Darkest Longings (19 page)

‘Stop it!’ she cried, as his hands dragged her legs apart

again. ‘Stop! You can’t make me …’

‘Oh, but I can,’ he said. ‘You are my wife now,

remember?’ And grabbing her wrists in one hand, he pinned

her arms above her head and pushed his legs between hers.

‘No!’ she cried. ‘No! Let me go!’

He pressed his mouth hard against hers, drowning her

screams, then using his free hand, he drew her hips towards

him and entered her.

The struggle was useless, he was far too strong for her,

but nevertheless she managed to wrench her mouth away

and sank her teeth into his arm. He only laughed, and

squeezing her jaw between his fingers, he turned her face

back to his.

‘I warned you, Claudine,’ he snarled, ‘but you wouldn’t

listen, would you?’

‘Get off of me!’ she hissed. ‘Get your hands off me!’

‘All in good time,’ he sneered, thrusting himself in and

out of her.

‘Let go of me now!’ she seethed. ‘Let go or I’ll scream!’

His only response was to tighten his grip on her jaw and

slam into her even harder. She writhed and kicked and

scratched, but all to no avail, she was trapped beneath him,

there was no escape. She lay rigid, eyes closed, lips

compressed and fists clenched. Dimly, she was aware that

his breathing had quickened, that he was moving even

deeper inside her; then she gasped as her whole being

seemed suddenly to turn inside out.

It was as though she was alive with him; she could smell

him, feel him, taste him, she was submerged in him. She

could hear herself sobbing, then she almost screamed as she

felt sensation in her start to build to an excruciating pitch.

He took her thighs in his hands and pushed them up so that

her legs were around his waist, and she clutched at his

shoulders, curled her fingers savagely through his hair,

feeling that at any moment she was going to explode. His

pumping grew harder and harder, then he was touching her

so deep inside, filling her so full of himself that she cried out

his name. Then suddenly he withdrew.

Her senses reeled with the shock of it, her whole body

screamed in protest. She looked up at him, then recoiled as

she saw the sadistic smile that curved his lips.

‘You’re sick!’ she cried, wiping the back of her trembling

hand across her mouth. ‘You’re sick, and disgusting!’

‘I gave you what you wanted,’ he replied, as he rolled off

her and sat on the edge of the bed.

‘How dare you say that…’

‘I gave you what you wanted,’ he repeated, ‘and you know

it’

‘You raped me!’ she seethed.

‘No.’ he said, standing up as he pulled on his under

shorts. ‘I merely showed you what a ridiculous woman you

are.’ He was glaring down at her, a vile expression in his

eyes. ‘I warned you not to marry me, but you had to have

your own way, didn’t you? And you were prepared to go to

any lengths to get it. But have you ever asked yourself why,

Claudine? Have you ever stopped to wonder why you were

so determined to marry me?’

When she didn’t answer, he gave a harsh laugh. ‘No, I

thought not. Then I’ll tell you why. It was because I didn’t

want you, and you just couldn’t face up to that. Your

pathetic vanity couldn’t accept that there was someone in

this world not ready to fall at your feet. That’s why you

married me. Well, perhaps you can see now what blinkering

yourself to get your own way can bring. Marrying me has

changed nothing -I still don’t want you. All I want is an heir,

and as my wife you will make it your business to give me one.

And now, since I believe I have cleared your head of any

false illusions regarding our union, I shall bid you goodnight.’

For

a long time after the door had closed behind him,

Claudine lay on the bed staring sightlessly at the place

where he had stood, too stunned even to think. Eventually

she became aware of how cold she was, and as she glanced

down at the bare skin of her legs, a tiny flicker of life ignited

somewhere very deep inside her.

At first she moved slowly, pulling herself from the bed

into the bathroom. Once there, she turned on the taps and

began to wash herself, with little energy, but a dim hope that

she could cleanse herself of his venom. Once or twice she

glanced at herself in the mirror, but she barely recognized

the ashen face that looked back at her.

Mechanically she lowered the straps of her nightgown and

let it fall to the floor. Her nakedness embarrassed her, and she

turned from the mirror. Slowly she began to pull on her

clothes. Soon, she told herself, the numbness would leave her

mind and she would be able to decide what she should do.

She opened her vanity-case and began packing her

toiletries. She had no idea how she was going to get out of

the hotel, but there was no question that somehow she must.

Then she would take a train to Chinon, and from there a taxi

to Montvisse. Her father would still be there, he wasn’t

leaving for Berlin until the following week. She wouldn’t

allow herself to think how he would view her sudden return;

once he knew the circumstances, surely he would agree that

she had done the right thing?

Closing her vanity-case, she picked up her hat and

walked back into the bedroom. From the chink of light

under the door she guessed that Francois was still in the

sitting-room, but she couldn’t run the risk of opening the

door to find out. She walked over to the window. It was a

struggle to get it open, for it was imperative she make no

sound, but eventually the heavy wooden frame responded

and she pushed it gently upwards until there was enough

room for her to climb through.

First she leaned out to see how she was going to get down,

knowing that if it was necessary she would jump. But her

painfully thudding heart flooded with relief as she saw the

rusty fire-escape only a few feet below the windowledge.

Once she was outside, she eased the window closed, then

carefully picked her way down the steps to the moonlit

courtyard. Now all she had to do was find the railway station

- and again she was in luck, for almost at once she saw a sign

in the trees opposite, Centre Ville. The station was sure to be

somewhere near the centre of the town; not too long a walk,

she hoped, because though she doubted that Francois

would go into the bedroom again that night, if he did, there

was every chance he would come looking for her.

As she lifted her arm into the light and looked at her

watch, she was shivering, and fighting hard against tears. It

was one thirty in the morning, just three and a half hours

after she had left Lorvoire. With an overpowering sense of

sadness, she realized that her wedding party was probably

still going on.

Collecting herself, and trying not to be daunted by the

looming shadows of the trees, she walked out into the dark,

deserted country road.

At about the time Claudine was leaving the hotel in Poitiers,

Beavis and Celine were arriving back at Montvisse. All the

way home they had sat silently staring in opposite directions,

while Celine’s chauffeur drove them through the night.

Both were acutely aware of the dull red stain of Lorvoire

wine on the front of Beavis’s shirt. Celine had spilt it just

before they left the party, and had been careful to make it

look like an accident.

The staff at Montvisse were still up, waiting to attend to

Celine’s guests as they returned from the wedding. Celine

and Beavis were the first to arrive home; they passed

through the hall, bidding the servants goodnight, then

walked up the stairs together, parting company on the

landing outside Celine’s room.

When Celine went inside she found Brigitte dozing in a

chair, but the maid managed to pull herself to her feet as she

heard the door open.

‘Go to bed, Brigitte,’ Celine said, throwing her purse on

the dressing-table.

‘But I must brush your hair, madame, and…’

‘Go to bed, Brigitte,’ Celine repeated.

Had she not been so tired, Brigitte might have been

quicker to understand, but as she made to protest again

Celine shot her a look, and this time, in no doubt about what

was on her mistress’s mind, Brigitte bobbed a swift curtesy

and did as she was told.

Celine waited, glancing about the room, pleased with the

subtle yellow glow from the lamps beside the bed and the

position of the cheval mirror in the corner between two

occasional chairs. Then she heard footsteps outside the

door. Her heart started to pound and her breathing

quickened. She spun round as Beavis walked in, without

knocking. When she saw the angry look on his face she

turned away, lowering her head as if in shame.

He closed the door behind him. ‘On countless occasions,’

he said harshly, ‘I have had to speak to you about your

clumsiness.’

Her lips parted and her chest began to heave as he took a

step towards her, but she didn’t look up.

‘My shirt is ruined,’ he continued. ‘I could have you

dismissed for such carelessness, you do realize that?’

‘Yes, sir,’ she whispered.

‘Is that what you want?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Then you know what must happen?’

‘Yes, sir.’

He walked past her, then picking up one of the chairs and

placing it in front of the mirror, he said, ‘It gives me no

pleasure to punish you, but you leave me no alternative.

Come over here.’

Keeping her eyes lowered, Celine walked across the

room. When she was standing beside him, he sat down on

the chair, resting his hands on his knees. ‘Pull up your

dress,’ he said.

Obediently Celine gathered the skirts of her short

Molyneux evening dress and pulled them to her waist. Over

her white lace suspender-belt she was wearing a pair of pink

satin French knickers.

‘All right,’ he said, watching her reflection in the mirror.

‘Have you anything to say for yourself before I begin?’

‘Only that I am very sorry, sir. And that I will try not to do

it again.’

‘Well, we’ll just have to see that you don’t,’ he said, and

lifting a hand, he pulled her across his lap. Then arranging

her dress so that the hem fell around her shoulders, he I

slipped his fingers under the elastic of her knickers and

pulled them down over her thighs.

By now Celine’s breathing was so rapid that she was

beginning to shake. As she cast her eyes towards the mirror

she could see the reflection of her naked buttocks and the

grim determination on Beavis’ face. Then, as his hand rose,

she closed her eyes, bracing herself for the first blow. When

it came, the pain that shot through her body was almost

unbearable, but she sank her teeth into her lips to stop from

crying out. He lifted his hand again, but this time, as the

sharp, stinging slap hit her naked flesh, she could do

nothing to stop the moan of pure ecstasy.

He spanked her again and again, until she was bound in a

knot of such overpowering arousal she could no longer

breathe. But the exquisite torture continued as his long,

gentle fingers started to soothe her smarting skin, moving in

gentle circles over her buttocks and thighs, caressing and

stroking. Then at last, just as she thought she could bear it

no longer, his hand came down in one final excruciating

slap.

‘Mon Dieu,’ she choked.

He caught her about the waist and pushed her back to her

feet. Her dress fell around her knees and her knickers

slipped to her ankles. ‘Now let that be a lesson to you,’ he

said.

‘Yes, sir,’ she murmured, as she stooped to retrieve her

knickers.

‘Did I give you permission to do that?’ he barked.

‘No, sir.’

‘Then leave them where they are.’

She let her knickers go, and allowed her arms to hang

loosely at her sides as she stood before him.

At last he stood up, and putting his hands on his hips he

said in a dark voice, ‘Unfasten my trousers.’

As she fumbled with his fly, her hands were shaking so

badly that in the end he pushed her away. ‘Take off your

dress,’ he said, tugging at his tie.

‘But, sir …’

‘I said take it off!’

Obediently she peeled the ruched bodice from her

shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor. Now she was

wearing only her white lace brassiere, suspender-belt and

pale silk stockings.

Turn round and face the bed,’ he told her.

- As she did as she was told, he ran two fingers down the

crease in her buttocks, then pushing them between her legs,

he buried them deep inside her. ‘In future,’ he said, rotating

his fingers as he bent her over, ‘you will make it your

business never to come into my presence unless you are

dressed as you are now.’ And withdrawing his fingers, he

lowered his trousers and undershorts.