Chapter Thirty #2
Because it’s monstrous, and when I arrived, I couldn’t afford to see my father as a monster. Now that I know better, I don’t have the mental wherewithal to consider the implications, all the other issues that might have been glossed over so I don’t “panic.”
I push my tray away, half eaten.
“I didn’t mean to put you off your lunch,” Marjorie says.
I force a wry smile. “Gods forbid I should be unable to eat after hearing that every other woman in this house is a captive.” I run my hands over my face. “And you suspected I knew. What you must have thought of me.”
“Nothing.” She sits on the bed and pats my hand. “You’re just as much a captive, in your way. And it’s not as if we’re bound by chains.”
I give her a hard look. “Only bound by knowing you’re in a house of werewolves, who can track you down if you flee. We might not be bound, but it makes no difference. We were brought against our will, and we’re forced to stay.”
“Oh, the rest of us weren’t brought against our will. Mr. Silas wouldn’t allow that. ” A bitterness in her voice tells me this is sarcasm. “We aren’t forced to come. Nor are we forced to lie with the men. Both are our choice. It’s the leaving that isn’t.”
“So he can tell himself he’s not a monster.”
She shrugs. “It’s how things are done. From what I hear, at one time, werewolf daughters were the ones who served.
But that caused too much jealousy and fighting, so they brought in women with other supernatural powers, those who knew about werewolves and wouldn’t be terrified of them. Mostly whores.”
I must make a face, because she laughs softly. “You don’t like that word.”
“I don’t,” I say.
“There are better, and there are worse. ‘Women who work in brothels’ then, if you prefer. The Pack targets brothels that cater to a supernatural clientele. That’s where they found me.
Young and foolish and thinking myself in love with a handsome werewolf.
He brought me here, and for a while, I continued to think myself lucky.
Most of us do. Yes, I was expected to do chores, but I had my man, and after he tired of me, I could choose my lovers.
That was better than I had it at the brothel.
But freedom of choice isn’t really freedom when you lack the choice to leave. I discovered that soon enough.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My quarrel is with the system and the man in charge of keeping it. The wolves can’t leave easily either.
But we all have hopes of change. Every new Alpha brings in a new way of doing things, and this way won’t be Mr. Bishop’s.
When he ascends, things will change.” She quickly adds, “Whenever that happens. Obviously, not any time soon.”
I school my features and only say, “I hope it will be soon.”
A brief smile, our eyes meeting. “So do I.”
She starts to rise, but I say, “And Tabitha? Was she brought here? She’s too young to have been working in a brothel—or so I hope.”
Marjorie goes still. Then she snaps open my wardrobe and begins rifling for a gown. “Tabitha’s mother worked here.”
“Tabitha is a werewolf’s daughter?”
Marjorie slows, and even with her back to me, I know she’s considering how much to say.
Then she turns. “No. Her mother was pregnant—barely—when she arrived. Ann’s mother counseled Tabi’s mother to pretend the wolf who brought her was the father.
He was… eager for children, and in a position of power. ”
“Silas,” I breathe, the air catching in my lungs.
“Yes, but Tabi’s mother wouldn’t lie. She was a proud young woman who had no intention of staying and raising a child, even with the Alpha. She’d been tricked into coming. She was a witch, obviously, and your father…”
“Has a hatred of witches. After dealing with my mother and my aunt. They humiliated him.”
“Yes. He hates them, but he can’t seem to stay away from them.
He was terrible to Tabi’s mother. She planned to escape as soon as she had the baby.
If she pretended it was his, he would never have let her go.
So she didn’t. Shortly after Tabi was born, her mother tricked your father into a forest walk, the three of them, and then she hid the babe and attacked.
Caught unawares—and having underestimated her powers—he was injured.
But she wasn’t powerful enough to kill him.
So he…” Marjorie inhales. “He killed her.” She meets my gaze. “Should I stop there?”
“No,” I whisper, because I know what’s coming and I need to hear it. I need to face the full measure of my father’s monstrosity.
“He made certain Tabitha could never cast spells,” Marjorie says.
“He did it before he killed her mother, so her mother would die knowing what he’d done to her daughter.
Then he changed the rules for all women in the house.
Before that, there were strict guidelines about how they could use their powers.
Afterward, your father forbade all the use of supernatural powers, even to help make our work easier. ”
I sit perfectly still until I can breathe again. Then I say, “That’s why no one’s suggested teaching Tabitha sorcerer magic. I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“You couldn’t have known. I decided to allow it—your father is too caught up in other concerns to notice.”
I stare out, lost in dark thoughts until Marjorie lays a dress on the bed.
“Come,” she says. “Mr. Bishop said he’ll be back soon. You should dress.”
“When Bishop becomes Alpha, you’ll be free, yes?”
She nods. “Free to make our own choice. To stay or leave. That’s what he’s promised, and he keeps his word.”
“What will happen to Tabitha then?”
“Ann and I’ll take her. We have plans.”
Do I feel a twinge of disappointment? If so, it’s a silly one. I’m floundering and looking for purpose, but these women have raised Tabitha. Of course she’ll stay with them. All I can do is offer whatever assistance they will accept.
“Up, miss,” Marjorie says. “I can’t dress you sitting down.”
“Cordelia, please,” I say as I rise. “And may I seek your advice on something? A thing you seem to have a great deal of experience in?”
She grins, eyes snapping. “Oh, I’m more than happy to share my experience.”
I laugh softly. “Not that. Well, yes, I might also take that, but for now…” I nibble my lip.
“Working with my aunt, we dealt with a lot of unsavory people. That was business. But Silas is something else entirely.” I meet her gaze.
“How do I eat at his table, talk to him, behave normally around him, knowing everything he’s done? ”
“How do you converse with a repulsive man and pretend you find him charming? That’s another thing I learned working in a brothel. Let me give you some advice…”
As the clock strikes three, Bishop comes to collect me.
He murmurs that it’d be best if we were seen together in the common areas, and he assures me that Silas is busy, and so we don’t have to worry about bumping into him.
We return to the main parlor, where a few of the others are lounging, and we spend the rest of the afternoon talking and playing chess.
Dinner comes sooner than I’d like, but I’m ready for it. Fortunately, Silas won’t expect me to be charming or charmed—he’d be suspicious if I were. He killed my aunt and ordered Bishop to punish me for lashing out in my grief. The best he can expect is frosty cordiality, and that’s what I deliver.
To my relief, he doesn’t seat me on his left side. He smiles and waves to the empty seat beside Bishop, saying, “I believe you’d prefer your fiancé’s conversation.”
I look at the empty seat. Henry Cain’s. Reginald’s chair is also empty. I don’t know what happened to either of them. Bishop and I haven’t had enough private time together today, and I wasn’t sure how to ask in front of others.
If I’m being allowed to join the Pack for dinner, clearly Silas has decided I told the truth about Reginald and Henry. And if I told the truth, then both men would be punished, which explains their empty chairs.
Will anyone blame me for that? I glance down the table for Harry, but there are too many men for me to easily notice an empty spot.
“Henry is back under Julius’s care,” Silas says, filling his wineglass and then passing the bottle to Bishop.
“Oh,” I say, as neutrally as I can.
“He was under orders to rest yesterday,” Silas says. “Apparently, he did not.”
I nod, as if this is mere casual conversation. I sneak a look at Reginald’s chair, hoping for an update, but Silas ignores the hint.
“Henry was in no shape for a fight,” Silas says. “Bishop gave him one, and I can’t blame him for that. Now Julius says there are internal injuries. He’s staying with him.”
“Proof, I believe,” Claude says mildly, “that we should let Julius complete his surgical studies. Medicine is fine, but we also need a surgeon.”
Silas shrugs. “We heal quickly. Henry is an ox. He’ll be fine. What he really needs to worry about is what happens to him after he’s released from Julius’s care.” He waves his glass at us, sloshing wine over the edge. “There will be consequences for what he did to you, my dear. Consequences. ”
No, there will be consequences for what he did to the Alpha’s property. I take a long sip of my own wine. They may need to break out the brandy early if I’m to survive this meal.
Thankfully, Bishop catches that long sip and asks whether I have ever traveled and where, which launches us into a very safe conversation that Claude can join.
Even Silas participates. No, naturally Silas participates.
Because he’s playing the loving father again.
It’s a mask he can pull off and on as it suits him.
Loving father. Convivial host. Brutal Alpha.
Murdering coward. Whatever gets him what he wants.
Food arrives and that slows the need for talking. When we’re finished with our first plates, Silas stands to address the table, and I tense so quickly that Bishop lays a hand on mine.
“Gentlemen,” Silas calls. “If I may have your attention, please.”