Page 40 of Unseen

TRUTH AND BETRAYAL

“ I want to hear your side of this story.”

Azriel looked at me from across the table in our room at The Bell, and shrugged. “More wine, beloved?” He held up the silver decanter. “It is really very good. Not as good as what one can get in Spain, but-”

“Do not change the subject.” My rest after our arrival back at The Bell had done nothing to calm my frayed nerves. The revelations of that afternoon had set a tumultuous storm of emotions roiling inside me, like a kettle left over the flame.

By the time Azriel and I had found ourselves sitting down for dinner - an invitation from my father to join him had, of course, not come - I was quite irate, and now I wanted answers.

Azriel raised his eyebrows, and poured the red liquid into my glass. “What do you imagine there is for me to tell you, Evie?”

“Did you always know?”

He swirled the wine in his glass languidly. “Do you imagine I would have let my father steal away my bride?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you would have done, but you knew. Somehow, you discovered all of this, and I wish for you to tell me how it all came about.”

He leaned back in his chair, and gave me a nod. “Of course you do.”

“Has anyone ever told you your indifference is maddening?”

He chuckled, grinning widely. “As a matter of fact they have.” He put the glass down with a sigh, and ran his hands through his hair.

“No, I did not know, though I should have.” His eyes lifted back to mine, and he shrugged.

“He lied to me. I was informed that he wished to organise a match with a family, and I had known for some time that he wanted to legitimise himself in the eyes of his business partners.” He scoffed. “Wretched old snob.”

“He wanted the Brimworth name?”

“Oh yes, he wanted a good and trusted name to brag with. He told me he was going to meet with the lady’s parents, but upon his return, he informed me it was an ill match, and that he would not agree to it.”

A wan smile tugged at my lips, and I took up my glass of wine. “And that, presumably, is when he saw me.”

“Yes, one would presume.” Azriel got to his feet, walking to the window, leaning his forearm against the frame as he gazed down into the street.

“Shortly thereafter he told me he’d fallen in love with a woman, and that he intended to marry again.

I was a fool, a young fool. I should have seen through his lies immediately.

And then I saw you in the church, and…” He rubbed his fingers together, his eyes fixed on something below that I could not see.

“When that veil was lifted, and revealed your face… It was as though the gates of heaven opened up before me, and hellfire burned beneath me. How could this creature, this vision, be marrying my father? ”

My cheeks flushed with heat, and I took a quick gulp of wine. “I had thought that perhaps your infatuation lay in your belief that I was yours.”

“You were always mine, Evie.” He looked over at me, lips twitching into a brief smile. “Of that I was certain. And yes, it fed my infatuation. But nothing could compare to… To what happened eight months ago.”

“Before you left for Greece?”

Azriel turned and leaned against the window ledge, crossing his arms over his chest. “What were you told about the marriage?”

I blinked at him, and shrugged. “I mean, I was informed that a family had offered someone for me to wed. I knew of your family, and assumed that I was intended for you. But then, I was presented to your father.”

“Did you protest?”

I laughed out loud, fanning myself with my hand as the wine heated my cheeks.

“Oh, to live in the world of men, where one has a choice. Do you suppose anyone ever even asked me? I was informed, Azriel. I was summoned into a room and informed that a desirable match had been made, and that I was going to be made extremely happy.” I tilted my head, the wine making me more brazen than I perhaps should have been. “Did you protest?”

Azriel frowned. “Protest what?”

“The preposterous notion that your father marry a woman my age?”

I expected to see shame, or remorse, but I am not sure why. Azriel did not entertain such emotions. He met my eyes with an icy stare.

“No, I did not.”

I lifted a hand with a laugh. “There, you see? For who among our good class of society would indeed protest such a thing? Especially when one party is the daughter of one of the poorest families in the crumbling nobility.”

“I was such a fool.” Azriel exhaled heavily, running a hand over his face. “It near drove me mad, being in that house with you, having my father parade an endless stream of women in front of me, trying to marry me off, not understanding why no woman could hold my attention.”

“And so you began to watch me?”

His eyes flashed with desire. “Yes. For it was all I could do. I was drunk that first night, drunk and enraged and entirely disbelieving. I was almost certain the old gibface wouldn’t be able to perform.

But the moment I saw you, so anxious, so frightened as he came to your chamber.

” He looked away quickly, a pained smile stretched across his face.

“You were all I saw. And my god, it was torturous. Sheer agony, watching you weep. Watching how little care he took with you. How perfunctory it was.”

My lashes fluttered as I tried to block that night out, to eliminate the memories of the fear I had felt, the disgust that the encounter had left behind, and the deep shame that I had somehow failed, somehow done something wrong.

“And when did you discover he had stolen me away?”

Azriel crossed the room to the table, snatching up the decanter and pouring himself another generous glass of wine.

“Eight months ago, I was summoned to a business celebration. Some new acquisition, who knows what? I didn’t care.

But I played the part of the dutiful son, and was in attendance.

I was about to be free of him for a number of months, so what harm could it do?

” He took a rather too long swig of wine, and sank back into his chair.

“He was roaringly drunk, loud and uncouth. It was almost embarrassing to observe. I was about to leave but…” He trailed off, rubbing his thumb along his lower lip as he stared into the lamp light.

“He began to speak of you. Filthy things, abhorrent th ings that no man should say publicly about his wife. The men around him loved it, of course.”

My cheeks were burning. “They did?”

Azriel gritted out a low growl. “Oh yes, a raucous audience. Degenerates, all of them. Salivating over the details of Evangeline Caine’s breasts, her cunt.”

Even now, the betrayal of Acton’s words stung. It should not have surprised me. It should not have even injured me. But by god, it did.

“He should not have done that,” I said softly, and Azriel grunted out a cruel laugh.

“My father was never much concerned with what he should and should not have done.” He drank down more of his wine, then looked across the table at me.

“It was then that he said something, I barely heard it at first, but it sounded very much like, ‘Good thing I spared my son’. And I asked him what the devil he meant.” He took a deep breath, his eyes still on me, never wavering.

“He laughed. The old fool laughed. He laughed right in my face, and told me that I should be grateful to him, that I wasn’t wasting my seed filling a womb where nothing would ever grow. ”

“That is a vile thing to say.” My throat became thick, but I was determined not to weep. “An ugly, vile thing.”

“And then he told me everything. That he had gone to Leicester to arrange the marriage contract with your father, and had seen you in the garden. You, with your long, black hair.” His eyes flickered over me, and a soft smile ghosted over his face.

“Your full, red lips. Your pale skin.” His expression darkened again, his eyes dropping from my face.

“‘My very own Snow White’, that’s what he called you.

His Snow White, come to marry the old, withering king in his decrepit castle. ”

“With the prince waiting in the shadows,” I said with a weak smile, and Azriel’s shoulders jerked with a laugh.

“Yes, the hidden prince in the tower, forced to hide in the walls and watch what was taken from him.”

“Is that why you were gone so long?”

He did not react at first, simply skimmed his fingers around the stem of his wine glass.

He winced slightly, shifting in his chair.

“You must understand, Evie, that I never intended to leave you so long. Even though I knew you hated me, I had to be near you. I had to be in your presence. Leaving you was… It was though all the air had been sucked from the room, from every room I walked into. Everywhere was cold, and bare, and empty. My heart ceases to beat when I am not near you. For you own it. Entirely.” His expression was soft, and wanting, and full of something I believed he had never been gifted by anyone in his life.

“For seven months, my heart was frozen. I was consumed with thoughts of you. I saw your face in the face of every woman who passed by. It was a madness, beloved, an all-encompassing madness.”

“So what drove you back?”

“Oh, Evie,” he said with a laugh, shaking his head. “You did, of course. The desire to feel my heart beating again, to see your face, to breathe in your presence.”

“Why did you never try to be kind to me?” I asked, my voice cracking as my throat swelled even more. “Why, not once, did you try to show me any kind of love, or-or-”

“To what end?” Azriel interjected, his face once again stormy. “What good would that have done?”

“I’d have known that you cared, at least.”

“It was preservation, Evie.”

I scoffed, and rose to my feet. “Preservation? Yes, your preservation. Mine be damned.” I strode towards the bedroom, and heavy footsteps pursued me.

“Where are you going? ”

“To bed!” I attempted to slam the door behind me, but it was stopped by his hand. “Leave me alone.”