6. A Little Viper
A LITTLE VIPER
O nce Adelaide had left, yet another storm began to roll in. Thunder rumbled in the distance at an almost constant pace, and as night set in, lightning whipped the dark clouds.
I took my dinner on my own, as Azriel had indeed not returned from whatever business had taken him into town.
It was a welcome relief, and a sign of the life I was about to lead.
I did not mind being on my own. In fact, I doubted my family would leave me on my own in any case.
But when they did, I would have cats, and dogs, and I would finally be allowed to have friends.
Acton had not even allowed me a diary. He had said that a wife’s thoughts were not her own, and all should be shared with her husband. Why the need for secrets? He’d say with a laugh that was supposed to be jovial. Why indeed?
I’d been forced to hide my diary, deep in the drawers holding my underthings, the one place he oddly had the decency not to look.
Even so, I had been extremely careful about what I wrote in that little book.
I never wrote about the device, the one I’d procured from a quiet little chemist in Leicester on the recommendation of a girl I’d attended school with.
I’d never written about how I’d washed Acton’s seed away, every time he filthied my body.
He hit me hard enough when I bled. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what he’d have done, had he found out.
I most certainly never noted down my plans.
That was perhaps not because I didn’t want to risk it, no.
I truly think that until that night had actually come, when I’d seen him spluttering his way up the stairs, that terrible hacking cough that had become worse in the cold weather, I hadn’t had a plan.
It had simply happened. All the anger, the dread, the injustice of it, all those nights when he’d violated me - it had become too much to bear. And the thought of it going on…
I could not help that thought wandering back to the whore that Azriel had entertained in Acton’s study.
Lovemaking had never been enjoyable for me, but for her?
She had appeared to be enjoying it. She had made sounds I certainly never had.
She had not even protested when Azriel forced her to her knees, and to do… that.
But how could anyone enjoy that act? Being bent over and mounted, like a horse, having that disgusting member pressed inside you, spilling vile filth. That woman had simply been a good actress, stroking the masculinity of her paying gentleman to make him feel like a god.
And yet…
My cheeks were flaming, and there was an unpleasant sensation between my legs. I longed for a bath, but the boiler had not been lit and it was certainly far too late.
I wandered the halls, lost, like a ghost, as lightning illuminated the windows. I should have gone back to my room, but I could not face those suffocating four walls yet. I felt trapped, and twisted about, a deep sense of longing, and yet I had no idea what for.
Perhaps I just needed a drink.
I walked past the stairs, and down the corridor to the drawing room.
A comforting fire crackled and roared within the ornately carved fireplace, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
I lit a lamp on a side table, and crossed the room to the large oak cabinet that held all of Acton’s liquor in sparkling crystal carafes.
I took out a cognac, the only liquor I truly enjoyed, and poured myself a perhaps too-generous amount.
I swirled the amber liquid about the glass, warming against my palm, and walked over to the window to admire the leaping lightning strikes in the obsidian sky above.
It felt like yet another step in my liberation, taking a drink when I felt like it. Acton had never allowed me to drink casually, only at balls, and under his ever-watchful eye. Two glasses of champagne were more than enough in his esteemed opinion. A lady ought not to imbibe too much.
Control. He had been obsessed with it. Hence his disdain for a diary.
It occurred to me, as the sweet liquor warmed me from within, that I had not yet destroyed the letter to Azriel. It was similarly hidden away, in a place no one would find it, the one time I had indeed recorded one of my innermost secrets.
Amid a clap of thunder, movement caught my eye, and I almost choked on my cognac, hacking a cough as Azriel smiled at me from the doorway.
“Good evening.” His eyes landed on the glass in my hand. “What an excellent idea, Evie, I could do with a drink myself. I trust you don’t mind if I join you.”
It was not a question.His slightly too-loud tone, and the almost wild look in his eyes, told me that, wherever he had been, he’d already had plenty to drink .
But I simply raised my glass to him, and kept my place at the window.
“Certainly, it is your house, you may do as you like. Did you have a pleasant evening?”
He paused as he withdrew the stopper from the carafe of cognac, and ran his tongue along his teeth as he grinned.
“Yes, I suppose I did.” He lifted an eyebrow as his gaze fell in my direction. “Would you like to know where I went?”
“If you insist on telling me, I suppose I can’t stop you.”
He chuckled as he poured himself a drink. “I do love these moments we share, Evie. Did your aunt take dinner with you?”
“No, we took tea together and then she left.”
“So you have been alone all this evening, with nothing but your thoughts.” He sucked on his teeth. “Hmmm.”
“I do not mind being alone.”
He turned to face me, holding his glass in one hand and yanking at his neck tie with the other. His icy eyes stayed fixed on me as the tie came loose, and the collar of his shirt fell open, revealing the muscular plane of his chest. I quickly averted my eyes and took another sip of my drink.
“Your aunt does not care for me.”
“What makes you think that?” I asked without looking at him.
“I think that is rather obvious, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “I would simply say your reputation precedes you.”
“I have a reputation? How thrilling.” He sprawled down in an armchair, his legs spread wide, and grinned at me over the edge of his glass. “Tell me of this reputation.”
I fixed him with a glare. “You know perfectly well that you have a reputation. And you are teasing me because you are drunk.”
“I am not.” He looked me up and down almost lecherously. “ I just want to know what it is that people say about me, seeing as I am oh so very scandalous. What is it that your aunt said about me?”
“Nothing, we had more important things to discuss than Azriel Caine.”
He chuckled again, a dark and threatening sound. “And what were those?”
“The houses I have inquired after in Leicester.”
He kept his eyes on me, nodding. “You truly intend to leave then?”
“Of course.” I gestured around the room with my glass. “This is all yours, your family home, not mine.”
He snorted out a laugh, casting an almost disgusted gaze around him. “This house, with all its cracked and crumbling walls. You can practically see through them.”
“It is old, perhaps, but it is your father’s legacy, and I would not wish to take it from you.
” I took a short breath. “And I told you already that I wish to make way for your wife and family. I am sure you are most eager to honour your father’s memory, and continue his line.
He would want you to live a decent life within these walls. ”
His grin became lethal, and he rose from his chair, swirling his cognac around and around. “You mean, instead of fucking whores in his study?”
I sucked in a breath, almost dropping my glass. “Azriel, that is obscene.”
“An obscenity you seemed to enjoy observing for quite some time.” He ambled towards me, his eyes lit with a fiery flame. “Did you like what you saw?”
I gulped down another sip of cognac to appease my achingly dry throat, and refused to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Do you like to watch, Evie? ”
My face was so hot now, I almost felt faint, and that unpleasant feeling between my legs returned. “Stop this at once.”
“I asked you a question, it would be terribly rude of you not to answer.”
“No.” I snapped, and glared up at him as he moved even closer. “I did not like what I saw. I was shocked that you would do something so disgusting in your father’s house before he’d even been laid to rest.”
“I like to watch.” He rested a hand against the wall beside me, his gaze straying over the wall for a moment.
“Oh, yes. All these cracks, like little windows into the life that goes on behind closed doors. The life no one thinks is observed. As you said, this is my family home. I know it better than anyone.”
I swallowed hard, staring up at him, unable to take my eyes off him. “Well, then I am more than happy to leave it to you.”
His eyes darkened as they landed back on me, and he lifted his hand still holding the glass, trailing the back of his finger down my cheek.
Even feeling like a caged animal, I didn’t find it within me to be rude enough to flinch.
I was rooted to the spot, my body taut with fear and fury and something else I could not name.
“I’ve watched you for years, you know. Since you first entered this house.” He raised his glass to his lips, his hand still against the wall behind me. “My father’s pretty little bride.”
“I am that fascinating to you, am I?”
“Indeed you are.” He took a sip of cognac, and licked his lips, tilting his head to regard me with a raised eyebrow.
“Your face looks exquisite in the moonlight. This skin, like ivory.” He made to stroke my cheek again, but this time I did flinch, ducking out of his grasp and stumbling back against the wall to move away from him.
But his hand shot out, wrapping around my arm and pulling me back to him, so we were chest to chest.
“I think my favourite thing, though, is watching you bathe.”