Chapter Seven
Arabelle stared silently at the innocuous tablet in her hand. But the calendar on the screen seemed to mock her.
He wanted to know her cycle dates. She wasn’t stupid and didn’t need to ask the reason why. The only comforting thing about Silas taking her virginity, coming inside without any protection on either side was the fact that she had just come off her period. She knew it wasn’t an exact science but the chances of her becoming pregnant were much less.
Now he wanted to deliberately know her dates.
She thought of refusing when the gut-twisting idea that she could have the child of a man who despised her overwhelmed her. But she also understood she was trapped. This was the price she had to pay to get her father out of trouble. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him and she had seen what the stress of the last couple of years had done to him and his health. He may look robust but he was weakened with illness.
Her father and her octogenarian granny, who she saw too rarely since she lived in England, upholding the false grandeur of an impoverished family name, were the only two people in the world she loved. She had aunts, uncles, and cousins in England as well, but hardly kept in contact with each other.
“Why?” she asked, despite knowing the answer but she wanted to make him say it, she wanted to hear him say it.
“We’re married and I expect you to be pregnant as soon as possible.”
“I see.” She pursed her lips then used the stylus attached to the tablet and marked her days then handed it back to him, gritting down on her teeth to prevent him from seeing her quivering lip. Except he wasn’t looking at her.
He slid a velvet box across the desk to her.
“Wear it,” he instructed. Numbly she picked it up. It was the kind of box a beaming bride would be over the moon to see while the love of her life, went down on one knee and proposed.
No such thing for her. She was absent for her wedding, which was really a contractual signing thing, and her husband, a day later, now slid a wedding ring to her after he wanted to know the details of her cycle.
“Is that all?” she asked standing up. She felt as if she would throw up, or faint or something. Every emotion inside her opposed the other and she wanted to laugh hysterically and cry pathetically. This was what her life had become. She was the unwanted bride.
“I’m hosting a business dinner in a few days. I expect you to stay upstairs. Are we clear?”
Her emotions were so taxed already she didn’t know how to handle his latest little attack. Was he really so ashamed to introduce her to his business associates?
“Crystal. Are you done now?”
“Yes,” he said dismissing her already as he resumed looking at his laptop.
She strode to the door then turned around and calmer than she could give herself credit, she delivered her final words.
“If you think I’m going to let you touch me again, let alone fuck me ever again, you have another think coming.”
She slammed the door shut, shaking with fury. She took the elevator up to the only other room she knew in his house and she didn’t care that it was his bedroom.
She belatedly realized that she was still clutching onto the velvet box for dear life. Her intention had been to fling it at him. She might be married to him but she’d never wear his ring. Ever.
As if the box had suddenly turned to flames she tossed it onto a side table in the room and then dropped herself on the bed. She lay on her side and curled her knees toward her chest.
She had no idea how much time passed without her moving an inch.
This was supposed to be the best part of her life. She had graduated, had planned to take a small break before she found herself a job, and came up with ideas on how to get her doctorate. But nothing mattered now.
She jumped up when she heard a knock on the door. It couldn’t be Silas. He would rather break the door down before he ever knocked on one in his own house.
“Mrs. K?”
A relieved breath puffed out of her mouth. “Come in.”
“Hi there. I thought you might want a snack? Or a walk in the garden. Granted it's only marble ornaments and grass, but it does supply some fresh air and sunlight.”
“Thank you, Alice. And yes, to the snack and the walk,” she said, grateful for Alice’s company. She slipped into her sandals and while doing so an idea struck in her head.
“Alice, do you think it’s possible to have Silas’s clothes and stuff moved into another bedroom?”