he could, by making her the queen of his heart. Madeline lapped up the attention he showered on her. She was enamoured with all the gifts Rupert earned for her. He earned every penny of what he gave her through various odd jobs around the house till Mrs Mornington finally took him as an intern in her business. Rupert worked the job and studied in the evening and showered attention on his sweetheart in the dead of the night. Night has its own deadly venom that spreads itself through the tentacles of darkness. That darkness evaded Rupert's innocence and that of Madeline and Rosaline's unfortunate unborn sibling was conceived. Rupert never found out about the coming of his child. He only found out about Madeline's wedding from far off Switzerland. He never knew the situation and the circumstances. With Rosaline it was different. Yes, Rosaline was his own child in the strength of her resolve and her search for independence. She is the child fates conceived of him, for him.Heinrich was during this time lying in the arms of a common mistress whom he had already made love to a few times and wished to ravage a few times more. The thought never crossed his mind that his wife lay tied up in a corner of his hotel room unable to eat or feed the infant child. That the wife had run away was a reality inconceivable to his clouded mind. He pulled his lover over his hardened body before pulling together her dyed hair in a fist. He liked to make his women cry and beg for mercy. It was too bad Rosaline never got on her knees.The flight finally took off and Rosaline went to a strange land trusting a stranger. Rosaline wondered what bond tied two women separated by class and ethnicity to help one another. Truth was that if she had any way to help her Messiah she would. Perhaps she was indeed an angel of God sent for her own deliverance. Rosaline clutched on to her child snugly fitted in a bag around her as the flight took off. Her son was sleeping. She promised to make a better future for him at any cost.Monique lay on her bed thinking about the man her husband became in Monique's presence. The difference was pronounced to her keen eyes that had seen him closely for the weeks they were trapped together in a house in India. There was almost a spark to Rupert that was missing in her presence. What would happen to the spark when her two identities merged into one before him? Would he find comfort and warmth in the discovery or would his warm body turn cold and indifferent at the realization? The possibility, of the latter, made Monique cringe, in fear! She wanted a companion for life not a relationship for seven incarnations of her damned soul.It was then the knock on the door came and like clockwork, her husband stood outside, a bunch of roses in his hand and lust filled in his eyes. Shimonthini passed off that lust as conviction rather than desire and chose to torment herself. However, her denial did not change the truth of what turn their relationship had already taken.
