Retribution (Sebastian Trilogy Book 3)

by Rosen, Janey

  A cry of anguish leaves my lips. I desperately reach out for him. Finding his muscular arms, I clutch them and step forward until my nose bumps against his chest, the thick hair tickling my face. His arms encircle me as my tongue laps at his skin, my mouth kissing his chest hungrily. I rock up on tiptoes and kiss his neck then nibble at his earlobe as he clutches my buttocks, pulling me in closer until I feel his erection pressing into my belly.

  “Tell me what you need, Elizabeth.”

  “I need you. I need you inside me,” I mumble, my hands tangling in his thick hair.

  A growl hails from his throat and in a swift stroke he pivots us, thrusting me hard against the cold stone wall, forcing the air from my lungs. He lifts me as though I am a feather, my legs guided around his waist, my thighs squeezing to gain purchase as the darkness disorientates me still. In one swift movement he pins me in place with his muscular frame and bites at my shoulder, but the pain enflames the pleasure as he releases me just enough that I drop down hard onto his erection.

  “You bastard,” I hiss, but the anger is at myself for loving what he is doing to me and at my body for responding so defiantly. I clutch his hair, tugging at the roots so firmly that he curses against my breast, elevates my ass and drops me down even harder onto him. He doesn’t speak, nor whisper his love but his lips find mine, and his bruising kiss tells me more than words alone ever could. His teeth and his tongue declare his love and the rapturous cry as he empties within absolves me of insecurities and fears. Liberated, my soul is free to soar as I succumb to the momentary release he has given me. Spent and slick, we glide down the wall to a breathless heap on the cobbles.

  “Elizabeth,” he whispers as our breathing settles. He strokes my hair tenderly, his cheek pressed against mine.

  “Mmm?”

  “Whenever you see darkness, don’t I guide you to the light?”

  A little drowsy, but nonetheless thrown by his profound question, I reach for his cheek and stroke it with my thumb. “Yes.” My lips lightly brush his. “My world was in darkness after the accident. Your love has been a brighter light than I ever could have believed possible, but…”

  “But?”

  “There is still darkness, Sebastian, and I don’t feel I can talk to you about it.”

  “Scarlett.” He tenses and I feel his jaw set under my thumb.

  “Yes. Scarlett. We have to talk about her. I mean, really talk.” Prying myself from the weight of his body, I stand and pat my hand along the wall until I locate the light switch. Flicking the switch down, we both blink momentarily as our eyes adjust to the light. Sitting beside Sebastian on the cold cobbled floor, I take his hand in mine and stroke his palm. “I know how much you care for her and I’m not trying to come between you. You do believe me, don’t you?”

  He pulls his hand away and rakes it through his messy hair, sighing deeply. His eyes are dark coals framed by long black lashes and are etched with pain. “Yes. I believe you. I just…”

  “You just what, darling?”

  “I just don’t want to. I can’t believe that Scarlett would be capable of harming anyone. If it’s true, then where does it stop?” He pauses, mouth open. He meets my gaze, a look of shock on his face. “Where did it start? Libby?” A lone tear trickles down his cheek. I wipe it away tenderly with my thumb. He looks utterly lost. “Oh fuck, Elizabeth.”

  “I have no idea.” I sigh. “I just know what my gut tells me. What she herself told me.”

  “But you were drunk. How? How can you be sure of what she said? How can you be sure she wasn’t being spiteful? We all say things—” My index finger presses to his lips, silencing him.

  “I can’t be entirely sure, but I know how she makes me feel. I remember much of what she said, Sebastian, and I know I haven’t felt right for a while now.”

  “You think she’s harming you?” Pulling away from my touch, he regards me incredulously. “For fuck’s sake, Elizabeth. I’m here. How would she be harming you without me knowing about it?”

  Trying to calm him, I soften my tone before the conversation we must have becomes a fight. “I’m just being honest with you. I don’t have the answers, Sebastian.”

  “No, you don’t. What you have is a bunch of serious fucking allegations which are totally lacking in any substance or evidence.” His words hurt but I listen quietly. “You weren’t here when Libby was sick. You have no idea what you’re talking about. Scarlett was here. She was my rock when my whole fucking world fell apart. Is that someone who is capable of murder?” He rakes his hair again then drags his hand across his jaw.

  “I know it hurts you.”

  “Do you? How fucking understanding of you.” His profanities shock me but I can see past the anger to the hurt in his dark hooded eyes. Fear. I see fear in his eyes for the first time; my strong Sebastian is scared.

  “She’s agreed to go. If you want her to, she will leave.” He stiffens but remains silent. Sucking in a deep breath, I tell him, “I want her to go.”

  “So she’s tried, judged, and sentenced just like that?” he spits.

  “We don’t need her here. I want to look after you. You’re mine, not hers.”

  “Is that what this is really about?” His icy stare meets mine. I avert my eyes. “Fucking jealousy?”

  “No.” Tears prick my eyes. “I’m scared too,” I whisper.

  My tears dampen his anger and he takes my hand in his. “I would die if you were harmed, Elizabeth. After Libby passed, a part of me died too, and I didn’t think I’d ever be happy again. Then you…tumbled into my life, all muddy and awkward.” His lip curls at the memory. “You were the most beautiful thing I’d seen, so complex, so…difficult, yet I had to have you.”

  “And you were an arse.” I grin. He chuckles and wipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumb. “So, how do we move forward?”

  He bites his lip, and when he speaks his voice is tormented. “I have to choose, don’t I?”

  “Yes. You do. Me or her?”

  His gaze locks on mine, earnest and sincere. “Then there is no choice to be made. You are mine.” I expel the breath I have been holding, relief coursing through my body. I surrender to his waiting embrace.

  “It will be okay,” he soothes, stroking my hair, kissing my forehead. “I’ll deal with it. With her.”

  “I said she could stay until after my party.”

  “Elizabeth, it’s cruel to evict the girl before she has somewhere else to go.”

  I decide not to push him further. Gathering my clothes and dressing silently together, I feel we’ve reached an understanding and moved our relationship forward. Whatever she has done, or not done, she can no longer hurt me or my family. Scarlett will soon be permanently erased from our lives.

  Smoothing down my skirt, still in the afterglow of passion, I fetch my handbag from the kitchen. Sebastian is several paces ahead of me. Scarlett is reading the morning paper and drinking coffee at the kitchen table as though she is the lady of the house. Suppressing the torrent of anger rising within, I nod curtly when she peers over her coffee mug at me. Immediately, she springs to her feet and takes two fresh mugs from the cupboard into which she pours coffee from a percolator. I decline the mug she proffers but Sebastian cocks a brow and indicates that I should join him for coffee before running my errands. I acquiesce and sit beside him, sipping the steaming coffee as quickly as the burn will allow lest I must endure her company longer than necessary.

  “It’s bitter,” I complain. “Is it a new coffee brand?” Scarlett removes the mug from my grasp and heaps a spoonful of sugar, stirring thoroughly and sighing audibly. She just forgot to sweeten it, she tells me, but everything that girl says or does is sinister in my view.

  The drive to town seems interminably long, the traffic heavy with the onset of early tourists on the narrow roads. They have all the time in the world and no sense of direction or highway etiquette. The florist brings three long white boxes from the cold storage at the rear of the shop, and places them o
n the counter. “Tiger lilies. Beautiful vibrant orange blooms, straight from Asia,” he purrs, taking a large bloom from a box. “Smell.”

  Inhaling deeply, my senses are filled with the vision and sweet pungent fragrance of the exquisite flower.

  “There is an old legend from Asia about the Tiger Lily,” he says. “A Korean hermit helped a wounded tiger by removing an arrow from its body. The tiger asked the hermit to use his powers to perpetuate their friendship after his death. The hermit agreed and when the tiger died, his body became a tiger lily. Eventually the hermit drowned and his body was washed away. The Tiger Lily spread everywhere, searching for its friend.” He sighs contemplatively before replacing the lily in the box.

  “That’s quite a story,” I agree. “So sad, that the hermit should die through such deep love for another.” The tragedy brings a tear to my eye. Will I die through my love for Sebastian, as those I love have died?

  “Hey. It’s just a story. Lighten up.” He laughs and snaps me out of my melancholy mood. “Soak them for thirty minutes before trimming the stems and putting in vases. Tomorrow, snip them again on an angle and try and keep them cool today. Okay?”

  Having paid the florist, he helps me to load the boxes into the trunk of my car. “Have a fabulous party.” He air kisses me goodbye. “Is there anything else?” he asks. “Mrs. Dove?”

  “What?” I’m daydreaming.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Sorry, I’m fine. Thanks. Bye.” I’m so very weary, finding it hard to concentrate, my thoughts centred on love lost.

  ***

  The house is a hive of activity on my return. The great hall has been transformed into the most fabulous dining room. The long polished table has been extended to seat thirty, with Sebastian and me to be seated together at the far side. Silverware glistens against the crisp linen cloth and crystal glasses sparkle under the light of the vast chandeliers and sunlight which streams through the mullion windows.

  “Six can’t come.”

  The silver candelabra are in the shape of deer. One is moving, just very slightly, barely discernably but nonetheless it’s moving.

  “Elizabeth. Six can’t come.”

  The deer turns its graceful head and blinks up at me from the centre of the table. You’re an adorable little thing, aren’t you? It twitches its cute nose and raises a delicate hoof.

  “Elizabeth.”

  The stag next to the female deer, seeing his mate move, has decided to take leave of his mount too. Silver antlers sway and dip as the stag climbs down gracefully from the candelabra.

  “Look at me. Elizabeth.”

  “So beautiful. Look at that, Sebastian.” I point to the stag who stands proud and strong as he sniffs the air. So tiny it would fit in the palm of my hand, yet so majestic, the stag regards me cautiously. I lower my voice to a whisper. “Don’t move, Sebastian, or you’ll scare him away. Look, he’s watching us.”

  Sebastian is clutching my arms and shaking me so that my head flops back and forward. His hand snaps across my cheek. I gasp, shocked at the sudden sting.

  “He’s gone! You frightened him,” I cry, my hand rubbing my smarting cheek, my eyes burning with hot tears of frustration.

  “Fuck, Elizabeth. Oh fuck. Stop this. I can’t take this again.” He’s holding and soothing me with his soft kisses and kind words but it’s too late. It’s far too late. Moments like that will never come again, the stag will be too fearful to move. Sebastian leads me upstairs, undresses me as though I am a child. He lays me on the bed and pulls the duvet over my body then lies with me, his strong arms holding me until I fall asleep. I feel so safe, so warm. So loved.

  Through an impenetrable fog a slight figure emerges, too small to be a man and too distant to identify, yet the figure is familiar to me. It moves with the grace of a swan gliding on still waters, white as a swan too, with an ethereal beauty. As it nears me the mop of unruly hair is unmistakable. “Joe! My darling, you’re so pale.”

  “Hello, Mummy.” He beams at me with his adorable smile. “It’s your birthday tomorrow, don’t be sad.”

  “Mummy’s only sad because I miss you, little man.”

  “I miss you too, Mummy. I bought you this for your birthday.” His tiny hand holds a white feather. He puckers his pale lips and gently blows. The feather floats up into the air where it catches the breeze, twists, turns, and rides the draft before settling at my feet.

  “Whenever you see the feather, Mummy, I will be there with you. It’s my present for your birthday. Do you like it?”

  “Joe, sweetheart, I love it. It means so much knowing that you are never far away.” I keep my eyes on Joe as I reach down for the feather, afraid he will vanish if my gaze leaves his. The feather has gone. My gaze darts to the ground at my feet as panic grips me. “Joe. The feather?”

  “Oh, Mummy.” Joe giggles adorably. “The feather will come back. When I’m near you, then you’ll see the feather. Get it?” He rolls his eyes at his mother’s confusion but without malice, just utter love for me. “Have the coolest birthday ever. Save me some cake.” Joe fades away and is gone. My heart breaks anew.

  “Wait, Joe. Don’t leave so soon. Come back to me, Joe. I miss you, oh dear God I miss you…”

  “Elizabeth! Ssh, darling, you were dreaming. It’s okay, I’m here.” Sebastian is stroking my damp hair, his face etched with concern. I blink, adjusting to the bedside light. Sebastian holds me tightly and soon I hear the familiar settling of his breathing as he drifts back to sleep. I remain awake in his arms until morning light, the tears flowing silently until my pillowslip is wet through.

  Chapter 4

  Bella bounds into our room with the girlish excitement of a ten-year-old. “Happy birthday!” she exclaims. Sebastian swats her behind as she jumps on the bed between us. She plants a kiss on my cheek as my sleepy eyes adjust to the daylight. I must have eventually drifted back to sleep. My head feels muzzy and I still feel unwell.

  “It’s my birthday? Already?” I croak, sitting up.

  “Happy birthday, darling. Yes, it’s Saturday,” Sebastian confirms. “Scarlett’s made you breakfast in bed. You’re going to be thoroughly spoiled today.”

  Turning my head, I can see a tray on the nightstand; there is a plate of bacon and eggs and a single rose stem with a beautiful pink bloom. The clock next to the tray glows 9:32 in red neon. “It’s my birthday,” I say numbly, wishing the day away, irritated by the exuberance of those around me.

  “It is indeed. How does it feel to be forty?” Sebastian plants a kiss on my lips and brushes a stray curl from my eye.

  “Old,” I reply sulkily. “I had no idea that I’d feel so old at forty.”

  “Ancient,” Bella teases. “Open your presents.” She places three brightly wrapped parcels on my lap and claps her hands together excitedly. Carefully pulling at the tape, I remove the paper to reveal a box. The picture on the front shows two old clockwork ladies and the gift makes me smile just a little. “You wind them up and they race with their walking sticks.” Bella squeals and Sebastian laughs.

  “Charming.” I sigh. “Are you implying I’m one of those old ladies?”

  The next gift is a bottle of Chanel No.5 perfume. “My very favourite, thank you, darling.”

  Bella proffers her cheek for a kiss, which I give gratefully. “Open Sebastian’s present next,” she enthuses. Unwrapping the slim square package, I see Sebastian hold his breath.

  “What have you done?” I ask, carefully lifting the lid of the red velvet case. Tiffany & Co. Oh my God.

  “Do you like it, darling?” he asks hesitantly.

  “Like it?” I gasp. “Sebastian, I love it.” The necklace rests on cream satin, the diamonds shimmering brightly as the morning sun reflects on each tiny facet. The perfect diamond necklet supports a teardrop shaped ruby the hue of fire and cranberries. Its beauty takes my breath away.

  “It belonged to my grandmother,” Sebastian tells me, as he runs his index finger over the satin. “My g
randfather gave it to her as a wedding gift in 1929. I know she’d love you as much as I do and want you to have it.”

  “Darling, it’s too much, you already gave me the choker. But…it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Then you haven’t looked in the mirror today. It’s no match for your beauty.”

  “Please.” Bella laughs. “You’re going to make me hurl if you keep this up.”

  Embarrassed, my cheeks blush hot and red. He really does love me.

  “Wear it for me tonight,” he whispers as he nuzzles my ear. “It will look incredible with your red dress.”

  “Yes. I’ll treasure it. Thank you.”

  Bella snatches the box from my hands and her eyes widen at the shimmering jewels. “Sick. This is worth a mint.”

  “Bella,” I admonish. “Show some manners. The sentimental value is what is important.” Bella does look contrite but only fleetingly as she hands back the gift. After a moment or two of contemplation she starts to speak but thinks better of it. I look quizzically at her.

  “I just wish…I wish Joe and Dad were here for your birthday.” Bella’s eyes mist. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, I contemplate telling her about my dream but decide not to, certain that she and Sebastian already think I’m losing the plot. Ignoring the painful knot that twists in my stomach, I plaster a false smile to my lips instead.

  “I know, sweetheart. I wish that too, but I’m sure somehow they are here with us.”

  My thoughtful Sebastian breaks the painful silence that follows with a ruffle of both our heads. “Come on, my two beautiful girls need to get their lazy backsides out of bed. Eat your breakfast, Elizabeth. Scarlett cooked it specially. I want you downstairs in fifteen. Scarlett’s taking you to the hairdresser for a makeover, her birthday gift to you.”

  Scarlett drives me to my appointment with a hairdresser in Padstow as I’m still feeling weak, unable to rid myself of this virus, or whatever it is making me feel this way or whoever it is. Although it’s an effort, I intend to make myself look as good as possible today, after all, I’ll be meeting many of Sebastian’s friends for the first time and want to make him proud of me.