Innocence and Carnality

by J. Alan Veerkamp

  Once finished, I stood, returning the imprisoning garment to its rightful position, no matter how tempted I was to find a method to destroy it. With a tentative hand, Harston turned the key in the lock, ensuring my value to my future husband.

  WITH A light touch, a new lens spun into place, magnifying my view. Through my custom monocle, the music box’s internal workings filled my vision. One by one, I placed new gears into the cavity, rebuilding the motor to play a complex symphony. At last they were in place, leaving only the coiled spring to be installed, which would provide the power to function. The gaslight barely gave off enough light, but at this time of night, I had little choice. I was so engrossed in my task, I ignored my bedroom door opening. The presence hovered at my shoulder for long moments, silent yet disruptive. I smelled her perfume and saw the fabric of her dress from the corner of my eye.

  I refused to turn in her direction. “Since you insist on interrupting me, I imagine you’re waiting for something.”

  “Waiting for you to finish and head to bed.” Mother spoke in hushed tones in the evening, whether anyone slept or not. “It’s late. Lord Rother will be here tomorrow. You need to be fresh.”

  “I’d hardly want him to turn me down for having bags under my eyes.”

  “It certainly wouldn’t make a good first impression. I saw a package arrived from the clothier. You’ll be wearing your new wardrobe as we discussed?”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “I want you to have every advantage when he arrives.”

  I set down my tools as my annoyance grew. “My virtue is his only requirement. I’d say your efforts are safe.”

  “You’re no stranger to expectations. Why must you be so difficult?”

  I pulled off the monocle, sighing in frustration as I dumped it on the table. “I don’t try to be. The last few years have been difficult. It keeps slipping out.”

  “You knew, at some point, we would be in this position.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Every noble lad and lady is paired with a spouse of proper standing.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “We are working to ensure you and your brothers’ futures.”

  She cringed as I shoved my chair backward, scraping it across the expensive floor. I shot to my feet, but Mother was impossible to intimidate. I looked her square in the eye, unlike my brothers who towered over us all. My disdain spilled out, unrestrained.

  “Finn is oldest and will inherit the manor. Thomas will wed a wealthy heiress. Both of them will become partners in the family business. Their futures are looking quite grand. I, on the other hand, am being married off like a trophy daughter to the highest bidder.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Don’t you think I noticed how my tutors changed my studies after my orientation was determined? I went from finance to protocol lessons overnight. If I hadn’t befriended the local blacksmiths and clockworkers, I’d have no usable skills at all.”

  “It was in your best interests.”

  “How?”

  Mother’s porcelain features began to soften. “You never heard the stories of the losses during the plague. It’s coarse to talk of such things, and you were too young to remember the horrors. Whole families were wiped out. Harston is the only survivor of his own. Until the vaccine was discovered, it was devastating. Afterward, with the Monarch’s lead, public opinion shifted drastically in Deilia. Any union without the chance for childbearing is highly frowned upon.”

  “So I’m being married off to prevent a social stigma on the family.”

  She ignored my snarling. “It’s far more complicated than that. Some of the fanatically devout rose against men like yourself. They blamed your orientation for the plague, which is ludicrous, but you can’t reason with some people.” A tremor appeared in her voice. “There had been violence, Nathan. Horrible, horrible violence. The temperament of the land has calmed, but I still don’t trust it. I have no intention of allowing such things to happen to my little boy. The best option was to find somewhere you would be accepted.”

  As the revelation grew, my resentment cooled. “But you didn’t send me away.”

  Glassy, her doll-like eyes caught the glint of the gaslight. “I couldn’t. You were my sweet, fair child. It was the only time I ever openly defied your father. Sending you away was unacceptable. There had to be to another way.”

  “Did Father want to send me away for my safety, or to save face? No. Don’t answer that.”

  And she didn’t.

  Mother’s tiny hand cupped my cheek with rare maternal warmth. “You were always the prettiest of my children. A wealthy man would prize your beauty and give you a new home. Somewhere safe. But certain standards had to be maintained.”

  I hated when my appearance was compared to my brothers. I wanted to be rough-and-tumble like they were, not pretty and boyish. It wasn’t my fault I took after her rather than Father. The reasoning still offended me, but I understood. Mother’s resolute tone spoke of her need to protect.

  “With or without my consent.” The chastity belt’s presence wore on me stronger since the announcement of Lord Rother’s visit.

  “I’m sorry you don’t approve of the method, but I don’t have your father’s penchant for gambling. I needed a guarantee.”

  “It’s still not fair.”

  Brushing the hair from my forehead, she spoke in whispers. “We were born into privilege, but it comes at a cost. None of us choose who we bind our lives to. I want you somewhere you’ll have a greater chance of happiness.” With as deep a breath as her corset allowed, she straightened and turned away. “Now, finish this quickly, and head off to bed. If Lord Rother is your future, I would like you to embrace the opportunity.”

  Delicate as ever, Mother closed the door behind her, making barely a sound. I tried to resume my project, but my motivation evaporated. Her unexpected maternal moment disarmed me. All I could do was push the music box aside and stare out the window into the night sky. I found a bright star in the distance, reveling in its intensity. Turning off the gaslight, I focused on the brilliant pinpoint and made a wish. I hoped they would, somehow, see it was better to let me make my own choices than follow the plan laid out for me.

  Of course, I knew wishes were the stuff of children’s fantasies and my time had run out.

  Chapter 2

  HARSTON REACHED down inside my waistline to tuck in my linen shirt, then buttoned my braces into place. The tension of the straps over my shoulders pulled my pants up enough to accentuate the tailored fit through my thighs and buttocks. With practiced fingers, he smoothed the snug fabric until even the chastity belt couldn’t be seen underneath. I had to admit, his skills were impressive as usual. He quickly lifted the waistcoat hanging from the wardrobe. Two subtle tones of white created vertical stripes through the garment, and I stretched my arms outward to ease my dressing.

  “Isn’t it exciting, Sir Nathan? Traveling to another land to be wedded to a wealthy nobleman?” Harston’s words were quick and eager. His normal eloquence had come undone over the past few days as the time grew near.

  As he slid my arms through the vest, I couldn’t find the energy to respond with much more than a whisper. “No, Harston. It’s not. I’ve never even met the man. I don’t see what’s so exciting.”

  Harston paused, aghast. “But he’s a lord! How can you not be excited?”

  I sighed. Harston simply couldn’t understand. He was my most trusted servant, but his family was originally penniless before he was recruited into my family’s service. For him it had been an upgrade from a dismal life. I did not see my own potential betrothal in the same light.

  “From where I stand, there’s little to celebrate.”

  Harston’s brow creased in confusion. “I don’t understand. Isn’t this a grand honor? The whole house is talking about your first proper suitor.”

  “Then let the house meet him.”

  “Forgive me, Sir Nathan, but why would you think that way
?”

  “I’ve had no say whatsoever in the matter. In most circumstances, both parties know one another before they agree to meet and court. This is happening whether I wish it or not. It makes me feel like purchased chattel.”

  “You’re nothing of the sort, sir.”

  I turned my head to catch his full attention. “You’re dressing me so that my body might arouse him. He requested a virgin and all my clothing is white. I don’t recall discussing this with the clothier, so I can assume this was Father’s request?”

  Harston’s voice became sheepish. “He might have said something to that effect.”

  Of course it was at Father’s request. Mother may have had a hand in my future, but he had the final say and always would. Being the patriarchal head of a noble family was the mark of a successful Deilian lord. We all understood our position and lived it, whether we agreed or not. And Mother would never have agreed to dress me in white for a dinner affair. Not this early in the season.

  “Everyone wants to be sure he doesn’t reject me. How do you expect me to feel?”

  After an awkward tick of the clock, Harston continued to dress me in silence. When I caught a glimpse of his face, it wore a worried brow, and he avoided my eyes. My arrangement meant a new locale for him as well. He was my private attendant, after all. The marriage and relocation would serve to benefit him, so I could see how torn he was over my plight. If it was a plight after all.

  Lord Rother Marsh Delaga III was only a few hours away. The manor was alive with servants scrambling to complete the last-minute details of the lavish dinner event prepared for his visit. Planning had begun well before the formal announcement, as I discovered last week, and had intensified the closer we came to our first meeting.

  While I may not have appreciated my parents’ methods, I was still following the dictates of my status. Even if Lord Rother walked away without accepting me, at some point I would be married in a fashion benefiting my family and my future spouse. Nothing changed the truth of how it was done. The thought of leaving my only home frightened me, but I could grouse over the situation or find a way to accept and make the most of it all. Otherwise, fighting a hopeless battle would grow a cancer within me, sapping me of life and happiness. The stress had eaten enough of me already.

  Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all. That’s what I would keep telling myself as my stomach twisted into a nauseated mess to pair itself to the throb in my temple. If I managed to survive this dinner without embarrassing myself, I stood a small chance of happiness.

  Or my skull could explode and ruin my father’s plans in a ghastly shower. One could only be so lucky.

  At least moving to a new country would remove me from my father’s disapproving sight. I’d never again have to listen to his not-so-subtle asides about never having grandchildren from me. As if he didn’t have two other virile sons to perform the deed for him. It was no secret his disdain centered more on the scandal over having a son who preferred men than my lacking the ability to procreate.

  Harston snugged the ties in the back of the vest, the bone rods straightening my posture. Rigid elegance was the way of the Deilian noble. I watched Harston pull the simple jacket from the wardrobe, its sleek texture an understated contrast to the pattern of my waistcoat. The two together would focus attention on my chest.

  “Do you know what he’s like?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry, Sir Nathan. I’ve heard nothing.”

  “So much for servants’ gossip.” It was intended to be a joke, but given the mood, it was a caustic comment.

  I let out a slow breath, trying to ease my nerves. Two weeks had passed, and the lack of information I’d received on Lord Rother had me on edge. My potential future husband was coming and after all my contrary reactions, it embarrassed me to admit part of the reason for my discomfort to Harston.

  “Do you think he’ll like me?” My chin dipped, along with my volume.

  Fastening the button at my neck, Harston coaxed my head upright and caught my eye. “How could he not? Unless he’s a fool, with your fair skin, blond locks, and blue eyes, he’ll be smitten with one look.”

  “What if he’s a fool?”

  “Your father doesn’t deal with that sort of man.”

  Out of all the accessories living on my dresser, Harston lifted a silver pin and fixed it to my lapel. It was a series of clock gears welded into a grouping, giving an ingenious personal flair to my outfit. Father never approved of my hobbies, so its significance was perfect. The tiny defiance, and knowing I would have Harston at my side, made the anxiety a little smaller.

  “Perhaps I’m worried about nothing at all.”

  Harston looked up at me as he brushed my dinner jacket, a soft smile radiating from him. “That’s the spirit, Sir Nathan. You just wait and see.”

  “I CAN’T believe we’re sitting here waiting for your guest. I’m hungry and he’s late.” Finn stomped back and forth, fiddling with the gaslight knobs and edges of gilded portraits along the wall. Mother shared the settee next to Father, making idle conversation, and Thomas seemed bored with no new pretty girl to conquer. Everyone bided their time, dressed in regal earth tones, dark and rich for evening activities, within the lavish salon designed to entertain the Deilian elite.

  Then, of course, there was me, the odd subject clad in virginal whites. “Don’t be upset with me. I didn’t arrange any of this.”

  Father’s voice rose over mine. Icy gray feathered through the chestnut hair color he shared with my brothers, and his forceful tone granted him automatic authority. “Listen to me carefully. I will not accept any defiance from you tonight, Nathan. You will present yourself as a dignified young man.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I refrained from mentioning Finn’s boorish manners. As the eldest, he held the privilege of speaking his thoughts without knowing the sting of reprimand. So once again I became the solitary recipient of my father’s ire. It was likely for the best in this instance. Conversations with my brothers often dissolved into vicious bickering these days. How would that look if Lord Rother walked into the middle of an argument? Scandalous at best.

  As much as it chafed me, I understood Finn’s impatience. The wait wound me tighter with each passing second. If it lasted much longer, the dinner would be wasted with my stomach in such knots. Lord Rother had been expected well over an hour ago. A small flutter of doubt spoke in my ear, whispering how my future husband had changed his mind. I couldn’t be sure if it would be a curse or blessing.

  The timepiece on the mantel haunted me. Each mechanical tick pounded in my ears, making the whispers echo. Never had I known such distaste for clockworks in my life. It made me want to gut the device and bring an end to its teeth-rattling rhythm.

  I could only hope our guest would arrive shortly and put us all out of our misery.

  The door shifting open broke my awkward fascination. All of our attentions turned to the butler, Samuel, as he stepped into the salon. “May I present Lord Rother Marsh Delaga III.”

  My breath stalled as the foreign stranger followed Samuel into the room, lifting his brass goggles off his eyes and settling them above the brim of his top hat.

  “Will you be changing for dinner, sir?”

  Lord Rother cast a curious stare at Samuel as he removed his headgear and leather gloves and shoved them into the butler’s hands. “No. Please be sure my man is fed. It’s been a long trip.” Our whole party stood to greet him as Mother shot an unhappy glance at my father, who ignored it while Samuel dipped his head and glided away, leaving us alone. “Forgive me for running so late, Arthur. The carriage from town was delayed.”

  “Good to see you again, Rother.” Father shook his hand as, one by one, my family greeted him with gracious platitudes without mentioning his wardrobe. While smartly dressed, his outfit was out of place for dining. Formal wear was a standard for evening events, and his attire was far too casual. If he knew, it didn’t show. He stood tall and proud, returning their pleasantries wi
th his own. I stood rooted, unsure of how to proceed.

  “And this is my son, Nathan.” Father’s introduction came with a flourish, reminding me of a carnival ringmaster, his prideful tone completely foreign to my ears. The implied praise did nothing to settle my nerves.

  Lord Rother approached me with a polite nod. “Delighted.”

  I had to tip my chin up to look him in the eye, only to watch him scan over me from top to bottom. It was impossible to tell if he approved or found my attire too unusual for words. A curled lock of his dark hair fell forward, his loose waves giving him a wild appearance compared to our stringent standards. I envied his rich suit of dark gray and bloodred, which complemented his tanned skin and unshaven jaw. His collar lay open, devoid of a tie. Mother must have been beside herself, but hid it well.

  I couldn’t read the man. Lord Rother didn’t touch me or invade my personal space. His striking features were impassive, keeping an edge of mystery about him. Regardless, with Father present, I knew the proper response.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Rother.” With a trained nod, I granted deference to him, as would be expected. My father seemed to approve.

  Finn sidled up behind me, looping his arm around my shoulders. “I imagine Nathan would be pleased with anyone who can relieve him of that chastity belt.”

  I tried not to show it, but my face flamed so hot, it had to be scarlet. My stomach twisted with the heat rising in my chest. Insufferable cretin. Mother and Father scolded Finn, but with little teeth behind it. Lord Rother seemed rather unaffected, merely assessing me with his steely gaze. Even so, for Finn to be so brazen at our first meeting was beyond reprehensible. I’d been the subject of too many of my brother’s jibes and insults over the years. I would not be humiliated like this.

  Without turning my head or raising my hand, I swung my arm behind me, striking Finn in the groin. He crumpled with a rather unmanly yelp.

  “Nathan!” Mother shrieked, staging a swoon into my father’s arms. Her fan made a sudden appearance, bathing her with a breeze she didn’t really need. It was her practiced public reaction to all things “vulgar.” Lord Rother arched a brow and peered over at her theatrics and back to me.