Sebastian - Dark Bonds (5 page)

Turning back to Sebastian, my fingers toy with the ribbon of my diamond choker.  It’s the first time I’ve worn it since the night he gave it to me.

“I know what you’re doing, Elizabeth.”  He growls darkly, his finger running across his top lip.

“Do you now?”  I pout, my lips moist and sticky with the lip-gloss I stole from Bella’s room earlier.

“Mrs. Dove, be very careful who you play games with,” he warns.  My stockinged knee touches his and I run the toe of my killer heels under his trouser leg and up his shin.

“Games, Lord De Montfort? Whatever do you mean?”  I scoop up my evening purse, push back my chair and rise, leaning forward provocatively so he gets an eyeful of my ample breasts.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, eyebrow cocked.

“Powder room.  I’m going to go into the cubicle, touch myself through my panties, remove them and bring them to you.  Wet.  I’d like you to think about that while I’m gone.”

“I see.  Don’t make yourself come, Elizabeth.  You know I’ll be very angry if you do so without my permission…” His mouth is set in a stern line, his eyes dark and foreboding, daring me to disobey.

With a flick of my hair I totter off in search of the ladies cloakroom, without a backwards glance but I feel his eyes burning into me.  Crap!  I’m playing with fire!

Five minutes later I return.  As I pass him and take my seat, my pink lace panties are dropped into his lap.  He clutches them in his fist and brings them to his face, closing his eyes and breathing in my scent on the lace.

“Fuck, Elizabeth do you have any idea how hard I am?” I reach under the table and brush my fingers over his erection, which grows even harder with my touch.

“Did you obey me?” he challenges.

“Yes, but you seriously owe me later.”

Taking my mobile phone from my purse, I wake the screen and show the image to Sebastian.

“You took a photo of your pussy for me.  I approve.  Perhaps that will lesson your punishment later,” he says.

The waitress returns, putting down warm shells containing Coquille St Jacques. The aroma of parsley and garlic is divine.  Placing my phone down on the table between us, I pop a scallop into my mouth and savor the delicious creamy taste.

My phone pings, signaling a new text message.

Still waiting for your ansa.  Let me know when you want my cock ;-) Si

Sebastian sees the message at the same time as I.  I curse myself for not changing my settings on my phone so that text messages are invisible until opened.  It’s too late he’s seen it.  His jaw sets, his lips snarl, his eyes are dark and threatening.

 
Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck
.

8

“Do you want to try and explain this?” his voice is edgy, cold and menacing.  I feel icy cold, panicky.  Do I lie?  Worth a try …

“Must be a wrong message … I mean sent to the wrong person,” I reply feebly.

“I see.”  He picks up my phone and rises.  Oh shit, he’s leaving me.

“Wait here.  Don’t fucking move.”  He holds my frightened stare for several seconds, daring me to move one inch, then turns and strides out of the restaurant.  Like a deer caught in the proverbial headlights, I’m consumed with fear.  Deciding to defy his instruction, I wait until he’s out of the door and follow.

Sebastian stands on the pavement, his feet apart in an aggressive stance.  My phone is clutched to his ear.  Crap, he’s calling him.

“I’m going to say this once.  Only once.  Do. Not. EVER. Contact. This. Number. Again.”

There’s a pause.

“You’re not understanding me.  If you ever contact this number again you are a dead man.  Now do you understand?  Good.”  He cuts the call and spins round on his heels.  I have never seen him look so angry, his eyes meet mine, and the burning black coals cut through my soul.

“Sebastian … let me explain.” 

Slap! The sharp sting to my face, delivered by his large hand drives all the air from my lungs as tears spring to my eyes.

“Sebastian …” I gasp.

He puts his finger to his lips to silence me, and clenches his fists, sighing deeply and at that moment I see the pain in his eyes and it breaks my heart.

“Come with me.”  He takes my hand and leads me back into the restaurant.  What the hell?

Seated back at our table, the waitress fusses around our table, clearly concerned that we had been ‘dine and dash’ customers.

“Is everything alright with your food?” she asks Sebastian.

“Fine.  Yes.”  He flicks his hand at her, dismissively and spears a scallop with his fork.

“Talk to me,” I beseech him, my hand rubbing at my smarting cheek.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Elizabeth.  You are mine.  If you ever do this to me again, it will be the worse day of your fucking life.”  His words cut through me like a knife.

“I will never share you.  Is that clear?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Good.  Now eat.”

He takes me brutally.  The loving intimacy of last night is lost in the savagery of his lust tonight.  He is reclaiming what is his.  I let him do this to me, taking my punishment in the hope that it will restore Sebastian to me.  I am his.

9

Two weeks pass and I have spent quality time with my mother who is trying to be upbeat about Cornwall.  I can see the pain in her eyes though and know she is going to miss Bella and I terribly when we leave.

It’s the second week of May.  Just two weeks until we leave for Penmorrow, and Bella is sitting her final exam on Monday. 

Sebastian hasn’t mentioned Simon again but has been cooler and more reserved on the telephone.  I’m missing him so.  I hope that I can prove my loyalty to him during the summer at Penmorrow, and restore his trust in my fidelity.

Feeling in higher spirits today, I call into the office to surprise Ruth and the team for an impromptu visit.  I find a parking space several blocks from the office, but even the long walk doesn’t dampen my mood.  I stop at a bakery and buy a large bag of freshly baked donuts for my staff.

  Sauntering past the window of Chic Shoes, my attention is drawn to the most beautiful, but painfully high-heeled red shoes.  Sebastian would adore these shoes.  They are saucy and daring and I simply have to buy them.  Staring at the shoes, I notice a reflection in the plate glass.  It’s a pale faced woman standing directly behind me, and I turn with a start.  The woman appears to be in her late sixties, has limp badly dyed auburn hair with grey roots and is dressed in navy blue trousers, teamed with green loose knit jumper, both bearing stains.  She is staring at me, dark shadows beneath her eyes and I presume she’s a vagrant seeking spare change for a meal.  I reach for my purse and retrieve two pounds and hand it to her but to my surprise, she regards the proffered money with disdain and shakes her head.

“I know who you are,” she whispers.

“You do? Um… I’m sorry, do I know you?” I ask hesitantly.

“You’re his latest woman.”  My eyes widen, and I feel the hairs stand up on my arms and my scalp prickles.  For some reason I can’t yet fathom, the woman looks familiar but I can’t place her. I raise an eyebrow enquiringly and take a step back putting a little distance between the woman and myself. 

“Elizabeth Dove.  No dear, you don’t know me but we have a mutual friend.  Scarlett.

“Scarlett at Penmorrow?” I ask, the confusion apparent in my voice.  “How do you know Scarlett?  And Sebastian?”

      She regards me with a cold stare, her lips now twisted into an insolent smile. 

“Scarlett was good to my daughter… so kind.  She tried to warn me.  I didn’t listen to her.  If only I’d listened… but it’s not too late for you…” Her eyes take on a wildness darting from me to those around us in the street. 

I begin to take her seriously, realizing that she is no longer the vagrant and I’m no longer an arbitrary stranger selected randomly in anticipation of gaining a few coins for a meal.

“How do you know about me?” I need to understand how this woman found me and what her connection to Sebastian is.  “How did you find me?”

“Scarlett.  She writes to me, you know?  She’s a good girl.  What that monster has done to her… and to my dear, lost, daughter…I can’t let it happen to you too.”  Her eyes have a glassy vacant look now, as though she is lost in deeply dark thoughts and memories and my pulse quickens as I become increasingly anxious. 

She continues,  “she told me about you.  Sent me a photograph she’d found on the internet.  Your business, it’s all on the internet dear.  I’m too old now to understand these things, but she sent me a copy and a cutting from a newspaper about your dear boy and husband.  Oh my dear, it pained me so, to see what he’s done to you already… such a waste, a young life and a man who had already lost you to him.”

“Stop!” I command.  I can’t take in all that she’s saying to me.  It is too surreal.  I feel light headed and my mouth is dry. 

“I don’t understand.  Are you saying your daughter knows Sebastian?”

“My daughter… was married to that animal.” 

Now it makes sense to me.  The familiarity of the woman’s face – so alike the photograph of Sebastian’s mad dead wife.  The connection enables me to begin to understand this woman’s ranting.  Perhaps her madness was hereditary.  I’m being unkind, I realize, grief of losing a child can drive a person mad.  I share the loss of a child with this stranger and I scold myself for not feeling more empathy for her pain.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know your name?” I ask.

“Christina Travis,” she replies forlornly.

“Look, Christina, I’m so very sorry for your loss.  Really I am.  Sebastian speaks so fondly of your daughter and… I know they were very happy and in love.” 

Her eyes widen and a flicker of anger, or something darker, sparks across her gaze but I continue to try and placate her. 

“It was dreadfully sad, tragic, that she passed away but you really mustn’t worry about me.  Sebastian has been kind to me, to my family.  I’m a good enough judge of character to know that he’s not malicious or cruel.”  Christina puts a hand on my arm, firmly grasping the fabric of my sleeve.

“Why won’t you listen to me?  He’s brainwashed you.  Just like he brainwashed Scarlett and my precious girl.  I’m telling you… he caused the death of my girl.  As good as murdered her.  Do you understand?  She was beautiful and full of life and then she met him and how she changed.  Can you imagine what that was like for me, her mother?  To watch my vibrant daughter’s life being eroded in the vilest way?  Can you?”

Her voice rises to a shrill pitch and her grip on my arm tightens until I wince.  I have heard enough.  The woman is demented.  I pull my arm sharply from her grip and step further back from her, she steps toward me wild-eyed and I turn and run.

10

Throwing open the door to my office building, I check she’s not behind me then lock the door quickly.  I stumble to the ladies cloakroom and lock myself in to a cubicle, and sit down onto the toilet seat.  My hands are trembling, and my pulse is drumming inside my head and through every vein.  Taking deep, slow breaths I gradually avert the panic attack, which is looming and try to begin to rationalize what has just taken place.  I decide to call Sebastian for reassurance.

“Elizabeth, darling, how lovely to hear from you,” he says in his gravelly seductive voice which immediately calms me.  “How are you?”

“Not good actually” I reply. 

He’s silent for a moment and when he next speaks there’s a discernable apprehension in his voice.

“What’s wrong darling?”

“The weirdest thing just happened.  I was heading to my office when an older lady stopped me.  She looked like a tramp, I tried to give her a couple of pounds.  Then… she knew my name.”

“Who was she?” he asks quietly.

“That’s where it gets really weird, Sebastian.  She is. Was. Your mother in law.”  I hear Sebastian take a sharp intake of breath and he is silent again for several seconds.

“I see.  And what did the mad witch say to you?”  Goodness, he sounds really angry and I wonder whether I should progress this conversation.

“She… warned me.”

“About?” His tone is sharp and my anxiety returns, fearful of Sebastian’s volatility.

“About you actually.” I say boldly.

“Did she now?  What exactly did the poisonous old bat say?” He demands venomously.

“That you… as good as murdered her daughter.”  As I diffidently recount the claim to Sebastian I fear the wrath of his response.

“Fuck it, Elizabeth.  She’s a senile old woman who is grieving.  You, more than most will surely understand how the loss of one’s child can impede one’s rationality.  She could never come to terms with Libby’s mental illness, so it tipped her over the edge when Libby killed herself.  She’s always blamed me.  Hell, I’ve blamed myself enough times.  That doesn’t mean I murdered her Elizabeth for Christ’s sake.  How about a little loyalty?”

“Oh no.  Oh God I didn’t believe her.  Please don’t think I doubted you at all.  I told her what a good man you are.”  Panic rises up from my belly as Sebastian spits the words and turns his anger upon me.