Proserpina
This was the first time Lucien had deigned to take me out, and I was excited. Smiling happily, I slid into the back seat of the luxurious car and sighed, leaning back against the expensive upholstery and inhaling the fragrance of Lucien's familiar cologne and cigars. And of course, his whiskey!
Suddenly I remembered that I had not seen Jamie; turning around in my seat, I frowned in puzzlement.
A new bodyguard, a young man with a scarred face and a small ponytail, stood outside the house.
"What's wrong?" asked Lucien brusquely.
Still a little bemused, I turned to him and asked,
"Where's Jamie? I didn't see him."
Lucien's face tightened, and he glared at me coldly.
"Why do you want to know where Jamie is?" he asked in an icy voice, and I shrank back in fear.
Leaning a little closer and lowering his voice, he reached out and grasped my wrist, twisting it painfully, and growled.
"You belong to me, do you understand, little girl? He won't be working here anymore."
Uncomprehending, I stared at him, and then I understood: Lucien thought I was interested in Jamie.
I leaned across to kiss him, to try and make him understand that for me, he was the only man in the world, but he stopped me.
"The driver," he muttered, his face stormy. Settling back in the corner, I felt misery creep over me. After our entire evening had been spent making such torrid love, how could he ever imagine that I would even look at someone else?
The roads were busy with the usual evening traffic, but safe inside the large sedan with the tinted glasses shutting out any prying eyes, I watched the world go by on the chilly autumn evening. People scurried home, lovers smiling up at each other as they walked hand in hand, mothers tugging their children along. Hollowford was still a small city, and I lost myself in trying to imagine what their lives must be like.
Lucien remained silent, stonily so, but I could feel the anger he radiated through his presence.
We stopped at an exclusive little restaurant, tucked away on a discreet little street.
It looked fairly ordinary from the outside, and I stepped out, putting my small hand in Lucien's large one as we walked to the entrance.
I felt shy and very conscious of myself as I handed over my stole once we were inside. I opened my eyes wide, glimpsing myself in a mirror flanking the entrance to the main dining hall. Surely, that sultry-looking girl-woman could not be me! My curves were enhanced, and the bustier made me look positively voluptuous. Some of the guests were entering or leaving, and I noticed with a warm, unpleasant feeling that many heads were turning to look at us.
Catching Lucien's enigmatic grey gaze on me in the mirror, I turned to him impulsively, feeling increasingly ill at ease; placing my hand on his immaculate tailored, dark dinner jacket, I whispered,
'Please Lucien, let's go home...I don't...'
He pulled me to him, a smile on his lips.
But even as he began to speak, a loud voice broke into our conversation.
'Well, well! So this is the little thing you have been hiding from us, eh?'
Petrified, I turned around, instinctively moving closer to Lucien, seeking his protection.
A large man stood there with a pale red-haired woman hanging on his arm. Her green eyes roved over me in malevolent curiosity, and I could see that she was not very young and was rather drunk too. Stepping forward, she threw her arms around Lucien's shoulders and kissed him, sickeningly latching onto his mouth. I tried to move away, but Lucien's arm encircled my waist, holding me prisoner.
The fleshy man moved closer, a fat finger coming up to trace my lips, and I recoiled in horror, turning blindly to the man who was holding me pinned to his tense body and burying my face in his chest.
'Awww, such a cute little thing. Where did you find her, man?' he grinned, displaying a set of large yellow teeth, and I recoiled.
"Bought her at the last auction, eh?", asked the obese, repugnant man, smiling in a lecherous way, and I shuddered, sickened at his words.
Auction? to buy women?
He stretched out a hand, and I realized in horror that he intended to touch me, but before he could do so, Lucien had stepped in, shielding me from the obnoxious man.
'Let it go, Weller,' he said in a cold tone, 'Leave the girl, she belongs to me.'
His voice was like ice, and I saw a flare of deep hate in the fat man's eyes before he covered it up with a guffaw.
Raising his hands in mock surrender, he laughed, an ugly sound, and stepped back, saying,
"Delano, hold it, man." He smiled, a grin on his pasty face.
"Just checking out the goods." I don't want to end up with a broken neck, the way you finished McGarth.'
He slid his eyes to my face as he said it, and with a sick lurch of my stomach, I guessed he had intended for me to hear that.
Jerking the redhead towards him, he half dragged the woman towards the door.
Desperate for reassurance, I turned to look at Lucien. But he was already turning away, gripping my elbow in an iron hold, and hurrying me into the interior of the restaurant.
Dim lighting, soft music, and muffled sounds of people murmuring and clinking glasses. the fragrance of expensive perfumes and the stronger smell of alcohol. My senses were assaulted as I tripped after Lucien, who had been ushered in like he was royalty by the restaurant captain.
When we were seated at a table in a corner of the large room, I let my eyes grow accustomed to the dimness, my breathing slowly returning to normal after that terrible encounter. But Lucien ignored me, and I felt small and unhappy, overdressed, and unwanted.
I don't belong here, I thought miserably; I am an outsider in this world of falsehood.
A glass of amber-colored whiskey had appeared before Lucien, and he tipped his head back, wolfing it down. I watched him in trepidation. he seemed to be regretting having brought me here, and my confidence and my euphoria slipped down a few more notches. But what hurt the most was the look in his eyes, the steely condemnation in his eyes, for he was holding me responsible for the admiring looks and the greedy gazes being directed my way.
My fears were justified. Whenever any of his male acquaintances appeared at the table, they would run their eyes over me, stripping me visually, and I squirmed. The remarks made by some of them were as coarse and vulgar as their looks.
'Is she with you, Delano?' asked one while another queried, "Your latest? Yes?" said one man, his eyes fixed on my breasts after he had sauntered across and stood, gazing down at me, at the valley between my breasts. I tried to slump and hide, but Lucien reached out and gripped my wrist painfully.
While another was just as insensitive and boorish, "Pretty young, eh? She must be good in bed.'
This was accompanied by a licking of his thick lips as I stared at the man in horror.
Although Lucien made clipped replies that sent them away soon, he kept drinking steadily. Even when a young man flirted innocently enough with me, I saw his face darken.
The snide remarks of some of the women only made me want to go back home.
Suddenly, to my surprise, Thomas Harding appeared at our table. I hadn't seen him since the day I met Lucien at his house and became totally his. In fact, I had even forgotten what he looked like!
Now the all-American-boy looks, with blonde hair and strapping muscles, seemed rather ordinary and dull to me. But then, only Lucien lit up my world, dark and cruel as he was!
Harding had a broad grin on his face and seemed like he was halfway to being drunk. After making some inane conversation with Lucien he said, smiling goofily, as he turned to look at me, eyes gleaming with appreciation,
"Boss, can I dance with this beautiful young woman?'
"Have her. She's all yours!" said Lucien, his voice thick with the drink, as he watched me, his eyes narrowing.
Something in the way he said it hurt me deeply. I felt like a chattel to be handed from man to man. But determined not to spoil the evening, I favored Thomas Harding with a lovely smile and stood up. His eyes devoured me, and I knew Lucien had gone still, but Thomas Harding grabbed my hand, and I was whirled away.