Retribution (Sebastian Trilogy Book 3)

by Rosen, Janey

  He moves behind me, removes my choker and loops the necklace around my throat, fastening the catch at the nape of my neck. The diamonds dance around my throat in the fading sunlight, the redness of the sunset reflecting on the stones. The brilliance of the ruby compounds the effect that the necklace is ablaze with sparkling embers of fire. I caress the enormous gem, so perfectly matched to my crimson gown.

  “You take my breath away.” He sighs deeply, his eyes burning into mine in the mirrored reflection, his hands resting on my hips. He kisses my bare shoulder, sending shivers tracking down my spine. “Have you any idea how much I love you?”

  He loves me. My insides do somersaults. I’m the luckiest woman in the world. If only Joe could have known you, you’d have been such a wonderful father to him. “I love you too. I know you think I’ve been a little crazy recently, but I don’t mean to be. I do love you.”

  “Hey,” he murmurs. “Crazy or not, my love for you won’t change. Now put on your mask. We need to go down and greet our guests. They’ll be arriving any minute.” Sebastian takes a gold hatbox from the top of the armoire and carefully takes out two masks. His is a simple silver mask, secured with elastic, which fastens around his head. He looks like the Lone Ranger; I giggle and he pouts. How I love Sebastian, the little boy. Mine is an altogether different mask. It looks antique although I can’t be sure if it’s old, or treated in a way to give the impression of age. It has a cream ceramic face, ruby red lips and painted Cleopatra style eyeliner with the eyes missing so that I can peer through. Black feathers tumble from the hairline of the mask so that, when I hold it to my face by the elegant handle, it appears I have feathers in my hair; it’s very dramatic and theatrical. Slipping on my black Jimmy Choo heels, which I suspect was another purchase made by Scarlett, I follow Sebastian downstairs.

  Scarlett, dressed in a stunning black evening gown, with simple black diamante mask, hands us both a chilled glass of champagne as we wait in the hall to greet our first guests.

  “You look stunning, Scarlett,” I tell her amicably, holding the flute to my lips, behind my mask. Damn, this mask is going to prove tricky.

  “Not as stunning as you look, Mrs. Dove. I’ll fetch the canapés.” She’s decidedly cool despite the compliment she pays me.

  “Mother!” Bella calls from the top stair. Spinning round, I catch sight of Bella, gliding elegantly down the stairs in a pale gold long sheath dress which clings to all her curves. My daughter is a woman. When did that happen? She gracefully holds a gold mask to her face and holds out her other hand as though she is a movie star making her grand entrance on the red carpet. I have never felt so proud of her as I do at this moment. Ruth follows behind her in gorgeous emerald green 1950s inspired cocktail dress with black mask, her skirts rustling as she dramatically takes one exaggerated step after another, hips swaying.

  “Wow.” Sebastian gasps. “I thought there was only one belle of this ball. You’re both almost as beautiful as Elizabeth.”

  “Hey.” I punch him lightly on the arm. “I think my daughter and friend just upstaged me for that title.”

  Sebastian indicates to a waiter to bring more champagne, while I head to the kitchen to chase Scarlett with the canapés.

  Navigating past the numerous hired staff preparing the feast, I find her in the pantry. She’s concentrating on adding a sprinkling of fresh tarragon to a silver tray of smoked salmon blinis.

  “Scarlett. The guests are arriving, please hurry with those,” I say curtly.

  She turns and hands me a blini. “This one is for you to try, Mrs. Dove.”

  Taken aback by her consideration, I pop the salmon treat in my mouth and savour the horseradish and crème fraiche. “It’s delicious, Scarlett. Thank you. Please bring them through.”

  There are so many new faces, all hidden by the façade of a mask. Sebastian is the perfect host. Introductions are concise and jovial and, on the whole, our guests are delightful. I’m so very weary and nervous, but try extremely hard to remember names and to ensure the waiting staff top up glasses and serve canapés. Marcus and Becky arrive late, blustering in with profuse apologies. Their son Theo’s jaw drops when he spies Bella, and the two are immediately inseparable.

  “Dinner is served. Please make your way through to the great hall. Masks may be removed for dinner,” our butler-for-the-night announces at eight-thirty. The gaggle of guests moves slowly to take their places at the expansive dining table, where white butterfly name cards indicate where they should sit. Sebastian and I take our seats last. I’m feeling tipsy already, regretting the second glass of champagne, and I pull the tablecloth accidentally when I sit. Thankfully nothing spills and nobody notices, except Sebastian who places a reassuring hand on my knee.

  “Don’t drink too much,” he warns sternly.

  I roll my eyes at him in exasperation.

  “Did you roll your eyes?” he hisses, a smirk playing on his lips.

  “I may have inadvertently done so,” I confess.

  “I may have to inadvertently slap the eye rolling from your pretty face, then. Later.”

  The threat makes me wet with anticipation.

  The man seated to my left is telling a tediously unfunny joke to which I laugh politely and slightly too vociferously. Ruth, seated to his left, is then subjected to endless dreary tales and I can hear her sigh, poor Ruth. Meanwhile, Sebastian captivates the table with light conversation and stories about his ancestors whom, by all accounts, were a colourful if debauched lot. I’m smiling to myself. I see where you get your own kinkery from.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please be upstanding for a toast to the birthday girl herself. Happy birthday, Elizabeth.” The butler urges everyone to their feet and the whole room raises a glass and sings a very out of tune version of ‘Happy Birthday’ to which I blush hotly.

  “Speech,” they all cry in unison.

  “Say something, darling,” Sebastian prompts as everyone sits.

  “No,” I whisper. “I can’t. You do it.” Taking a long gulp of white wine, I try to make myself very small in my chair, hoping the attention will move away from me, but Marcus pings his crystal wine glass with his fork impatiently. Sebastian glares at me, urging me to address the room.

  Oh crap. How embarrassing. Whoa, I’m dizzy. Standing shakily, I take another glug of wine to steady my nerves and the room falls silent. All eyes are upon me expectantly, except Bella who is staring into Theo’s eyes as he whispers something to her.

  “I don’t know you all,” I start, hesitantly. “But Sebastian has told me a great deal about many of you.”

  “It’s not true!” a man heckles loudly.

  “I’m just so grateful to you all for coming this evening. I hope, in time, to get to know you all properly.”

  The tiny silver stag on the candelabra steps down from his mount and leaps gracefully across the table, landing in a lady’s lap. I’m transfixed watching the shiny creature prance about while the lady seems unaware of it. I’m so very grateful that the stag has once again graced me with its beautiful display that I’m rendered speechless. All I can do is to watch in awe.

  “Elizabeth.” Sebastian’s voice startles the stag; it stands stock still, sniffing the air, ears pricked forward.

  “Uh, I was saying…sorry, thank you for the gifts that you’ve so generously given me and I’ll try to write to you all this week to thank you personally.”

  The stag has returned to the candelabra where he melts back into the filigree base and is still. I avert my gaze. Concentrate, Beth. You’re not going mad. You’re not going mad.

  “Did anyone else see that?” I ask the room.

  Sebastian is pulling me down onto the chair. He looks frosty, his eyes molten. The room is silent. “Elizabeth. Darling. Drink some water.”

  “I don’t need water,” I hiss. “I told you not to make me stand up and do a speech.”

  “You’re drunk and you’re embarrassing me,” he rebukes in a low growl.

  Polite chatter res
umes and the following courses are served without further embarrassment on my part.

  Ten o’clock strikes on the grandfather clock in the hall, and we are all instructed to re-mask, then ushered through to the morning room, which has been cleared of furniture and a wooden dance floor laid. The room looks magnificent, the tiger lilies displayed in all their glory in tall vases on pedestals. Swathes of fabric in gold, burnt orange, red and black drape from the ceiling forming an exotic marquee over the dance floor itself.

  Our guests, replete and slightly drunk and resplendent in their masks and finery, appear to have few inhibitions and in no time the dance floor is shaking with the moves of the dancers and vibrating with the beat of the live band.

  Sebastian is being decidedly cool toward me since I apparently humiliated him at dinner. I decide he is being most disingenuous. It is after all my birthday and he provided the champagne and wine, knowing that it goes straight to my head.

  “What a fabulous party,” Ruth gushes excitedly. “So many interesting people and I think I’ve got a couple of leads for the business. Terry and Barbara someone are looking for a senior manager. I’ve given my business card. Then I was talking to a pompous man called Paul, who said his investment company needs some personnel so he has my card too. It’s all good, Beth.”

  It’s difficult to concentrate on what Ruth is saying because the room keeps shrinking most disconcertingly. I don’t recall it being this small. Perhaps because of the tented dance floor it appears reduced, but that doesn’t explain why I can physically see the walls moving inward. I grasp Ruth’s arm, alarmed at the speed with which the room shrinks.

  “Do you see that?” I ask her, my eyes wide with fear.

  “See what? Beth, what’s the matter?” She sounds fearful, so she must see it too.

  “The room. It’s closing in on us. Something weird is going on here. Fuck, we’ve got to get out. Get everyone out before we’re all crushed.” My eyes dart from wall to ceiling to floor, to the people dancing who don’t seem to care.

  “Beth! Listen to me. The room is not shrinking. Do you hear me?” She’s shaking me. Why does everyone shake me, like I’m nuts or something? Shaking me will not make the room stop shrinking.

  The people in masks are looking at me. Staring. Weird grotesque masks made of snakes and blood and amidst them all is Sebastian. He’s dancing with Scarlett, holding her close, his lips whispering against her ear, oblivious to the danger which is befalling us all. What’s he whispering to her? How much he loves her? Fuck them both; let them be crushed!

  “Beth, stop it! You’re scaring me. What’s happened to you? Is it grief? Oh shit, where’s Sebastian?”

  She’s looking around for him but he’s right there on the dance floor. Oh, he’s gone. I catch a glimpse of Scarlett’s black dress in the hallway. I need to follow her. Need to catch them together, confront them. Pulling free of Ruth, I make haste after Scarlett. I feel guilty leaving Ruth in danger but she’s a big girl, she can take care of herself. Ruth tries to stop me but I break away, and the masks watch me run.

  The swish of black satin vanishes through the door to Sebastian’s study making it apparent that he’s taking her to the chamber. They’re moving fast and I’m finding it difficult to keep up, dizziness and nausea threatening to overcome me. Through the study I run, my hip catching on the corner of his desk painfully, and onwards to the steps down to the cellars.

  Clinging to the rope handrail, I descend each stone step with trepidation, yet with a steely resolve to finally discover the truth about them. As each step takes me nearer to the chamber of pain, I realise I don’t actually want to find them together for to do so would shatter my entire world and compound the loss I have already suffered. Yet, my overwhelming desire to know the truth forces me forward.

  The ancient door creaks under my hand, revealing the first chamber—the chamber of pain disguised as a wine cellar—is empty. Onwards to the far door to the smaller, circular chamber, I creep. I hear noises beyond the small oak door, the sound of a cane, lashing across flesh.

  My trembling hand is gripping the latch so tightly that my knuckles blanche. My body is clammy, my legs leaden. Taking deep breaths, I try and stave off the imminent blackness that threatens to consume me. Do it, Beth. Open the door. You have to know.

  Chapter 6

  Blackness blurs my vision as the room spins. Blinking rapidly and on the cusp of hyperventilating I take a tentative step into the small chamber. The smell of sweet vanilla incense fills my senses, making me nauseous. Candles flicker to my left, casting an ethereal light across the circular bed, over which Scarlett is bent. Her black satin dress is hitched up high exposing milky white buttocks streaked with purple red stripes. Her hands clutch at the red silk sheet. Her head is down and she’s pushing her bottom up to meet the lashings.

  “Yes. Oh yes. Harder please, Sir. I beg you. Please, Sir,” she beseeches.

  Sebastian is looking at me squarely, his arm held aloft, clutching the cane. He’s changed his mask and now bears the demonic face of Satan himself and his voice has morphed into a carnal growl.

  “Watch us, bitch.”

  Scarlett laughs shrilly. “Don’t waste your time with her. She’s a crazy spoiled slut.”

  “Why are you both doing this to me?” Bile rises. I’m going to be sick. “I hate you. You’ve lied to me,” I sob, my entire body trembling uncontrollably. The blackness almost obscures my vision entirely. I can’t see him clearly anymore but I hear him.

  “You’re next, my fucking little whore. Lift your dress and bend over the fucking bed. DO IT. NOW.”

  “No. No. I loved you. You’re breaking my heart.” My legs give way and I sink down onto the cold stone floor, welcoming the support it gives me. He’s pulling me up by my hair. No, leave me alone. It hurts. The words won’t come out of my mouth. My legs grow weak again. A sharp slap stings my cheek. Down on the cold stone again. Shapes. I can see shapes, greys and blacks against the light. A large black shape is next to satanic Sebastian and I think the shape strikes Sebastian who falls onto the bed. The black shape and a smaller grey shape move to me, and the huge black shape scoops me up. It’s so strong I feel safe in its arms. I give in to the darkness, my heart broken. I want the darkness to possess me, not wanting this life anymore.

  Joe’s tiny hand strokes my cheek. He’s sitting on the bed beside me, smiling adoringly, his expression one of impish mischief.

  “Good morning, little man. What are you up to?”

  “I’ve come to see you again, Mummy. I’ve been away to a really cool place.”

  “Have you, darling? What was it like there?”

  “Amazing, Mummy. Daddy said I had to come and see you because you’re poorly.”

  “That was thoughtful of Daddy, but Mummy’s just tired. Mummy’s coming to your special cool place very soon, and then we’ll be together again. Won’t that be fun?”

  “No, Mummy. I miss you, but you can’t come yet. Daddy said I have to remember to tell you you’re not mad. It’s the lady. Daddy says it’s the bad lady. I don’t like the bad lady, Mummy. I want her to go away.”

  “Sebastian loves the bad lady, darling. That’s why Mummy is going to come to the cool place.”

  “Daddy says it’s the lady. He says it isn’t Sebastian.”

  “I know, Joe, but grownups are confusing. Know that I miss you so very much. I’m so happy you’ve come to see me. Thank you, darling.”

  “That’s okay. I have to go now, Mummy, but I’ll come back and see you again soon. I liked the picnic you had, by the way. You didn’t have my favourite brownies, though.”

  “It was a lovely picnic. Next time I’ll make sure there are a dozen brownies just for you.”

  “Yummy, thank you. Oh and I’m cool with people going in my old bedroom, Mummy. Bella can have my console.”

  “Are you sure, Joe? It’s still your room.”

  “No, Mummy. I’ve got an even more amazing room now. One day you’ll see it.”

&n
bsp; “I’d like that, Joe. I’m glad you’re happy.”

  “I’m really happy, but it makes me sad to see you poorly. Get away from the bad lady, please, Mummy.”

  “I will, darling. I will. Try not to worry, Mummy’s a big girl.”

  “Bye, Mummy.” He brushes my cheek with a feather light kiss.

  “Don’t go, Joe. Please don’t go.”

  “I have to, Mummy. Daddy’s come to get me.”

  “Oh. Okay. Joe…”

  “Yes, Mummy?”

  “Tell Daddy I’m sorry. Tell him I did love him, I just didn’t realise it at the time.”

  “Daddy says he loved you too and try not to worry, just be safe.”

  The fog lifts sufficiently for my eyes to focus on Sebastian perched on the side of the bed.

  “Go away,” I plead, pulling the duvet over my head. He tugs it down and peers at me.

  “Elizabeth. Darling, I’ve been so worried. Thank God you’re awake, you’ve been having nightmares and hallucinations.” He’s tenderly laying a cool flannel on my forehead. I have a pounding headache.

  “You disturbed Joe. How dare you.”

  “Joe’s gone, darling. You’re sick but I’m going to get you the help you need.”

  “Joe. Was. Here.”

  “Okay, Elizabeth. Joe was here.”

  “You don’t believe me, you think I’m insane.”

  “No. I think you are missing Joe very much.”

  “Of course I’m bloody missing him, but he was here. I don’t care if you believe me or not.”

  “If you say Joe was here, then Joe was here.” He wipes my brow, his eyes clouded with pity.

  “You all think I’m mad but I saw the two of you. You and…her. All these months, you’ve lied to me.” My voice is laced with hysteria as hot tears tumble down my cheeks.

  He looks crestfallen. He leaves the flannel on my head and runs a finger down my cheek, tracing the watery tracks.

  “Don’t touch me.”