Page 45 of Unseen

A FATEFUL PROMISE

W e settled into a strange sort of peace then, isolated within the walls in Linmere while the world warned us to stay away. Azriel went out to conduct his business, to meet with his associates, and to of course drag back all manner of gifts to keep me diverted.

The days grew colder, and the house began to prepare for Christmas.

Mary and I decorated a delightful spruce, with red and gold baubles, and a truly admirable number of candles.

It stood pride of place in the drawing room, and the entire house felt cheery and cosy.

For the first time since I had stepped foot within its walls, Linmere felt like home.

But every time I gazed outside at the world that lay beyond the windows, uneasiness crept over me.

I knew within myself that perhaps London would not be a welcoming home for us for much longer, and indeed the entirety of England did not seem to hold any promise of security.

No matter where we went, we would still be Mr and Mrs Caine, married illicitly, a union shrouded in shame.

In the moments where I could push all the dread and anxiety about our situation aside, there was a certain bliss in discovering each other as man and wife.

Azriel insisted on sleeping in bed together, every night, something which positively flummoxed Mary.

Too often the poor thing would be scampering away with a shriek, eyes covered as she had once again entered the room to discover a naked Azriel laid out in my bed.

Azriel, in his eternal black humour, simply laughed and claimed it to be good practice for when the young girl was wed.

And then there were those nights spent together.

I wondered about myself, had I received a more liberal upbringing, had I not grown up in a family that was quite so conservative, quite so secretive about marital relations, indeed what kind of woman I would have grown to become.

Because now, living in the house with my husband, and no one else for company, I found myself turning into a woman I would not have recognised three months prior.

Azriel was a keen instructor, showing me all the ways the body could feel and bestow pleasure.

Some nights he was gentle, showing me with calm words and soft caresses where and how to touch.

He often had me touch myself, exploring my own body, bringing myself to orgasm as he watched on with open and wanting lust.

His hunger for pleasuring me with his mouth was inhuman. He outright longed for it. Most nights he would not penetrate me until he had tasted me, my sex quivering against his tongue as he moaned, then drove me through sweet torture again.

And then there was the night when he poured oil all over my backside, after I was a spent and trembling mess on the bed, and he told me he would stop if it hurt. I was anxious and yet thrilled, this act that was so vile, so lewd that it was indeed criminal.

And hurt it had, for my husband was endowed with a member that I was sure was simply another sign that was sent straight from hell.

But once the pain had subsided, once my body had welcomed the intrusion after more liberal splashes of oil, I had moaned and panted and sweated my way through the act, coming to completion in a way I had never expected nor experienced.

The soreness I had felt the next day made me implore Azriel to not do it again, but he had laughed and said that all I needed was practice. He did not, to his credit, attempt it again.

I was sure it was a kind of addiction, a dependency, that I was developing on this man. Unraveling me, taking me apart piece by piece, discovering my innermost secrets, I had begun to question what I truly felt for him. Could I love him?

The next time my monthlies came, I stared at my soiled undergarments, and felt true shock, for the very first time.

“Oh dear,” Mary murmured, and crossed the bathroom to help me finish undressing. “Now, now, madam, you mustn’t be upset.”

“I-I’m not, truly.” My hands shook as I wound my hair atop my head, and secured it with a long pin.

“Sometimes the blessings can take some time to come,” Mary said gently, taking my hand and helping me into the tub.

“I am not at all concerned, Mary.” I pasted a smile on my face, and sank into the warm water. “I am still young, there is plenty of time.”

“You are right, madam. You shall have a beautiful baby in your arms before you know it.”

Those words sent a completely foreign sensation into my very being.

Where I had never once entertained the idea of being a mother, where I had indeed done all I could to prevent becoming one, I was now with a husband whose seed I was no longer washing away.

He filled me, sometimes more than once, every night.

I should have been abundantly sired by now.

For the first time, I felt dread.

What if I had somehow damaged myself? What if I had been a fool listening to the one devious piece of advice from a girl at school about contraception, and it had in fact rendered me infertile?

Or worse still - what if I had always been barren?

“Mr Caine’s Christmas gift arrived.” Mary’s bright voice tore me from my reverie, and I met her bright smile. “Fashioned just as you asked. I am sure he will be thrilled.”

“Yes, I hope so.”

A knock sounded in the distance, followed swiftly by heavy footsteps through my bedroom. Mary instantly squeaked and hurried out, her figure passing through the door moments before Azriel strode into the bathroom.

“Hello, beloved.” He smiled widely, looking over me hungrily in the tub. “I love finding you like this when I return home.”

“I am sure you do.” I tried to return his smile, but it was weak and insincere, and instantly his brow furrowed.

“Evie? Has something happened?” He stepped towards the tub, and I huffed out a breath.

“I am convinced you are a witch. How in heaven’s name can you always sense when something is wrong?”

“Because to me you are an open book.” He knelt down beside the tub, and took my hand. “I can see all is not well. What has happened?”

I sighed heavily, staring at the water pooled around me, one tendril of hair come loose from my head now floating on its surface. “My… monthlies have arrived. I am not pregnant.” I felt almost sheepish as I glanced back at him. “I am sorry.”

“What the devil for?”

“For… Well… Not doing-”

“If you say, ‘Not doing my duty’, I am going to put you over my knee, and not for fun.” He eyed me sternly and shook his head.

I covered my mouth as an embarrassed laugh escaped me. “You are a cad.”

“And you are a little fool.”

“You did say you were going to breed me like a brood mare as you saw fit.” I splashed some water at him, and his frown was replaced by a grin.

“I did say that, and I still intend to. But good things take time.”

My playfulness vanished as quickly as it had arrived. “And what if I cannot? What then?”

Azriel shrugged, clutching my hand. “What then? Do you think I am going to toss you aside because you cannot bear me an heir?”

“Won’t you?”

His jaw ticked, and his eyes darkened. With a sudden rush, he rose to his feet, and I shrieked as Azriel climbed into the tub, fully clothed, water sloshing over the sides.

“What are you doing?” I cried, half laughing, half gasping. “Azriel, you are mad!”

He braced his arms either side of me, caging me beneath him, and gazed down at me.

“I have told you before, and I shall say it again - nothing could make me give you up. Nothing, do you hear me? Children, no children, it matters not. You are the woman of my heart, the only thing I desire. Do you understand?”

I nodded, my hands curled under my chin. “Yes.”

“Good.” He removed one hand to reach down into the water, and I wondered for a moment what he was doing, when I suddenly felt his length pressing against my thigh.

I stared up at him with wide eyes. “What are you doing? ”

“Reminding my wife who this pretty cunt belongs to.” He thrust into me, hard, and I gasped, clenching my eyes shut, my hands flying to his shoulders as he ground himself into me.

The water raged around us as he kept his rhythm, his mouth pressed to my jaw, kissing and licking my skin.

“Are you going to come for me, Evie?” He panted, groaning as I wrapped my legs around his hips. “Are you going to be my good little whore?”

“Yes,” I moaned, my head tipping back into the water. “My god, yes. Please.”

A frantic banging on the door had us both stopping, looking at each other first with halted lust, then confusion.

“What?” Azriel barked over his shoulder.

“Pardon me, sir, but your aunt… I mean, madam’s aunt… I mean, Lady Brimworth is here.”

“What in heaven’s name?” I pushed my hair from my face, shaking my head. “What is she doing here?”

Azriel growled out a breath between his gritted teeth. “We shall be along shortly!” He called, before smiling down at me. “We shall have to resume this later, beloved.” He rose out of the bath, sopping wet and dripping water all over the floor.

“What could she possibly be here for?” I asked as I climbed out of tub and wrapped a white robe around me. “Showing up unannounced in this manner?” My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh god, Azriel, perhaps my father-”

“Do not worry yourself, beloved.” He curled his hands around my shoulders and dropped a kiss on my forehead. “I am sure the mean old bat is merely here to land more of her empty threats. Nothing more. Wait for me, would you? We shall go down together.”

He left the bathroom amid squelching and squishing as his clothes dripped water all over the floor, and somewhere, Mary once again shrieked loudly. The poor girl was certainly not having it easy with us.

But I had no time to dwell on my humiliation at Mary overhearing our interlude in the tub, as the girl came rushing in to help me ready myself for my aunt’s visit.

Mary fussed as she helped me into a burnished orange dress, and set about tidying my hair at least passably, fastening it with a gold and mother-of-pearl comb.