24. Caged

24. Caged
Catherine

In the past two months, life has taken a strange turn; stranger still, it seems I am to meet the Duke afterall. Edward's father is to arrive tomorrow with a party of business delegates. They will stay for three days before journeying to the coast. There was time this prospect would have filled me with relief, and maybe even left me envious of their next destination. It would have given me an end date to my incarceration. Yet, now I have no home to return to. No family to welcome me back. Even the lure of the ocean has dimmed in my estimation. The peace I once yearned for from being cast adrift has lost its appeal.

It feels as though I am already alone in this world. Even my beloved Chastity has left me. The day I found out of my parents passing I was found unconscious in the kitchen garden. When I was rushed to my room for treatment the door was left open, and it seems and she simply disappeared. I cannot even bring myself to be mad about it, it feels quite fitting in a way. To be so completely and thoroughly abandoned.

The only thing remaining from my home, is me.

Just myself, and I feel both trapped yet lost in this world. Longing for escape and still fearing the outcome of being by myself out there.

Kaleisha no longer entertains my company either. Not after the decision I made. In her mind I am making a mistake, one she cannot watch me commit. But, in truth I have no other choice. A young and destitute maiden, alone in the world has no real options, and must make prudent choices.

I need a husband, a man to shelter and protect me now my father is gone, and Edward is my friend, he is kind and tries to help me. He is the one whose keeping I must put myself into.

It is why I accepted his proposal a fortnight ago.

Even Mrs. Macrae seems disappointed by my choice, as if it ever were one. Though I believe she is merely worried over my melancholy as opposed to objecting to my choice. She is very dear to me, and often comes to plait my hair in the evenings before bed. It is a part of the day I look forward to with ernest, the comfort of her fingers in my hair; it reminds me of all the arguments I used to have as my mother tried to do the same. How I hated it, yet how I would give anything to feel her weaving at my hair once more.

Thankfully, my lessons have relaxed, but they are still in place. Edward is more severe on my failings now, but I am to be his dutchess, I cannot afford to slip up and err in my behaviour. I have acknowledged his censure is a must and is in my own best interest, despite the tears I may shed when he speaks so harshly to me.

And now, tomorrow I must play the lady of the house, though I suppose in the technicalities of it all, it is not merely a part to play but who I am now; or who I am to become.

It does not feel like me.

My grief has tempered my wit, and I have become more demure than I ever thought possible. It is ironic really, that my mother would be so very proud in my new situation, especially my current attitudes towards it all.

Still, I find I often look out of the windows longingly. Though I am not sure what I long for anymore. Had I been home, I would have likely perished along with my family. Edward reminds me it is a good thing I have been away all this time. He brings me gifts, tokens of his love to make me smile, and they do for a time. His affection boosts my moods, and even if that hollow darkness rises from inside me again, Edward still manages to stifle it and bring a smile to my face once more.

I am aware I am blessed to have him in my life, many girls in my position could not count on such fortunes. Though, I must admit, if only to myself, that the sight of his golden band on my finger feels more like a shackle than a promise. I look down at it on my right hand, and my face distorts with distaste.

I think of him earlier this morning, as he verbally reprimanded me for continuing to pull and play at the blasted thing. It was not ladylike conduct to fiddle in such a manner. I cannot help myself though, I do not wish to wear it, for it means I am trapped here at his pleasure for my lifetime.

The thought makes my leg burn and my skin itch. As all thoughts of what a marriage to Edward will mean do. How am I to manage it?

Light chirping breaks my attention from my hand. It is coming from the two green love birds that I now keep in my possession. A gift, from Edward upon our engagement, to symbolize our pairing, and help heal my heart as he knows how much I still long for Chastity. It was a sweet gift, and the creatures do bring me a sense of peace. Especially as I watch how bonded they are. Their connection is almost tangible as they live their lives in such a pretty gilded cage.

Like they are somehow tethered together through eternity.

I would never insult Edward by admitting this, or by actually doing so, but on occasion I do wish to open the door and set them free. Watch them fly away, wishing I could follow. But, they too are trapped by his generosity, kept safe by their confinement.

Just as I am.

Though, at least they have each other I suppose.

"I do love the way you watch those birds, Cathy." Comes Edward's voice from the doorway of the small sitting room I have taken to occupying during the day.

"They are very enjoyable to watch, Edward." I answer honestly, offering him a smile over my shoulder as he approaches.

"It pleases me greatly to see you so happy," he states, now completely encroaching on my personal space.

His hands are now on my waist, as he leans over from behind me to peer closer at the birds himself, pushing me further forward at the hip while he does so. It is the stance of two lovers in solitude and complete comfort around one another. I do not pull away physically, but mentally I'm am miles away.

Wishing I was anywhere else, adds to my feelings of being an imposter in this house; and I hate myself all the more for it. I pray I could just accept and return his affection, it would lessen the guilt that weighs upon me.

I can feel Edward's breath against my neck, his fingertips piercing uncomfortably into my body, and it takes me everything I have to not shudder or pull away from his touch. To stand there pliant as I accept his affectionate embrace.

"I brought you another gift, Cathy. In honour of meeting my father." He whispers into my ear; I can smell the alcohol upon his breath.

My lips are well practiced at finding themselves in a smile in any case.

"Edward, you are truly too good to me," I state honestly.

And, it is the truth, he has been preposterous in his generosity towards me, and even when we are wed I know not how to repay his kindness.

"You have had a difficult time," he admits, relieving me by removing his face from my neck. "And, I just want you to know how much you mean to me. Now, close your eyes."

I do as I am asked, feeling contented as his hands leave my waist. Even if his presence does not wholly retreat, at least I can stand upright now. I hear his heavy breaths as he rustles through fabrics, I wonder how much brandy he has actually drank to seem so clumsy. Despite his strange grunts, I wait patiently for what feels like an eternity. Till I can wait no longer and an awkward laugh escapes my lips at being made to stand in such a silly manner for so long.

"Edward, please," I beg of him, "I feel foolish. May I open my eyes yet?"

"One moment," he responds, and I can hear the smirk in his voice, "I'm just enjoying a rare moment of you being so amenable. It's refreshing, and gives me great hope for our future together."

His hands rest for a moment on my bare shoulders, as he teases me. Then I feel it, something cold lands upon my bosom making me jump. A trail of coolness, moving up and behind my neck where Edward's hands now seem to be working a clasp. The necklace is cool against my skin, and I can feel the pendant resting at the top of my bust; rising and falling with each breath I take.

"It's perfect," Comes his soft voice as I open my eyes.

I turn to look at him, he is smiling. So evidently pleased with himself. I look down to my bust, and see a large reddish stone sat there, hung on an open worked golden chain.

"It's a garnet," Edward informs me, his cold fingertips brushing against me as he lifts the stone.

I cannot help the flinch, that comes from me. We are not yet wed, and such contact is unseemly. The stone bounces when it lands, pulled from his grasp as his face hardens.

"It's beautiful, Edward." I respond, hoping to temper the offense my reaction has caused. "Truly, it matches the glint of your hair in the sun. But, it is so large, how will I ever show you my gratitude?"

"Oh Cathy," he states, now lifting my chin with his fingers, a dark look flitting across his face. "In time there will be plenty of gifts you give me to show your appreciation."

I cannot respond, before his lips are ferociously upon my own, while his left hand is on the lower part of my back, locking me in place, squashed against his body. His right hand is upon my throat, ensuring I cannot turn away, and that I am fixed in this spot to await his mercy. And how I wish to turn away, to tear myself from the grip of his affection, from the disgusting taste of brandy and cigars upon his tongue, as it delves wettly into my own mouth. Even the occasional clash of our teeth does not seem to deter him.

My fists are clenched, as I resist the urge to push against him, and focus on simply breathing, allowing him this token, of my acceptance of him. I know he wishes for more, but I cannot muster myself to respond to him with the passion I'm sure he is in hope of.

Yet I refuse to shed any tears over my callous heart, that it will not allow me to return his love. No, I will suffer in silence as my selfishness deserves. I will swallow my revulsion at these contacts between us, and do my utmost to temper my need to recoil.

In my mind I am screaming, it is only a kiss. But as his hand slips marginally lower, now resting on my upper breast I stiffen entirely. This is too much. Edward's wet tongue is still plundering at my mouth, leaving a cold, damp trail around my lips and I find myself asking the question yet again my mind, 'if it is only a kiss, a kiss between two who are to be married, then why do I always feel so violated?'


Author's Note: This was so much fun to write. Normally I have to work to make a kiss sound enjoyable in new and innovative ways.... Getting to write a bad kiss? So much fun. Tell me, what were some of your worst kisses?