The next morning at breakfast I was relieved to find Edmund alone. As soon as the servants poured tea and left, his china cup rattled down into the saucer and he spoke.
It was not often he took pains to converse with me. Usually I watched his grey face, limp strands of fading grey hair nodding along with the newspaper and gossip rags he devoured. The paper remained crisply folded, he stared at me with his fingers steepled.
“I believe I need to remind you of your duties as a wife, Vanessa.”
“In three years I believe I have never caused you displeasure sir?”
“I have never asked you for anything. There is a difference. This request is for your security as well as the estates. You know that if I were to die now, you would be in a poorhouse within six months unless your family rescues you.”
“My family would never see me struggle,” I replied quickly, a flush of panic rising.
“Until a child is born, my will contains a letter. A letter addressed to every gutter press in London, and your mother, containing lurid descriptions of your affairs. Explaining why I could never take you to the London Season for fear of you being caught in the arms of yet another man. I added some wonderfully gruesome details about finding you in a whorehouse, asking to be taken by any man willing just for the pleasure.”
A shockwave raced through me to hear the grey, placid man speak such bile. A tear softly rolled down my cheek as hatred pulsed through my body. “You would ruin your own family name to take revenge on me? Tarrick Hall, the Duchy would be ruined?”
“If you don’t produce an heir I have no need for the Tarrick family name, my brother can work with the scorched ruins of your reputation. Your family won’t take you when the gossips update you from ‘missing Duchess’ to ‘Desperate Duchess’,” snickering at his own rancid amusement,
He raised a hand in mock horror, “oh! Think of your poor sister Kitty. Fresh out this season isn’t she? She will be hoping for a good match, imagine if her family is suddenly tarred with the worst kind of reputation. I am not above putting a few lines in about her trying to seduce me if you continue to play silly games here Vanessa.”
“I…how can you do this to me?”
“Because you are mine. I own your body and soul as my wife. Just because I cannot…fulfil the physical act, the rest of the world does need to know that.”
“His eyes…” I mutter, staring into my china cup.
“Exactly. We share a startling amount of physical resemblance. You are probably too young to remember but before my illness ravaged me I was a fairly muscular fellow, our hair is the same colour. It will work,” his hands trembling and struggling to hold his tea with the force of speaking for so long.
“I need…I need time to think about this. You know what you are asking of me don’t you? My honour, my dignity as a female is being traded like bonds.”
Edmund shrugged, his muscleless shoulders rising the same as a vulture's, high and edgy under his smart suit. His eyes were green but lacking the lustre of his recruited gigolo. Possibly age, or maybe drugs, it was hard to tell these days with his pain. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as some kind of spasm rocketed up and down his spine.
After his thin grey face relaxed out of contortion, into one of mere snarling pain, he almost spat the words. “Now your mother and sister are arriving today. I arranged it.”
“They are?” I cried, this was something normally arranged weeks in advance. I thought Edmund was an old duffer cooped up in his library reading textbooks, he’d been planning this for months.
“If you do not agree before they leave, I shall hand over the first copy of the letter, newly updated with some filth on Kitty before your mama’s feet touch the carriage.”
“I’m going to the stables,” I snap and get up from the breakfast table, “if I am to sign my honour away I want to at least be sure the mans not a complete savage.”
Edmund’s chuckling as I left only made my anger boil more strongly as I stormed away, my dress billowing behind me. Leaning against the wooden stable split door, Fitz seemed to have anticipated my arrival. I wore a paler blue gown, tied around the waist with a snow white ribbon. As I approached his eyes stayed on mine, a light, jolly smile on his face.
“What on earth have you got to smile about?” I snapped, not caring for any civility today.
“Your Grace,” he replied with a deep, overcomplicated bow, followed by ten seconds of hand twirling. It took everything I had not to laugh at his pitiful display despite everything. “Better I suppose,” I reply with a sulk. “Crawling on the floor begging would suit better,” making that deep, rumbling chuckle reappear.
He wore a white shirt today, the same beige leather braces and button pants. They clung to his thighs, his riding boots fitting his calves snugly.
“You know why you are here?”
“I do indeed.”
“And you are happy with this arrangement?”
He leaned forward, eyes darting for any prying servants before whispering, “I believe whatever happens I am safe in this particular situation.”
“How do you see that?”
He took another step forward, close enough for me to smell his scent mixed with hay. There was no perfumery, no lotions on his skin, just a manliness I’d never been near enough to breathe before.
“Because I am in this for my own amusement. I shan’t be falling in love and begging you to run away with me.”
I raised my eyebrow. “I have already been sorely disappointed by a man in my life, what on earth makes you think you are any different, any better than the Duke? You’re nothing but a rogue, a scoundrel of the lowest sort.”
His face screwed in confusion as if working out a puzzle. Eventually he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck and rolled his eyes. “You think you are the issue? That His Grace has left you alone because you are somehow defective?” and he broke out into a laugh, that he tried to stifle with his large, rough hand.
My anger rose to the boil again, before he could even begin to explain himself I found my hand coming towards him, planting a stinging slap against his face. Then I turned on my heel and headed back to the house.
“I can refuse this, you know!” I cried over my shoulder.
“You won’t,” he called back. “I’ll crawl!” he added, making me shake my head in frustration at the lightness he took this situation with. How is such a situation to ever be survived!
I fled back along the eastern wing of Tarrick Hall towards the main house entrance, only vaguely aware of the carriage approaching containing my mother and sister. Three years of my life in suspense, everything seemed to be happening at a gallop since yesterday.
I could barely catch my breath, shaking my hand where it had touched the rough stubble of his face. Quickly looking back he had vanished inside.
Good.
Now to survive an afternoon with my mother. Such a shame I could not give her the same treatment as Fitz. It is her meddling that has landed me here, three years of my life squandered already, where shall the next lead me.
Finally my mother and Kitty, sated with sweet tea and biscuits to kill a horse, were placed back into their carriage. With firm promises to write with our intentions for the season I waved, standing on the gravel driveway.To my left were the stables, where no doubt the irritating Fitz was smugly anticipating tonight. He declared he was doing it for his own amusement, as though I was to be some sordid tale he could brag about in a gentleman’s club in later years.So casual, so easy-going. I was wound tightly, fit to explode. The mechanism inside me, the one that kept me stationary and suspended in boredom for so long had broken it’s catch and now I itched, ached to be active. I weighed up going to the stables, if only to trade barbs with him again. Maybe I would win this encounter. Currently I believe we are even. My slap for his trickery of yesterday.Knowing this would be unwise I walked the other way. Down the driveway, the same way my mothers dark, gilded carriage with two horses
To my surprise the room is warm, lit by a roaring fire and surprisingly inviting. Edmund must have arranged this, to make the experience less miserably cold. The first thing my vision landed on was the huge bed. Unwrinkled, perfectly starched white sheets beaming at me.The images of lewd women, eyes rolling, breasts exposed rose up in my memory. Was this to be my fate tonight? “Good evening Your Graces,” and I realised Fitz was standing behind us, leaning against the wall. He had his sleeves rolled up, his white work shirt unbuttoned by one to reveal a hint of light brown chest hair on his broad chest.He had one foot up, resting on the wall. So impossibly casual I wanted to throttle him. Had he no idea how much torment I had been through to even be standing here tonight?“When you have completed breeding, knock on the door twice. I shall then come through and inspect. I won’t be fooled Fitz.”“I assure you, I have absolutely no intentions of fooling you, Your Grace,” Fitz replied,
***FITZ POINT OF VIEW*** That husband of hers is a piece of work. I knew he was peculiar when he first approached me, all shambling limbs and angry venom. I put that down to his illness. Now I know he is furious that he cannot enjoy the beauty he has under his roof. What a beauty she is. I doubt she has any idea she is one of the rarest women in England. I have done my share of Seasons, balls and grand houses but she is spectacular. Those eyes are so blue, never have I met someone whose blue eyes are warm. They are sea-coloured, as are a thousand other women of virtue, but there is a depth, a warmth paired with the deep blue hue. It is why I was such a buffoon to her. Truth be told she completely took me by surprise when she turned around. I had expected her to be a dim, insipid creature. The typical Duchess, all teeth and no chin. She turned around and I found myself resorting to childish mockery. Of course I didn't have permission to ride Figaro. In fact the bastard nag threw me
Laying still on the bed I watch the last embers die in the black metal grate. The last sparks of orange and red were extinguished. How is this the same room that a few hours ago held a heat, a gaze so powerful it took my breath away. Green eyes, a low emerald glow that thrilled me to my core. I should hate what happened to me tonight. I'm lying here with another man's seed inside me. He'd rubbed, glided inside my most private of places. The panic I felt at my own slickness washed away when I realised its natural purpose. The delicious sensation of his touch was only heightened by what my body produced. The mystery behind the expressions and contortions of the women in the gossip rags was explained. Much more of Fitz manoeuvring, gently twisting inside me and I could have found myself doing exactly the same poses. Even my nipples were stiff. Before he even touched me I could feel them brushing the cotton fabric. It felt as though my mind was catching up to what my body already knew
He is in his usual white shirt, leather braces and tan working pants. His work boots are muddied and wet from the horse fields. I slowly walk towards him, unsure of what on earth I am meant to say. I want Jeremiah to return, yet at the same time I would give anything for a moment alone with this green-eyed oaf who mocks me so. “Good morning. Those are not for you.” “Are they not!” he exclaimed before continuing to take another bite. “Shame on you, those are for poor Jeremiah,” I added, stepping ever closer to him down the long corridor of stables. He stood up and leaned against the wall, continuing to enjoy his stolen snack. “Shame on you, he doesn’t even have the teeth for eating an apple. Where is the jam, the soft honey that would suit a man of his age?” he replied, throwing the apple core into one of the horse feed bags. “I…” losing my words as his white teeth bared in a triumphant smile of victory. “Where is your compassion, he is out there fetching Amber now with his poor
I was forced to dine with Edmund in the evening. My beautiful dusky pink dress was wasted on his pallid, disinterested expression. As a pudding of soft apple pie, a crumbling soft biscuits topping was served I couldn't help smiling to myself. "Pray tell me what is so amusing about a simple dessert?" Edmund asked, the spoon juddering in his hand. There was a vibrant vein of anger in his tone. I flushed in embarrassment, had it appeared I was mocking his frailty? "Oh, your Grace, it was a mistake of mine today. I took poor Jeremiah some treats from the kitchen as I mentioned at breakfast. Except I had not considered his age. The fresh, crunchy apples I brought were more appropriate for Amber. Almost nothing I gathered he could eat." He smirked and shook his head. "Ah my dear there is a lesson to be learnt there," stopping to slurp at his custard-coated spoon. His suit glittered with gold buttons and the navy jacket sung of expense and grandeur. His frame was not filling it with the sa
The fire is intense, much warmer than last night. Edmund must have realised that the one he ordered would not last the night. That is sweet of him. Yet the thought vanishes like snow on the wind as I see Fitz. I stood at the opposite side of the room today. He is immediately in both our eyelines. Stood tall and unsmiling, his strong, rounded jaw clenched the only emotion visible was in his green eyes. Those were fixed towards Edmund. “I don’t believe I need to repeat myself. Two loud knocks and I will enter for inspection.” Fitz merely nodded, "understood Your Grace," whilst I kept my gaze on the fire. Fitz wore the same white shirt, braces and breeches as this morning. Yet this man was so different to the joking, teasing chap. Every move seemed calculated and deliberate. Edmund took his leave and I kept my eyes on the fire until I heard the lock turn in the door. The clunk of the key in the door was paired with the thudding of my heart. Like the tightrope walker, a fantastical
Mercifully Edmunds kept his inspection of me is short. I lay completely still, my hands clamped together across my stomach. My eyes were fixed on the ceiling, the cornicing and ornate fixtures of the room burned into my memory. Lifting my nightgown up and peering between my legs I conceal a shudder."Bred. Good. I shall see you in the morning.""Yes Your Grace," I answered stiffly, the delirious loosening of my body and soul has been undone. Fitz declaring he should not have kissed me left me shaken. I wanted both of them removed as soon as possible.Fitz left with Edmund without saying another word leaving me endure another night of frustration. Hot tears threatened to spill down my cheeks but I angrily wiped them away. Neither Fitz or Edmund deserve my emotions. I have misunderstood Fitz entirely. Any tenderness I thought of as his true nature, I now saw as a mask. His mocking, teasing ways were his true nature. The apple on his tongue, so surprisingly delicious, confirmed that fa