Retribution (Sebastian Trilogy Book 3) (3 page)

Seating myself opposite her, I regard her closely
.
“I do believe that you would never harm him. What I don’t believe is that you wouldn’t harm me.
”
We sit in an uncomfortable silence. The steaming porridge looks so tempting. My stomach rumbles as I play with the spoon set beside the bowl.
It’s just porridge, Beth; you’ve seen her make it. Did she crush anything into it? No, she didn’t, so stop being irrational and eat
. It tastes so good, the warm gloop filling my belly, the honey sweetening my bitter mood.

“Do you want me to leave?
”
she whispers.

“Yes. I do. Will you?”

“If that’s what His Lordship wants, then yes I will. I see how happy you make him, do you know how painful that is for me?” Her voice cracks as tears spill down her high cheekbones. She wipes them away with the back of her hand
.
“All I’ve ever wanted is to make him happy.”

“I’m sure you did, Scarlett. You were here for him when Libby died and that would have meant a great deal to him, but I’m here now. He has a family and it’s time you accepted that and moved on.”

She rises and scrapes her uneaten porridge into the bin before returning to the table and collecting my empty dish. Suddenly I feel sorry for her. Pity is not an emotion that I anticipated feeling toward her but she looks bereft, lost and childlike
.
“Why don’t you stay for the party and then go?”

She lifts her red-rimmed eyes to mine and smiles
.
“Yes, I’d like that, thank you. Let’s go over the plans. I’ve worked hard to prepare the very best party for you. Everything’s ready.”

Yawning, I try to focus on the details of my party but fatigue grips me and it’s all I can do to stay awake. “Are you sick?
”
Scarlett looks concerned.

“No. I’m just tired. Too much brandy last night. When we’ve finished going over the itinerary for the party, I’ll grab another hour in bed.”

The sun is low and shadows cast over the room create shapes that look like demons. My eyes fix on a demon with a tail, which lurks next to the bathroom door. It is still, just a shadow. No such thing as demons. The demon moves, a flick of its tail, nothing more but it’s enough to make me scream.

“What’s wrong, Mrs. Dove?” Scarlett appears in the doorway, her face etched with concern. I’m sitting up in bed now, the demon hasn’t moved again but I’m watching it. I’m watching you. I’m watching both of you: Scarlett the demon and the shadow demon.

“Mrs. Dove, are you sick? Shall I call His Lordship?”

“I’m fine. What time is it?” Blinking my eyes very fast makes the tail flick. Must not blink. Must not blink.

“Six-thirty. You’ve been asleep for hours. I didn’t want to disturb you but if you need something…?”

“What? Where did the day go? I must be sick, I never sleep in the day.” My balled fists rub the remnants of sleep from my gritty eyes, which now watch Scarlett. Her eyes glow red. Demon. I rub them again. Blue eyes staring back at me
.
“I saw that. I saw what you did with your eyes.”

“I’ll bring you a tray of supper, Mrs. Dove. Stay in bed and I’ll get you some analgesics. I think you must have a fever, you’re hallucinating.” She turns and walks away and as she goes, her tail flicks against the doorframe. The wooden frame ignites where her tail caught it, embers glow and then combust. The burning frame becomes a ball of orange fire, and the fireball rolls across the carpet toward the bed. I can’t scream because my lungs are burning, the orange flames are travelling down my esophagus, melting my bronchioles and even thrashing at my chest with a pillow doesn’t extinguish the flames. Reaching to the nightstand, I clutch the glass of water and gulp as though my life depends on it. The flames go out, the pain is gone. I won. I’m alive. I won.

There is no fire. There are no demons. Everything is as it should be and Scarlett is placing a tray on the nightstand. She’s cooked me an omelet but I’m not hungry. “You’re sweating,
”
she observes
.
“Here, take these.” She places two tablets in my hand and passes me a fresh glass of water before going to the bathroom and returning with a damp flannel. She gently lays the cooling cloth on my forehead and wipes away the beads of perspiration from my hot skin. It feels so refreshing. She lifts my hand to my mouth and helps me to put the tablets on my tongue. Her hand cups mine and she raises the glass to my lips. I swallow the pills like a good girl.

“Thank you, Scarlett.”

“You’re welcome. I need to take care of you,
”
she murmurs.

***

Sebastian tenderly kisses my forehead. My eyes feel heavy as they blink open, adjusting to the artificial light from the bedside lamp. “Hey, darling. How are you feeling?” His fingers lightly stroke my cheek.

“I’m sick,
”
I reply feebly.

“I know, darling. Scarlett told me. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you today.”

“That’s okay, Scarlett took care of me.
”
The irony of my words is lost on me.

“Scarlett was very worried about you. She sent me a text this evening saying you were running a high temperature, so I came straight back. The traffic was diabolical on the M4, it took us nearly four hours.”

“You’re here now. Thank you,
”
I smile up at him and run a finger over his pouting lips
.
“Just seeing you makes me feel better. Is Bella home? Did she have a good time?”

“Bella’s fine. She spent all the money I gave her and is busy in her room trying on the plethora of clothes she bought. She’s had a wonderful day. We went for lunch together at my club.”

“You have a club?
”
I ask. Has he mentioned a club before?

“I’m a member. I don’t own it.
”
He chuckles
.
“It’s in Pal Mal. I’ll take you there for lunch one day soon. They have some very elegant bedrooms there too.
”
He grins salaciously
.
“Anyway, you need to get well. It’s your party soon.”

“I’m feeling better already,
”
I lie.

Chapter 3

It’s the day before my fortieth birthday and I have a list of final preparations, yet feel riddled with panic and anxiety, this being the largest social event I have ever hosted. With so many of Sebastian’s friends and acquaintances attending I feel the enormity of the task at hand, even if Sebastian and Scarlett have taken over much of the planning. I have to make a good impression on those Sebastian cares about; I need them to like me.

Sebastian is back from his ride early this morning but, even so, it irritates me that today of all days he still went for a ride when there is so much to do. He’s in the kitchen munching on toast and reading
The Times
. Clearing up the scattering of crumbs he has left on the breadboard, I ignore him purposefully
.
“Leave that, Elizabeth. Scarlett can do it.
”

“Scarlett can’t do it. She has one hundred jobs to do today, Sebastian,
”
I scold, casting the breadboard into the enamel butler sink with a loud clatter.

“I said leave it.
”
His tone is not one to challenge; he does not like being disobeyed.
Tough.
You have no idea the stress I am under today, mister.

“You seem very laid back, Sebastian. It’s fine for you, you know everyone who is coming, whereas I feel I’m going to be judged by thirty strangers who all knew Libby and will no doubt be comparing us and realising that you’ve landed a neurotic crazy lady.”

“Which is exactly what you sound like right now,
”
he observes coolly.

“Oh, well, pardon me for being ever so slightly nervous. I didn’t want a sodding party anyway.
”
I know how ungrateful and childish I sound but I’m so tired I have little control over what escapes my lips.

“That’s gratitude for you. Come with me.
”
He rises from the pew and takes my hand, pulling me roughly in the direction of the hall. He casts a glance at me. His eyes are narrowed, dark. He has a steely resolve.

“Ouch, leave me alone,
”
I hiss, trying unsuccessfully to retrieve my hand. “Where are you taking me? I’ve not got time for your games.”

“You’ll see. Games are exactly what you need, my girl. We are going to relieve some of this stress.
”
Oh shit
. This is not at all what I need. I need to get on with the plethora of jobs that have to be done today. He is determinedly striding toward his study with me in tow, pulling against him and shuffling like an errant child. When we reach the steps to the cellar I know precisely what he has planned for me and I am not happy about it, not happy at all.

“You’re an inconsiderate pig, Sebastian. Do you know that?
”
Knowing that such words will only be used against me shortly, I plough on regardless. “All you can think about is your dick, when I have so much to do. You are adding to my stress, not relieving it.”

“Carry on ranting, Elizabeth. It won’t make a jot of difference to me, it may however make it harder for you to sit down.”

“Sebastian. You wouldn’t!”

“Oh. You know I would.” Sebastian flicks the switch illuminating the small chamber. The edge of the circular bed presses into the backs of my thighs. He has locked the door, rendering escape impossible, fanning the flames of anger within me. Pacing back and forth, his back to the door, his breath comes in short pants, nostrils flaring like a stallion who has been ridden hard. His long fingers stroke his chin as he decides what to do with me.

“Sebastian, I have to—
”
Before I can finish, he steps forward, grasping a handful of my hair he pulls my mouth to his, kissing me roughly. Involuntarily, my body responds as it always does, my pulse quickening, cheeks flushing and a warm burn emanating from the apex of my thighs. Abruptly, his mouth leaves mine as an anguished moan escapes my lips. I’m torn. I am totally stressed yet my body is betraying me yet again. I have never before encountered a man who has this effect on me and I chastise myself for being so weak in his presence. Before I can utter a further protestation, he flicks the light switch and we are plunged into inky black darkness. This throws me and I feel utterly vulnerable yet my breath quickens with the thrill of expectancy. I hear his rapid breathing close to my ear. Turning my head to my right, my lips seek his but are left wanting. Reaching my hands in front of me, I feel for him but his breathing is quieter, more distant.

“Stop playing games.
”
I turn my head listening for sounds, my remaining senses compensating for the loss of sight. I smell his delicious scent. He’s close. I hear the swish of fabric falling to the floor followed by the sound of a zipper being pulled. I taste the salty beads of perspiration forming on my top lip. I feel fingertips brushing against my outstretched left wrist, trailing down to my own fingertips and then his touch is gone. “Sebastian. I don’t have time for this. Where are you?
”

Silence. Losing patience, I take a tentative step forward in the direction I believe the door to be. He grasps my left wrist, my hand is lifted up and my fingertips brush against a roughness I know to be his unshaven chin. He raises my fingers a little farther; the roughness replaced with the softness of his lips which part. I hear his breath catch as my index finger touches the warm wetness of his tongue. His lips close around my finger, his teeth gently pressing against the pad and nail.

My own breath catches, I gasp as deft fingers tug the hem of my top, lifting it above my head, my finger slipping from his mouth, my arms automatically rising to allow the easy removal of the garment. I feel the gentle breeze against my cheek as my top floats past my head to the floor. His hot breath is on my neck sending a shiver down the length of my spine. He deftly unclasps my bra which drops away, freeing my aching nipples. I await the touch of his lips on my throbbing buds. Instead he unfastens my skirt, sliding it down over my hips so that it pools over my feet.

“Sebastian, please.”

“Shh.
”
His whispered rebuke blows warm on my stomach. My abdominal muscles clench as he swiftly tugs down my panties, which join the skirt at my feet. I am exposed, vulnerable, aroused. All thoughts of schedules are gone from my mind, replaced with illicit desires. Never has he been so sensual, so gentle in this room. He traces a finger lightly from my left thigh, upwards past my hip, my side, across to my left nipple. Circling my areola, he traces across my sternum and repeats the feather-light motion on my right nipple, forcing me to arch my back, thrusting my breasts forward. I truly believe he can make me climax this way, such is my desperate need. His finger continues its journey down my right hip, to my thigh and crosses to where I need it to be, on my clitoris. Biting my bottom lip, I will him to end my torment, knowing it will take only a moment more of his rubbing to tease from my body the release that I crave. As the first spasm builds, his finger stills.

A cry of anguish leaves my lips. I desperately reach out for him. Finding his muscular arms, I clutch them and step forward until my nose bumps against his chest, the thick hair tickling my face. His arms encircle me as my tongue laps at his skin, my mouth kissing his chest hungrily. I rock up on tiptoes and kiss his neck then nibble at his earlobe as he clutches my buttocks, pulling me in closer until I feel his erection pressing into my belly.

“Tell me what you need, Elizabeth.”

“I need you. I need you inside me,
”
I mumble, my hands tangling in his thick hair.

A growl hails from his throat and in a swift stroke he pivots us, thrusting me hard against the cold stone wall, forcing the air from my lungs. He lifts me as though I am a feather, my legs guided around his waist, my thighs squeezing to gain purchase as the darkness disorientates me still. In one swift movement he pins me in place with his muscular frame and bites at my shoulder, but the pain enflames the pleasure as he releases me just enough that I drop down hard onto his erection.

“You bastard,
”
I hiss, but the anger is at myself for loving what he is doing to me and at my body for responding so defiantly. I clutch his hair, tugging at the roots so firmly that he curses against my breast, elevates my ass and drops me down even harder onto him. He doesn’t speak, nor whisper his love but his lips find mine, and his bruising kiss tells me more than words alone ever could. His teeth and his tongue declare his love and the rapturous cry as he empties within absolves me of insecurities and fears. Liberated, my soul is free to soar as I succumb to the momentary release he has given me. Spent and slick, we glide down the wall to a breathless heap on the cobbles.

“Elizabeth,
”
he whispers as our breathing settles. He strokes my hair tenderly, his cheek pressed against mine.

“Mmm?”

“Whenever you see darkness, don’t I guide you to the light?”

A little drowsy, but nonetheless thrown by his profound question, I reach for his cheek and stroke it with my thumb. “Yes.” My lips lightly brush his. “My world was in darkness after the accident. Your love has been a brighter light than I ever could have believed possible, but…”

“But?”

“There is still darkness, Sebastian, and I don’t feel I can talk to you about it.”

“Scarlett.
”
He tenses and I feel his jaw set under my thumb.

“Yes. Scarlett. We have to talk about her. I mean, really talk.
”
Prying myself from the weight of his body, I stand and pat my hand along the wall until I locate the light switch. Flicking the switch down, we both blink momentarily as our eyes adjust to the light. Sitting beside Sebastian on the cold cobbled floor, I take his hand in mine and stroke his palm. “I know how much you care for her and I’m not trying to come between you. You do believe me, don’t you?”

He pulls his hand away and rakes it through his messy hair, sighing deeply. His eyes are dark coals framed by long black lashes and are etched with pain. “Yes. I believe you. I just…”

“You just what, darling?”

“I just don’t want to. I can’t believe that Scarlett would be capable of harming anyone. If it’s true, then where does it stop?
”
He pauses, mouth open. He meets my gaze, a look of shock on his face. “Where did it start? Libby?
”
A lone tear trickles down his cheek. I wipe it away tenderly with my thumb. He looks utterly lost. “Oh fuck, Elizabeth.”

“I have no idea.
”
I sigh. “I just know what my gut tells me. What she herself told me.”

“But you were drunk. How? How can you be sure of what she said? How can you be sure she wasn’t being spiteful? We all say things—
”
My index finger presses to his lips, silencing him.

“I can’t be entirely sure, but I know how she makes me feel. I remember much of what she said, Sebastian, and I know I haven’t felt right for a while now.”

“You think she’s harming you?
”
Pulling away from my touch, he regards me incredulously. “For fuck’s sake, Elizabeth. I’m here. How would she be harming you without me knowing about it?”

Trying to calm him, I soften my tone before the conversation we must have becomes a fight. “I’m just being honest with you. I don’t have the answers, Sebastian.”

“No, you don’t. What you have is a bunch of serious fucking allegations which are totally lacking in any substance or evidence.
”
His words hurt but I listen quietly. “You weren’t here when Libby was sick. You have no idea what you’re talking about. Scarlett was here. She was my rock when my whole fucking world fell apart. Is that someone who is capable of murder?
”
He rakes his hair again then drags his hand across his jaw.

“I know it hurts you.”

“Do you? How fucking understanding of you.
”
His profanities shock me but I can see past the anger to the hurt in his dark hooded eyes. Fear. I see fear in his eyes for the first time; my strong Sebastian is scared.

“She’s agreed to go. If you want her to, she will leave.
”
He stiffens but remains silent. Sucking in a deep breath, I tell him, “I want her to go.”

“So she’s tried, judged, and sentenced just like that?
”
he spits.

“We don’t need her here. I want to look after you. You’re mine, not hers.”

“Is that what this is really about?
”
His icy stare meets mine. I avert my eyes. “Fucking jealousy?”

“No.
”
Tears prick my eyes. “I’m scared too,
”
I whisper.

My tears dampen his anger and he takes my hand in his. “I would die if you were harmed, Elizabeth. After Libby passed, a part of me died too, and I didn’t think I’d ever be happy again. Then you…tumbled into my life, all muddy and awkward.
”
His lip curls at the memory. “You were the most beautiful thing I’d seen, so complex, so…difficult, yet I had to have you.”