Page 24 of A Father's Insistence

Chapter Twelve

Joanna

The world tilts on its axis when the sunlight streams through the curtains, and I realize my husband is not in bed with me. The space where he fell asleep last night is still warm, which suggests he left the bed recently. I listen for the shower, but it’s silent. I’m disappointed, and my heart instantly deflates. Was I not good enough for him? Is that why he’s not here? Does it show down there I’m a victim of abuse. I want to cry, and the tears well up in my eyes but don’t fall when I suddenly notice the time on the beside clock. Eleven in the morning! I don’t think I’ve ever slept this late. No wonder Theo isn’t here in bed with me. He’s an early riser. My body must have been more exhausted than I thought after our lovemaking. Pulling back the bed covers, my hand slides to my flat stomach. I can’t help but wonder if Theo and I created a baby last night. It seems odd to me that by being pregnant I’ll be safe from a beating, but equally, I’d love a mini version of Theo and me. A baby to worship and give me hope.

“I’m expecting a child in there as well.” The deep timbered voice comes from the corner of the room. It’s the voice of my nightmares. Please say I’m dreaming. However, as the owner of the terrifying intonation steps from the shadows, I know it’s real. Viscount Hamilton is here. “It’s taken you long enough to entice my son into that delightful pussy of yours.” The monster comes closer to the bed, and I’m scrambling to cover myself with the bedsheets. I’m back in my pajamas, which thankfully offer me some protection. He’s stronger, though, and with a hard pull on the cotton fabric of the sheets, they are ripped from my frantic grasp. “I don’t believe this is the way I taught you to greet me!”

Next, I’m pulled from the bed by my arm and thrown onto the floor at his feet. I bow my head and stay quiet even though my entire body is shaking, and my teeth chatter with fear.

“My son is too lax with you. He’s always been a softy. Sometimes I think Victoria has more balls than Theo does. Let’s just hope what he does have are fertile. This has taken far too long. I’m getting frustrated. Do you know what it’s like to hide from the police all the time because Nicholas Cavendish thinks he’s found morality? Victoria is wasted on him. It’s infuriating!” I jump when he stomps his foot on the floor in protest at his perceived injuries. I know exactly what it’s like to be running from someone although my someone isn’t the law—it’s the man standing in front of me. It’s exhausting, debilitating, and so very frightening.

I feel him tangle his hand around my hair before it’s pulled hard, so my face juts up to meet his.

“You get a baby in your stomach within the week, or I’ll come back and put one in there myself. Do you understand?”

My bottom lip quivers, and I manage to stutter out a, “y-y-yes”.

“Good girl.”

He bends forward and presses a kiss to my lips. He smells of cigars and brandy—nothing like the fresh and inviting scent of Theo. I want my husband back. Where is he? I say a silent prayer in my head for him to burst into the room and witness his father’s abuse of me. My eyes flick to the door, willing it to open and my savior to fill the void.

The Viscount laughs.

“He was called away to a meeting. I’m sure he’ll be back later with another vote of confidence in us to take over the society. There are more men like me out there than you’d believe. We aren’t all insipid wimps like my son and the Cavendish brothers. We know the real way to treat a woman.”

My hair is pulled harder until I’m up on my feet and pressed against his body. I’m so glad I chose to put my PJs back on. Theo wanted me to sleep naked, but I’d told him I wasn’t ready for that, yet. I still need the security of my clothing. He helped me re-dress. Maybe if I keep thinking of him, I’ll survive what is about to happen to me, and the false hope I had that I was safe here won’t be decimated into a crumbling ruin? The Viscount pushes me up against a chest of drawers in the corner of the room. He kicks my legs apart and strokes my pussy through the cotton fabric that’s keeping it hidden. ‘Theo,’ I repeat in my head. ‘Remember him doing the same thing. The way he made you feel, the pleasure which cascaded through your body when you came with him inside you.’ It’s not possible, though. Theo was gentle but dominant when he touched me, having realized I’m not broken. The Viscount, however, is harsh with his ministrations, prodding and poking in a way that’s completely devoid of romance and entirely designed to inflict pain. He pushes his finger hard into me with only the linen of my pajamas forming protection from his calloused hand and jagged nails. I can’t keep in the whimper falling from my lips, and I hate myself for giving it to him.

“Always the little whore for me, aren’t you, Joanna?”

He thrusts his fingers in a couple more times before withdrawing them.

“You know, when this is all over, I think I’ll keep you for myself. My perfect toy who’ll take anything I can give her. My cock really enjoys your cries. It makes it so hard.”

He grinds his hips into me, and bile rises into my throat at the thought of what he can do with his repulsive member.

“Now is not the time for frivolity. I’m here for one reason alone.”

The Viscount finally allows me to breathe by putting some distance between us. I gasp air into my lungs and adjust my pajamas to make my aching private parts more comfortable. That will have to do until I can burn my clothes and shower in scalding water to make myself feel cleaner. I’ll never be able to feel completely clean again, though.

Turning around, I watch the Viscount open up a briefcase I hadn’t seen before. I don’t even want to begin to guess what he has in it, but I know it won’t be good. Nothing with this man is ever right. How can I have gone from feeling confident in myself again and strong enough to make love with my husband to having it all destroyed in a matter of minutes? The realization dawns on me there will never be any escape. This is my life until the day I die. Theo may be adamant he’ll protect me, but the problem is he’s protecting me from the wrong enemy. The burden weighs heavily on my shoulders, and I sink to the floor.

Viscount Hamilton looks at me and shakes his head with a look of disgust on his face.

“Weak… just like all women.”

He pulls out an envelope from his briefcase and stomps menacingly back over to me. I cower away, wanting to crawl into my own skin and hide.

“I’ve already told you I don’t have time to play today. You can stop with the whimpering act. I need my dick inside you to make that fun, and I’m only here for this.”

He throws the envelope down in front of me.

“Well open it!” he shouts, and it sends a shudder all the way through my body.

My hand tentatively reaches for the envelope, and I open it as quickly as I can while fighting to control the terrible shake coursing throughout my body. I pull something out and notice it’s a photo. I instantly recognize the person captured on camera. It’s a younger Nicholas Cavendish, and in his hand is a painting. It’s vaguely familiar: the vibrant yellow flowers punctured by the glowing red blooms of two poppies. It was in Oakfield Hall. I remember it from the day I was sold. Victoria was staring at the picture for ages, and I wondered why. I never had a chance to ask her, but I’ve since learned from others she has an appreciation for art.

“I don’t understand,” I mumble and then shrink back scared I may be punished for talking.

“You don’t need to understand. All you have to do is give that to Theo.”

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