Chapter 10
Deliverance
That night I slept fitly, wracked with confusion and distress.
How long had Ada been laughing at my stupidity as she spread her legs for my husband's cock?
How long had it been funny to the two of them that I didn’t know what was going on at Grayspires Manor?
Why had Gideon lied to me? Why had he told me I could be mistress, knowing full well Ada had been running the household? Why go out of his way to marry me?
I dreamed of mockery, cruelty and deceit, coming in and out of consciousness to remember the horrible truth. My husband was keeping his mistress under this very roof, and taunting me with my inability to do anything about it.
Eventually I fell into a deeper sleep.
Then I heard his heavy tread on the squeaky floorboards.
One step.
Two.
Closer.
Closer.
And then—my husband! Tonight, he held a candle aloft, his harsh face illuminated in its flickering light so I could see his tight jaw and strong throat, the waves of his dark hair, and eyes heavy with dissipation.
“Do you truly think you can come in here and get me to perform my wifely duties for you?” I hissed at him. “Go away and be with your mistress, sir.”
Gideon said nothing, simply grabbed me by my long, thick braid and dragged me off the bed as I shrieked in rage.
"On your knees," he snarled. "Do you think it was convenient for me to go all the way to The Gables to rescue you? Do you think I wanted to marry you? I did not want to do either, my dear. So I’m afraid you and I are stuck together, and you will perform your wifely duties or else.”
"I wish you hadn’t!" I burst out passionately. “I demand you take me back to Mr. Finch and my home immediately!”
“No. Don’t be a little idiot. You belong to me now. You belong to me and to Grayspires until I decide I am done with you.”
“I’m not staying here!” I protested, as he ground me face-first into his crotch.
At this, my husband shook me fiercely.
"You have a choice, Deliverance. Get on your knees and clean me up. Or get on your knees after I thrash your ass.”
He drew his big cock from his pants, and I shuddered to see it covered in slick streaks of release.
"Or," he said harshly, "would you like to be thrown out onto the moors with the ghosts and pixies? Make your choice quickly. I have business in the morning."
It seemed I must learn to be obedient to survive here at Grayspires Manor, so accordingly I sank to my knees on the hard floor.
I would pretend to be obedient. For now.
As soon as I could, I would find a way to leave my husband. Even if I was penniless, I would find someplace to go. Anywhere would be better. I would be a washerwoman to avoid living with Gideon Nightshade.
And so I took his hard member in my hands and began to lower it into my mouth, although my panic increased with each inch. He tasted like a strange mixture of salt and earth, and I gagged as I realized with horror I must be tasting the pleasures he took with Ada.
"Deeper,” Gideon ordered.
My eyes watering, I took him in as much as I could, and the great size had barely fit into my mouth when my husband began to thrust roughly in and out. I could only grip onto his pant legs and try desperately to open wide enough to accommodate him.
My jaw fairly ached with his size, and he did not give me any time to rest in between, as drool began to pool all along my lips and drip down the lines of my throat and into my nightclothes.
"You see how weak you are,” Gideon said, in a mockery of gentleness, “You see how you must take everything I give you. How amusing that you have to do this no matter who else I fuck.”
I fought my gag reflex as tears pricked in my eyes.
Then suddenly, he abruptly pulled out and lifted me to my feet, flipping me back onto the bed.
"This is all you are good for," he gritted out, burying himself into me as I gasped with surprise. He smelled like a mix of tobacco and Ada's perfume, and there was a lump in my throat as her delicate floral scent enveloped me.
Every moment with my husband was tainted with her.
His calloused hand gripped my shoulder to keep me in place, and he plunged into me with jerky, harsh strokes, not caring about my sensitive cunny or how roughly he took me.
There was not one speck of tenderness in him.
My husband was an evil, demonic man.
The familiar sticky warm heat filled me, and my shoulders ached where Gideon gripped me.
When he pulled out, he shook his cock over me, splattering me with the last drops of his release.
Inside, I wanted to scream and rage, but I forced myself to only look blankly at him.
"If you can give me an heir, I might be pleased," Gideon said. "Although I have little hope for one from a weak little thing like you."
“Never,” I hissed through gritted teeth, lurching to my knees so his seed streamed down my thighs.
My husband found my distress very amusing, knocking his knee into mine so I fell flat on my back and was forced to stay there until Gideon was sure the release was pooling in my womb and not falling onto the floor.
That night there were no tears. I only lay there, staring at the growing wet spot in the floor. When I stepped on it, my foot sunk in, the wood soggy, sending plumes of rot into my nose.
One day I would be consumed, and whether it was by my husband or Grayspires, I did not know.
The days passed, and I walked only in shade and shadow, avoiding the spreading, sunken place in my room as I paced its narrow confines.
Was I doomed to live this torturous existence for all of my days? Unloved, unknown, forgotten?
Gideon took me when and where he pleased. Sometimes I tried to hide from him, waiting trembling in the library in hopes he would give up and spend the night with his mistress instead.
But it never worked.
Always, always, he would drag me out and fuck me, forcing those strange, ungodly convulsions out of me. I was sunk in wickedness, surrounded by its power.
How could I escape him?
And then one Sunday my husband told me we were going to church at St. Mary’s.
I could not help being excited. I knew we were isolated at Grayspires, but somewhere there were other people. Other people who might help me escape.
I fumbled with one of the shapeless, gray gowns as best I could. I did not want to think about who had been in my room before me, or which long-dead Nightshade family member had left them there.
My own clothing and possessions that Gideon had promised to have shipped had never arrived, of course, so I only had these spare dresses.
I was despairing of being ready to go, but luckily Mariam arrived just in time to slap my hands away and help me get dressed, then wind my thick hair into an updo.
Despite her muttered mumblings about useless little chits, I was able to make myself presentable by the time the carriage pulled up.
Ada was already inside, a smug look on her face.
“Get in,” Gideon said. “You may sit right next to my sister.”
It was a bitter drink to be forced to share space with his mistress.
“Is that why Grayspires is falling down?” I asked as I got inside. “God is judging you for sleeping with your sister.”
The smug smile slid from Ada’s face.
“You little brat,” she snapped. “You know very well I’m not really his sister.”
“Oh, really?” I asked, widening my eyes at her. “But my husband said you were. And he would never lie, would he?”
Gideon squeezed his big body inside and sat down next to Ada.
“Grayspires is not falling down.”
Oh, so perhaps he had one weakness. Grayspires.
“Lying is a sin,” I said. “I can’t sin on Sundays.”
His eyes flickered once, only once, as his boot landed on my dress. When I tried to pull it away, he only ground it harder into the floor of the carriage.
“You are lying. And now because of your disrespect you may watch me fuck my mistress all the way to church.”
"Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion," I thought as Ada threw her leg over Gideon and climbed on.
That verse could only be about my husband, a restless, roaming man with ambition crawling underneath his skin.
But ambition for what? Why had a man with ambition married me? It wasn’t out of kindness.
Ada turned with a smug smile, and her wet cunny made a gushing sound as she ground down over his cock.
"What an odd little country gown," she said to me. “You look like a scullery maid in that.”
Instead of letting her goad me, I opened up the Bible I had procured from the Grayspires Library.
“The mouth of an adulterous woman is a deep pit, only a man who is under God’s wrath falls for her deception.”
Gideon bared his teeth at me as his hips thrust into his mistress’ cunny.
“I fear no God. I’ve already been to hell and back. You can’t frighten me, you little idiot.”
“You, Gideon Nightshade, are an evil man. And you will come to a bad end.”
He only snorted. “You’re lucky I don’t push you out of this carriage and force you to walk.”
I turned away from their grunting, carnal sounds, and watched as we passed through the moor lands.
In the distance I saw spires of smoke that must mean St. Mary’s Abbey and the surrounding village.
As the carriage rumbled along, I noticed a very high, distinctive rock outcropping.
If I could ever escape, I could use it as a landmark to know which way to go.
At Grayspires it had seemed as if we were the only people in this part of the world.
But we were not.
Ada’s moans increased as we jolted into the village, but I ignored her.
St. Mary’s Abbey itself was all high spires and points, a heavy dark-gray building sitting just outside a small, faded village, the thatched roofs spare and patchy.
But the St. Mary’s buildings were beautiful, two large structures behind the church that I guessed must be the monastery and perhaps a brewery attached.
Gideon grunted. “Get off now.”
Well, apparently Ada didn’t make those strange, embarrassing noises I did, or had those strange convulsions. Perhaps that’s why he preferred her.