Chapter 24 #2
“Anything that enters this room is liable to be ruined,” he told her. “I did warn you to leave at the beginning.”
“I suppose you’ll not buy me a replacement. Averill hinted that it was expensive. ”
“Then she overpaid. It’s about two pence worth of fabric,” he noted harshly. “You can use your pin money to get something new, should you wish to seduce some lover in the future.”
“Me take a lover?” The suggestion alarmed her more than it should. “Why? Because you’ll be busy with your own lovers?”
Struan turned to glare at her. “Oh, aye. I don’t know how I’ll choose from all the women beating a path to my door. Warped ex-soldiers in remote houses are so sought after.”
“You could pay,” she suggested, lacing her tone with sickly sweetness. “It’s not as if you haven’t before.”
“You forget. I was the one being paid. In retrospect, I should have insisted on cash rather than chattel.”
Elspeth inhaled. Struan had never once struck her, even when he was enraged. But those words felt like a slap to the face. As they were clearly meant to. Chattel.
She bunched the flimsy, tattered silk of the lingerie and the robe in her hands. “You’re a beast. I’m leaving now.”
“Thank God. Don’t ever step into this room again,” he warned her.
“So you shall come to my room in the future, until I’m pregnant and have fulfilled my duty? Seeing as you did nothing to further that goal tonight?”
“Your room is your own. And your imagined duty was already over when you invaded my room tonight. So however you feel about what I did, just remember that you came to me.”
“Go to hell,” she spat.
“I’ve already been there.”
“Then go back. And when you get there, I hope it’s hot.”
In her own room, Elspeth crawled into the bed, pulled the curtains around her and hid under the blankets.
She wanted to be anywhere but here.
This place she’d tried so hard to make into a home, only to discover that she was just another possession of the man who owned the house, like the clock in the hall or the chairs in the dining room.
And what was worse than that was how much she’d wanted to be possessed.
It was bad enough that their final encounter was so…violent wasn’t the right word. Cruel was closer. Or just unloving.
Yes, that was it. All the previous times they’d slept together, he’d always been so careful to ensure that she was prepared for whatever came next: he told her what he meant to do, and how it might feel, and asked if she was ready.
This time he hadn’t done any of that. He tortured her without the slightest hint that he cared at all how she felt.
That the torture was just as careful, and it came in the form of physical pleasure, was somehow the worst part of it.
If he’d simply beat her, she could have called him a monster.
But how could he be a monster when he made her feel the way she did?
And he’d deliberately denied her the one thing they both wanted.
Which was upsetting.
But not as upsetting as the realization that she’d still wanted it.
Wanted him.
Struan withholding himself from her was a special kind of cruelty, because she knew that it meant she’d never achieve the dream she wanted. To be a mother.
As a child who never had a mother, Elspeth raised the idea of motherhood up to religious heights.
She just hadn’t fully realized it until Struan had shared how much he wanted children.
And then Elspeth had been so excited because at last she could make someone happy just by being herself.
By becoming what he needed her to be: the mother of his child.
How pathetic.
Elspeth didn’t know what to do next, because she didn’t know what she wanted, because she didn’t know who she was.
Well, she knew that she was miserable.
She curled up on her wide, lonely bed, and sobbed.
* * * *
After a naked, furious Elspeth finally stormed out of his room, Struan didn’t sleep. He couldn’t even sit down.
Why the hell had he done all that? To punish her? He thought so at first, but now he couldn’t remember what he thought he was punishing her for, or what he thought it would accomplish.
Other than making him painfully aware of how much he desired her. Even when he was angry. Though again, he couldn’t remember why he was angry. She should be angry at him. She should hate him.
Well, she hated him now.
Maybe that was what he’d meant to do. Make her hate him so she’d never love him.
She wouldn’t love him after that. He wanted to hurt her by showing her he didn’t need her. That he could resist her. That she meant nothing to him.
It was the most painful torture he’d ever experienced, because he did need her and he couldn’t resist her and she meant everything to him.
Struan had to flee to another room before he could humiliate himself, before he gave in to temptation and slid his cock into what he knew would be the sweetest, hottest part of her body, because he’d made her that way. Primed for him.
God, he was an idiot. He pretended he was torturing her. But he was torturing himself.
Hiding in the side room, he’d come so fast that he almost screamed. And even after that, he still wanted her. When he returned to the bedroom, his stupid cock was already threatening to stiffen again at the sight of her deliciously ripe figure tied to his bed.
So he’d refused to look and said hateful things until she finally ran from him.
Was that supposed to be a victory?
He moved to the connecting door to Elspeth’s room. And heard the muffled sound of her crying.
Yes, he was definitely going to hell.
And he deserved to be there.
Would it be as hot as Elspeth wished it to be for him? Struan didn’t have to close his eyes to summon the memory of the day he was burned—the memory was always there, just under his warped and scarred skin.