Chapter 1
Chapter I
The bygone days, with their tenacious grip, may yet cast their long shadows across the present stage.
Lenora woke up to the bright daylight that spread into the room through the uncurtained windows. Darian was gone, the empty space in the bed accentuating his absence.
It can’t happen ever again! She told herself staring at the white pillow sunken in the middle where his head had rested.
Such an adamant resolution helped her to quell feelings of nostalgia and desire that began creeping up on her from deep within her belly -- feelings connected to Darian she didn’t want to acknowledge. With the help of an unequivocal sense of shame, she managed to push them back down and prevent them from flaring up.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she bathed her face in the sun’s morning light, unpersecuted by the previous night’s events. Her peace of mind was pleasant but brief, for there were other things she had to consider, things that happened yesterday not only at night but throughout the day.
When she stepped from the room into the hallway, she saw the fallen candle on the floor. A small amount of vax spilled from it and dried up. She squatted to pick it up, her fingers clutching around it at the wisp of last night’s memory. Her other hand went up to her mouth, the brush of her fingers evoking the sensation of Darian’s lips pressing against hers, her stomach fluttered with yearning.
Never again, she reprimanded herself and got up.
Henry’s whiny voice was heard through the door. She hesitated, not wanting to enter, but in the end, her hand on the doorknob was weighted down by her sense of marital duty.
The redhead maid greeted her from the other side of the bed, her worried face barely discernable in the dim light.
»Oh, my lady!« Ellie gasped, clenching a tray in her hands.
»Lenora...Lenora, is that you?« Henry’s body moved under a thick blanket, his face remained turned towards the maid.
»Oh, I’m so glad you came, my Lady! Your husband seems to be in great pain.«
Lenora put her extinguished candle on the shelf and joined Ellie. She took the tray from her hands and with a tilt of her head signalled her to leave the room. Ellie nodded, her eyes expressing relief and gratitude.
Lenora placed the tray with what looked like a modest breakfast on the nightstand and gazed at her husband. His face was pale with dark circles forming a depression above his cheekbones.
»Goddammit, I can’t even see straight, the light is too strong,« he growled shadowing his eyes with his hand, even though only a few thin rays of daylight sneaked through the gaps between the closed curtains. »I didn’t sleep at all during the night. All those nightmares hunting me...and I couldn’t wake up. I got no rest, my head is aching, and my leg...« His movements beneath the blanket seemed to suggest that he was trying to reach his leg; «You need to get me more of that Laudanum.«
»Calm down, Henry.«
She uncovered him, his slim body in a white flannel shirt and short pants was writhing restlessly.
»How does it look? Is it bad?«
His leg was bandaged from the knee to the ankle, so there was nothing to see. Lenora answered with a quiet, keen look, then went to the adjacent room and brought the medicine he requested. She added a few drops of Laudanum to the tea and passed the cup to Henry.
He sat upwards with his back against his pillow and drank from the cup with large, slow sips. His eyes flickered backward and his lips muttered noises of satisfaction at the ingestion of the liquid.
Lenora left his side and returned to the adjacent room, unsure of what to do next. She didn’t fancy going downstairs for breakfast and risking meeting Alexander or Darian. She wasn’t ready to face either of them.
For a while, she sat at the dressing table and brushed her hair with a distant gaze at the mirror. Her eyes seemed fresher and greener than usual.
Who are you, Lenora?
The image in the mirror seemed to have no clear answer to the question.
She pushed her hair back and examined her neck. The collar of her nightgown was tied higher than usual, but the bruises were still visible. The poor illumination in the room probably saved her from the unwanted questions by the maid or Henry.
For a while she just stared at the marks, thinking of Darian’s hand on her throat and questioning the pleasure it gave her. The experience she had had at Victoria’s execution with the stranger was too similar. Her face in the mirror grimaced.
No...no...I’m not like that ... And it wasn’t Darian then...
She abhorred the possibility that her desire and arousal could be stimulated by such perverted play with death. Besides, when the black-eyed man attacked her and his hand squeezed her neck, fear was all she felt. Like any other normal person would.
She opened her lacquer jewelry box and searched for a small silvery case with a porcelain panel decorated with a rose. It was an exclusive and expensive powder case from France, which Henry had given to her for her birthday. Her complexion being clean and quite white she didn’t use the powder often. She now applied it on the marks left by Darian or the black-eyed man and soon her neck looked as white as her face. Satisfied with her crafty solution, she changed into a very conservative dress and buttoned it all the way up in case the powder faded.
»Lenora!«
Henry’s voice reverberated with renewed strength, carrying a commanding tone. When she arrived at his bedside, the expression on his face was one she feared and hated. His sly smile and his leering eyes projected his sexual desire.
»Come closer,« he told her and grabbed her by her leg.
His fingers probed her thigh through the thick fabric of her dress, making their way towards her center. She endured his touch without reacting, still feeling the soreness caused by Darian’s rough grasp.
»I missed you...«
His words spoken sweetly but loaded with sexual longing disgusted her as much as his touch.
»The maid told me you slept in the other room, and while I do approve your temporary stay in another bed until my leg heals I still expect you to be at my full disposal. Come on, darling, come closer.....«
When she didn’t comply he caught her by her wrist and jerked her towards the bed. With his other hand, he uncovered the blanket exposing a bulge between his legs protruding through his cotton pants. Pride reflected in his opium-induced smile as he drew her hand toward his erection.
She resisted. »Henry, don’t .... Lord Aiken might come to look for you.«
»Then you’ll just have to hurry up, right, darling? I want you to touch it--«
Lenora answered with a quick tug in the opposite direction, using enough force to free her hand. Her sudden move pulled Henry over the edge of the bed and without having anything to hold on to he tumbled to the ground.
Like an agile deer, Lenora leaped away from him.
Cursing he braced himself on his hands while his furious eyes searched for her. He attempted to stand up, but his injured leg was too rigid to allow for such movement, and each time he tried he fell back to his knees with a yelp of pain.
»Help me?« he hissed, pursing his lips, his nostrils flaring with each rapid breath.
Lenora watched him from a distance, her agitation and fear receding fast after seeing him so helpless. Locking her hands in front she assumed a most calming posture and gazed at his futile attempts with indifferent demeanor.
»Dammit, Lenora, help me! I can’t...I can’t get up...«
She didn’t move. He looked at her in stupefaction. »I said—»
Before he finished his sentence she made a quick step forward and stomped on the back of his hand -- the very hand that moments before touched her thigh. He groaned out loud, his fingers spreading and contracting beneath her black sateen slipper. She added more force to it by leaning forward on her leg. After the prolonged, merciless moment she retreated to her previous distance.
»You-you...wretched whore!« Henry yelled out.
Lenora’s face remained unchanged. With satisfaction, she noticed something of a fear in Henry’s eyes when he looked at her again.
»Mr Ross! Henry!« A strong knock on the door came with the call. Lenora recognized Lord Aiken’s voice and leaving Henry on the floor she sauntered around the bed toward the door without any urgency.
»Oh, my Lord, you arrived just in time!« she exclaimed after opening the door and receiving Lord Aiken with a distressing expression on her face.
»Henry tried to get up from the bed, despite my firm objections I assure you, and fell. I can’t pick him up. He’s too heavy. Help me, please!« She rushed around the bed, beckoning him to follow her to the other side.
Seeing miserably-looking Henry sitting on the floor Lord Aiken acted promptly and lifted him to the bed with ease. He held up his legs and pushed them toward the middle of the mattress, forcing Henry into a horizontal position.
When Lenora adjusted his pillow, Henry glared at her with reproach, rubbing the back of his hand. She ignored his hostile attitude and continued patting the pillow, well knowing Henry was too proud to say anything in front of Lord Aiken.
»My dear Henry, you should have used the clutches I gave you,« Lord Aiken spoke unaware of the tension between them; »The maid told me you were complaining about the pain in your leg, but I didn’t think it was this bad. I shall call for the doctor immediately.«
Lenora followed Lord Aiken to the door with a timid smile of gratitude, but the moment she closed the door behind him, the smile was gone and she cut a sharp sideways look at Henry.
»Le—» He managed to utter before she forcefully shut the door to her adjacent room.
She fell on the armchair at her dressing table and rested her head upon her folded arms. After a few deep sighs, she lifted her head just enough to see herself in the small desk mirror.
»Who are you, Lenora?« she asked again, this time out loud, and with the empty mind of an automata toy reached towards her bosom. When her fingers grasped nothing but air, her eyes widened in a sudden realization.
She sprang from the armchair and began searching through her garments in the armoires like a thirsty man looking for water. Her zealous pursuit was cut short by the arrival of Lord Aiken and the doctor.
The doctor unwrapped the bandage on Henry’s leg and stared at it dumbfounded for a moment.
»There’s some inflation for sure.»
Henry’s leg was considerably swollen and purple from the knee to his ankle, the size of it being almost double compared to his healthy leg. When the doctor touched it Henry immediately flinched and groaned.
A greasy cream was applied which made Henry’s leg shinier and even more purple. Lenora recoiled as the thought of a roasted pig leaped into her mind.
The doctor wrapped the leg with a new bandage and after a minute of silent consideration departed from Henry with encouraging words, assuring him that everything was going to be fine and that proper recovery takes time. But soon as he stepped out of the room a worry-stricken expression took over his face.
»Hmm...It’s not what I expected,« he said sotto voce to Lenora and Lord Aiken. »The inflammation seemed to have worsened. Almost as if --«
»It might be my fault,« Lord Aiken rushed to explain. »I allowed Mr Ross to go with me on a trip yesterday. The ride in the carriage and the unsteady roads had only aggravated his injury. I deeply apologize, Mrs Ross.«
Lenora struggling with how to respond muttered something indistinctly.
The doctor looked unconvinced. »Hmm....perhaps, perhaps....such trips can be strenuous indeed...Still, it is quite unusual...« He opened his black leather bag, took out a small bottle, and gave it to Lenora. «Something for the pain and please make sure he doesn’t take too much of it. A few drops morning and evening.« He then addressed Lord Aiken: «The maid should soak the bandages in vinegar and change them at least two times per day. It will lessen the swelling. And he shouldn’t step on the foot unless absolutely necessary.«
After Lord Aiken and the doctor left, Lenora reentered the room. Henry’s glare immediately settled upon her and when she countered it he turned his head away with a huff. She spared him no time and continued to the adjacent room.
Shortly after she was checking herself in the standing mirror, a small smile of satisfaction twisting her lips. The elegant black jacket she had found in the armoire was a good replacement for her blood-stained riding habit, which lay hidden in her traveling trunk. Its slim, waist-length fit allowed for comfortable arm movements without obstructing the rest of her body. Her dress was without hooks or buttons to tie up the skirt in the saddle, but still plain and wide enough to mount a horse. Her black boots while muddy from the previous day, were almost entirely covered beneath her dress, so she didn’t mind the dirt.
She tied up her hair first, then changed her mind and let it loose, attaching only a brooch at the back of her head so that her hair still looked respectably restrained.
She returned to Henry with decisive and hurried steps and dropped the small bottle on the nightstand. »It’s for the pain. The doctor said to take no more than ten drops. The maid will come to change your bandages in the afternoon.«
Henry rose on his elbows, looking incredulously at his wife. »W-Where are you going?«
Lenora scoffed and left the room without any explanation.
Rushing toward the staircase and all pensive, she almost bumped into Darian, who came from the other side of the corridor. He respectfully moved to the side, but their eyes remained locked on each other.
With one hand on the fence, Lenora was caught off guard by his sudden appearance and didn’t know what to say, her cheeks gaining more color with each passing second.
»Good morning, Mrs Ross,« he said, looking very composed, and continued staring at her as if it was her turn to say something. His confident gaze oppressed her, yet she couldn’t look away.
»Are you going somewhere?« His eyes inquisitively cruised over her body.
Her attire was revealing of her intent to go outside. She cleared her throat, stalling, and thinking of a plausible answer that wouldn’t raise his suspicions.
»The garden...« she muttered under her breath as the idea just popped into her mind. »The garden! I’m going for a walk in the garden.«
His eyes narrowed a bit, he seemed unconvinced. His lips parted in another question when footsteps sounded in the corridor.
He raised his gaze above her and she turned her head to see the approaching person. Ivy, carrying a bundle of linens in her arms, came up to them and made an awkward curtsy, casting her stare at the stairs.
With a delayed realization Lenora stepped aside, clearing the way for the maid, who with a grateful nod continued down the stairs.
Lenora followed her at once, departing from Darian with a quick, forced smile.
