From What I've Tasted of Desire Pt. 06

Chapter 17: Shuffling the Cards (of your game)

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"Hester says the two of you are getting along rather nicely."

Anna jumps with a squeak, papers she'd been holding fluttering down around her. Spinning back, she eyes Robert fearfully. Surely he wouldn't attack her here in the manor, in a hallway anyone could walk through at any moment.

As if the universe had heard her thoughts, a servant comes round the corner rushing between them, swift enough to stir the air before hurrying down the stairs. Anna sets her attention back on Robert, noticing the seriousness - and sanity - in his gaze, allowing her to breathe a bit easier.

Still, she'd rather he not be here at all.

Ignoring him and his pleading eyes, she kneels to retrieve the children's schoolwork, focusing on setting them to rights so she doesn't have to engage with him. Part of her hopes he'll walk away and leave her be.

But another part of her, a weak, yet still more demanding part, wants him to try - to persuade and beg for her forgiveness. She stills at the sound of his boots, seeing them out of the corner of her eye as they calmly make their way towards her. Defeated, she sits back on her legs with eyes closed as he draws down beside her, helping to collect her papers.

"I'm not here to hurt you, pet."

"Don't call me that," she snaps, glaring at him with a fierceness fueled by pain.

And he wears such a pitiful expression, she wants nothing more than to touch his cheek. But that would be much too lenient for such a man who finds it necessary to attack women when he does not get his way.

"Anna," he sighs with a regretful - mournful tone, "I only wish to apologize. My actions-"

"Were appalling."

She can see the grief that surrounds him, his remorse thick and heavy in his quiet, languid movements. As if he hasn't the energy for anything else. So it is, the punishment for men with a conscience.

He has that at least.

"Yes, they were. I might have many reasons, but no excuses. There is no excuse." He swallows hard, leaning towards her, and though he doesn't reach for her, his knuckles brush against the back of her hand, a tender caress if there ever was one. Her eyes slide closed against it, but she doesn't pull away.

"If you see fit to hate me forever, I'd understand. But I must beg you for forgiveness." He goes silent, possibly trying to collect his thoughts.

"Anna," he presses in a harsh whisper, "I am many awful things, and I hate every one of them, but I know I want you in my life. You're-"

"You want me," Anna repeats with disgust. "You're married! To a rather lovely woman at that!"

Robert rolls his eyes, lips quirking up like she'd told a ridiculous joke. "As you say, Hester is married, yet that didn't stop you from asking her to teach you how to tip the velvet, did it?"

She frowns, not understanding until she catches his devilish look that tells her he knows all about how close she and Hester have become. She flushes with shame, feeling the heat of it pool in her cheeks.

Robert chuckles, his smile wide and kind, trying to put her at ease. "It's alright, Anna. As I'm sure you've noticed by now, my and Hester's union is... unique." He shakes his head, a fondness warming his features. "She's a remarkable woman."

It gives her pause, and she can see in his patient gaze, an asking for something she doesn't understand. Or perhaps an offering? Whatever it is, she doesn't have the strength to involve herself in his games anymore. She reaches out to snatch the papers he holds, freezing when his fingers wrap gently around her wrist.

This is a different kind of Robert than she's ever known. Considerate and sweetly affectionate. And she can see how easily it'd be to fall for him, if only he acted this way from the start.

"Please, Anna," he says with a painful yearning. "Like you said, I know I've given you no reason to trust me, much less forgive, but if you could find it in your heart to try - to give me another chance... I would be good to you."

She's at a loss at how to respond. Even if she could, or would, forgive him, how would this work? She and Robert - Hester and Robert - She and Hester. Not to mention, the employer with whom she lives has seen fit to force their leave. She'll most likely never see them again.

It was a painful mess just waiting to tear out her heart.

She offers up one last look, face clear and giving him no answers. She'd like to say it's simply to make him worry, but to be honest, she's no idea how to feel about any of this.

Papers in hand, she stands, feeling proud of herself for leaving him there crouched on the floor, watching her walk away.

Even if she does want nothing more than to turn back and have him take her in his arms.

—————

The study is deathly quiet, her chair becoming uncomfortable the longer she sits in it. Mr. Marriott has been diligently studying John's schoolwork for nigh on twenty minutes now. And while John is certainly a bright boy, he is only ten, and there's not that much to be gleaned from a ten year old boy's schoolwork.

Finally, Marriott clears his throat, peering up at her with a professional countenance. She'd thought with his confession things might change, worried that she might have to make the uncomfortable decision to reject his advances. But nothing has changed, not in his gentlemanly treatment of her or even how he looks at her. And she can't tell if this a good or bad sign.

"I do see how well you've done with them, Miss Smith. John especially. And I greatly appreciate your hard work. You truly are a wonderful teacher."

"Thank you, sir."

As nice as it is to hear his approval on her work with the children, the unhappy expression on his face has her hands gripping together in her lap, fingers threaded through each other with sweat collecting at her palms.

"But there's an unfortunate matter we need to discuss."

Her jaw clenches hard, teeth grinding.

"It's come to my attention that you have been displaying... improper behavior."

"Sir?"

"Mrs. Lewis informed me of what happened in the parlor the other evening." Marriott sighs, as if with regret. "She was quite disturbed."

Anna shakes her head. "It was only a game."

"Kissing Hester was a game?"

The walls of books steadily begin to close in around her, her breath coming out harder. The parlor had been empty, she was sure it had.

Though obviously not sure enough. Those snoopy, snobbish-

Marriott inhales deeply, leaning back in his chair, eyes watching her in an almost predatory way. And for the first time since she's known him, she fears him.

"I can't help but blame myself," he says, his calm demeanor and soft tone chilling her to the core. "I did after all bring them into this house. I feel if I had given you some warning, some... idea of how crude and obscene they are. Perhaps I could've saved you."

"Saved me?"

"Hall and his wife are wicked vermin. I have tried to be a good friend to them, but their boorish ways have led me to this.

The oxygen in the study seems to be thinning as she tries again and again to catch her breath.

"I'm afraid I cannot have someone, who acts as you do, around my children."

"Sir, please," she tries to beg, but she's not sure anything actually comes out. "I've done nothing wrong."

"No," he questions accusingly, with a cruel, mocking tone. The vision of him begins to swim as her eyes water.

"So you did not force the children from their schoolroom to be alone with Hall?"

Her throat tightens as she tries to swallow. "No."

"So John is lying, then?"

She shakes her head vigorously. "No."

He remains silent, watching uninterested as silent tears stream down her face. "You know, he's been quite worried about you. Tells me of bruises on your person."

The chair creaks beneath his weight as he leans forward. "I told you to come to me, Anna." It's said softly, with care, but his fixed stare is sharp and cold, and the strange combination makes her cringe. "I told you I would handle it if you would come to me."

"I truly apologize, sir. I-"

"It's too late for that, I'm afraid."

So this is it, she thinks. She really has ruined herself, and for what?

Shifting high in his seat, he somehow looks down on her, even though they sit directly across from each other. "You are to leave Heathside Manor by the end of the day."

Panic tears through her. "Sir... I need time to find a new post... somewhere to go."

"That's not my concern anymore. You are not my concern anymore."

Her tears turn to outright sobs, and she knows she must look a mess. "Please. Please don't do this."

"You chose this," he sneers, the words reminding her of a time Robert told her the same thing. Do all men insist on blaming women for their own manipulative ways? Or was it just weak men who could not stand to be disobeyed? "You chose to be lured in and defiled by this sinful couple."

"I did not," she fires back, tears subsiding as anger begins to show its head. Because as full of carnal lust and sweet pleasures as her moments with Robert and Hester have been, she refuses to accept them as sinful.

"And I am not a child! I can choose to be with whomever I wish."

"Not in front of my children, and not in my house!"

Anna stands, looking down at his red face, no longer calm for appearances sake.

"Nothing was ever done in front of the children, this is not about them."

Marriott's lips curl up at the corners, eyes roving over her lasciviously. Ah, there is the snake, she thinks. The one she could not see, but was warned of time and again. Has he been so good at hiding, or has she just been willfully blind?

"But it was in my house. What did you do for them, Anna?"

A shudder runs through her body. She wants to run out, pack her things as quickly as possible and flee. But John and Mary are everything to her, and she can't abandon them without at least telling them she's leaving.

With a calculating ease, Marriott rises from his chair, his gaze pinning her where she stands as he makes his way to her.

"Before I married, I attended quite a few... parties with Hall." He comes so close she has no choice but to step back, forgetting the chair behind her and dropping down into it with a gasp.

Her heart begins hammering, and she searches for an escape, but stuck between Marriott's body and the chair, she sees none.

"Parties of such depravity and sinfulness, Miss Smith, even merely speaking of things done there would cause delicate ladies to faint."

She's still searching, still thinking, when she begins to see the hard outline of him directly in front of her face. Unabashed horror begins crawling up her spine.

"But you are not a lady, are you Anna? Not anymore."

"Please, sir," she whispers, barely audible.

He reaches out, hot fingers skimming down her cheek. "Yes. I like when you say that, Anna. Say it again."

Her eyes close, trying to reconcile the kind man she thought she knew with the one standing before her. Months ago, such a caress from this man would make her sigh, but now she's disgusted, trying to twist her face away from his touch.

"You have to ask yourself Anna, what are you willing to do, to stay here?"

—————

Hester's wistful look has Anna's head dropping, not wanting to acknowledge the somberness of their parting.

"I wish you would come with us," Hester says quietly, hands squeezing Anna's tight, like she might just be able to drag Anna home with her.

Swallowing down her emotions, Anna offers up a sad smile. "My place is here. Besides, we should only be here for another month before we're back in the London townhouse, and I will see you then."

Hands cupping Anna's face, Anna sees that Hester's eyes are bright with the promise of tears. "I truly hope so."

Turning swiftly to her carriage and a reserved Robert waiting nearby, she groans with abhorrence. "I hate carriages."

Robert only smiles, opening the door with a hand held out to assist her inside.

"This is why I don't travel anywhere with you," she chides with eyes narrowed playfully before he closes the door. Anna can hear Hester's muffled rebukes from within, but Robert pretends to be deaf to her, grinning at his wife through the small window.

When he looks back to Anna the amusement on his face leaves him, a shadow of regret hanging there in its stead. He licks his lips, shifting in place. He seems nervous, and in some twisted way, she enjoys it.

She waits, allowing him to say what he needs to.

"I'm truly sorry, Anna."

Hands held behind her back, she wrings her fingers, fighting to control any emotions that might appear on her face.

She nods, solemn and true. "You're forgiven."

But it's not forgotten.

After a quick inhale he returns her nod. "Goodbye."

And then he too is gone, their carriage taking them both away. Looking back on the house, she finds Marriott standing at a window, a dark figure whose expression is furious as he glares down at her.

She returns his gaze without fear, smirking up at him as she makes her way inside.

—————

Anna is still as she looks up into the beautiful face in the portrait. It hangs within the drawing room near the fireplace. If she had to guess, it was most likely recent, perhaps only five to ten years old.

The woman in it is posed seated in a bright red chair, with an impressive backdrop of an open pavilion and a large, colorful garden. The brilliance of such a vibrant setting wars with its human subject.

Though gorgeous, with dainty, winsome features and blonde, up-swept hair with perfectly placed curls, her expression is one of deep sorrow. The clouds of her melancholia are almost visible in her porcelain features, and her black gown makes her appear as if she were in mourning.

"She was quite beautiful, wasn't she," Mrs. Flynn says, coming up beside Anna.

"A very handsome woman. Remind me, what was her name?"

"Eliza." It's said softly, almost as if not to disturb the delicate woman depicted on canvas in oils, housed in a spectacular French styled, molded gilt frame.

Like a golden cage.

"She died in Bedlam?"

Mrs. Flynn's lengthy pause catches Anna's attention, but the housekeeper quickly tries to cover it. Unsuccessfully.

"Yes, I believe so, Miss."

Anna sighs, sympathy for the poor woman making her start to feel a bit melancholy as well. "Was she kind?"

Again, there's hesitation on the housekeeper's part. "She was... sad. And a bit self-absorbed." Mrs. Flynn smiles ruefully. "But no more than any other lady of her station, I think."

Anna's eyes rove over the portrait of this unhappy woman. "This is Hester's sister, yes?"

"Indeed. Never were their two sisters so inherently different."

Definitely not.

—————

Mary's painting leaves much to be desired, the green landscape lopsided and the trees nowhere near to scale, but seeing as how Anna is no professional, she praises the girl's art.

"Do you think father will like it, Anna?"

An uneasiness bubbles within her at the mention of Marriott.

"Yes, poppet, I think he'll be very pleased with your work." She tries to sound cheerful, but these last weeks, now knowing Marriott as she does, makes it difficult. Even so, she's had other things to occupy her time, one of which being John and Mary, the bright lights in her life she nearly lost.

John tromps up to them, face and breeches covered in dirt. Anna clicks her tongue in disappointment, scowling as she tries to wipe away the brown smears on his cheek. Their nursemaid is going to be none too happy.

"Why do insist on getting so filthy when you know it's only going to end up in a bath that you'll hate."

"It was worth it, Anna," he replies with a wide, toothy smile.

She raises her brow with a dubious look. "Really?"

It's then that John springs his hand from behind his back, wildflowers held in a bunch, some of them still with roots. Her strict expression melts away, unable to stop the pull at her lips.

Taking the flowers, she nods in thanks. "You're a true gentleman, John."

He shrugs off the compliment like young boys do, and sits behind his sister. With a sigh Anna sits beside him, making sure he sees it when she smells the blossoms, heart warming at the sight of his cheeks going pink.

"You seem happier Anna," he points out.

She frowns, head tilted, trying to catch his eyes. "Did I seem unhappy before?"

"A bit," John answers with reluctance.

"Well," she says, smile firmly in place as she strokes his hair, "I'm sorry to have worried you."

"It wasn't just you, though. I didn't like having so many strangers in the house. I'm glad they've all gone."

She tugs him against her, a hard kiss placed on the crown of his blonde head. He accepts it, but only with an obnoxiously loud groan that leaves her feeling grateful to still be here with them.

"Are you excited to be returning to London," she asks as they watch Mary make more of a mess than a picture.

He nods against her shoulder. "I miss my friends."

She remembers Robert's words of a boy deserving to be around other boys his age. Perhaps he was right.

"Are you excited, Anna?"

London, where Hester is, and Robert, too. "Yes," she answers with reserve despite the butterflies in her stomach. "Yes, I am very excited."

—————

Chapter 18: Who's Ready to Play

—————

Anna hears the slam of the door after he enters, followed by the hard stomp of his boots. She hopes he's in a good humor, otherwise this might not go so well.

"Sir, you have a visitor."

A silence follows that has her stomach in knots. "A visitor?"

His voice is as smooth and posh as she remembers, each syllable heavily enunciated and precise. The sound of it has her biting her lip before she catches herself.

"A lady. She wouldn't give her name. I've left her in the drawing room."

His light chuckle echos in the entryway and carries down the hall to her. So a good mood, then.

"Are you sure this lady is here for me, and not Mrs. Hall?"

More steps until the maid stops him yet again. "No, sir, she specifically asked for you."

She can see him in her mind's eye, head tilting and brows furrowing in a curious line as he tries to think of who this strange caller might be. Then the doors open, and it's a physical ache not to run up and wrap her arms around him. She tightens her shoulders against the impulse.

"Anna," Robert questions, eyes wide with disbelief, standing suddenly straighter and frozen in place, like he's afraid to come closer or she might disappear. There's a long pause where neither move, and his eyes rove over her, drinking her in like a man who'd been dying of thirst.

It leaves her tongue tied, not expecting this level of emotion from him. Finally, she finds her voice, and she applauds herself internally for how it doesn't waver in the slightest. "I'm sorry to show up without warning."

Robert gives a friendly scoff, waving a hand as he dares to step closer. "I'd heard Marriott returned to London months ago. Hester was certain we'd never see you again."

"I wanted to come," she tries to explain. "It's just... I've been busy."

"Busy." He repeats it in a way that says he doesn't believe it, but that it was ok, she deserving whatever sort of time she needed.

"Helping John get acclimated to Eton," she adds. It's the truth, though John was more than happy to see her go, excited to be on his own for the first time.

A look of happy surprise crosses Robert's face, and knowing what she does now, she's charmed despite herself. She attempts to hide it to no avail.

"He's gone to school, then?"

She sighs a bit melodramatically with a teasing air. "I realized that it was unfair, not allowing him to be around his peers."

A self-satisfied grin slides across his face. "I wonder who gave you that idea?"

She returns his smile, despite its arrogance, both of them laughing together before another awkward silence is cast between them. She wishes it weren't this way, but she's no idea how to fix it.