AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It is alright, Loretta.” Even though it was unusual for a lady of the house to touch her servants, Marion placed a comforting hand on Loretta’s arm. “I am going to be perfectly safe.” Marion squeezed gently. “I am only going to visit Eleanor. I assure you, I shall be perfectly fine.”
Loretta’s face relaxed and she stepped back from her mistress’s touch, bowing respectfully.
“I am glad, Milady.” Loretta smiled softly. “I am glad you shall be safe. Your…business, it has been concluded?”
Marion’s stomach lurched at Loretta’s words. Had it? Marion wondered if her father would take her threat seriously, if he would truly stay away. She hoped that dangling the reach of Simon’s power would have been strong enough to keep her nefarious father at bay, but she knew in her heart that she would never escape the fear. Perhaps she would always have that lingering worry that one day he would return and ruin her life. Could that ever be called concluded?
“Yes,” Marion lied, smiling softly at Loretta, hoping her face displayed something like contentment. “It has. And now I owe my dear friend the Countess a visit. And her dear children, too! I must prepare.”
“Yes, Milady.” Loretta’s shoulders visibly relaxed. She was clearly happy to be on familiar ground, no longer having to speak in secrets but returning to those comforting topics of family and social visits.
“What should you like to wear, Milady?” Loretta moved towards the closet, opening it.
“Whatever you suggest, Loretta,” Marion said dismissively.
She really wasn’t in the mood to consider outfit options. She saw a frown appear in Loretta’s face. Marion cursed herself, knowing that she had to maintain a level of normalcy if her staff were ever to believe nothing untoward had occurred in her life. She quickly tried to cover her distraction.
“I have not seen the weather today,” Marion said by way of explanation, lightly turning to the mirror and undoing her braided hair, preparing for her normal toilette. “What would be most suitable, Loretta?”
“Oh, of course, Milady.” Loretta smiled, rifling through the gowns. “I think your crimson gown, Milady, with the matching pelisse.”
“Oh yes,” Marion said, trying to sound engaged when all she could think about was her marriage and speaking to Eleanor about all the secrets she was carrying. “Perhaps with the crimson velvet bonnet and feather?”
“Lovely, Milady,” Loretta sounded pleased, but then her face became cautious and worried again. “And My Lord, Milady? Will you join him for breakfast or shall you go up to town beforehand?”
Marion half wished that she could slip away before breakfast and avoid seeing Simon and facing his questions, but she wanted the staff to feel like normalcy was restored. It would be the coward’s way out, to slink away to London and let the household gossip fester.
“No, I shall breakfast as usual this morning, Loretta,” Marion said, mentally steeling herself for sitting opposite Simon over breakfast after his passionate words the night before.
Get a hold of yourself!Marion scolded herself as Loretta dressed her.You cannot exist forever being afraid of shadows in corners. You have to try and regain Simon’s trust. It’s only breakfast!
“All done, Milady,” Loretta said, bobbing a curtsey and disappearing.
Marion assessed herself in the mirror before going downstairs. The crimson gown was a good choice, it was perfect for her skin tone and hair colour, and Marion noticed suddenly how flattering it was to her figure.
Marion suddenly wondered if Loretta was trying to ease the tension in her marriage through the application of a truly flattering dress. Marion thought she was probably putting too much faith in a sweeping bustline, and steeled herself to walk to the breakfast room. Thankfully, when she got there it was empty. She hoped that she might be able to eat quickly and then exchange a brief few words with Simon before she left, but before she could finish her pastry and coffee, Simon entered the room.
“Good morning,” he said, quietly taking the seat opposite her. Marion swallowed tightly, flakes of pastry sticking to the roof of her mouth.
“Good morning,” she coughed.
She wondered if he would want to talk about the night before, about his fiery kisses and heartfelt words, but he didn’t say anything. The passionate man of the night before had disappeared, and the reserved, reflective man of the early days of their marriage was back. He opened his paper, he watched as the servant poured coffee into his cup, and they ate in silence. Though it reminded Marion of the first few days of their marriage, when they were still unused to one another, this silence seemed taut with repressed anger. Back then, they had little to say to one another, but at least mutual respect and tentative trust flowed between them.
Now, the silence was filled with a forest of unsaid words, the air heavy with it. Just sitting there made Marion feel as if every muscle in her body had turned to stone. All she could think about were Simon’s kisses at her throat. Unhelpfully, she suddenly imagined Simon pushing the breakfast things aside and taking her at that moment, over the table. She felt her own body ticking in response to her fantasy, a hot flush starting under her dress. Her hand shook on her fork as she imagined the relief of his touch, the astonishing consolation of having him inside her again, reassuring her, filling her up completely.
God, how I want him still.Marion was trembling all over.How I wish I could hold him, how I wish I could touch him!
But she couldn’t, and she could no longer sit with him anymore, not without losing her self-control. She put down her coffee cup with a splash and stood up, her chair screeching in the cold silence.
“You’re leaving?” Simon spoke quietly but Marion still winced. There was such latent disappointment in his voice that it hurt her. It was the same tone she had heard the night before, when she realised her secrets were starting to cause him pain. She didn’t want to be reminded.
“I - I am going to visit Eleanor this morning.” When she spoke, her voice was very small. For some reason, her words sounded like an excuse. Maybe it was the way Simon was looking at her—as if he didn’t quite believe her. Or that he wasn’t sure that he could, any longer.
“You’re going to London again?” Simon’s eyes flickered with something like anger, something Marion didn’t quite understand.
“Yes,” she said, looking down at her hands. “Is - Is that alright?”
She didn’t know why she had asked him, but she awaited his response with bated breath. The gaze that met hers was a cold one.
