Chapter 18: Constant Surveillance
I woke the next morning with renewed determination burning in my chest. Today I would continue my search, would explore other areas of the house I’d never considered. The disappointment of yesterday’s false leads in the west wing only strengthened my resolve—if Nathaniel wasn’t there, he had to be somewhere else.
But my plans crumbled before I’d even finished getting dressed.
“Good morning, darling.” Adrian appeared in the bedroom doorway with a breakfast tray, looking devastatingly handsome in casual clothes that suggested he wasn’t planning to leave anytime soon. “I thought we could spend the day together. I’ve cleared my schedule.”
My heart sank. Of course he had cleared his schedule. Yesterday’s subtle resistance, my slightly too-rigid responses to his touch—he’d noticed everything and was now responding accordingly.
“That’s… wonderful,” I managed, though internally I was screaming with frustration. “What did you have in mind?”
“Whatever you’d like.” He set the tray on our small table and pulled out my chair with a gallant flourish. “We could walk in the gardens, spend time in the library, maybe plan our next social engagement. I want to focus entirely on you today.”
Focus entirely on me. Which meant watching my every move, monitoring my responses, ensuring I had no opportunity to wander off and explore areas I shouldn’t see.
As we ate breakfast together, Adrian kept up a steady stream of charming conversation that would have seemed perfectly normal to any outside observer. He asked about my preferences for redecorating certain rooms, discussed books he thought I might enjoy, even mentioned the possibility of planning a small dinner party.
But underneath his attentive demeanor, I could feel him studying me. Cataloguing every facial expression, every response, every subtle sign of my mental state.
“You seem distracted,” he observed, refilling my tea cup with practiced grace. “Is something troubling you?”
“Not at all.” I forced a smile. “Just enjoying having your full attention for once.”
“You always have my full attention.” His fingers brushed mine as he handed me the cup. “You’re the most important thing in my world, Calla. Everything else is secondary.”
The sincerity in his voice should have been romantic. Instead, it made my skin crawl with the knowledge of what his “attention” really meant.
After breakfast, he suggested a walk in the gardens, keeping his arm linked possessively through mine as we strolled the perfectly manicured paths. Every step took us further from the house, further from any opportunity to continue my search for Nathaniel.
“The roses are particularly beautiful this time of year,” Adrian commented, stopping to examine a climbing variety that covered an ornate trellis.
“Mmm,” I agreed absently, my mind calculating how long this enforced togetherness might last. All day, probably. Maybe longer if he decided I needed extended observation.
“You’re not really looking at the roses.” His voice held a note of gentle reproach. “Where is that active mind of yours wandering to?”
To thoughts of our son, who’s somewhere in that house while you parade me around like a prize.
“Just thinking about how different everything looks in the morning light,” I said instead.
“Different how?”
The question was casual, but I caught the sharpness beneath it. Adrian was fishing, trying to determine if my distraction was dangerous or merely mundane.
“More hopeful, I suppose.” I leaned into his side, playing the part of the devoted wife. “Like there are new possibilities around every corner.”
“There are.” His arm tightened around me. “As long as those possibilities involve healing and moving forward together.”
Together. As if we were truly partners instead of captor and victim.
We spent the morning meandering through different sections of the estate grounds, Adrian pointing out features and improvements with the pride of ownership that extended to everything in his domain. Including me.
When we finally returned to the house for lunch, I was no closer to finding an opportunity to search for Nathaniel. If anything, Adrian’s constant presence had made me more aware of how thoroughly he controlled my environment.
“I thought we might spend the afternoon in the library,” he suggested as we settled in the dining room. “I have some first editions I’d love to share with you.”
“That sounds lovely.” That sounds like another few hours of being unable to investigate anything.
But as we ate, I felt my frustration beginning to soften around the edges. The food was perfectly prepared, the conversation flowing more naturally, and Adrian’s attention was becoming less surveillance and more genuine engagement.
No, I told myself firmly. Don’t let him do this to you again.
But the feeling persisted, growing stronger as the afternoon progressed. By the time Lydia arrived with our traditional tea service, I was having trouble maintaining my earlier anger and determination.
“Earl Grey, just as you like it,” Lydia said, setting down the familiar china service. She looked more nervous than usual, her hands trembling slightly as she arranged the cups and saucers.
“Thank you, Lydia.” Adrian’s voice was warm, but there was something underneath it that made the housekeeper’s nervousness increase.
As I sipped the perfectly prepared tea, the last of my frustration began to dissolve. Why had I been so agitated earlier? Adrian was here, giving me his complete attention, showing me exactly the kind of devoted care I’d been craving.
“Feeling better?” he asked, as if he could sense the change in my mood.
“Much better.” And I meant it. The afternoon suddenly seemed full of pleasant possibilities instead of missed opportunities.
“Good.” His smile was pure satisfaction. “I was thinking we might skip the library and go directly to more… intimate pursuits.”
The suggestion sent heat pooling in my core.
When he reached across the table to take my hand, I didn’t pull away.
“What kind of intimate pursuits?” I asked, my voice coming out breathier than intended.
“The kind where I remind you exactly how good we are together.” His thumb stroked across my knuckles, and electricity shot straight up my arm. “The kind where you stop thinking about anything except how I make you feel.”
Stop thinking. Yes, that sounded perfect. Thinking had been causing me nothing but pain lately.
“I’d like that,” I whispered, and meant every word.
Adrian’s eyes darkened with hunger and triumph. “Then let’s go upstairs, Mrs. Thorne. Let me show you exactly what you’ve been missing.”
As he led me from the dining room, his hand possessive on the small of my back, I felt the last of my resistance crumble. Why had I been fighting this? Why had I been making everything so complicated when the solution was right here beside me?
Whatever I’d been searching for that morning seemed suddenly unimportant compared to the promise in Adrian’s silver eyes.
Whatever I’d been planning to find could wait.
Right now, all that mattered was the heat building between us and the way he was looking at me like I was the only thing in his world worth having.
Even if some distant part of my mind was screaming that this was exactly what he wanted me to feel.
Even if that same voice was trying to remind me about medical records and missing children and promises I’d made to myself.
But that voice was getting quieter with every step toward our bedroom, and by the time Adrian closed the door behind us, it had faded to nothing at all.