Page 71 of The Forbidden Love of an Officer
‘I think much of you,’ he said. ‘You know that.’
What did he mean?She turned away and climbed the stairs, unwilling to pursue this disturbing conversation.
Before she even reached her rooms, she heard the front door close behind him.
* * *
When the dinner hour came, the lieutenant colonel had not returned to the house. All Ellen felt was relief; she did not want to see him this evening. She ate with Megan in her room, because Megan was the closest person she had to a friend.
They ate and talked, avoiding the subject of the scene in the street with Paul’s fellow officers.
Immediately afterwards, Ellen asked Megan to help her undress so she could retire. Then she lay in bed, in the half-light of late evening, her hands holding the prominent bump in her stomach, cradling her child. If only Paul had lived… Her mind circled, think of ways to escape this house – to find a way to get home alone.
Lieutenant Colonel Hillier had promised her for weeks that he would escort her when the regiment returned to England. She did not believe it was true anymore. But how would she find the money to travel? She dared not mention the possibility of leaving to Megan, in case she mentioned something to the other servants. But if she left, she should leave with Megan as her companion.
Sometimes sleep was difficult, but tonight it came quickly, despite her tumultuous thoughts.
She woke when it was still dark. There was a noise below, a candlestick, statue or vase, or something else heavy had been knocked from a mantle or table. ‘Pick it up!’ A low-pitched bark ran through the house.
Lieutenant Colonel Hillier was back and drunk by the sounds of it, yelling at his servants. It was not the first time she had heard him return in such a state, though she had never seen him in his cups. She never went outside her rooms once she had retired, and she certainly would not have walked about the house when he was in this temper.
His footsteps sounded on the wooden stairs as he walked heavily and unsteadily, bumping against the banister, making the iron struts ring.
His rooms were to the right of the house and hers to the left. She listened, expecting him to walk to the right, but his footsteps sounded on the landing, walking towards her room.
Cold fear clasped her stomach as she slid from the bed and rushed to turn the key in the lock of the door, the soles of her bare feet brushing over the cold, unyielding floorboards.
Before she could reach the door to lock it, the handle turned and it opened inwards.
‘Lieutenant Colonel.’ She spoke in a sharp voice, a voice that said,get outeven if her lips did not. ‘You have no business in my rooms.’ Had he made a mistake? Was he too drunk to know where he was? But even as she thought those things she could see he knew what he was doing; his eyes were dark. This was no mistake.
She recalled all the times his stares had made her skin crawl.
‘Go to your rooms.’ Her voice was strong but she could not find the courage to yell at him; this was his house and she was here under his generosity.
‘I think not, Ellen.’ He did not sound so drunk now, not so drunk he was incapable – it sounded the sort of drunk that gave a man confidence and silenced his conscience. She had seen the difference in men when she camped with the army.
She stepped back, afraid of the hard intent in his eyes.
‘I have a need tonight…’ His pitch dropped to almost a whisper, but the bitterness in his tone matched the look in his eyes. ‘I refuse to pay for a damned whore when I have a woman here. I desire you. I always have. You act as if you do not know, but you must know, and you have taken my protection and offered me nothing in return.’
No.The word did not come from her lips; shock had frozen her still. She would have backed away further but she could not gather her thoughts.
His hand lifted quickly and his fingers clasped the plait securing her hair. He pulled so hard it tore at her scalp.
‘Please do not…’ She could not say more. The words would not come and her voice was too quiet as fear strangled her.
His grip on her hair only tightened as he leaned forward and attempted to kiss her. She managed to turn her head, even though he held her hair.
‘Why must you keep thinking of that man? Can you not appreciate all I have done for you?’ He tried again to kiss her, but she turned again.
‘You are so beautiful, Ellen. I have always thought you the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I have been nice to you, kind to you, and bought you gifts and how am I repaid? By a melancholy woman pining for a dead man.’
No. A sob became tangled with a scream in her throat.
‘Kneel.’ It was a barked order, in the voice she had heard several times when he commanded the regiment.
‘Please, do not do this…’ Her voice was a pathetic whimpering plea.
