Innocence and Carnality

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Innocence and Carnality Page 19

by J. Alan Veerkamp


  Rubbing my eyes, I blew out a lungful of air, attempting to vent my frustration. Now was not the time to yet again obsess over my husband’s motives. Enough of that had been accomplished while I drowned in self-pity. I would be worthless if I couldn’t find myself.

  I picked up the monocle and sat down once again to tackle the music box. Mere minutes passed before a knock at the door interrupted my efforts. Rother let himself in without invitation, because even though he’d given me space and the bedroom to myself, as far as he was concerned, everything in Delaga House belonged to him.

  Rother stopped alongside me, but kept a polite distance. “It’s time for you to see the doctor.”

  “Why do I need to see the doctor?”

  “He and I agreed you needed a return visit to assess how your neck is healing. Remember? I told you about it earlier.”

  I stared unfocused into the open music box, dropping the monocle into the vacant space at the bottom inside its cabinet walls. My work was done for the day. “Has it been six weeks already? I hadn’t realized.”

  “We need to be sure there’s no risk of infection. Blythe will be waiting downstairs to escort you.”

  “The doctor’s not coming here?”

  Rother ran his hand over my head with a gentle stroke. “No. I thought you might like to go out for a change.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Rother.” I gave him a cordial smile. It was the only appropriate response to what he saw as a generous gesture. “Let me clean up a bit and I’ll be right out.”

  “Don’t be too long. The carriage is on its way.”

  With a casual step Rother exited, closing the door behind him. While the announcement was delivered with relative care, there was no mistaking the underlying order. At no time did Rother give me an option to say no to the appointment.

  With another deep exhale, I blew out my anxiety and put away my tools. A quick tour through my wardrobe helped me find a few items to complete my outfit, which I laid out on the bed. I would not be out on the street poorly dressed.

  In the en suite, I washed my face and hands, refusing to look in the mirror as I scrubbed away a variety of machine oils. I didn’t need to see the exhaustion in my face or the aching stress around my eyes. Every day I spent too much effort not looking at the healing burn on my neck that necessitated this trip to the doctor.

  I dressed as quickly as I could, embarrassed how the lack of a valet made the task so arduous. I’d spent too many years not taking care of myself with the mistaken belief I never would. That would change. It had to.

  As expected, I opened the door to find Rother waiting. His gaze roamed over me, paired with an appreciative grin. When he presented me his arm, I accepted out of civility. It was my role, after all.

  “Escorting me through the house? Were you afraid I’d rush out the back door?”

  Rother chuckled as he led us down the hall. “The thought had occurred to me.”

  “I know you mean well, but you can’t expect me to be excited. Apothecarians are not my favorite kind of people.”

  “Why is that?”

  I kept the memory of how my relationship with my father first began to crumble due to my apothecary testing results. Somehow I knew it would have likely disintegrated on its own, but the key point in my history had led me to Lord Rother Marsh Delaga III. “I’ve never been terribly eager to be so vulnerable in front of a stranger.”

  “I imagine that’s a common reaction amongst Deilians. If it’s any help, he’s a doctor, not an apothecarian. And he’s examined you before.”

  “I hardly see how that counts. I was unconscious after you burned me.” Rother’s arm stiffened under my hand as if he prepared for an argument. “But I do need the examination. I’m of no use to anyone if my health fails.”

  “I’m glad you can see that.”

  Rother relaxed, seeming content with the brief nod and mannered smile I offered him in reply. It was safer than pointing out where my need for a doctor came from in the first place.

  We sauntered through the halls, Rother making gracious hellos to the staff. Each man and woman we passed eyed us both, assessing the status of our marriage in silence. The most recurring commentary was some form of how nice it was to see me up and about. I hadn’t realized how much time slipped away in my absence. I watched everyone’s reactions carefully, noting to myself how the mutinous tension between Rother and his employees had ebbed since my branding.

  While I’d sulked away rarely emerging from my room, Rother had weeks to sway them into a new sense of complacency. I wished I could have come out sooner, but a period of mourning was necessary, and the whole exercise had made me lose track of time. However, I knew the key to my future meant learning how to foster Delaga House out of being in a constant state of conflict. While I needed allies amongst the staff, keeping them at odds with Rother would give me no opportunity to improve my situation.

  I would be what Rother wanted. Within reason.

  As we walked and talked, I found myself mimicking all my mother’s behaviors in the fashion she spoke with my father, from the superficial platitudes to the amiable veneer, and a somber thought crystalized for me. My mother never truly loved my father. She’d accepted her marriage as little more than a business transaction. And she allowed the same fate to fall on me. It was no wonder I avoided the mirror. I doubted I could stomach the risk of seeing my parents’ relationship glaring back at me.

  Inside all the Deilian decorum and etiquette was a well-crafted skill at duplicity. As nobles, we lauded ourselves model citizens and pinnacles of virtue, leading the lower classes with a show of how to behave and aspire to greatness. However, we were the most convincing of liars at heart. We spent our lives deceiving ourselves about the fallacy of our existence.

  But my adoption of the innocent facade was a matter of survival. My husband couldn’t be trusted. He’d already wounded me in more ways than one. Did other members of Deilia’s upper class live the same truth? How common was this within the practice of arranged marriage? How many men and women I knew growing up were secretly miserable as they held up the pretense? What a dreadful fiction to imagine so many might be imprisoned within their imaginary lives of luxury and privilege.

  Except it wasn’t fiction. It was my reality.

  My mind raced with these contemplations, yet my face revealed nothing as we descended the stairs into the main hall. More of that natural deception at work. All the random thoughts ceased as we approached Blythe before the front door. He was one of the few people in Delaga House I knew I could trust. I’d never thought I’d look forward to seeing the brusque miscreant with his scars and coarse manner. My time in Delaga House had clearly ruined me. What would Mother think? Imagining her shrieking explosion as I let Blythe pummel my brothers would be worth the admission.

  Oh my. How crass. This house really had changed me.

  “Glad you could join us, Nathan,” Blythe said.

  It was refreshing not to hear a pitying tone from him. It wasn’t often I’d come out into the sun and spoken to the others, and for all their honest intentions, the rest of the staff couldn’t control how it wove into every word they said to me. It was one of the things I liked about Blythe.

  “The whole event is in my honor. How could I possibly refuse?”

  Blythe opened his pocket watch, checking the time. “And on time. Aren’t you more the fashionably late type?”

  “Perhaps next season I’ll take my time and make a grand entrance.”

  “If you get a good report, perhaps there won’t need to be another for a very long time,” Rother said.

  I gave a little snort. “You’re just trying to get on my good side.”

  “Yes, I am.” Rother’s smile was borderline seductive. There was the man I met in Deilia. Charming and self-assured, it was a shame he was also the man I was still married to.

  If his kindness was for my benefit, it might have beguiled me once again, but I knew better. Rother’s focus would always be Del
aga House. Everything he did was connected to making his business flourish, myself included. He’d come from nothing and built a small empire. Maintaining his staff and preventing a complete revolt was the only reason he needed to court me. They’d already turned away from him once due to his overbearing nature. He wasn’t ready to test their resolve again so soon, because he knew they were watching. It was the only circumstance protecting me from more potential abuse. Rother was playing a game to save his interests. Well, I knew how to play that game, too, and not as the person in a position of power.

  Alexandra entered the hall, followed by a small group of staff, including Vivian, carrying cleaning supplies and heading for the salon. She slowed down as she approached, stopping to smile and stroke my hair. Out of everyone in Delaga House, Blythe and Alexandra were the only persons whose concern didn’t make me defensive.

  “You look much better out in daylight.” Even outside business hours, Alexandra was striking, a rich purple coloring her full lips. My blush rose, hearing the honesty in her compliment.

  “Sometimes he needs a nudge out into the real world,” Rother said.

  Tilting her head, Alexandra’s gaze went cool. “I wasn’t aware he was allowed out in the real world. What’s the occasion?”

  “A silly doctor’s appointment.” I shook my head, making light of the whole thing. Alexandra’s dominant nature and house position made her the only person willing and able to openly and successfully challenge Rother. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Well, try to enjoy yourself out in the fresh air.”

  “I will. It will do me good.”

  Vivian stepped forward with her hands on her knees as if addressing a toddler. Even her voice took on a childish condescension.

  “Oh, it’s so cute when the puppy gets taken out for a walk.”

  Alexandra’s warning was soft but potent. “Vivian….”

  I raised my free hand in a calming gesture. “It’s all right, Alexandra. She can’t help it. From what I’ve seen of her clientele, I’m fairly certain Vivian’s been treated like a dog by far more men than I ever will.”

  Blythe barked out loud with his usual lack of subtlety. Vivian took a hostile step toward me but halted when Alexandra clamped a hand to the back of her neck, and if I wasn’t mistaken, given Vivian’s wide eyes and high-pitched yelp, a handful of her hair.

  “Perhaps we should discuss your other duties for this afternoon,” Alexandra said to Vivian. “I would love to see you at dinner tonight, Nathan.”

  I nodded. “I think that sounds like a lovely idea.”

  With a sharp turn, Alexandra made bold steps with Vivian in tow. The other staff members smartly followed along. Blythe continued laughing out loud as they departed. In truth, he hadn’t stopped, and it pleased me. When had I come to enjoy his unsophisticated nature? I glanced at Rother to find him grinning. He typically approved of my sharp wit when it wasn’t aimed in his direction. “I’m glad to see you’ve lost none of your spirit over the last few weeks.”

  In all honesty, I was happy I could find it as well.

  “Why do you continue to keep that awful woman here?” I might have been playing my part as obedient spouse, but it was perfectly in character to ask. Plus, I was dying to know the answer.

  Rother released my arm and let his hand rest at my lower back. “She has her role in the scheme of things, like all of us.”

  “I imagine you could find at least a dozen willing women who could procure you as much money as she does and be infinitely less trouble.”

  Without responding to my comment, Rother turned to Blythe. “Go outside and wait at the carriage. I’ll be bringing out Nathan shortly. You’ll be going straight to Dr. Perrin’s office and straight back home. No side trips.”

  Blythe’s laughter died out and he stood up tall. “Sure thing, boss.” He caught my eye, looking for an unspoken permission. I gave it, making sure Rother missed the slight nod.

  When Blythe left, the door sat ajar. Seeing the outdoors gave me fleeting fantasies of running out into the open and dashing out into street, far, far away from all things Delaga House, knowing full well how fruitless such an act would be. Stepping outside without Rother’s consent would leave a rift in the trust I was forging. And I needed that trust. I stood by his side, unwilling to fracture our precarious roleplay.

  “You’re willingness to participate pleases me, Nathan. I hope this is a sign of improvement. The last few weeks concerned me.”

  “I believe I’m something more like myself now. I’ve just needed time.”

  “And I tried to give it to you. I moved out of the bedroom and gave you your space as a show of faith. I haven’t touched you or made a carnal request of you in weeks. Even the staff can see I’ve been making an effort and done without.”

  “You’re telling me, with your appetites, you haven’t partaken of anyone else to soothe your loneliness?”

  “No. I’ve been as celibate as a monk.”

  I was convinced my brow quirked up to my hairline, framing my disbelieving stare. “Oh please. What would you know of a man who leads a virtuous life? You’ve made your fortune luring men and women into debasing themselves for profit.”

  Rother chuckled. “All right. A poor analogy, but I’m telling the truth. Ask any of the staff. They’ve a newfound respect for you. Surely you’ve noticed. I doubt any of them would be willing to break that.”

  I glanced over to the salon, listening to the sound of brushes scrubbing the floors. “Vivian would.”

  “Vivian would also be the first to run back and tell you if I was lying. There wouldn’t be time for it to become a rumor.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Some secrets don’t hide well here.”

  I sighed softly. “I suppose you’re right.”

  His hand drifted around to my waist as Rother stepped in front of me, softening his voice. I couldn’t ignore how handsome he was: the intense eyes and the stubble strengthening his jawline. “I married you because I want you at my side in all things. Hopefully soon you will once again stand by my side during business. I’ve been having a difficult time explaining your absence to the clients. I can only make so many excuses.”

  Oh, Rother. He’d been doing so well. For weeks he’d resembled a proper gentleman. Nothing my family would accept, mind you, but something respectable. So careful and so considerate. So confident in his success, in one moment he’d reduced me to a trophy he needed to improve his business. I didn’t need a reminder of how my disappearance from his side could be construed as a weakness and damage his standing.

  I worked hard not to show my disappointment. It galled that part of me craved the man who’d introduced me to physical pleasure. Nothing would make me happier than to erase all the horrific days and start fresh, but Rother was the man he was. There would be no changing his capacity for bad things.

  I shuddered as Rother drew close, his hand caressing my cheek, his lips close enough to take mine. “In spite of all our disagreements, I’ve missed my husband. I’ve missed your warmth in my bed, and the feel of you under me. Hopefully soon, you will invite me back into our bedroom and I will show you how I intend to pleasure the man I covet.”

  His scent invaded my world, reminding me of days and nights filled with indecent acts my mother couldn’t possibly imagine. Acts my body craved. Rother’s gaze bored into mine, and my pulse raced as his breath heated my mouth. I found myself almost leaning forward to complete the contact. Before I could, Rother pulled back, looking rather satisfied with himself. My cheeks were red-hot, and I tried to slow my breathing before I humiliated myself.

  “Blythe is waiting,” he whispered.

  I didn’t say a word. With his hand at the small of my back, Rother led us outside to meet the carriage while I chastised myself. Despite all the indignities I’d suffered at Rother’s hands, I was still attracted to my monster of a husband.

  Chapter 15

  IT WAS no secret the Deilian elite never set foot
inside of a doctor’s office. To do such a thing was reserved for the lower classes and highly frowned upon. Physicians were scorned by the apothecarian profession who continued to cater to noblemen and royalty even as the medical field flourished in the wake of the Deilian plague, before I was born.

  I never understood the appeal of the antiquated profession.

  On closer study, it made little sense to make such religious use of men whose skills were part alchemist and part tribal medicine man. Steeped in the past, apothecarians balked at any attempt toward innovation to their craft. It was common knowledge they wielded enough ability to be useful, but their social status was what kept us at their doorstep. The Monarchy’s fanatical attachment to apothecary traditions spilled down to those houses who wanted to remain in his royal good graces.

  At least that’s what my mother told me. She had her shrewd moments mixed inside her vacuous habits.

  EVEN AT fifteen, sitting on the apothecary’s table made of fine leather and dark, stained oak, I’d seen how his disdain, or boredom, suffocated the room. The man’s sneer had never wavered as I waited to complete the test required of every Deilian aristocrat prior to our presentation to the Monarch. I remember thinking how odd to be so imperious without being actual noble stock. But I’d said nothing as he’d taken samples of my blood and other things a proper gentleman didn’t speak of aloud.

  The office had been dark with limited gas lamps for him to work by. I’d wondered how successful he could have been, being so gray and fragile with his trembling hands doing the delicate work. Whatever work he performed. A great deal of secrecy hovered over the role. He’d mixed the samples with chemicals from endless rows of stoppered bottles lining the shelves, combining them, using odd equipment that had made little sense to my clockwork-inclined mind. My natural curiosity had burned against the sour vibration he continued to broadcast. It had flared into an inferno when his mouth curled into a disturbing smirk.

  “Well, well, well. This certainly ought to liven up your coming out, boy.”

 

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