Page 60 of Wicked Games

Now I just needed time. Time away from him to think. To clear my head further and figure out how my life had become so incredibly messed up. I knew enough about Richard’s moods and predilections to instinctively know he couldn’t know I was on to him yet. I needed to buy myself time to figure out what to do next. Otherwise, I may find myself back at the asylum being subjected to the same tortures that fractured my mind to begin with.

I was an actress. I could do this. I just needed to get through the next several minutes playing the vapid innocent.

Richard was in my room, strapping me into my restraints for the night. As the evenings had grown cooler, he had begun to allow me to wear a nightgown, although on more than one occasion it had been torn off me by morning.

It was the same routine as usual. First he strapped in my ankles. Then my wrists.

“This leather is becoming too soft and malleable, I believe. I will have to look into getting it replaced with something firmer,” observed Richard, as he was buckling the restraints.

“Do we still need the restraints? I’ve been very good and done everything you asked for weeks now.”

Richard stroked my cheek. “We’ve talked about this. The restraints are not because you have behaved badly, they are for your own protection. They are to keep you safe from your own night terrors and flights of fantasy. We cannot have you waking in the middle of the night with one of your silly dreams about having a different kind of life, can we?”

“I haven’t had any of those dreams since you started my… my daily instructions,” I said, trying to keep my newfound shame from my voice. I thought I was going to be sick.

“We will talk about it again sometime soon, I promise.”

With that discussion closed, I decided to venture to ask, “Tonight a different woman showed up to help me undress. Is Parker ill?”

“Parker has left my employ,” he answered smoothly.

My mind screamed.

I cleared my throat. I needed to be careful in how I proceeded. Calling up some fresh tears, I allowed my lower lip to protrude slightly as I softened my face. A hard expression was a sign of intelligence and alertness. He mustn’t suspect. Giving my voice a slight, plaintive whine, I said, “According to the books, a lady’s maid is almost like a companion to her mistress and that it is appropriate for that bond to be deeper than the standard servant but still with a respect for their social status.”

Richard smiled and brushed a curl back from my cheek. “Very good, my love. I am pleased you are taking your reading so seriously.”

“Why would Parker leave without showing me the respect of a goodbye?”

“You were doing your duty as the lady of the house greeting our guest and she would never want to get in the way of that. I believe she had an emergency back in her home village and it was already going to take at least three days’ carriage ride to reach it. She had to be swift in her departure.”

Bullshit.

I didn’t know how far his obsession stretched and if Jane was alive or dead but I did know that after her outburst to me earlier there was no way she left willingly. Perhaps I could use this to my advantage. I needed to get to Jane. She would be able to tell me more about what the hell was going on.

“The parlor maid, Rose, seemed like she would be a good replacement for Parker,” I offered, keeping my eyes lowered so he couldn’t read my intent.

Richard paused. I could feel his eyes studying me.

“My love, you do not think I would allow your beloved Parker to travel the countryside without the benefit and added protection of a companion. I gave my permission for Rose to attend her as long as needed.”

Bullshit!

“You really do think of everything, Richard,” I said through a clenched jaw as I gave him a waning smile.

He gave me a chaste kiss on the forehead and left.

How did this happen?

How did I let this happen?

I didn’t sleep a wink that night, just laid there in bed, staring into the darkness. Nothing to distract me from my own damning thoughts. I just kept turning over in my head the events of the last several weeks. Over and over, I kept asking myself the same question.

How did I let this happen?

The worst part was I couldn’t pinpoint a particular moment when my mind fogged over and I began to accept Richard’s word as law. There wasn’t a particular afternoon or word said. It just happened gradually.

Day by day.

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