Captured (9 page)

“Do you? Do you truly understand?” He stood beside her, hitching up his pants even as he captured her elbow in his hand. “I’m trying to do what’s best for you Lillian.”

“Please, Zander. Make the decisions you must, but don’t attempt to tell me you make them for
my
good. You choose your own good, as you always have.”

“Perhaps I have, but I had no one else to look after my future. If I hadn’t preserved myself, no one else would have.” His tone was hard, and the look in his eye truly angry.

“Yes, that was an excellent excuse eight years ago, Zander. Today, sadly, it hardly rings true.” She pulled her elbow from his grasp and raced toward the back door.

“I won’t allow you to sell those pictures to Paris, Lillian. That
is
for your own good, and I won’t be swayed!” He yelled at her retreating back, not even bothering to pursue her.

She stopped at the door, spinning to face him. “I never intended on selling them anyway, you fool. It was merely a ruse to get you to see me, to spend time with me and hopefully ruin my name sufficiently to avoid an unwanted marriage.” She spat the words at him, the tears in her eyes doing nothing to blur the shock she saw written on his face. “I have learned my lessons in cynicism, Alexander. I learned the first when my mother and sister died and it seemed my father wished I had died as well. I learned the second when you promised me your heart and abandoned me to a cold, companionless existence.”

“Damn it, Lillian, I—”

“I learned the third today when I offered my heart, my body, my love and my life to you and you couldn’t force them back into my hands quickly enough.” She paused, looking at him, at the slight hint of shame on his face as he clutched his pants closed. His silence spoke volumes and made her stomach threaten to relieve itself of its contents on

his highly polished floor. “Good bye, Alexander. May you continue to take excellent care of yourself.”

Lillian stumbled down the steps and out into the garden, grabbing her camera and hiding her underclothes under the blanket she scooped from the ground. Her hair still cascaded around her shoulders, but with any luck she’d make it out the garden gate and to the corner where she’d told her coachman to wait without detection. She could arrange her hair in a simple bun on the way home, sneak in through the servants’ quarters, and be appropriately dressed for dinner in less than an hour.

No one would be the wiser. No one would know how close she’d come to realizing her most secret desire, or to ruining her chances to leave her father’s home. She’d marry Halewater and start anew, away from the men who had lied to her and the home that held as much misery as joy for her these past eight years.

Lillian paused at the gate and turned to look at the back door. It was tightly shut, and no brown eyes looked out at her from the windows onto the garden. He was letting her go, giving her up without a fight. Once again.

“Good bye, Zander.” She whispered the familiar nickname to herself one last time, a hollow feeling settling within her chest as she realized she had never spoken truer words. It was time to bid good-bye, to the man, and to the girlish fantasies she’d clung to for far too long.

Three weeks later

“There, that’s lovely. A few more twists on this side and we’ll be finished.” Marjorie gathered hairpins from the vanity and wrestled the last of Lillian’s hair into submission. “You don’t know how much I’ve enjoyed this, Lillian. It’s been ages since I’ve had the chance to play this way. My Phillip insisted on hiring a girl
simply
to do my hair. I already have Katie to help me dress and I tried to tell him that I enjoyed— Lillian? Are you are all right, sweet cousin?”

Lillian met Marjorie’s eyes in the mirror and did her best to banish the stricken expression she saw reflected on her own face. This was supposed to be a night for celebration. She had to pull herself together and quit mooning about as if she were headed for the gallows.

“I’m fine, just a bit of nerves.”

“No need to be nervous, darling. The particulars of the betrothal have already been arranged. All that is left to do is celebrate!”

“Of course, you’re right.” Lillian swallowed hard against the bile that rose in her throat. The particulars of the betrothal had
indeed
been arranged, far before even she had been made aware. She’d been promised to Arnold since her twentieth birthday, apparently, a fact her father had disclosed two weeks past when she made weak noises about postponing the official announcement.

She had hoped for a bit more time to pull herself together, to put aside the terrible sadness that had plagued her since the day she left Alexander’s garden. But it seemed Arnold would wait no longer to take her to wife. The betrothal would be announced tonight during a dinner hosted by her father, and they would wed at the end of the summer at Arnold’s estate in the mountains of upstate New York.

“I’m so happy for you, Lillian. I know I teased you about being a spinster in good fun, but I’m so glad to see you marry. I hated to think of you spending your life alone with no husband, no children.”

“Yes, of course.” Lillian tried to smile again, but obviously failed to convince Marjorie all was well.

“Darling, listen.” Marjorie lowered her voice conspiratorially, despite the fact that they were alone in Lillian’s dressing room and not likely to be overheard. “Just between us—because we’re cousins and you have no mother to do this—well, I’ll tell you, the wedding night is not nearly so horrid as many would have you believe! There’s only the slightest bit of pain, and the closeness is actually very nice. I’ve come to look forward to the nights Phillip visits my room, and I know you will do the same with Arnold.”

Lillian closed her eyes against the visual inspired by Marjorie’s words. Arnold’s fleshy white body working over hers, shoving his cock between her legs with as much enthusiasm as he shoveled food into his mouth.

Stop it Lillian, or you truly will be ill!

“Thank you, Marjorie.” Lillian squeezed one of Marjorie’s hands gently in her own, knowing her sweet cousin had only the kindest intentions. “Thank you so much for coming early. Having you here means so much to me.”

“Oh, cousin.” Marjorie’s eyes grew misty and she bent to press a quick kiss to Lillian’s cheek. “You are such a dear. I will miss you so much if Mr. Halewater does indeed choose to move to New York full time.”

“I fear he may. Arnold has retired from the active business life and his interests manage themselves. But I’m sure he will allow me to come back for visits as often as I choose.” Lillian forced a smile onto her face, and eagerly changed the subject. “Enough about me, I’m dying to know if the gossip I’ve heard is true.”

“Gossip? You hate gossip, Lillian. I can’t imagine what you might have heard that would interest you in the slightest.” Marjorie grinned and let one hand stray to her slightly rounded belly, giving herself away.

“Oh, Marjorie! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you and Phillip.”

She leapt from her chair to give her giggling cousin a hug, and soon they were both laughing so loudly they missed Margaret’s knock.

“Miss Lillian? May I come in?” Her maid’s voice sounded from the crack in the door.

“Of course, Maggie. You must see the miracle Cousin Marjorie worked upon my hair.”

“Oh, Miss Lillian, you look pretty as a picture, you do.” Margaret’s eyes were immediately wet with tears, a common occurrence since the date had been set for Lillian to leave the Thomas home. Margaret would be staying on here, by Arnold’s orders. He had his own staff at his homes and didn’t wish to employ more servants.

“Now, don’t cry, Margaret, or I will start to cry and ruin my face.”

“Ruin your face indeed! You’ve ruined it already by painting yourself up like some—”

“What’s this, Maggie? A present for Lillian?” Marjorie dashed over to take the rectangular package from the maid’s arms before Maggie could get deep into her usual lecture on the evils of rouge.

“It is, but a strange one. It was delivered to the servants’ entrance with no calling card attached. Real nice paper, though, so I thought I’d bring it up to you.”

“Thank you, Maggie,” Lillian said, her throat growing tight as she took the package from Marjorie and softly touched the card affixed to the top. It read simply, “For Lil”, but those two words were enough for her to know exactly who had sent the gift.

“Open it, Lillian! I’m dying to see your first engagement present! I’d hoped I would be the first, but no matter. I told Phillip I should have brought the basket upstairs with me when I arrived. But he was so eager to go see that new billiard table Curtis ordered for the—”

“Go fetch it now, cousin. I’d love to open your gift in private before the rest of the guests arrive,” Lillian said, jumping at the chance to get her Marjorie out of the room. She didn’t want anyone to see her open Zander’s present. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold herself together, and it wouldn’t do to fall to pieces in front of her cousin.

“Maggie, would you get us some tea? And maybe sneak a bit of something else in the pot to soothe our nerves?”

“You’re a naughty girl, Miss Lillian, always have been a handful.” Maggie frowned, but Lillian could tell by the slight twist of her mouth as she headed downstairs that she would oblige her.

She smiled as the women left the room, but could barely keep her hands off the package while she waited for them to tromp down the stairs. As soon as she heard their footsteps fade, she ripped at the paper. The box beneath was an unstained wooden container with a hinged lid. It resembled a large jewelry box, but wasn’t nearly ornate enough to be intended to hold precious heirlooms.

No time for guessing games, Lillian, hurry and open it!

Lillian fumbled with the clasp, opening the box to reveal a small handwritten note atop a stack of white paper.

I know this isn’t proper, on the eve of your betrothal, but don’t send me away. Please forgive me for being a fool and a coward,

A man too daft to see his fantasy was a reality, nearly within his grasp.

Her hands shook as she pulled the papers from the box, realizing now that they were photographic prints, turned face down. As she turned the first over to meet the light, she gasped, nearly dropping the lot of them on the floor.

“Dear God.” She blushed as she took in the scene Zander had arranged. His nude form, with camera beside him, was reflected in a large mirror, the ornate frame of which was barely visible through the photographs pasted around it.

Dozens of photographs, all of them of Lillian herself, circled Zander’s image. The self-portraits she had taken, the nudes from their first night together, the pictures he had taken while she was serving tea—all of them were there. As she shuffled through the eight prints he’d enclosed in the box, the message of his work became abundantly clear.

In the first photo, Zander’s cock hung limply between his well-muscled legs, as he stared at his own reflection, obviously displeased by what he saw. In the following photos, his gaze shifted, directed toward her own image in the prints surrounding the

mirror. Slowly, the Zander in the photographs became aroused, and finally found completion in his own hand, all while staring at her image as if it were the only thing in the world that could possible give him pleasure.

Lillian’s body responded violently to the sight of him, and her cunny came alive for the first time in weeks.

But what does this mean? What would he have me do? The betrothal will be announced to Father’s friends tonight and in the paper tomorrow morning. It’s too late, there’s nothing—

Lillian’s desperate thoughts were interrupted by footsteps on the stairs. Hurriedly, she ran to her bed and shoved the pictures of Zander under her mattress, dashing back to sit at her vanity seconds before Marjorie appeared at the door.

“Here we go, cousin, I hope you— Oh! You opened it without me!” Marjorie stuck out her bottom lip prettily, as Lillian had seen her do so many times with Phillip when she didn’t get her way.

“I couldn’t help myself, darling, but it seems I shouldn’t have bothered. The box was empty.” Lillian hoped Marjorie would accept her falsehood. If she didn’t, Lillian had the horrible feeling she would break into tears and reveal all to her cousin. Her heart raced as her mind frantically sought a way to put a stop to the night’s festivities. It would be so nice to confide in someone, to have a coconspirator!

“That’s strange,” Marjorie said, crossing the room to examine the box for herself. “What sort of person would send an empty box?”

“I don’t know, it’s very disturbing.” With a sigh, Lillian pressed the box into Marjorie’s hands and leapt to her feet. So much for gaining a confidante.

In seconds she was at the window that overlooked the garden, frantically searching for some sign of Alexander, some clue as to what he would have her do. This was so like him, to begin something and assume she would know how to continue it. He should have at least given her a clue, some sort of—

“Wait, Lillian, there is something in the box! See, right there in the corner. It looks to be…a ring.” Marjorie held it up for Lillian’s inspection, a puzzled expression on her face.

Lillian’s pulse pounded unhealthily in her ears as she took the ring from Marjorie’s fingers. A round green stone, surrounded on either side by round diamonds, set in gold. It was the very ring Zander had described to her that night so long ago, the ring his mother and grandmother had worn. The ring he would have her wear when she became his betrothed.

“I have to stop this dinner.” Lillian slipped the ring onto her third finger with determination. Halewater hadn’t bothered to give her a ring as yet. She had supposed he might finally get around to it tonight. Now he wouldn’t have the chance.

“Lillian! You have to be joking! Lillian, where are you going?” Marjorie’s frantic voice followed her down the stairs.

“Don’t worry Marjorie, I’ll contact you soon.” “Lillian, please! You must tell me what’s happening.”

Lillian didn’t answer, only picked up her skirts and dashed to the front door. Thankfully, most of the staff was either in the kitchen or the formal dining room preparing for the guests that would descend within the hour. Curtis, Phillip and her father were in the men’s parlor with the new billiard table, and Dover, the usual doorman, was no doubt in there as well, serving cigars and port. There was no one around to observe as she flung herself out onto the front steps and down to the walk.