CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
VICTORIA
I can barely read the pages before me for the tears that stream down my face. This is a diary written by someone who’d been through what I’m going through, and that someone was Nicholas’ Mother. My heart breaks, but I’m still confused. If he’s read this, then why didn’t he put a stop to it? Is he that conflicted and controlled by his father that he can’t see what’s right and wrong. I want to go back to him and tell him that it’ll all be okay if he stops this now. The world won’t fall apart — he and William will be safe, but something sits uneasily in my stomach. I don’t know everything that’s going on here. I must read more. Firstly, though, I need to make a preference for the next trial, ‘fire, sex, death’. I read a small passage about it earlier but didn’t finish it when I came to my room. I wanted to start the diary from the beginning, so I got the whole picture. I flip to where I know it begins.
‘Fire, sex, and death is the hardest task of them all. It's designed to break the weakest of the women who haven’t already been destroyed by the punishment task. I was whipped, as you know dear diary, but nothing can prepare you for what you become when these tasks are handed out.’
My bedroom door flies open before I can read any further. I shove the diary under my pillow and glare at the Duke’s guards.
“I thought our rooms were sacred.”
“Maybe the others are, but yours is a whole different state of affairs. Get up, now.”
“Go to hell.” I ignore the twerp in the Duke’s livery. They don’t command me.
“Get up, or I'll drag you by the hair to complete the next task.” He menacingly steps forward.
“The next task?” Shit, I think. I haven’t had a chance to read all about it yet.
“Yes, it’s time. Get up.”
My legs suddenly feel as though they’re ten ton weights. The words, ‘fire, sex, death' are resonating through my head in a loop that sounds more imposing with every repeat. I manage to stand. I’m not sure how.
“I’m up.”
“Follow me, then,” the guard sneers and leads off. I want to run away into the hidden passages in the house and hope I can find a way out, but I know it will be futile. I’ll be dragged out and probably put in the bridle. I have solid plans to never go in there again, so I follow him. Halfway down the corridor, Amelia leaves her room. She looks like a ghost. She’s deathly pale and shaking like a leaf. Over the last few days, she’s had an air of calm about her, but not now.
“Amelia?” I grab her hand to check that she’s alright.
“No talking!” the guard shouts at me.
“Fuck you,” I respond, not caring about punishment.
“Are you alright?”
She opens her mouth to speak, but the guard grabs me by the hair, before she has a chance. He pulls me into the room where the Duke’s waiting and throws me to the floor in front of him.
“The bridle didn’t work. She’s disobeying the orders.”
“I’m checking my friend is alright,” I shout back at him and go to get up. I’m pushed back down.
“I like her at my feet. It’s a good position for someone with a mouth like hers. Actually, no, on her knees sucking my dick would be better.” The Duke laughs at his own comment. Nicholas comes into view, and he’s not smiling. He looks tired and angry.
“The girls are mine. You can't touch them without my permission.” He ignores me and vents his anger on his father instead.
“I shared your mother with my father and brother — why change tradition?” the Duke snarls back. I see Nicholas’ fist form into a ball, ready to lash out, and my stomach turns with overwhelming nausea, at the statement.
“It’s one tradition I can change without the society’s consent, and I’m changing it now. None of these girls are to be touched without my permission. If I find out that they have, then you'll be tried by the society for corrupting the succession process. Something I know you take seriously because of the consequences.” Nicholas is fuming, but it’s the first time I’ve seen him stand up to his father, and the Duke actually backs down. The older Cavendish huffs and steps away to the side.
“Let the next trial begin.” The Duke holds his hand up and thumps it down on a table.
“Ladies, my son has already determined the level of discipline that will be required to correct you, as his wife. Some needing more than others.” He looks at me, and I can’t help it — I sneer while getting to my feet. “As the Duchess of Oakfield, you'll have to set an example. You’ll be called upon to accompany the Duke to social functions, which will contain a variety of people, including royalty. You'll be expected to act with the highest decorum at all times. That’s not all that will be demanded of you, though. The society’s a business — we undertake certain deals on behalf of the members to further our ambitions. You'll be required to take part in this as much as necessary. This is the purpose of these three trials.” The Duke walks over to a sunken area in the hall. I’d noticed it before but never thought much of it. Four guards line up around the corners of the area, and the Duke nods. A cover’s pulled back, and a pit of burning coal is revealed.
“To join the society, one of the tasks is to walk over hot coals. It’s supposed to signify the age old tradition of being willing to do anything for advancement. One of you ladies will be given that task by Earl Lullington.” The Duke looks at his son and motions for him to step forward and take the stage. I notice for the first time how tired Nicholas seems. He has dark circles under his eyes, and the stubble lining his chiseled jaw is longer than usual. A few more days of growth, and he’ll have a somewhat unkempt beard. He still wears a suit, which is immaculately pressed, but somehow it doesn’t hang on his shoulders with the arrogant confidence that it would have done a few weeks ago. I want to go to him, embrace him, tell him it’ll be alright, and that the world isn’t really falling apart. But I know that it is, and I’ve already promised him that I wouldn’t lie. The sound of my name on Nicholas’ deep tones draws me from my reflection.
“Victoria will walk the coals,” he says.
“I’ll do what?” I exclaim loudly in shock.
He glares at me. It’s a look that tells me to keep my mouth shut. ‘Fire, Sex, Death’ pops into my head. Ok, maybe I’ll be silent as this is apparently the fire, and I like the sound of the other two a lot less than walking over hot coals.
“How very disappointing,” the Duke moans. “I was hoping that you would choose her for sex. I was looking forward to it.” He laughs this time, and I look to Amelia. Seeing that she’s close to tears, I reach out and take her hand. She grips mine back tightly, saying nothing as the Duke starts up with his annoying sermons again.
“In all ways, the wife of a Duke must be completely faithful to her husband, unless, for reasons known only to the Duke, he commands her to personally commit carnal acts with another person. I did this with my wife. I wanted to work with a particular client, so I gave him a night with my wife to seal the deal.” He chuckles, and my blood freezes. “She didn’t come back too bruised.” I look at Nicholas as he stumbles back, grabbing a nearby chair to support himself. I’m sure his father enjoys teasing him. I look up to the hidden alcoves and wonder if William is listening to this as well. It must be hard on them both to know that their mother was brutally treated and chose death over being with them in life. That she couldn't try to save them from the fate they faced. I will Nicholas to walk out and tell his father that he'll not do this, but I know it won’t happen because this is the only way he can see to put an end to everything.
“For the purpose of this task, I get to have a little fun.” The Duke stands proudly, and I have a horrible sinking feeling I know what’s coming. “The chosen lady will be given to me by my son to complete fellatio. If you, in anyway, attempt to bite my penis, then I’ll have your teeth pulled out of your mouth, one by one, without anesthetic. A good wife needs to obey her husband no matter what. Your body’s his property, and he can command how you use it.”
I can’t help but be over the moon at not having to complete that task. I like my teeth in my mouth, and I would definitely lose them because I wouldn’t be able to prevent myself from trying gnaw off the Duke’s gross dick. It would be the safest way of ensuring I didn’t get any nasty diseases.
“Nicholas, who do you choose for this task?” the Duke asks, and I send up a silent prayer that he doesn’t choose Amelia. It’s already been proven that Elizabeth’s a whore, so give her that task. I’m sure she’ll enjoy it. She can compare father and son. Yuck! What a disgusting thought.
“Elizabeth. I happen to know that she has talents that you’ll rather appreciate.”
The assembled crowd murmur amongst themselves, but my attention’s distracted when Amelia grips my hand even tighter and whispers,
“Thank you for being my friend. You’ve a strength I’ve never seen before. I know that you'll be the last Duchess of Oakfield to be chosen this way.”
“What?” I ask, but the Duke interrupts us again. This time, I’m pulled away to the coals by the guards. Amelia’s taken up to the front of the stage, and Elizabeth’s pushed to her knees at the Duke’s feet.
“The final task, which Amelia will complete, is the ultimate sin for both husband and wife. The society is brutal — as many of you know from the punishments you’ve received for misdemeanors. If you betray us, then the punishment is death. Public execution. No second chances. As wife to my son, you’ll be expected to uphold this. You'll be expected to kill.”
The bottom falls out of my world when I see a gun is placed in front of Amelia. No. No. Her words suddenly start to make sense. The only task she couldn't complete. I’m being held by the two guards, but I get free from them with unimaginable strength and throw myself at Nicholas’ feet. He looks down in shock, and with an almost silent voice, I whisper,
“Swap Amelia and I — I want to do the killing.”