Neferet's Curse (House of Night Novellas #3)(38)

Father had stood alone, glowering, as the lovely, well-upholstered carriage had driven away with Mr. Simpton and me smiling and waving.

It had seemed that I was a princess who had finally found her prince.

* * *

Wheiler House was unusually still and dark when the Simpton carriage left me on the walkway to the front door. Mr. Simpton had wanted to see me inside, but I had protested that he not inflame his leg any more than necessary, and explained that Father’s valet, as well as my maid, would be waiting within.

Then I’d done something that had surprised myself. I’d leaned down and kissed the old man’s cheek.

“Thank you, sir. I owe you my gratitude. Tonight you saved me—twice.”

“Oh, not at all! I’m pleased by Arthur’s choice. Get well, child. We will talk again soon.”

I’d been thinking how fortunate I was to have found Arthur and his affable parents when I entered our foyer and lit the gaslight within. After the soothing darkness of the carriage and the night, the light seemed to send spikes through my temples and I snuffed it out immediately.

“Mary!” I’d called. The house didn’t stir. “Carson! Hello!” I called again, but my words dissolved within a terrible cough.

I’d longed for the comforting shadows of my garden and the concealing darkness beneath my willow—how I believed it would have soothed me! But I was feeling so very ill that I knew I must get abed. Truth be told, the severity of my cough and the burning of my fever was beginning to frighten me. I struggled up the three flights of stairs, wishing Mary would hear me and appear to help me.

I was still alone when I made it to my bedchamber, pulled the cord that would ring the summoning bell in Mary’s small, basement room, and collapsed on my bed. I have no idea how long I lay there, struggling to breathe. It seemed a very long time. I’d felt like sobbing. Where was Mary? Why had I been left alone? I’d tried to unhook the tight little buttons that ran from the back of my neck all the way down to my waist and to take off the green silk gown that was so restrictive, but even feeling completely well that would have been nearly impossible. That night I hadn’t even been able to manage unclasping Mother’s pearls.

Fully dressed, I lay on my bed, gasping for breath between coughs, in a state that was more dreamlike than awake. A wave of weakness washed through me, closing my eyes. I believe I might have slept then because when next my senses registered the world around me, I thought I was in the grip of a hideous nightmare.

I’d smelled him before I’d been able to open my eyes. The scent of brandy, sour breath, sweat, and cigars filled my bedchamber.

I’d forced my eyes open. He had been a hulking shadow over my bed.

“Mary?” I’d spoken her name because I hadn’t wanted to believe what my senses told me.

“Awake, are you?” Father’s voice was thick with alcohol and anger. “Good. You need to be. We have things to settle between us.”

“Father, I am ill. Let’s wait and talk tomorrow when I am better.” I’d pushed myself farther back against my bed pillows, trying to put more space between us.

“Wait? I’ve waited long enough!”

“Father, I need to call Mary. As the doctor said, she must make me a hot toddy so that I can rest.”

“Call Mary all you like—she won’t come. Neither will Carson or Cook. I sent them all to the fair. Told them to take the whole night off. There is no one here except the two of us.”

That’s when I became afraid. Summoning all the strength I could, I slid to the other side of the bed, away from him, and stood. Father was old and drunk. I was young and fleet footed. If I could just slip around him, he would not be able to catch me.

But that night I had not been a fleet-footed girl. I had been dizzy with fever and weak with a cough that would not let me catch my breath. As I’d tried to dart around him, my legs had felt as if they were made of stone and I’d stumbled.

“Not this time. This time we settle it!” Father grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.

“We have nothing to settle! I am going to marry Arthur Simpton and have a good and happy life away from you and your perversions! Do you think I don’t know how you look at me?” I’d shouted at him. “You disgust me!”

“I disgust you? You whore! You are the one who tempts me. I see how you watch me—how you flaunt yourself to me. I know your true nature, and by the end of this night you will know it, too!” he’d roared, sending spittle flying into my face.

He struck me then. Not on my face. Not once that night did he strike my face. One of his hot hands held both my wrists together in a viselike grip, pulling my arms over my head, while his other hand, curled into a fist, battered my body.

I’d fought him with all my might. But the more I fought, the harder he beat me. I had been propelled by terror, like a feral creature cornered by a huntsman, until he grasped the front of my silk dress and ripped it downward, tearing Mother’s pearls with the delicate fabric so that they rained around us as my br**sts were fully exposed.

My body betrayed me then. It could no longer fight. I went cold and limp. When, with an animalistic growl, he’d pinned me on my bed, lifted my skirts, and rammed himself within the most intimate part of me as he bit and groped my br**sts, I’d not moved. I’d only screamed and screamed until my throat had gone raw and my voice was lost.