Page 22 of Savage Games

A blonde-haired maid with shaggy bangs that rather unattractively covered most of her face entered the room carrying one of my evening purses.

“Excuse me, Your Grace. I am returning Miss Elizabeth’s purse. As requested, I have removed the slight stain from the satin in time for this evening.”

Creasing my brow, I stared at the purse in her outstretched hand. I had wanted to use the gold satin Jimmy Choo clutch purse this evening, which is why I had left it out on the marble countertop in the center of my dressing room. But I couldn’t remember staining it or asking for it to be repaired. Just as I turned my head to get a better look at the maid in question, I noticed her other hand held the cell phone I had discarded moments earlier.

“I’ll take that,” I said, snatching the purse.

Feeling lightheaded, I turned my back on Richard, not wanting him to read my expression. Had the maid seen me ditch the phone? Maybe I was overreacting, and it was her phone, not the footman’s. I knew I couldn’t reach for it without Richard questioning or, worse, the maid complaining that I had grabbed her phone.

Fuck me! Nervously I opened the purse and stuffed my lipstick, money clip with the few thousand pounds Richard insisted I carry with me, a small bottle of lotion, and my compact into it.

My entire body shook. Waiting for the ax to fall.

“I believe Miss Elizabeth dropped her mobile in the hallway.”

Closing my eyes, I waited for the interrogation to begin… and wondered what the punishment would be.

Shifting a hesitant glance over my shoulder, I realized Richard was clearly not paying attention to the maid as he finished adjusting his cuffs. He answered distractedly without even looking up. “You are mistaken. Miss Elizabeth does not carry a cell phone. It must be one of the servants. Give it to Mr. Smythe. He will see it returned.”

Looking down, I could see the whites of my knuckles as I gripped the back of my vanity chair, waiting for the maid to accuse me of tossing the phone away.

After an eternity of silence, I heard the rustle of the maid’s skirt as she curtsied and evenly replied, “Yes, Your Grace.”

Not till the door closed softly behind her did I finally take a breath.

I started when Richard’s arm reached over my shoulder and picked up the purse. Without saying a word, he headed into my dressing room. Was he checking to see what I had placed in it? Why?

Richard emerged with my purse and a cobalt blue with gold lettering Graff Diamonds’ jewelry box in his hands.

“I wanted to make sure it would match your gown and purse, but I think I will have to insist you wear the lovebirds brooch this evening, my love.”

Closing my eyes in relief, I nodded. Clearly, my nerves were frayed, and they were now running wild with my imagination. “As you wish, Richard.”

Originally, I had loved the brooch because it reminded me of my birds, Coco and Dior, who were at this moment being spoiled rotten by the London staff who had basically claimed them as their own.

But now… I thought differently about the little pink and white diamond lovebirds nestled close to each other on a jewel-encrusted branch.

To the world, these brooches were a quaint and rather old-fashioned proclivity of Richard’s. I knew them for what they truly were… his mark on me.

A constant reminder that I was no more than a bird caught in a gilded cage forged by him.

As we waited for the driver to open the doors of Richard’s Rolls Royce Phantom, Harris called out to him.

I hated that man. There was just something sinister and untrustworthy about his appearance. There was also no mistaking that whenever Richard needed something unsavory done, Harris was the man he called.

Richard waited till I was settled in my seat before turning toward Harris.

It was clear the two men were having a heated discussion. Judging by the way they both kept looking in my direction, it was about me. With the car door closed, I could only hear muffled snatches of their conversation.

Elizabeth.

Dangerous.

Knows too much.

Needs to be dealt with.

Game over.

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