Initium (Nocte Trilogy #2.5)(2)

I wait, and he continues, all the while re-arranging the ties in his closet.

“What do you think of this one?” He holds up a paisley green. I hate it, so I nod.

“It looks perfect.”

“I think so too.” He laces it under his collar and steps to me. “Tie this, please.”

My fingers do his bidding and he examines my handiwork in the mirror.

“A bit crooked, but it will do.”

Of course he would say that. The knot is perfect, but he will never acknowledge something good in someone. That’s not his way, or his mother’s.

He finally glances at me for a scant moment.

“You’re wet. Have you been out?”

I nod, and I feel like a meek mouse, awaiting punishment.

His face clouds over, but he contains it. “Why?”

“I needed a walk,” I offer.

Richard rolls his eyes. “Then walk on these grounds. Lord knows we have plenty of them. There is no need to walk into town, Olivia.”

Of course not. I must be kept secluded here, away from normal people.

I nod once, because that’s all I can bring myself to do.

“We’ll be married soon,” he adds over his shoulder as he disappears once more in the closet. “You need to act like a Savage, Olivia.”

Imminent doom chills my heart and I fight to control it. Our wedding has been arranged, by his mother and mine. I get the respectable and feared Savage name, and he gets a wife who will allow him to be who he is without asking questions or having expectations.

I won’t expect him to be a real husband to me, because I already know the truth.

He’s a monster.

Nothing can change that, and he knows that I know.

It’s probably why he can’t bring himself to look at me.

“You may go,” he adds as an afterthought while he ties his shoes.

Gladly.

I don’t look back.





* * *



Dinner is a refined and uncomfortable affair at Whitley.

The dining room table can seat thirty, yet only three of us are here. Richard, Eleanor and me.

My fork accidentally scrapes my china plate and Eleanor glances up at me in disapproval. I flinch.

She swallows her bite of chicken, then stares at me.

“The wedding date has been set.”

My heart pounds.

I don’t want to ask, I don’t want to show my panic, but when Richard doesn’t inquire, I have to.

“And when is it?”

I hate how small my voice sounds, so weak.

“Thirty days. Everything is being arranged. You won’t need to do anything.”

Anything other than shackle myself to Richard, that is.

“Will Mr. Savage return for the wedding?” I don’t know why I’m curious, other than the fact that Richard Savage I is the only friendly person in the family. His eyes are warm, his smile is genuine. He’s a person I think I truly like, an ally, almost. He’s always kind to me.

Eleanor’s eyes are icy.

“Perhaps. It’s hard to say.”

Mr. Savage has been away on business for a week already. Surely he won’t be gone for another month.

A month.

One month.

Thirty days.

That’s how long I have before I’m condemned to a lifetime with Richard.

It gives me a permanent lump in my throat that I can’t swallow, and as soon as I can, I excuse myself and flee to my mother.

As soon as I arrive, she opens her arms and I collapse into them, and she holds me as I cry.

“There, there.” She pats my back and strokes my hair. “It will be fine, Liv. It will be fine.”

But it won’t be. It won’t ever be. I know that.

She lets me cry and holds me tight.

“I wish I could take this from you,” she says finally, and her voice is so sad. I look at her and she looks frail in the moonlight. “You don’t have to do this for me, girl.”

But she knows that I do.

If I marry Richard, they’ll take care of my mother for the rest of her life. She’ll never want for food, she’ll never go without medical care, she’ll always be okay. Since she’s alone now that my father is gone, I have to do this for her.

I have to.

I pull myself together and I swallow the persistent lump.

“I’ll be okay,” I tell her resolutely, and I mean it. I’ll be okay. I have to be.

“You mourn for the dark haired boy,” she tells me knowingly and her eyes are troubled. “You mourn for what cannot be, my love.”

I look away because I won’t give Phillip up. They can make me marry Richard, but they can’t make me give Phillip up.

“I love him,” I tell her flatly, unable to meet her eyes. “I’ll be discreet. No one will ever know.”

I hear her sharp intake of breath and I don’t look at her.

“Olivia! That’s not who we are. You cannot be with him. You’re going to give your vow to Richard Savage, and that’s how it has to be. You are only as good as your word, child. Your word is your bond.”

I know that. I do. But the idea of not being with Phillip takes my breath away. I don’t want to breathe without him.

I don’t tell my mother that, though. Instead, I visit with her a little bit longer, and when I leave, I feel her eyes buried between my shoulder blades as she watches me go.