Chapter Eighty-One
“Yes, it was a man. He made me feel… dirty.”
The steel grey of my Master’s eyes is shadowed, almost cloudy. Taking me in his arms again, he rocks me, like a little girl. “My Love, it shames me that you should have to endure such a thing. And because of me.”
His words stiffen my backbone. “This is not because of you. I'm much better now. It was only the shock of dealing with such a horrible little man and not being ready for it. Ma…”
Claudia…
“… Richard, surely this is coming from someone? Someone with a grudge.”
He releases me, blowing out his cheeks. “I agree. Come back indoors, into the warm.” He turns to where, standing a little way back, heads close, Claudia talks quietly with Ross. “Thank you for staying. Do you have to be anywhere else just now? I would greatly appreciate it if you would keep Elizabeth company while I make some calls.”
“Happy to, Richard.”
As we return to the house, I hear him murmur to Ross. “No offence meant there, but she needs female companionship.”
“None taken. I know it. Just tell me if there’s anything I can do.”
*****
Francis had it right. Towering rage is as good a description as any for what I hear. My Master’s voice carries from his office.
“Get me Adrian Barclay on the phone, right now… I don't care if he’s in conference with God Almighty. He's going to talk to me or I'll come down there myself. And he’ll regret it if I have to do that… You can remind him that I own that office he’s sitting in. If he wants to be in it at the end of the week, along with the rest of his department, he’ll call me back within the next two minutes… You do that…”
He falls quiet…
Claudia and I have run out of small talk. She sits beside me, awkward, sharing the silence.
Ross hovers in the background, shifting from one foot to the other. “Have you ever seen him like this before?” I ask.
“Not even close. Never in anything approaching this kind of rage…” He spreads helpless palms. “He's normally so unflappable.”
“Who's this Adrian Barclay?”
He shrugs. “I guess we're about to find out.”
Then…
The bellow echoes down the hall. “Barclay, damn you! What the hell do you think you’re playing at? If you have a problem with me, you come deal with me. You do not invade my home and attack my wife… I beg to differ. Attack is exactly the right word…”
His voice falls, and he drops into silence, then, “Yes, your excuse for an officer was completely unprofessional. He treated Elizabeth with utter disregard for her feelings. His line of questioning was demeaning and humiliating. His behaviour contemptible. You seriously expect any respectable woman would give intimate details of her personal life to a complete stranger who arrives on the doorstep without even the courtesy of a call first? Tell me, do you train your staff before you turn them loose?”
Ross pads to the drinks cabinet, pours two large brandies, handing them to me and Claudia. Padding back, he pours a third and knocks back half of it in a single gulp.
My Master is still raging. “… Then I want to see those guidelines… Don’t play innocent with me, Barclay! It’s quite clear it was a set-up. One of your lackeys turns up at our home. Another arrives at my office, dragging me out of a meeting, demanding to speak with me, and asking the same, completely inappropriate questions. If I don’t get a retraction and an apology to my wife, I’m going to have your balls on a plate!”
Ross winces. Even Claudia gazes toward the ceiling…
“…You expect me to believe that? You’ll be hearing from my lawyers… Really? In that case, I’ll expect to hear from you. And by tomorrow at the latest.”
Another silence…
… which stretches out.
Should I go talk to him?
But as I’ve just decided that perhaps I should risk it, my Master enters the lounge, slowly, looking thoughtful. Face sheened, his colour high, he scans the three of us. “You heard me?”
“Possibly, there are isolated tribes in the New Guinea rainforest who didn’t hear you,” I say.
He blinks rapidly, examining his feet. “My apologies, my Love. Ross. Claudia. I forgot myself.”
Ross pours again, then presses a brandy-bell into his hand. “None needed, sir. You said nothing that didn’t need saying.” He draws a careful breath. “If I can ask…”
My Master sips. Swallows. Breathes. “That was Adrian Barclay, Head of Revenue in City Hall. He claims he knows nothing about any interviews. He was aware that questions had been raised regarding my tax affairs, but says he authorised no inquiry. And certainly not any interrogation of this sort. His intention had been to meet up with me first over lunch for an informal discussion to clear up any misunderstandings.”
Claudia shifts beside me. “Do you know this man, Richard? Do you believe him?”
He ponders for long seconds, swishing brandy around his mouth before he swallows. “Until now, I would have said that Barclay’s a decent enough type. Not someone I would choose to rub shoulders with socially, but competent enough. What he said about an informal chat rings true. He doesn’t usually fire from the hip.”
“Then it’s someone under him,” she says. “Someone setting out to make trouble. Perhaps looking for a shortcut up the promotion ladder. Or maybe someone who wants to damage your reputation. Do you have any competitors particularly upset with you right now?”
My Master eyes her long. Claudia flushes. “Um… If you don’t mind me asking, sir.”
He lowers his lids…
Apology accepted…
… then bowing a little, he presses a finger to his lips, holding the pose for a few moments. “Fairfax Holdings weren’t happy when I beat them to the deal on the Riverside Project. But that’s just business. And Darron Briggs is an experienced enough operator to know when to suck it up. I don’t see it being them.”
“Anyone else?”
He sips again, his head swaying. “No one springs to mind.”
“So… who's behind this?”
“I don't know… yet...” He turns brisk, throwing back the remainder of his drink. “… But be assured I will. If Barclay is telling the truth, then whoever is responsible has wayyy overstepped their authority. At the very least, I should have been informed before any action was taken.”
The quiet grows awkward. Claudia gathers herself together. “I think I’ve done everything I can here. If you don’t mind, I’ll leave you to it. But do call me if I can help in any way.”
“Let me see you out.” Ross offers a palm toward the hall… “After you…” … taking Claudia with him.
*****
The front door clunks open and shut, then footsteps clip back along the hall…
My Master calls out. “Leave us for a while would you, Ross.”
… and the footsteps continue beyond. The back door wheezes, then snicks closed too.
He slips arms around me, settling at shoulder and waist, holding me close as he presses lips to my forehead. “What would I do without you?” Fingers slide up, lacing into my hair.
I rest my cheek against his shoulder. “Master, you’ve spent most of your life so far without me, and I without you. But I don’t want to go back to that.”
“No.” He exhales, long and slow.
“Master…”
“Hmmm?”
“Can we go upstairs? I want to be with you for a while.”
“I like that idea.”
We make our way to the staircase together, but at the foot of the stairs, I hesitate, a shudder running through me, my heart pounding.
“Elizabeth?”
“That man, he said he wanted to see our bedroom.”
“Did you show him?”
“No, of course not. What business is it of his?”
He squeezes my hand, smiling reassurance. “None at all." He pauses before continuing carefully, “Would you prefer to use another room? If only for a few days?"
I shake my head. “No, it’s our room. Our space. We’ve made it our own space. I feel closest to you there." I fill my lungs before, "And right now, it’s where I want to be."
“Come on then.” A gentle tug at my hand then, guiding me, he leads me up the stairs.
Our room.
I’d not realised until now, that despite only being married to my Master for so short a time, in these precious few weeks, this has become my haven. My personal harbour in the storm.
And the captain of my ship stands close to me. “Elizabeth?” He breathes the word, resting fingertips on my cheek.
“Master,” I smile, reaching to touch, raising my eyes to his for permission. He lowers lids, a subtle nod, and I work the knot of his tie open, the same knot I made for him only a few hours ago. Sliding the tie from under his shirt collar, I undo the top shirt button. As I slip the jacket from his shoulders, he snorts. “Shouldn’t it be me seducing you? I thought you were upset.”