“You’re not actually going to defend Rother’s behavior?”
“Not in the least. I owe Rother my life and for that he’s earned my loyalty. But there are limits and he’s sorely testing them. If I could, I would start the evening over, so it could end differently. Do you still want to leave Delaga House?”
“There’s no point. For better or worse, this is my home. I don’t know where else I would go.”
Alexandra paused and gave me a sad smile, knowing how my repeat of her words came to be. Smoothing my jacket with quick short strokes along the seams, she gave me a nod of approval. It gave me a little of the strength I’d need to cross the threshold.
As she cupped my face in both hands, her beautiful features hardened, and her sharpness returned. “If you need anything, you come to me or Blythe. Anything. You have my word that nothing like this will ever happen to you again. I won’t allow it. Ever.”
“Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate your candor. But just like when it happened, you can’t be next to me every moment.”
Alexandra’s hands dropped at my revelation, melting her resolve. It was a harsh truth, but still a truth. I took her hand in mine, uplifted by the touch of reverence in her eyes.
“But for now, I would love for you to accompany me to the dining room. Even if there’s talk.”
Arm in arm, Alexandra walked me down the hall, the contact smoothing my ragged nerves enough to move forward. I feared the reactions of others, what they might know, and how they might view me. I worried enough to stiffen as we approached a young male member of the staff. His expression brightened as he caught sight of us.
“Good morning, Nathan.”
I was taken aback by the unexpected greeting. Worse, I found myself ashamed to admit I didn’t know him by name. Other than Alexandra, no one ever spoke this kindly to me, and it was largely my fault. Blythe’s comments about the staff’s perceptions were proof. The unseen barrier between lords and staff was as substantial as a wedding veil, and my part in standing behind it needed to end.
I hoped my smile didn’t seem weak in my surprise. “Thank you. Good morning to you too.”
My stomach growled, and Alexandra tugged me along with that sultry chuckle of hers. We saw other staff as she escorted me, and while there was hardly a flood of exuberance from the lot, a new, polite civility existed with even simple acknowledgments.
All my growing calm faded as we entered the dining room to find Rother seated alone at the table. Thorns of misgiving pricked at my composure, but I was determined not to allow my anxiety to bleed out.
“Good morning, Nathan. We were waiting for you.”
Without Alexandra’s guidance, I might not have found my chair across from my husband. I was more amazed to find my voice sounding far more collected than I felt.
“You didn’t need to, but thank you.”
Rother shifted in his chair, assessing me with his gaze. Was he expecting something confrontational? Given our brief history, it wouldn’t be uncalled for. A slight twitch quirked his eyebrow. Rother was trying to read my mood, but in all honesty, I barely understood it myself. How could he hope to?
The tension broke as the cook burst into the room with a food-laden platter in each hand. Full-figured, with her dark hair tied in a bun, she was a comforting presence as she circled the table with confidence. The kitchen and dining room were her territory.
“Ah, Mister Nathan. I’m so glad you’re here. You worry me, not eating. I make you extra, to keep up your strength.” She tutted at me with her thick accent, and fine creases at her eyes softened her usually stern face. A plate with luscious pastries, cheese, and bright fruits floated to the table before me. I barely heard it touch down.
“This looks delicious, Dahvra.” I took pride in knowing her name. It was smart to know who prepared your food day to day. Especially the woman who cooked the meals for everyone in Delaga House daily. Praising her skills was easy. If Deilian nobles knew of her ability, they would fight one another to touch the leftover scraps. I should have made more effort to know the rest of the staff.
Dahvra smiled and patted my shoulder in a doting manner. “Such a good boy.” The smile vanished as she moved on. Scowling, Dahvra dropped the second plate in front of my dining partner with a noisy clatter. “Rother.”
I flinched at the daggered glare he threw Dahvra’s way, preparing myself for an explosive reaction, but Rother did nothing. No reprimand or sharp comment. He merely dipped his head to her with a cautious gesture of thanks, which she didn’t return. Tossing her head, she headed back into the kitchen.
The silent exchange confused me. While the staff’s attitude toward me shifted in one direction, had it truly shifted in the other for Rother? Alexandra’s words took on more solid meaning. Did the murmurs of mutiny in the household pose a true threat to Delaga House?
It was far too early to be sure. Even if Rother’s influence over the staff had unraveled, it hardly placed us as equals.
Now I found myself trying to assess Rother as he’d done me. Squaring himself in his seat, he poised to eat. Rother looked positively uncomfortable as he threw annoyed glances at Alexandra, who continued to stand by my side.
Exhaling hard through his nose, Rother spoke, staring at his disheveled platter. “If it’s no trouble, I’d like to dine with my husband alone.”
A line of tension flew through Alexandra, drawing her taller. The bright color of her hair fit the hostility radiating off every inch of her body. It rivaled the intensity I’d seen from the bondage room, leaving me no less alarmed. An unhealthy shiver washed over me. I wasn’t prepared to watch another conflict. I’d barely survived the last.
Reaching out, I covered her hand with mine, hoping it might quell the fire. “It’s all right, Alexandra. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s what I told you earlier. It would happen at some point, sooner or later.”
Alexandra deflated. She couldn’t watch me every moment, and my interactions with Rother needed to begin sometime if I were to have any opportunity to regain my self-respect. Squeezing my shoulder, she gave me a quick nod of acceptance. The renewed glare she shot in Rother’s direction was a gift uniquely for him.
“Remember what I told you last night, Rother.” Her sharp tone was laced with ice.
The tic in Rother’s jaw illustrated the restraint he exercised. “I haven’t forgotten.”
His eyes flashed between us more than once, and I took some perverse gratification in the displeasure he found in Alexandra’s allegiance to me. But I kept it off my face. Being alone with my husband continued to bring back foul memories, and who knew what the rest of the meal would bring.
I refused to say a word. While I might guess, I couldn’t be sure of the specifics behind Alexandra’s comment to Rother. It was impossible, however, to miss the threat behind it, or how it lingered in the air as she left my side. I didn’t feel safe alone with him, even in a house full of people, but I didn’t want him to see my nightmares or know they held power over me. So we sat across from each other with only the sounds of cutlery and chewing to break the mausoleum silence that had fallen. Rother was scrutinizing me without staring me down. His eyes were fixed on his plate, but the subtle tension in his body said he was taking in every detail around him.
My appetite helped keep me seated. It had been days since I’d eaten, and continuing to refuse food would get me nowhere.
The food, of course, was marvelous. Dahvra was a culinary genius. In my zeal, I took too large a bite of pastry. The swallow’s tension pulled at my wound and dragged an involuntary whimper out of me.
“I’m sorry for needing to take such drastic measures with you.”
If there was going to be conversation during the meal, Rother would have to instigate it. But this… was classically him. An apology wrapped in redirected blame. It sounded convincing and contrite, and if I didn’t know he made his fortune by reinforcing the fantasies of others, I might have
accepted it outright. He was my husband, after all. But in reality, fantasies were nothing more than lies.
“If you hadn’t forced my hand, it wouldn’t have been necessary. But you needed direction.”
And the apology proved to be a fantasy. The room lost all warmth as I understood the implication: he wouldn’t hesitate to do something drastic again. A chill settled into my bones. It did nothing to dampen my rising anger, but I refused to let it free. Releasing my frustration would gain me nothing. If anything, I guessed he was goading me. Remembering my decorum lessons, I calmed my reaction by sticking my fork into my palm to distract me.
It couldn’t, however, extinguish my sarcasm. “Forced your hand? Strange. I recall my hands were lashed to the cross at the time.”
“To prove a point. Knowing I’d send men after you wasn’t sufficient.”
“I overreacted and made a mistake the first time. I wasn’t planning to leave again.”
Rother sampled Dahvra’s cooking between sentences, keeping an infuriatingly casual tone. “You’d already ruined my trust once. I had to make an example. I didn’t enjoy having to go so far.”
“Yes. I can see how very difficult this must be for you.” I stabbed my palm once again to deflect my anger. I would not allow him to break my self-control. I would not lose what little threads of self-respect I’d managed to weave, but it was so hard.
“You can be upset over everything that happened, but in the end you’ll see it was for the best.”
I scoffed. “So you’re saying this was all done for my best interests?”
“Nathan. Tell me you aren’t better off for knowing what a hypocrite your father is. Tell me how important the values of being a Deilian lord are. To be so far above the people of Marisol while they hide their secrets behind the veil of criticism and control.
“You no longer need to be ashamed of who you are. You’re free from the bullshit where you’re made into a dirty slur on your family simply over who you’re attracted to. Can you really tell me you’d rather go back to the people who were only too happy to engage you to a man they saw as beneath them? Did they agree to give me your hand for your benefit or theirs?
“You’re a man of Marisol now. I’ve broken all your ties to your former life. It’s time to shake off the smothering past and revel in the new one at my side.”
I wished I could simply accept his words, but the searing ache in my neck reminded me of the fantasies he made come to life every evening. The false scenarios and liaisons. The lies.
“You scarred me.” I barely restrained myself from screaming as I relived the moment.
“I freed you.”
“And Harston?”
“It had to be done. You can’t expect me to allow a man who would openly conspire against me to roam my halls, can you?”
My volume dropped to a near whisper. “He was my friend.”
“You’ll find others.”
How bizarre, the half-truths pouring out of him and the conviction with which he expressed them. It was difficult to divine whether he truly believed his assertions or if his deceptive talents were aimed at confusing me. I’d underestimated Rother. His skill at manipulation rivaled the upper echelon in Deilia, coupled with the fact he was willing to go to unforgivable lengths to win.
I hated how he’d severed my connections to my homeland and how much lighter I felt without Deilian society’s moral judgments lording over me. Part of me wanted to cry, but the other part wouldn’t give him such satisfaction. No matter how enticing his silky argument, the fact remained: I was as much a prisoner here as back home. Free? Only in metaphor. Reality told a different tale.
Rother calmly wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin and gave me a handsome grin. “You’ll see. Once you accept my rules and how they will help you be the husband you were meant to be, we’ll find happiness together.”
The meaning within his calm words and congenial visage couldn’t be mistaken. Accept my rules. No matter what, my life would only be pleasant as long as I played the good spouse. Well, if I could survive the degradation of being my father’s leper, I could learn to do that too.
I nearly choked down a piece of fruit along with my pride. “Perhaps you’re right.”
Right now there was little I could do. Fleeing Delaga House wasn’t an option. I had no idea how to hide myself or properly function outside these walls, and I would only be dragged back by the men who would wish Rother stay silent about their vices. Life in Deilia? No. That idea evaporated the day I married. My father’s revelation in Alexandra’s dungeon only cemented it.
To keep myself safe with the implied threat hanging over me, this was where I’d stay. I would find a way to embrace the carnality of this house while planning my eventual future. There would be no more sudden bursts of ill-planned escape. No more flashes of bad ideas. I had to plan in longer terms and stop thinking and behaving like some sheltered debutante. I would learn my new home, find a way to prepare, and when the time was right….
Rother held the advantage, but I was damned if he’d keep it forever.
I could wait. I had the time.
Chapter 14
SIXTY-FOUR SEPARATE disks sat poised to randomly interchange their places along the main cylinder. With the clockwork-driven spin, their carefully positioned studs would strike the interior metal comb, playing tones that blended into hours of music to fill the Delaga House salon. Its construction was ingenious. The coiled spring inside would continually reset, providing uninterrupted play until stopped. Employee and client alike would be entertained through the evening as coin and assignations changed hands.
This should have been a pleasant distraction, except the damned thing didn’t work.
Disgusted, I tossed my monocle on the floor. I’d viewed each gear and piston from every angle and magnification. Precisely balanced, each delicate movement fit perfectly in place and performed when tested, yet still refused to function as a whole. Each machination appeared correct, yet wasn’t.
Three days ago Rother had knocked and entered the bedroom. It was considered mine now and where I spent most of my time.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” I hadn’t moved from the chair I’d sat slumped in. My mother would have been appalled by my lack of posture.
“What are you up to?”
“Reading.”
Rother’s gaze found the only volume in the room, and it sat on the occasional table outside my reach. “Your book is closed.”
“Is there something I can do for you, Rother?” I’d rubbed my temples, wishing him out of my haven.
“I was wondering if you’d be coming down this evening?”
“I’m not sure I’m feeling up to the public. I’ll continue to take my meals up here for now.”
“For how long? You’re missed downstairs.”
Staring into my husband’s eyes, I hadn’t been able to answer. I hadn’t anticipated the melancholy that struck me as I came to grips with everything Rother had done for my own good. I found myself unwilling to leave the bedroom unless I couldn’t avoid it, and Rother had been gracious enough to allow me my grieving. I needed to devise a way to balance the scales between us, but I’d yet to concoct a plan with any value. However, this pall covering me made it more and more difficult.
I’d stood to create some distance, only to be distracted by a scuffling growing closer. Blythe had kicked the door wide, carrying the huge music box from the salon.
“Why in the world are you dragging that beast into my bedroom?”
Blythe set it down with a solid thud. “It’s busted.”
“That’s not really an answer to my question.”
Rother stepped to the machine and ran his hand along its intricate carvings painted in hues of amber and gold. “It stopped working the other night and none of us know what to do with it. The clients like the music selection, and I hate to be without it while entertaining. Normally I’d hire a clockworker to come and sort it out
, but I thought with your skills and expertise, you might enjoy the opportunity. Since I know how much you enjoy clockwork mechanisms and such.”
I’d been taken aback by Rother’s thoughtfulness. “I… I don’t know….”
“Come on, princess,” Blythe had growled. “I’ve already slugged this up three flights. You won’t come out, so I had to bring it to you. Don’t make me take it back down.”
When I first arrived, Blythe’s rudeness would have tempted me to push him down those same flights of stairs. Now, even his prodding lacked his usual playfulness. He didn’t care about the difficulty of carrying the device. The brute could have run it up and down three more times without breathing hard. No, the darkened mood was my doing, and it bothered me to pass my sorrow on to him.
“Put it over there.”
Blythe hefted the music box aloft and carried it over to where I pointed. “Good choice, because I wasn’t taking it back anyhow.”
“I’ll take a look, but I’m not promising I can do anything for it.”
Rother stepped closer, lowering his voice into something more cautious. “The music box or coming out into the rest of the world?”
“Either.”
I’d eaten dinner alone in my bedroom that night, where I felt safe.
Eventually, with nothing better to do, I’d started on the malfunctioning music box. The work gave me back a bit of the spark I needed, and I felt useful for the first time in… days? Weeks? It was hard to tell.
I still hadn’t decided what to do about Rother other than acquiesce to his requests, which were far less demanding than I’d anticipated. He’d vacated the bedroom, sleeping elsewhere in Delaga House since the day Harston left. Polite and charismatic, Rother once again reminded me of the debonair gentleman I met in Deilia. It was as if he was finally courting me, while continuing to impress me with his authority.
Much like the music box, every pristine piece of my future sat in place and made a lovely painting, but the whole thing stank of forgery. Suspicion was a hard mistress to control.
Innocence and Carnality Page 18
