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The woman whimpered and bit her lips together, her body trembling as though she were cold.

“Sir, please.” Her voice was high pitched. “Oh god, it’s-”

“Fuck’s sake.” Azriel pulled out of her, and I forced my eyes to stay on his face. I did not want to see… that. He lifted the surprised woman up by the hair still clenched in his hand. He spun her around, yanking her head back, drawing a frightened squeal from her lips. “I told you to shut your fucking mouth.”

“I-I-” The woman spluttered, and Azriel pulled her hair even harder.

“Since you’re incapable of listening, I will shut it for you.” He forced the woman to her knees, and I watched in horror as he inserted himself into her mouth.

I’d never seen anything so depraved, so vile and filthy. This had to be a sin of the most villainous kind. My stomach turned and I clutched a hand to my mouth, watching Azriel thread his fingers into this woman’s hair and force her mouth down on to him, again and again.

I tried to steady myself on the door, preparing to creep away and forget I had ever seen such a vile thing, but the door gave way against my hand and creaked lightly. I clenched my eyes shut, like a kitten praying such an action would make it invisible, hoping that Azriel had not heard me.

When I opened my eyes, Azriel was looking right at me.

He couldn’t see me, surely. I knew he couldn’t. I was hiding here in the shadows. But as thunder rolled overhead, panic surged into my veins as I realised that lightning may have illuminated me while I stood here with my eyes closed like a fool.

His mouth was open, panting, as his eyes stayed locked on the door. He gritted his teeth, his hips jerking him forward into the harlot’s mouth, then with a growl, he shuddered, his stomach contracting. The woman made light choking noises, then swallowed hard.

It was odious. It was obscene.

And yet I could not look away.

I forced myself away from the door, dashing across the floor on tiptoes. Tears burned at my eyes, humiliation sending red flames into my cheeks. Azriel was the devil, I was sure of it, or at least an agent of his. Not even Acton, in all his depraved filth, had ever forced me to do such a thing.

And to bring a whore into his father’s house, and defile her in his father’s study? When Acton wasn’t even in the ground? I couldn’t explain why it bothered me so, but I was almost sick with rage.

I stumbled back into my room, to an alarmed Mary, and retched into the bowl on my dressing table.

“Madam!” Mary was at my back, rubbing my shoulders soothingly. “Oh my goodness, madam, what happened?”

I didn’t answer, merely choked and spat into the bowl, gripping onto it with shaking hands.

“Oh madam, I think you might be pregnant.” Mary’s soft and hopeful tone sent a renewed wave of revulsion through me, and I heaved, my empty stomach forcing out nothing but yellow bile.

“You heard the doctor,” I snapped, coughing and sweating. “I am not pregnant.”

“Perhaps it is still early?”

“MARY!” I did not mean to shout at her, and I felt instantly guilty when she recoiled slightly.

“I’m sorry, madam.” She sniffled softly. “I merely wish there was some way for Mr Caine to still be with you.”

I pushed myself away from the bowl and collapsed intothe chair by the fire. Mary quickly set about taking off my damp stockings, replacing them with warm socks and a pair of soft slippers.

“Mr Caine is with God, Mary,” I said, wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. “And as much as it might pain us, we must accept it, and not hope for the impossible.”

“You are right, madam.”

I reached out and took her hand, and she finally looked up at me.

“All will be well, Mary. I told you.”

She smiled through her tears and nodded, gripping on to my hand. “You did, madam.”

“Good. Now, help me out of this dress. I need to rest.” I rose from my chair and began to undo the buttons on my bodice.

“Madam, the photographer will be here in an hour.”