Katy stares at me and bites her bottom lip. Gods, he is truly out of it if he thinks Katy is his childhood nurse.
“Please don’t make me! I’ll be good! Please don’t make me!”
Lucien looks over his shoulder at me, winces, and curls up closer to Katy.
“Please! Please! Please!”
My heart is thrumming. My hands are shaking. My throat is tight. I could tell myself Lucien is hysterical. If he thinks Katy is his nanny, then there is no saying who he thinks I am. This fear and dread is not for me. It is for someone else. But there is a frightening amount of recognition in his eyes.
I have to face the truth. My vessel is terrified of me. Of my attentions. Henderson said so, and while he is a creep, he has no reason to lie.
Besides, it makes horrifying sense. I don’t like Lucien. I was addled on our wedding night. My bitterness may well have been unleashed. I have no idea how I treated him for his first time. And then I was addled again when he was ripe.
Add in the fact that Lucien is very prim and proper. Extremely traditional. And these very things I find distasteful about him, could have made him far less experienced than I have assumed.
Oh gods. Heaven help us. This is far beyond a nightmare.
Because, even if by some miracle I’m mistaken, this terror pouring from Lucien, is for someone. If not me, someone else has hurt this boy very badly.
All in all, the truth is now plain for me to see. I’ve been so very, very wrong. Lucien isn’t a stuck up little twat. He is a broken, damaged and hurting young man.
One I have been nothing but awful to.
“I’ll…I’ll leave you to it,” I stutter like the coward I am.
Then I turn and flee.
Chapter eleven
Lucien
Rain is beating at the windows and turning the weak winter daylight as dark as night. Quite fitting for my mood. I think I will forever be too ashamed and embarrassed to leave my bed. What must Felford think of me? I had a complete breakdown. I was utterly hysterical. For hours. It would serve me right if he ships me off to an asylum.
The door opens, and my stomach rumbles in response. It must be lunchtime. Except, oh my gods, that’s not Katy or another member of staff, that’s Felford carrying a tray into my room. Why, oh why, is he here?
My shaky hands reach for the covers.
“No! No, don’t get up!” says Felford.
I release the covers and sink back against the mountain of pillows propping me up. Felford places the tray over my lap. The soup looks delicious and the bread roll looks freshly baked.
“Thank you, my lord husband,” I manage to croak out.
He seats himself on the edge of my bed and fixes his gaze on me. His proximity and attention are consuming all of my senses, but he quite clearly wishes for me to eat, or why else would he have served me with his own hands? I swallow and pick up my spoon. The soup truly is delicious. I take three spoonfuls and then place the spoon neatly down.
“Is there something wrong with the soup?” growls Felford.
“No, no, not at all. It’s wonderful,” I nearly stutter.
It is so hard to not end with, ‘my lord husband’. But he doesn’t like it. I forget that far too much. I must do better.
Silence. Somewhere a clock ticks.
“Are you sick?” Felford asks.
My heart flutters frantically against my ribcage. “No! I’m feeling much better, thank you, my lord husband.”
Damn it! I slipped up. Again.
Felford’s hand rests on my knee, on top of the covers. Every part of me focuses on the feel of his touch. It is consuming all of my awareness.
“I’m not calling the healer,” he says. “You are never seeing Henderson again.”
His words pull me back from wherever my mind had wandered off to. I’m never seeing Henderson again? That is surprising, and confusing, but most welcome news. My neck twitches and I almost look at Felford, but I keep my head down. It is not my place to ask questions and I must remember that.
“I…um…am sorry I accused you of having an affair.”
Oh gods. The healer must have told him everything. I don’t know whether to be relieved or mortified. Is it possible to be both? This is all so overwhelming.
“So why aren’t you finishing your lunch?” asks Felford quietly. Drawing my attention back to the here and now.
He seems truly concerned. Which is extremely bewildering. But I need to put his mind at rest.
“It’s rude to be greedy. No one wants to see a vessel gorge themselves.” I explain, even though surely he knows this.
Felford draws in a sharp breath. “You truly believe this?”
“Of course I believe my parents and my trainer!” I say far too sharply.
