4. The Funeral #2
The congregation dissipated, off to their respective carriages in the unrelenting downpour. Finally, Azriel and I went back to the carriage to return us to Linmere.
“That was cruel,” I said to Azriel as the carriage began to roll away from the church.
He rolled his head on his shoulders, giving me a look that would have been more suited to the face of a petulant school boy. “What was, stepmother?”
“The way you spoke to George.”
Azriel grunted out a cynical laugh. “Worried about the servants now, are we?”
“This has been a hard time for everyone in this house, and I would remind you that you spent the last several months not even writing to your father. To speak to his valet in such a way when he was offering his services-”
“Offering?” Azriel’s eyebrows shot up. “A servant has nothing to offer me, Evie. He is in indentured servitude and as such, I am the one in a position to offer him something.”
“Or rebuke it and leave a man of his seniority without work?”
Azriel regarded me with narrowed eyes. “You are rather well spoken for a woman deep in mourning.”
I huffed out a breath through gritted teeth. “Why do you keep saying that? What would you have me do?”
Azriel slouched back in his seat and shrugged, spinning his top hat on his knee. “I would not have you do anything, Evie.”
“Then this conversation is pointless,” I snapped, glaring out of the window as the carriage turned a corner and bumped over the cobbled streets.
“You didn’t answer my question. ”
I moved my glare back to him. “Which question would that be?”
“Whether or not my father had pleased you.”
Renewed outrage washed through me. “I did not answer because it is obscene.”
His mouth slowly cracked into a wide smile. “You thought I meant in your marital bed, didn’t you?”
My cheeks must have flushed the most alarming shade of crimson, the heat that rose in my face so violent that it made my eyes water.
“I’m sure I don't know what you meant.” My voice was cracking, my throat dry, and being this close to him and under that filthy gaze made me desperate for water.
“All I know is that you asking this of me is completely uncouth, especially at my husband’s funeral.
Completely aside from the fact that it is, quite frankly, none of your business. ”
“I only ask because you seem… unfulfilled.” He drawled the last word so purposefully it made my scalp prickle and my skin erupt in goosebumps.
“Yes, that is the word.” He threw his hat on the seat beside him and leaned forward on his knees, closer still, so much so that I pressed myself as hard as I could against the wall of the carriage.
“I look at you, and it is as though an ember, a spark burns, deep within you. One that has been smothered, never given enough air to burn, to truly burn.”
I wished I had kept my veil down, as those icy eyes moved over my face.
“In my experience,” he went on slowly, his eyes dropping to my hands clasped in my lap. “A woman who has such a look about her is seeking something. Or someone.”
“I suppose you have much experience, don’t you, Azriel?” As soon as I said it, I regretted the words, my heart pounding as the image of Azriel forcing the whore in the study to swallow him down swam before my eyes. “I should not have said that. Forgive me.”
He looked deeply pleased with himself, whether it was at the chance to brag about his prowess or that he had managed to unravel a shred of my politeness, I couldn’t be sure.
But he was grinning widely at me, and I wondered if the driver had gotten lost, because surely the drive home should not be taking this long.
“Perhaps your emotions are coming out after all.”
“Or perhaps you should not speak to me in such a way.”
Our eyes met across the carriage, and we stared at each other for several moments. His eyes were now lit up with vengeful curiosity, delighting in the experiment he had set into motion, and now wondering just how hard he had to unpick my stitches to have me unravel completely.
But instead of maintaining his false swagger and sick games, he leaned back in his seat.
“I do apologise, Evie. All those months lying in the Greek sun did rather take a boot to manners.”
I did not say anything, merely nodded in his direction, and let out a small sigh of relief as the carriage rolled through the gates.
I wanted nothing more than to escape his presence, to get away from those chilling eyes and the self-assured quips, the very indecency that seemed to drip from his pores.
Azriel alighted first, and once again extended a hand to help me down from the carriage. I reluctantly accepted, stepping down onto the sodden drive. I moved to step forward, but Azriel did not let me go. He instead pulled me back to him, and I resisted the urge to wrench myself out of his grasp.
“What is it now?” I asked quietly, my eyes fixed on the door, on my escape.
He lowered his head a little, just enough so his breath tickled the skin on my neck. “I do hope your next husband has it within his powers to make you happy.”
I snorted, and now it was my turn to smirk at him. “Since I never intend to marry again, I shall have to see to it myself.”
His mouth lifted into a grin. “Now, that is something I would like to see.”
I divested myself from his grasp and hurried into the house, where I was greeted instantly by Mary. Before she could speak, I had already handed her my gloves.
“I need a bath, Mary.” I hurried past her up the stairs, unpinning my bonnet and veil.
“Of course, madam, I shall have one drawn for you. Are you quite well?”
I rounded the curve of the stairs to see Azriel standing by the door, his eyes pursuing me.
“I am well,” I replied to Mary, continuing upwards. “I am just cold and miserable, and I wish to be warm.”
Mary fussed and tutted while the bath was filled with steaming water for me, thankfully not asking me about any details regarding the funeral.
I could not have answered her anyway, with Azriel’s icy eyes and menacing words ghosting around my head.
I needed to wash away the day. I needed to wash him away.
Finally, I was in the warm water, candles flickering in the ever-present drafts that whistled through the ancient, cracked walls of Linmere. Rain battered the windows, and I closed my eyes, focusing on the sound, letting it soothe my weary soul.
This act had come to an end.
Now all that remained was the reading of the will, and once that had occurred, I would be out of this house. I would never have to see Azriel again.
The water was warm and comforting, and I lay my head back against the edge of the tub. The scent of lavender and rosemary wafted through the air. I exhaled slowly, the knots of anxiety unfurling in my limbs.
And then the hairs on the back of my neck rose.
I had the overwhelming feeling I was not alone.
My eyes fluttered open, and I lay still as I listened.
A breath. Like the one I’d heard that night in the corridor.
I sat up frantically, the water splashing about me as I looked around the room. The candles danced and flickered, sheets of rain washing down the glass panes. And the ever-present wind howled and cried through the cracks in the walls, sounding like a vengeful ghost come to tell me my fate.
But I was truly alone.
I slumped back into the water with a sigh. This house had infected me with its misery. I would be nothing but a paranoid, guilt-ridden mess while I stayed within its walls.
As soon as I was back in the sunshine, back where the air was not stale and did not howl through cracked and broken walls, I would feel like myself again.