Chapter Thirteen #4
“Like what?” I asked, challenging her.
She made to speak, opening her lips, and then seemed to think the better of it.
“You’re little more than his mistress,” she said, finally. “Nothing else. Once he’s finished using you, it’ll be you packing your things, snivelling over your suitcase, on your way out the door – not me. Do yourself a favour, Grace. Go sooner rather than later, before you hurt yourself.”
Maggie glared at me a final time before stalking past me, continuing down the aisle to the front row.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Eugenie, putting a comforting arm around my shoulders. “I can’t see that meddling old cow letting you get any answers today. Not unless...unless you want to go marching up to him right now.”
I could see that option had lit a fire behind her eyes.
I’d only need to give the word for her to be swept away in the excitement of a dramatic confrontation; but my own flame had been dimmed.
Maggie’s words, calling me a mistress, stung worse than the sores on my arms and face.
I felt truly beaten up. My heart was as wounded as my skin, to think that Nick might only be using me for comfort.
Nick was a noble man, a truly decent man, and if Eugenie had asked me that morning if I thought he loved me, I’d have said, wholeheartedly, yes. I’d have told her that he showed me how much he loved me every night, every inch of me, sometimes until dawn.
But now I wasn’t certain. He was keeping secrets from me, and I felt too wounded to dismiss Maggie’s words the way I wanted to. She had sowed the seeds of doubt, and I felt miserable. To confront him now would only turn a bad situation worse, and I didn’t want to humiliate myself any further.
“I just want to go back to my room,” I said solemnly.
We left the church to the guttural, agonised moans of pain echoing out from the front row. Eugenie and I shared a pregnant silence on the bus journey home. I assured her I could make my own way back from the bus stop, leaving her to continue along the route.
When I returned to Crowthorne House, a familiar figure was standing in the gravel courtyard, looking up at the balcony to my room.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I said, forcing myself to adopt a brighter disposition. Apparently Nick wasn’t the only one who could put on a front.
Dorian turned and smiled, his sunny face lifting me out of my gloom momentarily.
“I hope you don’t think I’m a bit weird, hanging around outside like this, only nobody answered the door,” he said, chuckling in his good-natured way.
His navy shirt was dry and clean, looking like he’d managed to avoid the rain.
“I was going to give you a call, but uh, Eugenie mentioned she was coming to see you. I thought I could drop by and surprise you both.”
“I left her on the bus home. Oh god, she didn’t tell you, did she?”
Dorian produced a small black box of chocolates in a fuchsia ribbon and handed them to me with a bashful grin.
“I’m afraid she did. I’m sorry to hear you’ve been in the wars.”
I took the chocolate box and pocketed it in my raincoat pocket, but not before stroking its expensive-looking pink ribbon. It was made from a suede-like material and hadn’t been hastily purchased from a convenience store.
It told me that Dorian was earnest and sweet; the sort of man I was supposed to be attracted to. He was handsome, too, and young, and he clearly liked me. It was also obvious that Eugenie had not yet told him that I was involved with Nick.
Though I now questioned, with a pain in my chest, what that involvement even meant to him.
“You’re far too kind, Dorian,” I said. I was tempted to reveal it to him now, that my heart belonged to someone already – to the very someone who had introduced us in the first place – but I paused.
Maggie was right. I was just the woman Nick was sleeping with.
What did it matter that I was his apprentice?
Nick could throw me out on a whim at any point, and I’d have nothing to my name; not even a qualification. My new life and ambition could be over before it had started, and all because I’d fallen in love.
“Maybe we should go inside, unless you feel up to a nice walk?” he asked. “It’s supposed to be dark and drizzly all afternoon.”
I smiled, finding it quite sweet that he was thinking about the weather and my comfort. If only that were enough for me, I could easily fall in love with Dorian.
“Let’s go and say hello to the horses,” I said, gesturing towards the stables. “I’ve been promised an afternoon of horse riding at some point, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
“Did you take care of horses back in the Dales?” he asked, walking alongside me.
“No,” I said wistfully. “We had a donkey once, but not a horse. Although – ” I almost mentioned Tom, and then decided against it. He’d had several horses and had broken them himself. “ – although I would have loved one. They’re such gentle creatures.”
There were four horses in total, all in their stables with fresh hay. They were black and gleaming with their tails braided and coats brushed. They looked beautiful at the head of the black funereal coach, which was kept under cover in one of the outhouses, like something out of a fairytale.
I introduced Dorian to Opal, showing him how to stroke her muzzle, while we talked. It was easy to chat to Dorian. Simple. When the wind picked up a little and it began to rain, Opal ducked back inside her stable for a rest. Dorian moved in closer to shield me from the spittle.
“I’ve never met anyone like you before, Grace,” he said, his tone changing to a softer one, moving away from idle chit-chat. My heart pounded.
“Perhaps that’s a good thing,” I said, chuckling awkwardly. “Just look at what a bit of sunlight does to me.”
“You seem a little down. What is it? Missing home?” he asked with such earnest concern that tears prickled my eyes.
“Certainly not,” I said. “I love it here. But I don’t know...some forces at work seem hell-bent on putting me off, and sending me back to the Dales.”
The forces at work, of course, being Maggie and Tom. I decided to keep those details to myself.
“Then you should be all the more resolute in staying. Fight for the things you want,” he said, “And don’t let them go.”
“Sometimes I’m so tired of fighting,” I said wearily. “Does life ever feel like one long, endless battle for you, like it does for me?”
Dorian nodded softly, as if he understood completely.
“It’s a struggle, and then – “
“We die,” I said. We shared a laugh.
I glanced up at him in time for him to bow his head, and before I could overthink it, his lips were on mine, soft, warm, and reassuring.
Dorian drew me into his embrace and kissed me softly at first, and then deeper, sending a wave of heat throughout my body.
Not fire and temptation, but safety and security.
“I won’t let anything tear you away from here,” he said, when our lips parted.
I sighed. He deserved to know about me and Nick. I’d already allowed him to go too far.
“Dorian, I have to tell you – ”
A violent shove sent Dorian staggering back, his eyes wide and confused. Nick was standing there, his eyes black pits of fury.
“Nicholas? What the hell –”
“Get out of here,” he said through bared teeth. “And don’t you ever touch her again.”
I glared at Nick, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. His hair was damp and curling about his head and neck, his eyes black and wild with anger.
“Don’t you dare shove him like that! How was he supposed to know? You and I are a big secret, remember?”
“Grace, stop this immediately,” said Nick, as though in warning. He reached for my shoulders but I batted his hands away. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Grace.” Dorian held his hands up in surrender, backing away. A part of me wished he’d fight for me, if only to see Nick forced to prove his love for me, but that wouldn’t be fair. Dorian hadn’t asked for any of this.
“I’m sorry, I really am,” I said, wishing I’d resisted the curious urge to kiss him back. “We can still be friends, can’t we?”
“Of course,” said Dorian, inviting another vicious glare from Nick as he turned and walked away.
I hit Nick in the chest with my open palm. “That was a disgusting way to treat him!”
“He’s lucky I didn’t gut him on my slab, and you beside him, for what you just did to me,” said Nick, his expression so foreboding that it made me shiver. “You didn’t mind me man-handling that friend of yours from the Dales.”
“I’ve never seen you like this before,” I said, my voice quavering.
“And I’ve never seen you like this before. I thought you were committed to me, to us, but I can see I was mistaken.” Nick grabbed me by the arm and tugged me toward the house, but I ripped it away. He turned on me, clenching his teeth. “Get inside, Grace.”
“Fuck you and all your secrets,” I said, my burns throbbing inside their bandages. “I’ve had it with this place. It’s trying to kill me. You are trying to kill me.”
“You haven’t had it with this place, and you know it. Don’t say things that aren’t true. You love it here. You belong here,” said Nick. “You belong with me.”
With that, he scooped me up in one arm and threw me over his shoulder. I thrashed and screamed but he paid no mind, even as I beat my hands against his back. He carried me up the mahogany staircase to the top floor, his bedroom, and slammed the door behind us.
The wind howled outside as the rain pelted against the window. Nick threw me down on the bed and tore the raincoat over my head, throwing it aside.
“What is this? A test of my loyalty, or a remarkable lack of yours?” he asked.
Nick threw off his woollen overcoat and jacket, kicking off his shoes as he did so. Then he began to unbuckle his belt. A wry smirk appeared on his face as he watched me watching him, unable to tame the stirring in my womb, and the way it tightened and flexed as he unbuckled.