Chapter Five:

Crime and Punishment

(Important Note: Take this chapter with a grain of salt please. I promise that the events of the chapter will be explained in a later chapter and that I do realize that this chapter isn't the best. This was my first ever novel, and there will be mistakes. Some events in this chapter are among them.)

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"You did what?"

"I gave them the idea," Clara said, ignoring the two pairs of small hands tugging on her skirts. "I was upset with how you treated Mrs. Landon yesterday so I encouraged them to plan the prank. It was completely my idea."

"Your idea?" Linette growled, seeming to buy Clara's lie. "Ungrateful little fool, have you no respect for your betters?" Clara set her mouth into a firm line. While everything in her told her she should just let it go, part of her didn't want to, and it was almost like an out of body experience when she said the words exactly on her mind.

"You are not my better. When my mother died the title of Lady was passed to me. You didn't get the title when you married my father because, legally, as per my parents wishes, it went to me." Clara clapped her hand over her mouth as soon as the last words left her lips. She had not meant to say that! Any of that! The other occupants in the room stared at Clara in shock and Linette's green eyes lit with fury.

"I have had enough of you and your siblings," Linette growled, lurching forward to grab hold of Clara's arms. Both Harriet and Amelia cried out as Linette dragged Clara from the room by her elbow. As they moved out of the parlor, Clara could feel Linette's hand tightening on her arm. Linette's fingernails were like talons, and it seemed as if they would pierce through the fabric of Clara's yellow dress.

"Where are we going?" Clara asked, not even attempting to struggle against her stepmother.

"The attic. Now be quiet," Linette demanded continuing to hurry Clara along. They had reached the attic door when suddenly, Linette came to a stop, throwing her other hand into a pocket on her gown and pulling out a key.

"The attic is never locked-" Clara protested, when Linette whipped open the door and, with no warning, pushed Clara through the dark doorway. Clara tripped over her own feet and she threw her hands out in front of her to stop her fall when suddenly the door slammed behind her loudly, leaving her in the pitch black of the attic stairway.

"You'll be let out once you have sufficiently payed for your actions!" Linette screeched through the door. Clara hurriedly jumped to her feet, stumbling in the dark, and banged her hands onto the wood.

"How long will that be?" Clara shouted back, her fists pounding on the door.

"However long I feel it should be!" Clara's stepmother answered. Clara listened to the tap of Linette's shoes moving down the hallway until all she could hear was her own breathing. The darkness of the attic was unsettling in the worst of ways. She could hear the scratching of animals moving around on the floorboards up the attic stairs and she didn't dare move. What if they were mice? Or worse, rats?

As her eyes began to adjust Clara could just start to make out the shape of some of the objects in the attic. What caught her attention the most, however, was that somewhere in the back of the attic there was a source of light. It was dim and she couldn't pinpoint exactly where the light was landing but she knew unless she wanted to spend the whole time cowering in fear by the door, she'd have to figure out where it was coming from.

Clara moved carefully up the steps, her arms out in front of her, as she tried to navigate the attic with only the extremely limited light to guide her. The clattering of little claws on wood got her attention as she shuffled forward, but she tried not to think about it too much.

They were just mice, harmless little mice, they wouldn't hurt her.

At least she hoped they wouldn't.

She was almost to the light when suddenly her foot caught on a floorboard and she went flying to the ground. A small something scurried over her hand, and she did her best to hold back a scream.

She scrambled to her feet in a hurry, rushing forward the last few steps. She brought her hand out in front of her and her fingers brushed against jagged splinters of what she figured was dust covered and grimy wood. Feeling along for the bottom edge of the piece of wood, she finally found it, and curling her hands around it, she gave it a tug. It didn't budge.

She tried again, but all that earned her was the slight groaning noise of the wood. Clara huffed out a breath and with a sharp jerk, she threw her weight in the opposite direction, hoping to make up for her lack of strength.

A loud snap rang through the attic, and Clara found herself on the floor blinking hazily from the bright sunlight coming from the uncovered part of the window. With the board gone she could now see the attic completely and her breathing gave a stutter when she recognized a lot of the furniture. It was all of it, her mother's.

She got to her feet as gracefully as possible, ignoring the lump in her throat as she went up to a large oak chest that had always stood at the foot of her parents' bed. Forgetting the mice and the grime, she kneeled before the chest, brushing some of the dust off of the lid. Clara reached forwards and unlatched the lid, pushing the chest open gently.

Her eyes began to water as she saw what was inside. Wrapped in white linens and carefully folded just so, were her mother's dresses, every single one of them. She wiped her fingers on her dress, not caring that her fingers left behind grey smudges.

Clara touched the front of one of the dresses, a part of her waiting for it to disintegrate into dust and fragments, but it didn't. It was lavender, and the silk was just as smooth as the day her mother first wore it.

Settling back on her heels, Clara was lost in her own mind, her thoughts taken over by images of her mother. Her mother laughing as she danced Clara around the parlor, her mother smiling as she carefully crafted a flower crown for Harriet, her mother's eyes shining as she watched her family. Clara's mother, Katherine, was everything Linette was not. Katherine had smiled where Linette scowled, Katherine bantered with Clara's father while Linette simpered.

As Clara remembered her mother she couldn't help but feel her own heart constricting. How could her father marry someone like Linette? How could he be with someone so different from Clara's mother? What made him wish to marry a woman who had nothing but criticism for his house, his staff, and his family?

Still clutching the lavender gown, Clara collapsed onto the dirt strewn floor, the tears she had been holding back since before Linette arrived finally present in her eyes.

Clara had wanted to give Linette a chance, she had wanted to have the opportunity to form a bond with her new stepmother, but now she saw clearly the fruitlessness of that wish. Now that the disagreement between Harriet and Linette had finally burst out of proportion, Clara knew that there was very little hope in the idea that Linette and the Corden sisters would ever get along.

Suddenly, a loud knocking came from on the far side of the attic, and Clara hurriedly placed the gown back where it belonged and shut the lid of the chest. She dashed haphazardly towards the door, stepping around numerous different pieces of furniture. As she reached the door, whoever was on the other side knocked again, quieter this time.

"Who's there?" She called.

"Clara, it's us!" Her sister answered. "Me and Amelia were able to get away from the step-witch."

"Harriet, if you and Amelia get caught talking to me I won't be able to help you! You need to go back to your room or find Mrs. Landon, she'll help you," Clara said trying to urge her sister to listen.

"We'll be careful. Are you okay, Clara? I'm so sorry, I didn't want you to get in trouble!" Harriet cried, and Clara slumped against the wall.

"I'm alright. Just stay out of the way of Linette and try not to upset her further," Clara responded, leaning her head on the wood. "Don't worry about me, Harriet, I know you didn't want this to happen."

"But it's all my fault! If I just didn't get upset and-"

"What, let her bully you? Let her be mean to Mrs. Landon? No, Harriet, you had every right to be upset with her, don't apologise for that. Maybe how you went about dealing with your feelings was wrong, but having those feelings is not something to apologise for."

"But, Clara! She said she would keep you in the attic for more than a day! Without food!" This caused Clara to pause. So that was how long she'd have to stay in the attic.

"I'll be fine, Harriet."

"You don't know that! You might starve!"

"Harriet, it takes longer than a day to starve someone."

"Maybe Mrs. Landon can do something, or Father? What if we went to him for help-"

"No! Don't go to Father," Clara cut in, her words coming out sharper than she had intended. She closed her eyes with a tired sigh. "Father won't help. You can't put him in the position of having to choose between us and Linette, it won't turn out well."

"But-"

"Please, Harriet, don't go to Father. Promise me you won't."

"I promise." It was quiet for a moment when all of a sudden Harriet began to speak hurriedly. "We have to go, I think I hear the step-witch's shoes!" Harriet said and Clara quickly backed up from the door, rushing up the stairs.

Clara threw a sheet over her mother's chest, and sat down gingerly onto it just as the attic door burst open. The sound of shoes tapping was followed by the appearance of her stepmother. Clara was expecting a scowl or at least a sneer but all that was present on Linette's face was a smile, a toothy smile that made Clara's stomach start to churn.

"Clara, dear, how are you liking your new room?" Linette said, looking around the attic with her nose turned up. "You see, your father and I have come to an agreement. After your punishment is over you will move your things here! Isn't that wonderful? Edina will finally get her own room."

"I will stay here? But there's mice!"

"Oh that's a pity, I suppose you'll just have to figure something out then. I'm sure they just live in the walls," Linette said, her smile widening ever so slightly as Clara's stomach sunk to new lows. Linette had known about the bugs. "Once you are out of the attic, in, oh I don't know, one maybe two days, your father and I have a wonderful surprise for you!"

"What is it?" Clara asked, her voice betraying her feeling of uncertainty and dread.

"It would hardly be a surprise if I were to tell you in advance now, would it? Don't worry, it's been highly anticipated," Linette said, not sounding at all reassuring. "Well, I'll leave you for now, oh I almost forgot!" She exclaimed, bringing out a single slim candle and two matches. "Don't want you being left all alone in the dark tonight."

With that, Linette placed the candle and matches on the floor and turned and swept off down the stairs, slamming the attic door behind her. Clara was still, staring at the candle and matches, wondering what Linette had meant. A highly anticipated surprise? Anticipated by who? Clara had a feeling it wasn't from her.

Getting up and reaching down for the candle, Clara turned around to look at her new room. Glancing at the window, she guessed that there was at least a few hours left of daylight before the night would start to creep in.

"I guess I better get started," she muttered, before starting to clean up and clear the attic. With any luck it would be fit to be lived in once she was done. For hours she worked, trying to ignore the gnawing in her stomach caused by hunger. By the time it was dusk, the attic had been organized and she had started to fashion herself a bed made out of old crates and threadbare blankets. Stepping back to admire her handy work, she let out a sigh, it would have to do.

She settled herself onto her makeshift bed, placing a hand on her abdomen when her stomach growled loudly. It looked like Harriet had been right about the whole without food bit of her punishment.

Soon the sky was an inky black, but Clara did her best to last without lighting the candle. Her stomach ached, and as the night moved on she could hear the scampering of mice around her, but eventually she fell into an unsettled sleep. When she woke up the next morning, the sun was streaming through the window which she had uncovered the day before, and there was no mice in sight.

Clara absentmindedly wondered what time it was as she stretched, her back sore from sleeping on the crates all night. She spent the rest of the day cleaning until finally she just sat down with one of the musty old books she had found in one of the boxes, too tired and hungry to do much else. She had just reached the fifth chapter when the attic door burst open.

"Clara, your father and stepmother require your presence in the parlor." It was Mrs. Landon, and Clara did her best not to show how ill she actually felt as she got up from one of the crates.

"Do you know what they want?"

"No, but it's best that you hurry," Mrs. Landon said, ushering Clara down the stairs and into the hallway. "Once you are done speaking with them, I have some food for you in the kitchen," she whispered in Clara's ear, and Clara nodded.

Clara made her way down the main stairway, her legs trembling as she walked. When she finally reached the parlor she was unsurprised to see Linette and her father sharing the couch, but she had not expected to see a third person. Glancing at the man, she recognized him as her father's lawyer, Mr. Denning. The last time she had seen him had been at her mother's funeral.

"Clara, please take a seat," her father said, and Clara sat herself down in the wooden chair that he had pointed to. It was strange, it was normally in the kitchen.

"Miss Corden, wonderful to see you," Mr. Denning said, his voice his usual monotone. "How have you been?"

"Yes, yes, she's fine," Linette said, taking over the conversation before Clara could answer the question. "Clara, we have called you here today for the little surprise I talked to you about yesterday."

"Mr. Denning is here with some papers for me and Linette to sign," her father said, his lined face smiling. "I was so pleased to hear that you offered to give your title with Linette. It means so much to me to know you are both getting along and bonding. I knew this would be good for you."

Clara tried to contain her shock. She had not offered to give anything with Linette! She moved her eyes to meet Linette's and in that moment she knew. Linette hadn't told her father about Harriet's prank, or how Clara had been disrespectful with her words. She'd told him the exact opposite, and now Clara couldn't say anything without directly disagreeing with whatever it was her stepmother had told her father."Yes, I am glad as well," she answered, unsure of what she was supposed to say, figuring it was best to simply lie.

"I have the papers right here, Lord Corden." Mr. Denning handed the papers to her father who swiftly signed them before handing them to Linette. Linette's eyes flashed up to Clara's, before she placed the tip of the quill to the top paper and signed it with an exaggerated flourish.

"Good, good, I trust everything is in order then?"

"Indeed, Lord Corden. Lord and Lady Corden, Miss Corden, do have a good day." With that Mr. Denning stood up and gave a stiff bow, before walking out of the parlor. He was followed by Clara's father, leaving Linette and Clara alone.

"That was so kind of you to offer me the title like that," Linette said, her grin sharkish in appearance.

"I never offered you the title."

"It looks like you did," Linette stated, looking down at her fingernails before moving her eyes back to Clara's. "You'd best go up to your room, or rather, Edina's. You will need to be up and out before the end of the afternoon." Clara didn't move. "Well, what are you waiting for? Chop, chop!"

Clara stumbled to her feet, giving Linette a single withering glare, before dashing out of the parlor and up the stairs to her room. As she flung open the door, there was a loud squeal and Clara came to an abrupt stop in her doorway.

"Oh good, you're back. I needed to put my dresses in the wardrobe, so do hurry up and get yours off the floor," Edina said, pointing to the mess of Clara's gowns laying on the ground. "I also need you to move your books, there's no room on here for my make-up!" Clara walked forward, scooping up a box and sweeping all of her books into it. With one arm she grabbed up her dresses, while the other held the box of books.

"You're all done, wonderful! That's all I needed! You can go back to the attic now, I mean your room," Edina said, raising a single eyebrow at Clara and motioning with a pale hand towards the door. Clara blinked and then rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind her just as the first of her tears finally made an appearance.

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To all of those who have made it this far: Please know that I do realize the mistakes I have made with this draft. Yes, I know Linette is unrelatable, unrealistic, and over the top. As are a few other characters. I know. I've tried to fix it many times (as readers from 2016-2017 could probably tell you), however, please do not take this to represent how my writing is now. It's been over two years since I wrote this book, and believe it or not, I have gotten better.

Anyway, thanks for sticking with it this far. I appreciate it.