“Can I touch it?”
“If you want.”
He reached out and touched it, his chubby little fingers going over the raised white skin. His face was thoughtful and I waited a few seconds to let the message sink in before I spoke again.
“If I had two more of these would it make me a monster?”
He thought about it, then shook his head.
“What about if I had ten more, Zackary?”
This time he didn’t have to think about it. He shook his head immediately.
“It is the same with your father. He is not a monster just because he has a few scars on his face.”
“But he is always angry with Mummy.”
I shook my head. “No, he’s not.”
He nodded. “Yes, he is. He makes her very sad because he wants to take me away from her.”
I didn't know where to start. It was such a pack of lies. “None of that is true …” I couldn’t help myself from saying.
His response was to frown. “Mummy said,” he insisted stubbornly.
If I was not careful I was going to get myself in big trouble. “I’m not saying that she lied or anything like that. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding … you know. Sometimes adults get it wrong too.”
Mrs. Blackmore arrived with Zackary’s lunch then, and I turned to take the tray from her. “Thank you,” I said with a smile. As I put the meal before him, I quietly shot my last bullet. “Your father loves you very much, and he would love to spend some time with you, so do not be scared of him, alright?
“What about Mummy? I think she might not like it if I chose Daddy instead of her.”
“How about we let Daddy handle Mummy?”
He nodded eagerly, and I fell a little bit more in love with him.
Chapter 35
Charlotte
I remembered the kiss …
Everything else was vague and dreamlike, but the kiss was vivid. I could still taste it. It was the kind of deep kiss, I imagined when I was child, had been given to Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. It had everything. Passion, romance … great love. It was so similar to the first night I’d been at the house, and yet so different. These memories refused to fade … flashing into my mind, then disappearing before I could grab a hold of them.
Of course, it couldn’t possibly have happened. There was no way.
After I put Zackary to sleep I came down to sit with Carrie and Mrs. Blackmore. We passed the late evening away in the warmth of the kitchen with cups of tea, scones and the uncomplicated conversation of simple working people. These were my kind of people.
Both women laughed and reacted to the drama that they were watching on TV, but my mind was engaged in trying to retrieve the events from the night before.
Surreal fragments of being touched in secret places came to me, the reminder of sheets being pulled away from my body. An underlying note of excitement accompanied these memories. The pit of my stomach was fluttering with nerves and it kept me tense.
The memory of a pair of gray eyes watching me.
His tongue had been in me … I was sure of it … I felt it, and as I tightened my hold on the handle of my cup I felt my hand tremble.
What exactly had happened?
The door suddenly opened and all the hair on my body stood to attention before I even turned to see why it was. Both Mrs. Blackmore and Carrie jumped to their feet. “Mr. King,” they called in unison.
Tea splashed from my cup, I jumped to my feet along with them and turned around to meet the gray eyes that had haunted me all day. He appeared dark and imposing in a light blue, bishop-collared dress shirt, dark slacks and his mask.
I broke his gaze and lowered my face to the floor.
“Do you need Barnaby, Sir?” Mrs. Blackmore asked. She sounded flustered. “He headed off into town to meet with a friend.”
“No, I don’t need him.”
Mrs. Blackmore glanced at me and Carrie nervously. “Is there anything I can get you, Sir?”
“Some fruit and tea,” he said slowly.
I risked a look at him and found his gaze blatantly and unashamedly on me. I could feel both Carrie and Mrs. Blackmore watching the both of us with unbridled interest.
“I’ll get it delivered as soon as it’s ready,” Mrs. Blackmore said quickly.
The source of my nightmare and fantasies nodded and took his leave.
Mrs. Blackmore heaved a sigh of relief, her shoulders slumping from being so nervous.
“Oh, my God. I can’t believe he came in here,” Carrie gasped.
“Will you take the tray up to him, Carrie?” Mrs. Blackmore asked, as she bustled around preparing his tea.
"I’ll take it up to him?" I said, before my brain got involved.
Both women turned to look at me.
"I'd like to speak to him about Zackary," I said quickly.
"I don’t think you’re going to get very far doing it one to one," Carrie said. "He doesn't speak much at all. I've attended to his wing for a long time now, and I think this was the first time I’ve heard him speak directly to another human being.”
"It wouldn't hurt to try" I said with a shrug.
"So what do you think of him?" Carrie asked. "Is this the first time you've seen him in real life?"
"He's very imposing," I said truthfully.
Carrie nodded in agreement. "I've got no arguments there. In my first few months working in his wing I was too scared to even look him in the eye. The way that Madam spoke of him, I really thought he was some kind of monster ready to bite my head off, but really, he’s quite the mysterious knight, almost like a romantic hero from a novel, is he not, Mrs. Blackmore?”
"Dashing is the word you're looking for," she said. "He makes me think of the many sweaty nights in my youth."
Carrie giggled. "I completely agree. I can't believe Madam goes to other men when there's more than enough to keep her busy at home. Sometimes I just want to give him a big heartfelt hug. All those scars and living all on his own up there. Charles, who used to work here as a chauffeur, said there were many nights he heard the master screaming in pain as he forced himself to learn to walk again."
The kettle that had been placed to boil on the stove sounded off, and Mrs. Blackmore immediately busied herself with making the tea. Carrie helped her cut up a selection of fruit.
“There you go,” Mrs. Blackmore said, putting a small vase of flowers on the tray.
I drained my cup and picked up the tray. Things hadn't gone so well the last time I was there, so as I approached his door I took deep even breaths to steady my nerves.
His door was left partly open so after one knock, I walked in and settled it on the table by his door. As I straightened, he emerged from the room.
His eyes.
In that moment, I knew he had been with me the previous night. I felt hot color flood my face and my big plans to ask him to confirm or deny what had happened last night shattered. Maybe this was a bad idea. “Right. I’ll see you later,” I said, and like a little coward turned away to leave.
“Stay,” he ordered.
I stopped in my tracks and faced him.
Chapter 36
Charlotte
He cocked his head and watched me, his eyes roving down my body with an expression I had never seen before. There was confidence and a new possessiveness there. There was also a knowing. I felt bare and stripped naked before his look. Just then the memory of his face between my legs came to me out of nowhere, and my eyes popped open in disbelief. Was I going crazy?
Surely that didn’t happen? I swallowed hard and tried not to show how affected I was by him.
His gaze burned a hole through me, but I continued to keep eye contact even when he came very close to me. He was so close I felt his heat like a living breathing thing. With a fork he picked up a piece of persimmon, his movements unhurried, but each second ticked away in my head like a bomb. The fruit slipped between his lips. I had a flash of seeing his lips shiny with juices. My juices.
I
dropped his gaze then. I could have sworn he was doing it deliberately, to torture me, but all I could do was play along. I didn’t know what had happened last night and I needed him to tell me.
“I want to fuck you. What’s it going to take?”
Time slowed down. My heart lurched in my throat and I felt all the breath drain out of my body. I was sure that I had not heard him right.