Initium (Nocte Trilogy #2.5)(6)

What a beautiful wedding night, I think sadly. I should be here with Phillip. But I force all thoughts of Phillip out of my mind, trying to tell myself that it’s as though he died. That’s how unavailable Phillip is to me now. I need to allow myself to grieve him.

I bathe and let the hot steam carry my stress away, my feet propped up on the tile. My eyes are closed until Richard clears his throat right next to the tub.

“Hello, Olivia,” he says formally, as though he hasn’t just seen me a moment ago. “I’d like to have a conversation with you when you’re finished.”

He means now. I can see that on his face.

I nod curtly, and he doesn’t look at my naked body at all, not even a glance. I stand up and dry off and follow him into the bedroom, dressed in a robe.

“I won’t be requiring your sexual services,” Richard says without preface. I’m not surprised and don’t even try to act like it.

“Ever?” I ask, to clarify, afraid to hope.

“Ever,” he answers. The breath sort of whooshes from my lungs in relief. Sex with Richard would be like having sex with a cold fish.

“What I require from you is an exemplary wife. I need for you to exhibit high regard for the Savage name, and to go through the motions of being a doting wife in public.”

“But not in private?”

He stares at me. “In private, you will obey me. You will respect me. But you will not need to dote.”

Well, thank God.

I think of my baby though, and my hands flutter, because if Richard and I never have sex… he’ll know without a doubt that the baby isn’t his. Not that I want it to be his.

“I…” my voice trails off because I don’t know what to do. I feel the need to tell him, to be honest, but I probably should’ve been honest before the wedding, not after. Fear kept me from it.

“Yes?” Richard’s brow is raised.

“I must tell you something.”

He waits.

I tell him.

“I’m pregnant.”

So is the silence.

Richard stares at me for a long time.

“Well, that’s one less thing to worry about,” he finally answers. “An heir, that is.”

“I don’t want my baby to have your last name,” I tell him, and I’m determined. My baby won’t be a Savage.

He stares at me again. “Who is the father, pray tell?”

“You don’t know him. And he’s gone now.”

I think.

“He’d better be,” Richard finally answers. “You will not disgrace me.”

That’s all he’s worried about?

I nod and he thinks.

“The child won’t leave the estate, just in case it doesn’t resemble either you or I. We’ll have private tutors in, and no one will know. We’ll say it’s unwell, so no one will wonder.”

All he cares about is public perception and the fact that he won’t have to bed me.

I’m relieved and sickened at the same time.

But I nod.

“Very well,” Richard says icily. He turns to leave. “Oh, and Olivia?”

“Yes?”

He turns around and backhands me hard enough to knock me into the wall. The room seems to splinter from the pain of it. It swirls and twirls, and when I touch my cheek, my fingers come back with blood on them, and the metallic taste fills my mouth, running from my teeth.

“Don’t disgrace me again.”





Chapter Five





“What have you done, girl?”

My mother stares at me above the rim of her cup, and her eyes are sad. Her shoulders are hunched, and she suddenly seems so frail and old.

“I haven’t done anything,” I tell her firmly and I reach for a tea-cup. She places her hand on mine, and closes her eyes.

“I saw it on your face and I feel it now. You’re pregnant. I know it isn’t Richard’s. What have you done?”

I sigh, and the sadness wells up in me, and I sink into a chair at the table.

“I told you I loved him,” I murmur, and in my head, all I can see if Phillip. “He was my heart, mama. And now he’s gone.”

She clucks in disapproval and looks away, as though she can’t even bear to meet my eyes.

“This won’t go well for you,” she says, and her voice is dejected and weak. “I know that it won’t, Liv. You must do something.”

She rummages around in an old cabinet, and after a few minutes, she hands me a steaming mug. “Drink this. It will take care of everything.”

I sniff at the liquid and it smells bitter and mossy. It smells like something evil and I’m startled. “What is this?”

“Just drink it,” she croaks, and everything I need to know is in her voice.

“I’m not killing my baby,” I tell her, and I’m appalled that she would even try. “I would never. It’s the only thing that will love me.”

“I love you,” my mother insists. “More than you will ever know. You must get rid of this baby. It will be your downfall. I know it.”

“I’m my own downfall,” I argue, and there’s no arguing this subject. “I’ll never hurt my baby.”