Antonia didn’t know what to say.
“May I sit here?” She motioned to the seat across from hers.
“Yes, of course. Those two are empty.”
This was the first warm smile Antonia had seen in days—perhaps since Rafael left.
“I’m the Contessa Miranda Prozano. But please call me Miranda.”
They shook right hands lightly, Antonia ever so glad that it was her left hand that was cuffed to the seat.
“Antonia del Gallo Reyes.”
For a moment, the woman looked as though she recognized the name, but she stopped short of saying so. “Why is such a pretty face so solemn?” she inquired gently. “Perhaps you need an ear to listen?”
“Thank you, Contessa…Miranda, but why would you…”
“Oh, I’m being forward, aren’t I? I always am. Carolina says I’m a terrible snoop. Carolina is my daughter.”
Antonia smiled. She didn’t think anything this lovely woman said would offend her. She was the kind of woman who moved through the world with such grace that she knew the right thing for every occasion, and now, observing the misery Antonia tried to hide, attempted to alleviate her apparent distress with a genuine offer of comfort.
“I saw you with that man.” The Contessa looked at her worriedly. “He’s not your husband, is he?”
“Oh, no,” Antonia said.
“But he’s handcuffed you to your seat. Am I right?”
Antonia’s heart leapt anxiously and she blushed. “I’m sorry you saw that.” She slightly lifted her left cuffed hand so the woman could confirm the truth.
“Oh, my! You’re not a criminal, are you?”
“No, ma’am.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not a criminal at all. If I’ve committed any crime, it’s marrying the wrong kind of man.”
“Ah, I see.” She nodded as if she were weighing this information very carefully. “So, it’s your husband who’s had you handcuffed?”
“That is his man, Miguel, who was with me. He’s taking me to Cartagena to visit my mother.”
“And he’s afraid you’ll runaway?”
“It seems so.”
“And would you run away?”
Antonia thought through her answer for some seconds and finally, just because she had to get the truth off her chest, blurted out, “Yes. Yes, I would!” She realized how loud she’d said that and lowered her voice, “Oh, but please don’t tell anyone. Please. I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”
“My dear, your secret is safe with me. Women have to stick together in the face of bad husbands and lovers. Believe me, I’ve had my share, although never one who was man enough to cuff me to a train seat.”
“I probably should have stood up and shouted when Miguel put the cuff on my wrist, but it surprised me—well, not completely surprised me…”
“Oh, but you were caught off guard,” the Contessa said.
“Yes, I was.”
“So, if you were free to run away, where would you go?”
Antonia thoughts turned instantly to Rafael. “I’d find my lover.”
“Ah, you have a lover.” The woman was impressed.
“Yes I do.” She was happy just thinking him. “But there are those regrettable marriage vows to Rupert and I see no way out of them. We, my lover and I, were found out—a nosey maid, who had her cat eyes on my lover, saw us in bed together. She told Rupert, and here I am being sent away while my husband makes certain that I’ll never see Rafael Francisco again.”
“My, what a terrible shame. You’re in love with that man—Rafael Francisco?”
“Oh, I am. I love him with all my heart,” she said, as her eyes filled with tears.
“You poor girl. Why not just divorce? You know this is not the 16th century.”
“In my world it is,” she stated tersely. “It could never happen. My family has money, which is now Rupert’s to manage, and even if I gave it all to him—which he can have, he’d still want to torment me. I don’t know why he hates me so. I thought the marriage started out as expected, but then he changed. Or maybe he didn’t change, maybe his heart has always been hard, and he was just putting on an act. Yes, I think that was it. He’s a very demanding and controlling man.”
“Yes, I can see that he is,” the Contessa said knowingly, while her mind traveled through her memories, gathering facts from here and there and going over them with rapid efficiency.
“Oh, I doubt you know the kind of controlling I’m talking about.”
“You think not? You’d be surprised what a woman of my age has seen.” She smiled slyly. “I know some men beat their wives for sexual sport.”
Antonia’s eyes grew wide.
This was just enough reaction for the Contessa to know the source of the young wife’s troubles. “That’s happened to you, hasn’t it?” Her directness surprised Antonia.
“Please, I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I’m sure you don’t, but there are ways to extricate yourself from men like your husband.”
“No, not Rupert,” she spoke with certainty. “He has money; he has power and I’m a wife, just a silly little wife with her head in the clouds. No one is going to believe me; besides, who would I speak to? He keeps me trapped in the house, trapped on this train,” she lifted her cuffed hand, “trapped in a life I can’t leave. I see no one. Even my mother won’t help. I think she’s as controlled by her lover as I am by Rupert. But she loves it for some strange reason; I guess it’s a sexual thing for her. In her mind, I’m supposed to love it too.” Antonia could not believe how frank she’d suddenly become. But she had nothing to lose at this point—and likely nothing to gain. At least this lovely, empathetic woman was easy to unburden to.
“This is quite a story you’re telling, Antonia. I can see why you should feel trapped, but there are always ways.”
“Maybe. But I just can’t see any. Rafael was supposed to be working on a plan—he went to Madrid to consult with an attorney, but Rupert found out about us before Rafael returned and now he’s slammed the door in our faces. I’ll never see him again; Rupert will make sure of that. He says I’m an adulteress, so I have no rights.”
The Contessa’s deep brown eyes shone benevolently, but behind them was a darkness that glimmered like a fire waiting to be fanned into flame. She reached out and took Antonia’s hand, deliberately choosing the cuffed one. “You can’t give up, my dear; you can’t despair,” she said earnestly. “There are always ways. Trust me on that, better yet, since you don’t know me, trust yourself. There will be a way!”
She was so sure of herself, so very certain. Of course, she could be; it was not her life. But somehow, the Contessa Miranda Prozano’s confidence rubbed off a bit.
When Miguel returned to his seat, he looked at the fancy woman in the seat across from them.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“This very kind woman has befriended me. Just a way to spend the time. She likes the same kind of books I do and we were just sharing our thoughts on this new Laura Saldano romance,” Antonia adroitly explained, referring to the paperback in her hand. You care to listen in? It’s a very sweet love story.”
She had made sure that her left hand was hidden from view, as Miguel made sure to look. He groused a bit, but decided that the pairing was innocent enough. He left them to themselves, taking a seat across the aisle and one row up. He faced Antonia, so that when he wasn’t napping, his eyes were trained on her. He was close enough to hear their conversation if he bothered to listen.
Chapter Fourteen
“My daughter will be here soon, sir. I was wondering…” Honoria leaned against the patio door and watched the Marquis, searching for an answer to her question in the man’s mood even before she finished speaking.
“What is it?” He looked up from his paper.
“I-I hope this isn’t too forward, but I wondered what Rupert might have said to you about Antonia, why the sudden rush to have her visit us?”
�
��You don’t want your daughter here?”
“Oh, I very much do. It just seems so hurried. Or am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong. Reyes’s housemaid discovered Antonia in bed with one of his workmen—Rafael something or other.” She remembered Rafael Francisco well. “She’s coming here to get away from the situation while he handles the young man. I suspect that dispensing with the lover won’t take long, probably doesn’t even require Antonia be here, but Rupert has his ways.”
“Yes, he does,” Honoria agreed. “Does he expect you to punish her?”
The Marquis could see the worry in the woman’s eyes. “Come here, Honoria,” he smiled and motioned her to him.
She moved almost giddily to him, slumping to her knees at his feet and laying her head on his knee to accept his gentle caress. She then looked up, “Did Rupert ask you to punish her?”
“No, he didn’t. And if he did, I’d refuse him. It’s not my quarrel. It’s his.”
She smiled relieved. “You are so very different from Rupert,” she noted for the hundredth time.
“I should hope so. Reyes’s darkness is riddled with unsettledness, a disquiet no man should live with. I suppose it’s no surprise. His father was a no account playboy and he was raised by a brutal woman, a nanny, who beat him. His mother was little more than a whore. He adored her and she left him with the old biddy every chance she could to play with her jet-set boyfriends. It’s no wonder he hates women and takes his wrath out on every female who enters his house.”
Her eyes lit with understanding. “Yes, he does hate women, doesn’t he? It’s not really pleasure he’s after, just his sadistic lust. I am so sorry I supported Benito’s decision to see Antonia married to the man.”
“It would take an intimate association with him to understand this. I doubt Benito had that.”
“But you have no intimate association with him, do you?” “No. Rupert overstated our relationship at his dinner party—although it was a good show. In the past, our paths would cross occasionally. There is a circle of men with shared desires for dominance—Benito was part of it. Reyes had been on the fringes for sometime, although he was always considered a bit of a nonconformist. His ways were suspect, not according to a gentlemen’s protocol. My friend, Roberto Ruiz—you met him last week?”
Yes, she remembered the man.
“He had at one time counseled Reyes. He knew his history. He was the first man I thought of when I heard that Rupert was seeking a position for his wife’s mother.”
“So, you are in the circle of Benito’s fellows?”
“Only peripherally. In fact, I met your husband only once. Not a particularly memorable occasion.”
“Frankly, sir, I think of Benito as more severe than you. He had a terrible dark side like Rupert, but he knew that he could pacify it through me and be whole again. He never failed to love me after the worst of our sessions. We were both fortunate that what he gave me in pain and humiliation became the strongest aphrodisiac. That’s why we were so suited for each other.”
“Perhaps, I’m not hard enough on you?”
She blushed. “Oh, I don’t think that at all.”
“Humiliation is not a game I enjoy the way Reyes and your Benito obviously did. I will do it, if I think the situation is called for. But concerning you…you give me no cause. And concerning your daughter…it’s my guess that she’s had a good deal to handle in this marriage to Reyes. Perhaps she needs a break from the harsh treatment, the cane, the whip and everything that has brutalized her.”
“Oh, I agree with you; I’m so glad you think that way.”
“I’m sure that Rupert has punished her enough for her infidelity.”
“Most certainly he has.” She remembered clearly her miserable days and nights in Rupert’s dungeon.
“In fact, I don’t think that Antonia has had the chance to find her own way in sex,” the Marquis suggested. “She was given a role to play. Who’s to say she was suited for a life of such compelling submission?”
Honoria mulled the thought a moment. “You may be right. How stupid of me to believe that she would have the same kind of sexual relations with her husband that I enjoyed with Benito. I never even thought that there was any other way but submission.”
“You both have been too sequestered.”
“I never thought life could be any different.”
“Well then, fate has thrown you a challenge now, hasn’t it?”
A puzzled look crossed her face. “You’re saying that I have a choice?”
“Yes. I’m saying that. You went with me because you were told to, but you can leave any time you wish. You can live your life on your own if you like.”
“Really?” She laughed nervously. “You know, that really scares me.”
“I imagine it would.”
“But the truth, sir, sometimes—often, really—I do like you to beat me…”
“Yes, I know that.”
“And I feel so full, so happy when I’m under your control. I can see that there’s another side of me, a more independent one, but I think I like this less independent one better.”
The man nodded. “That’s what I figured. But let’s remember, Honoria, from now on, it is your choice to be here. No one is coercing you; no one will keep you from leaving.”
“I won’t leave. I know that.”
“That’s fine. I’ll let that be your answer now. But if you change your mind…”
“No, please. I can’t think about that…not now.” A painful anxiety rose in her she had to quash. “I love it here with you.”
He nodded. “And you can trust that if you think you’re not getting enough rough treatment, milady, I have a most satisfying remedy for that.” His eyes glimmered with some mysterious intent.
“Ooo, my sir.” Her body was all-aquiver. “I think you should beat me tonight.”
“Oh? You’re telling me when I should beat you?”
“No, never, sir!”
“Never is right. As long as you make the choice to stay with me, you give up the right to choose the hour, the day, the time and the nature of your torment. For tonight, we have your daughter to think about.”
“Yes, we do,” she readily agreed.
Chapter Fifteen
Rupert heard the car drive up and come to a stop in front of the house. He opened the heavy oak door immediately, rather than smugly let the woman ring the bell.
“Ah, Contessa, how lovely to see you again.” He took her hand and kissed it lightly.
“And you are forever the gracious host,” she said. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
The beautiful woman smiled. Rupert fondly recalled this grand dame from a party some years before. If he remembered correctly, the Contessa was a randy one too, with breasts as fair as beach sand and a dark bush of hair between her thighs that gave off a heavenly perfume. He remembered thinking then, how lovely it would be to have her strung up in his dungeon where he could properly administer the treatment the rich brat deserved.
She dressed the part of wealthy society slut she played so well, in her low-cut navy blue dress with the crisp white trim and the matching stiletto heels. Her broad-brimmed hat was the latest fashion from Madrid—at least he thought he’d read that somewhere. Oddly, at that moment, the Contessa reminded him a bit of his mother with her congenial, alluring style; the way she made her rounds of polite society with her thighs wide open.
“I’m delighted to have you here. Just a bit surprised. I didn’t think that I was on your circuit of friends.”
“Well, it’s not exactly friendship I’m after,” she admitted with a blush.
“No?”
“No, I have a favor to ask.”
“I see. What is that?”
“Could we, perhaps…” she motioned to the interior of the house.
“Certainly.” Rupert ushered the woman into his formal living room. The patio doors were wide open, the afternoon glow making the room almost shimmer,
while a glorious breeze filled it with the scent of the gardens’ earthy aroma.
“What a beautiful room!” The Contessa walked around the space admiring his art, while Rupert waited for the woman to settle down and state her business.
“Perhaps you’d like to ask your favor?” Rupert finally interrupted the woman’s musings.
She turned around abruptly and faced him, sighing.
“I guess we should sit,” she said. She chose a gold brocade silk settee, nestling into one end, rather primly for a woman of her confidence. She waited some seconds before continuing, finally saying with a blush starting to creep up her cheeks, “This is very difficult.” She stopped and considered again, laughing lightly. “I guess I should just spit it out…I have been for some time…quite intrigued by the um…seamier, more hmm… what word am I looking for?” She took a moment to think and then finally spit out, “The baser side of sexuality. I’m aware that you practice with some skill a certain sadomasochistic activity.”
“Yes, I do,” he answered somewhat suspiciously.
“Well, in thinking back over my sordid past, which is no secret, I realize that I’m still missing that particular experience. Ordinarily most women would never consent to the kind of horrid things we hear about, but for me, I’m afraid I can’t let go the fantasy. It frightens me, in fact.” She did look worried. “Some nights, I’m overcome by the passion of it…I mean you just can’t satisfy this kind of need in your head. At least I can’t.” She stopped, looking at him desperately. “If just once I could feel the strike of a cane, a whip, the rough slap of a hand, hear some barking command to humble me…I think I could finally settle myself. You think so?”
“I think that’s possible,” he replied, seeing her nervous hands fidget in her lap. “Excuse me, I don’t know where my manners are, my staff is gone today, would you like a drink or something?”
“Oh, yes, that would be lovely.”
Rupert moved to the drink cart and poured them both a glass of scotch. “Straight okay?”
“Yes, perfectly.”
He sat down this time beside her, closer to her warm body. He could feel the beating desire swelling up all around her. They sipped their drink, making eye contact to set the stage for what came next.
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