My cheeks flushed, and I dropped my gaze to my lap. “You told me not to use it, so I-” I gasped as he seized my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“I know you were still using it, Evie,” he murmured, his gaze dark. “I told you what would happen if you continued to use it.”
My eyes widened, and I shook my head. “No, you mustn’t. I will not let you.”
“I trust you did not use it last night?” He asked, giving me a crooked smile as I frantically shook my head. “Good. Then we shall see.”
I shoved his hand away from me, cursing myself for even thinking for a moment that I could love him. That I couldeven conceive of wanting to be tender with this man, that I wanted him to be tender with me.
“Stop threatening me with vile, lewd acts,” I hissed at him, glaring at the scratches in his cheek and wishing I had ripped the flesh from his bones.
Azriel smirked, looking out the window as the carriage slowed and turned down the lane to Linmere. “It need not be a vile act, Evie.”
“Sodomy? Not a vile act?” I laughed incredulously. “Yes, I am sure it can be most pleasurable.”
“It can be, in fact.” Azriel’s level, neutral gaze was somehow even more terrifying than his rage. “One must prepare properly, of course. But I’ve yet to have a woman complain.”
Wicked curiosity bloomed within me, and I could practically hear the nuns who had educated me screaming in my ear that I was a harlot. I wanted to ask Azriel more, ask him how something so disgusting and surely painful could ever be pleasurable. And more than that, I wanted to ask how it was even possible.
But the carriage slowed, and we reached the drive of Linmere, coming to a stop outside its imposing black doors. It almost felt like a drop of an abyss, back into the harsh reality of our lives. There was no escaping here, no bribing a policeman for his silence.
“Mr Caine!” Barlow, the man who had more or less replaced George, quickly approached the carriage with a raised hand as Azriel sprung down and put on his hat.
“What is it?” Azriel asked, extending a hand to me to help me down.
“Mr Carshaw, he sent an urgent message for you to attend his rooms the moment you returned from Leicester.”
Azriel frowned at the man. “Did he state a reason?”
“None, sir.” Barlow replied, and his uncertain gaze flickered to me for a moment.
“Who is Mr Carshaw?” I asked.
“My lawyer.” Azriel seemed to think for a moment, brow furrowed as he regarded the floor. Then he straightened up, dropped a kiss on my cheek and nodded at Barlow. “Good man. I shall take the carriage directly.”
“You are going now?” I asked as Azriel directed Barlow and two other men to remove our trunks from the carriage.
“I think it best I go now, beloved.” Azriel gave me a smile, but it did not quite reach his eyes, and I could sense the simmering anger behind them. “Sort out whatever mess has been brought to our door. Go and rest, you are surely tired.” He turned with a swish of his cloak, and banged an open palm against the outside of the carriage. “Highgrove Road, and right quick!”
The driver nodded his ascent, mumbling a short, “Yes, sir,” before clicking his tongue and spurring the horses on. I was left alone outside the doors of Linmere, dread pooling in my stomach as I wondered what in heaven’s name could cause Azriel’s lawyer to call him directly.
The dread was followed swiftly by a pain, and I clutched my hand to my stomach. Mary appeared just as I walked in the door, her face shadowed with worry.
“Madam, welcome home,” she said, taking my cloak and hurriedly unpinning my bonnet. “You must be exhausted, you poor thing. Are you well?”
“Just anxious for a bath to wash off all this dust.” I gave her a wan smile, wincing as another pain cramped my stomach. “I think my monthlies may be cursing me with their presence,” I told her in a low voice, and she nodded quickly.
“Oh dear, well then best run you a bath and get you into some fresh clothing.”
“Yes, thank you, Mary.” I watched as she rushed ahead and up the stairs on light footsteps, following her slowly. I wished I had gone with Azriel, but I knew he wouldn’t have allowed that. In his own way, he wanted to protect me. At the very least, I hoped he did. For what waited for him in the rooms of the mysterious Mr Carshaw could not spell good news for us.
But it did not bear thinking about, and my head was so heavy it refused me leave to even attempt to stuff in another thought. Instead, I made my way to my room, collapsing into my arm chair and pulling my boots from my aching feet.
“I’d already turned on the boiler, madam!” Mary called from the bathroom, where heavenly steam and the scent of lavender wafted through the door. “I knew you’d be wanting a lovely bath, and I was right!”
“You were, Mary. You certainly were.” I once again attempted a smile as she emerged in the bedroom. “I am cold, and dirty, and ever so hungry.”
“Then I shall see to some food being brought up for you, leave you to your soaking.” She helped me out of my dress, unbuttoning and unlacing with nimble fingers. “And how was Leicester, madam? I’m sure your father must have been thrilled to see you.”