Chapter Ten
William woke up delirious with want, Lady Claudia’s unclad forms before his eyes, his hot palm rapidly, expertly working his swollen manhood towards his release.
He let go of himself as though scalded and turned on his side, starved and uncomfortable.
He shouldn’t indulge in those fantasies. His imagination always had a way of getting the better of him, entangling him in his dreams, becoming indistinguishable from reality. He didn’t want to fantasise about her. To lust about her. To hope about her…
But that husky voice, those ravenous lips…
He trailed his fingers lightly on his shaft, groaning.
Well, since he was so reluctant to let go of an extremely dangerous fancy, maybe he should dream it to its end. Past the moment where she wildly ravished his body and got herself off riding his engorged member. Past the moment when his seed dripped hot and sinful from her thighs. Yes, he should dream it all, to the awkward silence after they both reached their release. And if there was no awkward silence, if she curled up all soft and warm and scented in his arms, his face buried in her hair, then he should follow that fantasy to its actual end. To the point where she kept on being mischievous, and caring, and interesting and maddeningly arousing. And he started thinking that actually it may just be quite nice to see where it would all go, only to realise that he was nothing to her, just a pretty thing to adorn her bed. Women like her only ever wanted one thing from him. Hell, there were even bets about who would bed him first in Rome! Not that she was the kind to bet over such things, but she had said quite clearly that a kiss didn’t mean a thing to her. But it meant something to him !
The first time he had seen her, when he had punched His Grace’s nose, he had been intrigued. The second time, at Iris’s wedding, he had been starstruck. The third time, at the ball at the Antiquarians’ Club, she had turned his head. And he , who had never desired a woman in his life, had asked her to kiss him. Her majesty, her humour, her beauty would have been enough to mess with a man, but he was intrigued about so much more. The way he felt seen and heard, accepted , when he was around her. The way she looked away every now and then, remote and furious, making him want to discover all her secrets. But most worryingly of all, it was so easy and natural to be around her, like it had never been with anyone else. It felt natural to desire her and be desired.
It was dangerous. If he was already in this state right now, in a couple of weeks he would be crawling at her feet begging her not to travel back to England. At which point she would bed him, bleed him dry, and discard him, because he did not belong in her world.
Raw hopelessness flooded his heart, thick and gooey like spoilt ink, so unadulterated that a drop could have killed a weaker man. But he was used to it. He was used not to hope.
There you have it, William. How about fantasising about that?
He got out of bed, shaken.
He should focus on the things that mattered. His plan. His life. Yesterday afternoon, at the villa on the Pincio Hill, he had sifted through another huge crate of artefacts that had just been excavated. It was time to dive into Caiani’s folder.
***
Claudia was awakened by a dull, pulsating need. In the devastation Edward had left in his trail, her desire was flourishing out of scorched earth, a stubborn, delicate blossom blooming against all odds. Fragments of thoughts brushed against her skin like Mr Campbell’s gentle hands. He had not been repulsed by her desires. He had not found them untoward. He had been maddeningly aroused by her.
Her hands glided on her breasts, on her belly, as she imagined his feather-light touch on her. She parted her folds, finding herself slick and needy, so sensitive. He would apply his tongue to her most delicate parts, denying her release, keeping her on the edge of the cliff…
It wasn’t long before she was exhaling slowly, smiling, warm and drowsy in the afterglow of her release. The bedsheets brushed against her sensitive nipples and she twitched a little, biting her lip as though to steady herself.
She curled up on one side.
Yes, I would like that very much.
I like him very much.
There was something childish to that thought, but in the best possible way. It was soft, fresh, and exquisitely uncomplicated, and unlike most of her thoughts it did not make her fists ball up and her teeth grit. Although Mr Campbell had made it very clear that they should not cross that line again, what they had done had been a gift. It had made her feel wanted and appreciated and desired as herself , not as the one-dimensional, saintly woman that everyone else saw in her.
I do like him. Oh, I do rather like him.
She had brought that thought with her as she had headed out with Betty towards the Caffè Greco . Her fascination with Mr Campbell was a little innocent secret that made her a little brighter, a little livelier than everyone else around.
Betty began giggling uncontrollably.
‘Look, my lady. Viscount Malombra’s wife made it to the Gazette Internationale again . ’
‘Oh dear. What did she do this time?’
She skimmed the column. It was heavily implied that there had been a whip, a stable, and an Englishman involved. She burst into laughter. The other customers turned and curled their noses, which made her laugh even more.
‘You shouldn’t read these things, Betty.’ She closed the Gazette . ‘They are not edifying. Especially at your age. What happened to the books I gave you?’
‘I am going through them in my own time, my lady.’
Betty cast a distracted glance over her shoulder. She paled so quickly that Claudia worried she was about to faint.
‘Betty?’
‘My lady—’
A shadow obscured the sun. Claudia looked up, squinting.
And there he was, again.
His jet-black eyes were intense and stern. His thin lips were twisted in aristocratic disgust.
Just like that night.
Edward.
***
William slumped in his chair and wiped a hand on his face. His desire was not diminishing. He should get a grip. There was too much at stake. He owned it to himself not to lose focus on what really mattered. For the sake of all the sacrifices he had made in his life, of all the humiliations he had suffered.
Prove that this is Claudia Cornelia’s treasure, and all you’ve ever wanted will be yours.
It was with real fury that he slammed Caiani’s folder open. It began with a list of supposed artefacts sighted at supposed times in the supposed treasure. What an honour, it was compiled in Caiani’s own hand, thick and heavy. He almost felt Caiani’s craving for the treasure raging at him from the paper. He wanted to bark back at it to be quiet, because he could barely handle his own need.
So, what was in the supposed treasure, then?
A marble statuette of the goddess Juno
Earrings encrusted with emeralds
Claudia’s breasts—they had felt so soft against his chest. They must be so sensitive, oh, so sensitive!
Lucius Cornelius’s parade helmet
Her thighs clenched around his legs—muscular, firm, made for the sort of vigorous lovemaking that would have shattered a more virile man than him.
Lucius Cornelius’s breastplate
Several armbands and bracelets
The things he had not done. Kneeling at her feet and pulling her stockings down with his teeth. Tasting a woman for the first time.
Two nuptial rings engraved with doves
Goblets and dishes from Cassius and Claudia Cornelia’s nuptial banquet. The rim is decorated with two interwoven ‘C’s.
Cold sweat.
The rim of that goblet was imprinted in his mind, with Claudia’s fingers trailing on it. It was decorated with semi-circles, like all the other goblets and dishes. Unless they were not semicircles…but two interwoven initials.
It cannot be…it cannot be…
His breath went shallow. It was akin to panic. He shouldn’t delude himself. It was all a legend.
He read on.
Claudia Cornelia had bracelets and necklaces made for the wedding day, in the shape of mating snakes.
And there was more. More descriptions of jewels, of rings, of coins and statuettes. He had seen it all. It was all there. Unless someone had bothered to make a forgery and hide it in the Earl’s garden, this—this meant—
He had Claudia Cornelia’s treasure in his hands.
He heard himself laugh.
No, cackle, loud, senselessly, mirthlessly, so hard his throat ached.
So hard it almost felt like crying.
***
‘Not running away this time, my dear?’
Edward’s voice, crisp and unctuous, sliced through the sunny air like a knife tearing a canvas.
A scream grew within her, louder and louder and louder until she could not make out what he was saying, and he was sitting at her table without even waiting for her to offer, because it had always been like that, it had always been his rules, his opinions, his commands!
He glared at her, proud and severe like the bust of a Roman senator come to life. Or maybe the bust of a Roman senator full stop. There was no heart in his chest. Only cruelty, rattling within his body like gravel in a dead man’s skull.
‘I am pleased to find you so well, my dear. It has been a year, I believe?’
She swallowed, she looked around, she could not wrap her head around this monstrosity. She had travelled all across Europe to escape from him, and he was there .
‘A year, yes.’ She hated how he made her voice turn thin and wispy.
‘We need to talk.’
‘My lady,’ Betty rested her hand on her arm. ‘We must go .’
Edward looked at Betty, his lips pressed together in disgust.
‘I won’t take too much of your time, Klaudi.’
‘Don’t call me that. And make it quick.’
‘I had expected a warmer welcome, but fine.’
‘You expected many things of me, Edward. None of them were ever possible.’
‘Who knows, they may be possible now.’ He let his gaze glide unhurriedly all over her. Like she was a thing and she belonged to him. ‘I have thought long and hard about what happened. You disappointed me like no one before.’
‘I never wanted any of that.’ She held onto the edge of the table. ‘I told you as soon as you started courting me. You just didn’t want to believe it.’
‘—at times I thought I wouldn’t survive the humiliation of calling off the engagement.’ He talked right over her. ‘The few people who knew I would propose thought I had done something wrong. Because how could wise, virtuous, saintly Lady Claudia ever set a foot wrong?’ His eyes were fire and she knew nothing was forgiven, nothing was forgotten, the past lived on raw and cruel and wrathful, trapped in his chest like Lucifer chained to the bottom of the Hells.
She had felt his wrath that night. She had felt it until she had wished she was dead. In every single blow. In the way he had hit her again, and again, and again. In the way he had looked at her when he had been done.
Pale. Shuddering. Revolted by her.
And she had watched on, helpless, as her childhood friend Edward, the sweet freckly boy with the big sad eyes, who had known her secrets, had rolled down his sleeves and had spat at her.
If I want a whore, I can pay for it. You are not fit to be my wife.
And again:
I can see all the men you’ve been with on your skin.
And again:
The world will find out who you really are. You will die loveless and unloved, driven insane by regrets.
Tears dropped on the pink tablecloth of the Caffè Greco .
‘I can see you are sorry for what you have done to us. I knew you would be.’ He placed a hand on her wrist and she shuddered. ‘That’s why I am willing to forgive you, Klaudi.’
His grip tightened like it had tightened around her wrist before dragging her to the floor.
React. Please, please, react!
She yanked her arm from him.
‘I don’t need your forgiveness.’ The customers turned around, and Edward froze. He was always impeccable when other people watched.
‘Now, my dear, let’s not make a scene.’ His voice was calm, but his gaze was incinerating her. ‘Let’s go somewhere private and talk it through.’
‘My lady, we need to go,’ Betty implored.
‘Surely you will convene that it would be best to talk calmly about how to address our situation—’
‘There is no such thing as “our situation.” Please , Edward,’ she begged him, and she hated herself for begging.
‘Come, Claudia, let’s be reasonable. Unless—don’t tell me you have accepted Rabenstein’s offer?’
Offer? What offer?
‘Oh, he hasn’t told you? He was ready to marry you if a scandal broke out.’
Oh, Moritz!
Edward laughed bitterly.
‘How many times has that idiot proposed to you already? The fool would take you any day exactly as you are, wouldn’t he?’ He said it as though it was inconceivable. ‘But that need not concern us now. All we need is to sit down and talk with your father. He would only be relieved to finally see us get over our little disagreement.’
‘No.’
‘Now, my dear, don’t be unreasonable. Your father was most disappointed in you. It would be your chance to make things right at last.’
‘I said no , Edward!’
But no had never meant anything to him, it had only infuriated him more, and he grabbed her wrist again.
‘What do you mean, no ? Have you forgotten who you are? Have you forgotten what I know about you? I could destroy you any time. I could destroy you now. ’ He tightened his grip, harder, harder, until it hurt and his eyes turned to embers. ‘And instead of kneeling at my feet and begging for forgiveness, you dare turn me away? Have you been whoring yourself out again? Who was the man with you in the alley the other day?’
No!
She wanted to curl around the thought of Mr Campbell, around the brightness of the hours with him, and protect them with her body from that monster.
His hand was an iron grip around her wrist. He wanted to break her. He had always wanted to break her. Own her like a thing to display in his house, crushing every single thing that made her different from him. Tears streamed from her eyes, but she did not release his gaze. But it hurt, it hurt, it hurt!
‘I’ll have you back, Claudia, I swear. Whether you want it or not. Your parents can’t wait to be rid of you. So tell me now. Who was he? ’
She stood abruptly, making sure to make enough noise for everyone to turn around. Until she was around people, she was safe. Edward paled.
‘We are done here, Betty. Let’s go.’
She turned around without looking back, Betty at her arm, and they set off fast.
‘Into that group.’ Betty nodded at some rather boisterous English ladies beholding Piazza di Spagna. For a few, confusing seconds they were surrounded by a cloud of parasols, laces and a strong scent of lavender. Then they strode across the piazza, making an unnecessarily wide turn just to head back home via the most trafficked roads.
‘I think we got rid of him, my lady.’ Betty turned around at last, her eyes big like saucers. ‘My lady?’
Her knees no longer supported her. She fell to the ground, and it all went dark.