Ward: A Dark Romance Page 15

  If I am a good girl, I will only receive the strap on my nipples for a few strokes before Richard licks my pussy and fills me with his cock.

  If I have been a bad girl, by remembering things I shouldn’t or using bad words, or scolding the servants, then I am whipped between my legs till I cry before he forces me to beg him to penetrate my bottom hole to make it end.

  If I’ve been a very bad girl, he uses my mouth like a pussy till I remember my place.

  The worst was when he threatened to bring me to that awful asylum for more treatment. I never knew what I did to deserve it, but I did know I’d do anything to avoid going back there.

  Looking down, I saw two bright red crescent moons against the pale skin on the upper curve of my right breast. His bite mark. “I think we should choose a high-necked, lace collar dress for this evening, Parker.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “I hope his grace will be pleased. I have finished The Young Wife, or Duties of Woman in the Marriage Relation by Mr. William Andrus Alcott. Did you know he is a distant relation of that sensational author Louisa May Alcott?”

  “I didn’t, my lady.”

  After raising my arms so she could lower the dress we chose over my head, I recited what I had learned while she administered to the row of countless buttons that went down the back.

  “It was a marvelous book. He speaks of how a woman should be devoid of intense nerves and strive to always speak in calm, reserved tones but only when spoken to and one should never, ever offer an opinion lest your husband think you are trying to make him uneasy with your show of intellect.”

  Parker stopped to give me a strange look.

  “What is it?” I spun around, alarmed. “Please tell me there isn’t a tear or stain. I mustn’t be late for dinner. Richard has invited guests.”

  “No. No, it’s fine, my lady,” said Parker, although her brow was still furrowed. As she straightened my shoulders and once more had me be still and face the mirror, she looked at my reflection from behind. “Lady Elizabeth… are you happy?”

  I laughed. “What a silly question, Parker.”

  “Are you?”

  Thinking for a moment, I remembered my instruction. “For a woman to seek happiness for herself is selfish and unworthy of her sex. Her happiness should lie in her obedience and subjugation. By showing appreciation and respect for her station and gratitude toward her generous and thoughtful protector and guardian, happiness is achieved.”

  Spinning me around, Parker gave my shoulders a shake. “I had no choice!” she whispered feverishly. “He knows things about my past. It would harm my family if it got out.”

  “Parker, are you quite well?” I asked, concerned. “Perhaps his grace should have Mrs. Higgs administer a cold water therapy? While I confess, I don’t like it, I know they are done to cool the heat of my hysterical mind and are only done for my own good.”

  “Dammit, Lizzie! Stop talking like that!” she yelled. “Please, listen to me!”

  “Parker.” Richard had entered the room. Parker immediately let go of my shoulders and lowered her head. “I believe cook was requesting some extra assistance in the kitchens since we have a guest this evening,” he said in his usual dark, controlled tone that always made me shiver. “I will see to the rest of Lady Elizabeth’s toilette.”

  With a curtsy, Parker started to leave the room. Richard grabbed her by the upper arm and said something too low for me to hear. Parker paled but nodded faintly before leaving.

  “Richard, I think we should have Dr. Swede and Mrs. Higgs look in on Parker.”

  Richard approached me. “Don’t worry, my love. I will have her taken care of. Now, let me see my beautiful ward.”

  Lifting my one arm, he spun me in a circle so I could display my elegant yet modest evening gown. The bodice was made of emerald silk to match my eyes. It was decorated with raised embroidery and trimmed with black sequined net. It had a full and draped sleeve above the elbow but tight at the forearm, helping give me a slender waist silhouette that was all the fashion according to The Ladies Magazine, August 1894 edition that only just arrived so you know it was of the very latest fashions all the way from Paris.

  The best part was it was of my own design! Richard took one of my drawings with him when he had to leave on a business trip all the way to London and had it sewn by a dressmaker there. He says that perhaps one day he will show me the sights of London.

  I was nervous at the prospect. I hear the city was quite cluttered with noisy carriages and big buildings over four stories high and people shouting at one another. Richard also told me there was a madman running about someplace called White Chapel, killing women. The newspapers have started calling him Jack the Ripper. I told Richard until that man was caught, I wasn’t stepping foot anywhere near London. He just smiled.

  “You look stunning as always, my love.” Then he raised his eyebrow and gave me another once-over. “But I think something is missing.”

  Upset that he didn’t find complete pleasure in my dress, I quickly turned back to the mirror to see if there was a button missed, or perhaps a curl out of place. I didn’t want to look slovenly like Hester, ‘The Slovenly Wife’ from The Ladies’ Garland. Hester did not show enough concern for her appearance and pleasing her husband and it led to both of their ruin. It was a cautionary tale I always tried to keep in mind.

  Richard reached into his dinner jacket and pulled free a small black velvet case. I began to bounce up and down and clap my hands. I did so love when he gave me presents. Opening the case, I saw a stunning emerald and gold brooch. It was almost the size of my palm. The clover-shaped pin was an intricate design of delicate gold filigree dotted with tiny emeralds. Suspended from the brooch was one large emerald the size of which I had never seen before.

  “Oh, Richard!” I breathed.

  Taking the brooch out of its case, Richard took a step closer to me. I inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne. As always, I felt a little lightheaded when he was close. I had long stopped wondering if it was from fear or desire. Confusing thoughts like that only led to unhappiness and pain. It was much more agreeable to push all those thoughts away and focus on Richard and what he wanted me to think and do.

  His warm hands reached past the delicate lace fichu of my bodice. The back of his fingers brushed my skin as he secured the pin in place but not before the sharp end briefly stuck me. I hissed through my teeth at the pain, which was quickly followed by a tingling sensation between my legs. I couldn’t remember a time when pain didn’t arouse me.

  Richard says it was one of the things that will make me the perfect wife one day.

  Turning back to the mirror, I admired my reflection.

  Everything was in its place.

  Everything was as it should be.

  I took Richard’s offered arm and we went down to dinner.

  “Lord Radfoot, I’d like to introduce you to my lovely ward, Lady Elizabeth Larkin.”

  The gentleman took my hand as he bowed low. He looked vaguely familiar but I wasn’t sure from where and quickly put it out of my mind. I’ve learned that thoughts like that only lead to severe punishments.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Radfoot. Thank you for dining with us this evening,” I responded, making sure to keep my voice light and pleasing as the books instructed. Men did not like shrill or loud women.

  “The pleasure is all mine. It’s good to see you again,” said Lord Radfoot as he gave me a wink.

  I turned my head up to Richard, confused.

  “I believe Hutley is giving us the nod to go into dinner,” said Richard evenly as he walked in front of Lord Radfoot with me in tow. Richard was a duke. Lord Radfoot was only a marquis, as I understood it. So it was only fitting Richard go into dinner first.

  “Why did he say, good to see you again?” I whispered to Richard as we walked a few steps ahead.

  “Pay him no attention.”

  I knew better than to continue questioning him.

  D
inner was a strenuous affair.

  It was a shame because cook really put out a magnificent selection of lovely dishes. I thought my favorite was the spinach and nettle soufflé but Richard told me that my favorite was actually the veal escalope with mushrooms in a cream and sherry sauce. It seemed odd to me because I couldn’t recall actually ever eating veal before but I must defer to Richard on these things because my mind could not be trusted. If he said it was my favorite it must be so.

  While I tried to focus on cutting my food up into tiny bites and to slowly pace how I chewed, a necessity because of my tight corset, I couldn’t get Lord Radfoot to stop trying to engage in conversation with me.

  He kept sending me knowing looks and speaking in riddles as if we were both in on some private joke. I was a little surprised his disgraceful behavior wasn’t agitating Richard’s quick temper but rather quite the opposite; he seemed to look pleased. In fact, if I wasn’t mistaken, it was almost as if Richard was goading him on.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling that this whole evening was some kind of test.

  I rubbed my temples. I just wanted it to be over so I could retire to my rooms and wait for Richard to command what pleasures he wanted from my body that night.

  A lady must always make herself agreeable and available.

  It was a relief when I was allowed to retire to the parlor. The men would join me after their brandy and cigars. While I waited, I decided to work on my embroidery project. I was sewing Richard’s monogram into several handkerchiefs. Mrs. Higgs said she had never seen such fine and delicate stitching. I was quite pleased with her praise.

  It wasn’t long before I heard the murmur of voices just outside the door. I quickly put away my woman’s work and rose and smoothed down the silk folds of my dress, so that I may greet them properly.

  Both men entered still carrying their brandy glasses. I moved away from my seat by the fire so that they might have their choice of chair.

  “Lord Radfoot was just telling me about an amusing play he saw in London, The Lady Protests,” noted Richard as he took a seat closest to the fire. Despite his casual tone, I noticed how sharply he was observing me. Again, I felt as though I was being tested somehow.

  Searching my mind for the proper response based on my repeated instructions, I was careful to keep my voice at a tempered pitch when I responded, “That sounds nice.”

  A lady must never show too much or too little interest in the conversation of gentlemen.

  Lord Radfoot started to laugh. “Wow. When you commit to a character you really commit!”

  I bit my lip as I tried not to nervously twitch my hands in my skirt. Again, he was baiting me with these odd statements. Deciding it better to demur, I was relieved when the parlor maid wheeled in the tea cart.

  “With your permission, your grace, I will help pour,” I inquired of Richard. It was always the lady’s duty to pour for her guests.

  “That is a fine idea, Elizabeth,” nodded Richard as he took another pull from his cigar.

  Usually a gentleman would not continue to smoke in the parlor in front of a lady but it was not my place to judge a man’s actions.

  Careful to keep my head up and shoulders straight, I maneuvered my voluminous skirts around a dainty table filled with delicate porcelain figurines to join the servant. As I got closer, my eyes narrowed. She almost looked familiar. Her curly blonde hair was actually cropped short just above the neck. A very singular look. She must have had a terrible fever of some sort. I’m told that it was necessary to cut off a woman’s hair if she had a great fever because the hair can drain her strength. Such an awful thing to happen; a woman really only had her beauty to recommend her in this world.

  Feeling pity for the poor thing, I smiled and asked her name.

  “Jane… damn. Sorry, forgot. It’s Rose.”

  My mouth fell open at her blasphemous curse so casually uttered in front of her betters and in a respectable parlor!

  Glancing over my shoulder, I made sure the gentlemen had not heard.

  Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves after such a shock, I nodded to the tea tray. “Please arrange three cups and I will pour. His grace prefers if you add the cream before you pour in the tea.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  I picked up the teapot and waited as she arranged the three cups and saucers on the small oval silver tray. When she was done, I bent to my task. I had to concentrate; pouring the tea properly was one of my biggest responsibilities in this household.

  Just as I was pouring the second cup, Rose gasped. The sound startled me and I spilled a few drops on the lace covering the tray.

  “Oh, no! Rose, look what you made me do!” I whispered, anxiously lifting the cup up to inspect the damage.

  “Never mind that Rose nonsense. What happened to your wrist?” She grabbed my forearm and inspected the small bit of wrist that was exposed.

  All around my pale wrist were several purple bruises.

  “It is very improper of you to ask that of me, Rose. Please do not forget your place.”

  “Lizzie, these are real! I know this guy is paying us all a small fortune and you’re desperate to afford a better flat than the one we’ve got but I’m starting to hear talk down in the servant’s quarters about you. People are starting to wonder if you’re really just playing the part of the abused, insane ward.”

  Freeing my arm from her grasp, I rubbed my temple. My head hurt. Something was wrong.

  She called me Lizzie.

  Lizzie?

  Why did that sound familiar? Why did she look familiar?

  I could hear the blood start to pound in my ears. It seemed to tap out a damning cadence.

  This is not real.

  This is not real.

  This is not real.

  It felt like I was trapped in a fog and just on the other side was something my mind was trying to tell me… something important.

  I could feel Richard’s presence right before he placed a hand on the small of my back. “Is everything fine, my love? The tea seems to be taking you exceptionally long this evening.”

  The fog closed about me again. Thick and dense, without even the barest shimmer of light.

  “Yes. We just had a small spill,” I stammered as I begged Rose with my eyes not to say anything to agitate Richard.

  “Rose, you may leave, her ladyship will finish pouring.”

  For the barest of moments, I thought she was going to argue with him. I gave my head the tiniest of shakes as I implored her in my mind to please just leave.

  Holding my breath, I waited.

  “I will be back shortly… for the tray,” said Rose as she gave a small curtsy and turned to leave. Her tone implied it was more of a warning than a simple statement.

  As she approached the door, Richard called out, “Rose.”

  She turned.

  “Please go find Harris in the stables and give him a message.”

  “Yes, your grace?”

  “Tell him, ‘you know what to do.’ He will know what that means.”

  Rose’s brow furrowed and it looked like she was going to say something further but thought better of it. She turned and left.

  I let out the breath I had been holding. Once more I returned to my task. As I lifted the tray and turned to offer cups to the gentlemen, I made sure to smile demurely and focused on keeping my back straight even as I bent to allow them to lift from the tray.

  This is not real.

  Chapter 21

  Elizabeth

  I sat in a chair sipping my tea only half listening to them talk until I heard my name.

  “I understand you had an infatuation for my Elizabeth at some point.”

  I looked up.

  Although he said it in a conversational tone, I recognized when Richard was baiting someone, toying with them. Why would he say such a thing? It implied I had been improper in some way. Perhaps that was why Lord Radfoot kept implying throughout dinner that we knew one another and shared some sort of i
ntimacy.

  Was this from the time before I entered the asylum? The time Richard said I confused with just fantasies and dreams?

  My cheeks burned.

  I had heard often enough that the hysteria of my heated mind caused me to behave like a harlot and it was only through Richard’s punishments… no… through his careful instruction that I kept hysteria at bay. I needed the firm guidance of a man’s hand and his help in releasing the sinful demons that plague my thoughts and affect my body, especially between my legs.

  Lord Radfoot looked from me to Richard and back again. He held up his hand as he measured his words carefully. “Are we breaking character here? Or is this still part of it?”

  Breaking character?

  What was Mike talking about?

  Mike?

  My heart began to race. Why did I just refer to him by a Christian name? And not even his proper one. His name is Lord Arthur Radfoot and it is highly improper of me to even think of his Christian name. But why does Mike sound right?

  I could feel anxiety begin to twist and turn in my stomach. The hysteria must be returning. The confusion felt worse than before. My corset felt tight and began to itch as I felt a bead of sweat trickle between my breasts.

  I began remembering Lord Radfoot in strange attire. We were both on an actor’s stage together but not Shakespeare’s Globe like I had seen in books. There were people all around us. Rose was there but I remember calling her by a different name. Jane! I remember calling her Jane.

  I tried to block out the memories. They were not real. Just fantasies and dreams brought on by my hysteria.

  London. Cars. Jeans. Coffee. Noise. Cellphones. School. Friends. Martinis. My flat. Dancing. Internet. Noise. America. Television. Pizza. Fitbit. Noise. Electric light. Computers. Game of Thrones. Disneyland. My parents.