Unseen

10. A Lie and A Choice

A LIE AND A CHOICE

T he dark night encroached, and Mary fussed once again over my refusal to eat. But I could not bring myself to force down a single bite. The feeling that whirred through my body, I imagined it was precisely what Hendridge must have felt before that trap door fell out from under him.

Any moment, any second now, everything would change, and there would be no going back.

As Mary stoked the fire, I smoothed my hands over my skirt, and cleared my throat.

“Mary, I have decided to spend the night in vigil.”

She stopped what she was doing, her eyebrows raised as she looked across the room at me. “Madam?”

“Today, speaking with Father Price, I felt compelled to… seek a way forward, and for that, I feel I must sit in vigil tonight.”

“Of course madam, allow me to sit with you.” She smiled warmly, and wiped her hands on her pinafore.

I dipped my head, smiling awkwardly at my clasped hands in my lap. “Thank you, Mary, but no. I recognised today how lost I am, and how I might seek some comfort from prayer.”

“Of course, madam, but-”

“My mind is caught in a raging storm, Mary.” I looked up at her, surprising even myself as tears sprang to my eyes.

“I cannot bear waking every morning knowing that this is my future.” I swallowed hard, hating that Mary could not know the truth in my words, and just what my future would hold after this evening.

“Father Price has told me to have faith in our Lord, and to try and see a way forward.”

“There is a way forward, madam.” Mary hurried across the room to crouch at my feet, taking my hand. “There always is. My grandmother always used to tell me when I was a girl, when God closes one door, another will open.”

I smiled weakly at my maid, clutching her hand and wishing more than anything I could tell her what the door that had just been opened for me held. A prison, even worse than the one I had just escaped.

“Your grandmother was right, I’m sure.”

“Of course she was.” Mary’s face broke into a wide, hopeful smile. “You are young, madam. You have so much life ahead of you. Your mourning is but two years, and after that, you may yet meet a man, and remarry, and with God’s blessing, even bring children into the world.”

My stomach churned. “Yes, God willing. ”

“You have a wonderful life ahead of you, madam. I know it.”

“Thank you, Mary. Be that as it may, I must do this alone.” I gazed out at the dark night, a sliver of crescent moon hanging low in the sky. “I need time, in prayer, to unravel all of these thoughts. To try and find some way out of my torment.”

Mary nodded. “Of course, madam. I understand. I shall leave you to your prayers.” She rose to her feet. “I shall make ready for bed, if you need anything, please just call.”

“Of course.”

She closed the door quietly behind her, but she may as well have slammed it home.

It had the same echoing crescendo as the trap door giving way under Hendridge.

For now, alone in my room, I was not going to turn to God for absolution.

Instead, I would be delivering myself into the hands of the devil himself.

I delayed as long as I could, but by 10 o’clock, I knew there was no point lingering.

I made my way silently along the passages of the old, crumbling manor, up the softly creaking stairs to Azriel’s room. I already felt myself slipping away, drifting these rooms and hallways mournfully, seeking escape and yet never finding it.

I lifted my hand and took a deep breath, before knocking softly on Azriel’s door. My heart was hammering in my chest, and my whole body trembled. I bit my lips together, determined to maintain calm, and not let Azriel see just how distressed I was.

The door opened, and there he stood. He wore black trousers and a white shirt, open to the waist. His hair was damp, as though he’d recently bathed, and he smelled warm, of bitter orange. The smile on his face was so triumphant, I wanted to slam my fist into his mouth.

“Good evening,” he said languidly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“In a state of undress?”

He laughed. “I think the time for formalities has well and truly passed, don’t you think, beloved?” He stood aside and gestured with a sweeping hand for me to enter.

I stepped over the threshold into his room, which was better lit than it had been last time I entered it.

Candles flickered on the mantelpiece, above the crackling fire, and a lamp glowed on the table under the window.

A book lay open on the table beside the armchair, and his boots and coat had been discarded on the floor near his bed.

Bile rose in my throat as I looked on that bed, with its rumpled linens, and recalled what he had done to me in that bed just two days ago.

“Drink?” He asked so suddenly, his voice made me jump. He closed the door and crossed the room to a large armoire, retrieving a cut crystal bottle, and pouring himself a generous amount of amber liquid.

“No, thank you, I…” I took another deep breath, hoping it would steady me, then nodded. “Yes, actually. Yes, please.”

“Might help you calm your nerves,” he said, handing me the very full glass with a grin. “You look ready to jump out of your skin.”

“I am not at all nervous.” I took a swig of the brandy, and coughed a little as it burned my throat. “I am angry.”

“At me?”

“Who else?” I glowered at him over the edge of my glass. “You have placed me in an impossible situation.”

“If you came here expecting me to apologise, I won’t.” He grinned at me, eyes sparkling with confidence .

I huffed out a cynical laugh. “I would never expect anything as civil as an apology from you. Not after what you did to me in your bed.”

“When you came to kill me?” He ambled towards me, the glass dangling from his fingertips. “When you held a knife to my throat and could have ended me at any moment, but chose to let me fuck you with my hand instead?”

“I did not choose that,” I spat at him, taking another too-large swig of brandy that made me splutter. “I begged you to stop.”

“Your body betrayed you then, didn’t it?” He ran a finger along his lips. “I can still taste you, beloved.”

“You’re a vile monster.”

“Yes, you said that.” He looked almost bored, tipping the glass back and forth in his hand before sipping his brandy again. “Now, you came here for a reason. Let me hear what you have decided.”

“Well, I do not wish to die.”

He regarded me with narrowed eyes. “No, that I know. So you have decided I am the better choice.”

“Do not flatter yourself.”

“Then say it, Evie.” He moved closer to me, ever closer, until he was looking down at me, the firelight catching his blue eyes. “I want to hear you say it.”

“You know what this will mean, don’t you?” I laughed incredulously. “My god, Azriel, you are going to ruin me. You are going to ruin us.”

“I don’t care.”

“You will when you are cast out from all good society.”

Azriel shrugged. “There is no good society, Evie, and I have never sought its good opinion.”

“But… I mean, how do you even intend to make this legal?” I was scrambling now, my will to escape screaming at me to find something, anything, to make him rethink his pl an. “You cannot marry me, not for two years. I am not permitted to take another husband in my mourning.”

“You will come with me to the civil register and there we will be wed.” Azriel put his glass down on the side table.

“The clerk owes me a large debt, and is not in a position to refuse. He may fear for his reputation, but will not refuse me.” He spread his hands with a satisfied smile.

“So you see, Evie. There is no impediment to our marital joy. Now.” He took another step closer to me, so we were almost touching. “I want to hear you say it.”

I glared at him, clutching the glass so hard I thought it might break and shred my hand to bloody ribbons.

He had thought of everything. He had planned it all out.

And there was truly no escape for me. Finally, amidst a storm of butterflies in my stomach and bile rising in my mouth, I gave him a brief nod.

“I accept your proposal.”

Azriel threw his head back and laughed out loud. “My proposal?” His eyes were sparkling when they landed back on me. “What a demure way to put it.”

“Your threat, then.” I closed the distance between us, jutting my chin out defiantly. “I accept your threat, and your violence, and your brutality.”

The glass fell from my hands and shattered as Azriel seized my chin in his hands and backed me into the wall beside the fireplace. I stared at him wide-eyed, full of fear and fury, wanting to run and tear his eyes out at the same time.

“Say you will be my wife.” He squeezed my face hard enough to leave a bruise. “Say it.”

“I just did.”

“Say it.”

I tried to shake my head, to push him away, but he held fast. “No. ”

“Fucking say it!” He bellowed in my face with such ferocity I was sure a servant would come running at any moment.

“I will be your wife!” I scratched and clawed at his neck. “You’re hurting me! Let me go!”

He brought his mouth down on mine, his tongue forcing my lips apart and muffling any sounds of protests I made. He consumed me hungrily, violently, and it wasn’t a kiss so much as a claim. Another seal of his ownership on my body.

When he finally pulled back, loosening his grip on my face, we were both panting. He trailed a hand down my bodice, gripping my waist, and lay his forehead against mine.

“You’re mine now, Evie.”

“I will never be yours.” I shoved him away from me and headed for the door. “And don’t think I’ll marry you in a pretty white wedding dress either.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I should have run. I should not have stopped. But the tone in his voice was so lethal, that it sent shivers down my spine, and froze me to the spot. It was all I could do to turn and face him. His eyes were dark with desire.

“I am going back to my room. You have what you wanted.”

“Do I?” He took a few steps towards me. “You are mistaken.”

I held out a hand, foolishly, as though that would ward him off. “I do not know what you think you may have this night but-”

“I will have you.” He gestured up and down my body with his finger. “I’ve waited years for you, and I will not wait a moment longer.”

“Azriel, no.” I backed away towards the door, his footsteps matching mine as easily as a predator stalking their prey. “We are not married, you cannot. I will not let you. ”

“Take off your dress.” There was not a hint of request in his tone. It was a command, clear and sharp, matched by the fierce desire that lashed his features.

I shook my head. “ No. ” I had been a fool to think that something as simple as a dress would hold Azriel back.

“Take off. That fucking. Dress.” His words were punctuated by every step he took towards me.

The door was still at my back, and if I had run and screamed for help, someone may have come. But then I remembered the letter, the one that would seal my fate and deliver me to the gallows.

“I-I can’t.” I stammered, my breath coming in short gasps. “Azriel, I cannot take it off. The lacing.” I gestured with frantic hands to my back. “I need help with the lacing. I cannot take it off on my own.”

For one hopeful moment, I believed he would relent. His face softened ever so slightly as he took in the black mourning gown. His brows twitched together in a frown. I held my breath, hoping he would see sense.

But then his eyes met mine, fierce and almost feral with lust and sin, and his hand shot out to take my arm.

“Then allow me to assist you.”