No one who had ever seen Lucas Greyheart in his early age would have supposed he will ever become a naive adult who would be pestered into taking decisions just to please society. He never hid himself in the walls of his Lair but he also never ventured too deep into the depths of London. Only when his father died did society turn its eyes on him, and they started to scrutinize a personality that has always been there, always done the same mistakes and sometimes won the hearts of many intellectuals. But nothing mattered because they already gave him a new identity, one that they found fit for their entertainment.
Lucas became the dark, brooding inheritor of the Lair. He was not young, he was not brilliant and he was never fully understood. No, all those details about his education and youthful life were shifted slowly into this image of a tall, pale skinned, elegant in a mortuary way, ghostly in presence, with eyes that would rarely look up except when speaking to somebody and a sour voice, as if he had cried and yelled before coming out. Lucas was not happy with his new identity but he was also not one who could go against social views.
And now, glancing up at the woman standing across him in the carriage, her eyes were watching the passing sights with such melancholy as if he forcefully took her along. Her hands were resting on her lap while her long black hair was wrapped rather tight in a bun. Two strings of hair were hanging on each side of her face, the tips faintly brushing her neck. She was dressed in a normal dress, not eye catching and not completely ugly although Papillon scowled at the dark pattern. But he was fine with it.
“Are you scared?”
He didn’t even catch her lips move but her blue eyes turned to him and he swallowed nervously.
“We’ll be there soon.” said Mr. Greyheart thinking how he may need one or two drinks from the first night back home.
“Are you nervous? I’ll be in your house, trapped with no way to run and nobody to hear me cry out.”
Every word was said in a way that reminded Lucas of a cat’s mews before she gets angry and she hisses and even attacks. Every word was filled with venom and sarcasm and she was aware it might backfire from the way she seemed to shift in her seat.
“That mouth of yours will be sown by the Londoners.” Commented Papillon, his eyes closed although he was aware of everything.
“He’s right. You are now my wife and should act accordingly.”
She didn’t say anything but Lucas saw her hands grasp onto the fabric of her dress. Her jaw tensed as she turned her attention on the passing landscape.
Stratford was not Enfield. It was closer to London but the Greyheart Lair was on family land which proved to be far wider than Helena expected. They were in the middle of nowhere with the closest neighbor at around a few miles from the Lair.
The Lair. That was indeed a house that scared even the bravest men. As the carriage got nearer, Helena focused on the upcoming scenery. It was dark and brooding, not necessarily imposing but definitely held an atmosphere of mystery about it. Once the carriage stopped in front of it, Papillon walked out first and was followed by Mr. Greyheart. The gentleman reached out to help her down and she did take it, only she also plunged her nails into his flesh when getting off. She checked his reaction but except a crease of his brows nothing visible appeared. And then Helena turned her attention on the Lair and sighed heavily.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Greyheart.” Papillon started with a sly smile.
Helena glanced at him for a short minute before she let her eyes wander over the building. Dark, grey, lifeless at a first glance; one would easily mistake it for a mortuary house where even the most solitude person would feel like silence suffocated him. And yet Mr. Greyheart looked happy to be back home and bothered that he had to share it with a stranger from now on.
“Everything will be alright, sir. Trust me.”
Papillon whispered to the young gentleman seeing how he was so visibly displeased.
“I do trust you, my comrade, or else this young woman wouldn’t stand in front of my house like a bad omen.” He answered in a burdened tone.
Helena looked innocent enough in her wonder. Her wide owlish eyes were judging the sight to be repulsive and bleak which was the complete opposite to the majesty of the Eastorwine Manor.
“How do you like it?” Mr. Greyheart asked trying to be gallant.
Helena hummed before she decided on an answer. Unfortunately, the door opened just as her lips moved apart, and a very pretty girl came out followed by a black man, both dressed very simple yet stylish.
“Welcome back, sir. I followed your words precisely and the room at the end of the hall is prepared.” The girl informed her master and looked at the carriage. “But where is the woman, sir? Where is Mrs. Greyheart?”
“You just passed her. She’s mesmerized by the face of the Lair, not prepared for what it really hides.” Mr. Greyheart said pointing with his head at the brunette.
“And what can there be to surprise me?” She asked skeptically. “I inform you that I hardly gasp in fear or shock.”
“But this is my domain, not yours. As you said, you can cry out and nobody will hear you if I order it so.”
Mr. Greyheart’s cold and proud tone made a shiver go down Helena’s back. Such provocations were an irk that her brothers made sure to avoid as much as possible. Her chin tightened and her eyes sparkled in the light, her pale face and dark hair making her look like a ghost.
“Come on, let’s enter.” Papillon urged, walking ahead in order to fully present the house to the new mistress.
Taking that first step inside meant she entered the abyss where she was about to drown. The house had two stores and many secrets ready to be uncovered, as Papillon described it. The grand entrance hall was simple but brightly lit by a great chandelier; the living room from what she could vaguely see was not as bright because Mr. Greyheart didn’t use it much except when he had guests. Walking up the stairs, she realized there were only three rooms and one was a study. At the end of the hall was her room, which was connected to a personal bathroom that looked unused in years. The room itself was not so bad: it seemed Mr. Greyheart went out of his way to buy furniture that would please a young lady for the old one was dusty and vintage.
“The late Mr. Greyheart used very few rooms and he especially liked to spend his time on the second store. His wife used this room when she first moved here...”
Those were rumours that the girl servant threw around with no real knowledge of what really happened. Papillon rolled his eyes but let her scare Helena, not with the information but with her zeal and imagination.
The Greyheart Lair was not as dark and gloomy on the inside as it was on the outside, Helena had to recognize. The over zealous servant did not appear again and she was left to do as she pleased. When she came downstairs after unpacking her clothes she found Papillon reading on an armchair in front of the window.
“Where is Mr. Greyheart?” She asked expectantly.
“You are his wife now, you can call him by his name.”
“Isn’t Greyheart his name?” She asked rolling her eyes.
“Yours too. Don’t forget.” Papillon commented in a matter-of-fact tone.
Helena approached the butler with preying eyes, her moves mirroring the ones of a wolf that was balancing its options.
“Not every butler is so fond of its master.”
“I have been working in this house for more than one generation.”
Papillon always had an answer prepared, no matter the situation or subject. He was a scrawny man, tall with a long nose and dark complexion. He could lay in the shadows of the house and nobody would be able to see him.
“I assure you Mrs. Greyheart that I am not an interesting man. You should concentrate on your husband and his needs.” Papillon commented feeling her intense gaze upon him.
“What about my needs? Will Mr. Greyheart leave me unsatisfied when he promised me so much?” She asked taking the armchair next to his.
“He didn’t promise you anything.”
“He did. He said nothing will change, that I can continue my lifestyle even if it’s under these circumstances.”
Papillon heard the emphasize and looked at her with cold eyes before he got up and moved towards a cabinet. He knew exactly where everything was so he needn’t much to find what he was looking for. He returned to her and placed a little metallic box on the coffee table that was dividing the two armchairs. She looked upon it with little to no care before she opened it and saw five cigars.
“I don’t smoke,” she answered and leaned back.
Papillon glared at the smug woman and took back the cigar box.
“Don’t try to please me, Papillon. Nothing in this house will ever please me, especially not your master.” She spoke with such a chill that Papillon grasped the handle of the cabinet in order not to throw her a sharp comment.
Lucas Greyheart walked into his room once he saw his servants take care of Helena. His wife. That was such a strange word and even more odd was how much like his father he had acted. It was just like him to find a young woman, not beautiful but not appalling either, that forced by circumstances would be handed to him by her family. Helena was in his mother’s place, in his mother’s room under the same roof that drove the deceased to such lengths that he couldn’t believe possible.
But Lucas wasn’t his father. He strongly disliked how much the society of London created a spit image of late Mr. Greyheart in his form and he swore to himself that he won’t do the same mistakes his father did. And yet he now had a wife 10 years younger than him, handed by her mother in exchange for a medium sum of money which, as he had seen with his own eyes, were either too little or were not needed at all.
A knock interrupted his thoughts and he opened it to see the black man dressed in an elegant costume.
“The carriage is ready, sir.” He said in a low raspy tone.
“Why is that? I just arrived and I don’t plan leaving anywhere so soon.” Lucas answered leaning against the door frame. He was tired just reflecting on his past and present and could hardly think about the future.
“If you want to leave for the city, that is. We can take care of Mrs. Greyheart for you, if you want, that is.”
Lucas blinked sheepishly, thankful that he has been left with such thoughtful and helpful servants. But he had to remind himself that he was not his father and he was not going to ignore his wife for the entirety of their marriage.
“There’s no need. I’ll deal with Mrs. Greyheart. She is my responsibility now.” Or more of a burden, he would have added but he shouldn’t be so pessimistic.
“Very well then. It’s already late, do you want me to open the passage?” The black man asked, his eyes glinting in the light emitted by the candle he held in his hand.
The passage, of course. Lucas straightened himself at the mention of that awful corridor that led from his father’s room into every other, including Helena’s. His chin tensed as he remembered the cries he heard coming from that room when he was a child.
“No. Keep it locked.” Lucas ordered strictly and the man bowed his head in compliance. “You can go about your business, Frantz.”
The black man was of Germanic ascendance and he has been in the house for as long as the over zealous woman. They came like a package, a gift from one of his father’s German friends. Lucas never asked them if their former experience was horrible but he wondered just what they were forced to witness. These impressions came after he found out about the passage; Frantz was the only one to open and close secret doors in the house. Even now, when mentioning it and all the possibilities involving that secret corridor, Frantz’ eyes sparkled with something that Lucas did not like.
The Greyheart Lair was indeed dark at night, frightfully so. The light in the living room has never been so warm and inviting in years and Lucas couldn’t believe his eyes at first when he walked down the stairs. Inside, sitting calmly with her head leaned back and eyes shut was Helena. She looked like she was asleep until he stepped closer and she spoke.
“Your house is lifeless. There’s nothing to enjoy about it and it doesn’t make me feel safe and welcome.” said Mrs. Greyheart without moving a muscle in her body.
“You are too blunt, Helena.”
Hearing him call her name so casually made her open her eyes and throw upon him a look that made him stop mid-step.
“I suppose I should force myself to accept you calling me by my name. How unfortunate, you’re not meeting my expectations.”
“And what are those?” he asked leaning against the little poker table on his left. It was as unused as half of the house since Lucas did not have company often.
Helena got up and walked towards him with small, elegant steps. She was dressed in the same dark patterned dress that she arrived in but now, in the light of the sizzling fire inside the chimney, she looked so unfortunate. He could see the reflection of yellow and red swirl through her big blue eyes in a way that stopped his breath.
Once in front of him, she stopped. Their heights weren’t so far apart so she could look straight into his eyes. In the middle of a silent room, there they stood so close that they could feel each other’s breathe. Lucas might have blinked, or maybe she was that fast, but he found himself with a pocket knife dangerously close to his neck.
“I have the tendency to overreact, as I am sure my brothers have informed you about. Do not think for a second that I enjoy being here, living as your wife. Do not look at me like a nice object, Mr. Greyheart. We are not made by the same matter and I kindly recommend you to look at me and see me for what I really am.”
“Threatening me?” he asked, pride sipping into his every bone thus he couldn’t bend his authority in front of her.
Up close, he could see every twitch and every change in her eyes. They were intriguing, to put it simply. Helena was holding a knife at his throat and he was aware she could kill him right then and there but he had a feeling that she won’t.
“I did not leave the comfort of my house because I wanted to but neither because that was my family’s desire. I had to come here because that was my only option, and I know -I can sense- that it was the same for you. So, Lucas, don’t interfere in my life and I will comply with whatever you will ask of me if I find it reasonable. If not, I will kill you and I won’t even feel regret afterwards.” She whispered leaning in.
“They did tell me that you have violent tendencies.” Lucas muttered, finding it impossible to look away from her eyes.
“That’s true but they never told you the lengths I go in order to make myself comfortable. Never forget this friendly advice, Lucas. I can snap in the most unpleasant ways at the the most unpleasant times.”
Once she stated what she believed were the basics of how to treat her, Helena plunged the pocket knife in the poker table and left the living room for her own. Lucas sighed but didn’t feel so worried. If she wanted to be left alone then that was exactly what he was going to do.
The next week passed without so much as a glance between the wedded couple. Every morning, the servants would place a nice breakfast for everybody in the dining room but the only one to come down was Lucas.
“She doesn’t wake up early enough for breakfast,” said the man when asked. “Don’t trouble yourself with her, Erika. Eat.” He added pointing at her own plate.
It was an oddity but granted to all the feasts he had to take by himself in his room or in the back rooms, Lucas invited his servants to dine at the same table with him after his father’s death, out of respect for them and the times they spent fighting against the same bad environment.
“Is she ill? Should I go and check if-”
“If Mr. Greyheart says you shouldn’t bother, then you shouldn’t.” Papillon stated in an ordering tone. “Anyway, I was informed earlier this morning that there will be a ball for Lady Attenborow tonight and you have been invited.”
Margaret Attenborow was the young daughter of Mr. Attenborow who was business man and whose son, young Philip was somehow involved with the East India Company. He made a fortune out of tradings and it happened several times that he tried to deal with the Greyhearts.
“I don’t want to go.” He answered quickly in the same bratty manner Papillon had heard when he first mentioned the marriage.
“Is it because she tried to embrace you before?”
“Embrace me? She makes unsubtle advances every time we meet. That girl doesn’t have any shame.” Lucas defended his decision, shuddering at how he almost gave in just to show London that he didn’t actually hate women.
“I’m sure it won’t happen. You are a married man now. I advice you to use this opportunity to show yourself unavailable.” Papillon added, eating his toast and eggs without much worry.
Lucas wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back thoughtfully. That sounded like the best most horrible first attempt to show off Helena.
“She won’t accept being exposed to such indecencies. And I’m worried she will kill someone if they anger her.” Lucas said seriously, recalling the very real threat he has been under a week ago.
“I’m sure that won’t happen.” Erika mumbled but Papillon had to agree with his master. Helena was unpredictable and they knew she shouldn’t be underestimated.
“Inform her when she comes down.” The butler finished the conversation.
Helena woke up around lunch and she stretched before she got up. There was no need for a servant to help her have a bath or dress, especially because she didn’t have one back home either. She was perfectly capable of independence with how loose were her clothes. Once she prepared herself to her content, Helena walked downstairs and into the kitchen.
“Oh, madame, please wait in the dining room! I’ll have James prepare something for you and-”
“No need.” She caught sight of the fruit basket and grabbed an apple from it, “This is enough for now.”
“But madame, that’s just an apple. You need a consistent lunch and-”
“No need.” Maybe she shouldn’t have used that authoritarian tone with kind people but the over zealous servant was something Helena couldn’t handle.
Once she entered the living room she was surprised to see Mr. Greyheart already there with his trusted butler at his side. When he noticed her, he rose and walked towards her thus ending up meeting each other in the middle.
“Should I take a seat before you’re going to ask me something?” she asked sensing that was the case with Papillon’s eyes staring at her so intensely.
“There is a ball tonight and I’d like for you to accompany me.”
She looked at him in silence before she glanced at Papillon. The young woman chuckled to herself before she gave her whole attention to her husband.
“Will it be my social introduction as Mrs. Greyheart? Or do you want to embarrass me so quickly?”
“Both,” he answered just as bluntly as she did repeatedly.
“Since whatever I say doesn’t really matter, I’ll agree. But we won’t stay long.” She underlined already feeling the pressure of society.
That was indeed good news for Papillon; it meant she was not completely set on ignoring her duty and the results of this marriage were soon going to appear.
For the rest of the day Helena constantly moved from the living room where she read to the study where she had before her the Greyheart library. It was bigger than the Eastorwines’ but it looked untamed. Lucas had read, she was sure of that and he presented himself as a scholar, but the library itself was dusty and raw.
“At least they have the decency to keep it up to date.” She muttered to herself while browsing through the titles. She loved ancient literature, especially Seneca and Cicero. She also liked french literature and philosophy, subjects she was searching for at the moment.
“Oh madame you are still here! And look how dusty you are! Quickly let’s go and prepare for the ball!”
“There’s time,” she said but one glance at the clock and she gasped. Time really passed fast when reading.
Seeing how this petite figure was so keen on helping, Helena let her. She was bathed, turned and pushed and all in order to get her in a light colored dress that literally stopped her from breathing.
“That’s enough, don’t make it tighter.” Helena gasped, her hands on the mirror’s edges. Erika, as she presented herself, was still pulling on her corset and Helena’s eyes widened in shock. “That’s enough!” she ordered and pushed Erika back. The brunette looked at herself in the mirror and couldn’t believe the image that was staring back at her.
“You look beautiful~” Erika complimented her own work. Helena did look more like a city lady now that her hair was arranged in a stylish bun and her dress, oh my how Erika liked the dress: it was of a burgundy color with lace around the chest part, with several materials covering and intertwining with each other creating this amazing masterpiece. And Helena, it seemed to fit her perfectly.
“I feel like I’m going to suffocate if I drink or eat tonight.” She mumbled shifting uncomfortably.
“Don’t then. It’s better to look appropriate and shine next to Mr. Greyheart.”
Helena turned at the servant with wide eyes but Erika smiled, meaning every word. Maybe it wasn’t only Papillon that was set on protecting Mr. Greyheart’s image but every servant, no matter how insignificant.
Mr. Greyheart didn’t believe himself to be a man that could show off a woman and objectify her even if he had to. Thus, he knew Helena had nothing to worry because he won’t make a big event out of this first night out together. When she came down the stairs he didn’t compliment her on her perfume or attire, he didn’t mention how hard it must be for her to breath seeing how much her breasts were popping out and how her chest was moving faster than normal. He only offered her his hand and didn’t mutter a single word nor a look that could make her feel special. It was all business and he made that clear again in that moment.
Helena couldn’t help but appreciate the effort he put in making himself compliment the color she wore with a jacket of the same burgundy but that was all. She couldn’t believe herself but while they sat silently next to each other, Helena hoped he will turn his head and mutter a word or two that had the power to flatter her. He didn’t.
The ride was not as long as Helena expected, it was merely an hour, but it felt like a year passed between her and her husband. The difference in their upbringing and values was so heavy that even if they wanted to, the gap between them was impossible to close. Once arrived at their destination, Lucas got off first and helped his wife out the carriage knowing there were many eyes already on them. Helena believed that to be pressuring but she wasn’t yet prepared for what followed. Inside the house, all eyes followed them along, trailing behind like spectators gathering to enter in the theater. It was awful and overwhelming and that damned corset was making it even worse.
“Mr. Greyheart! What a pleasure and honour, sir!”
Lucas swallowed nervously at the sight of Mr. Attenborow, whose daughter was right next to him, eyeing Helena from head to toe.
“Lucas, I’m delighted to have you here,” she said placing his hand at disposal. Lucas kissed it like a gentleman and forced himself to smile.
“This is my wife, Helena.”
“Oh my, indeed a beauty aren’t you Mrs. Greyheart?” Mr. Attenborrow said and kissed her hand, making the young woman shudder at how he seemed to eat her up with his eyes.
“Right. Me too.” she said pulling her hand back quicker than Mr. Attenborrow would have liked. “A pleasure to be acquainted.” she forced herself to smile at Miss Attenborrow but she was aware it came off as sarcastic.
“I’m sure you’ll have a great time here. I can’t wait to hear about your new adventures, Lucas.” she said and left, touching Mr. Greyheart’s chest softly while passing him. The man shuddered in distaste which made Helena feel better about herself.
“Are you really going to repeat this brief meeting with everyone in here?” Helena asked eyeing the great number of ladies and gentlemen.
“That or make a scene out of it and have them watch us all at once while I present myself and my wife.” Lucas mumbled back with a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.
“Which one will embarrass you more?” she asked mirroring his own expression, which for a moment surprised him.
“None. If anyone will entertain this gathering tonight, it will be you.” He retorted more seriously than she expected. Helena stared at her husband for a few short seconds before she let go of his arm and made her way through the crowd by herself.
Lucas frowned but let her do as she pleased. He only had energy for himself, he couldn’t babysit her all night.
Maybe an hour or two passed but the two Greyhearts didn’t meet again. Lucas was surrounded by business men and other young entrepreneurs while Helena kept to herself with a glass of brandy in hand. Men eyed her but not like women, many who didn’t dare ask her how she got acquainted to Mr. Greyheart in the first place.
“I want to go home,” she whispered to herself, especially because she was hungry and she wanted to take the dress off. Helena noticed a red haired woman visibly staring at her and prayed she won’t come over. Unfortunately she had never been religious and lucky.
“So you are Mrs. Greyheart. How interesting,” she started, “Helena Eastorwine, am I right? I heard about you and how you lost your lover two years ago. How unfortunate.” she added with no ounce of sympathy. “Must have been awful.”
“I almost died that day too.”
“I heard yes. How convenient though. You were engaged to Lord Sickney’s son, soon to inherit a large sum of money and many buildings in London and he died while you survived. You must have felt so miserable.” she continued, emphasizing all these facts that weren’t of importance anymore.
“Very.” Was Helena’s cold answer. She reminded herself that she had to remain calm in such situations even if anger was boiling inside.
Seeing how Helena didn’t continue with an explanation, the redhead gave up and left. The brunette sighed and leaned against the wall, already tired. Standing so close towards another corridor, she slipped in the safety of loneliness. Standing there, she closed her eyes and listened to what was being discussed around her.
“Have you seen Mrs. Greyheart? What a spoiled little brat. I tried to talk to her and she ignored me.” the redhead told her friends.
“What can you do when her family’s suffering bankruptcy? Her mother sent her off to the first rich gentleman she could find. I’m sure their marriage is beneficial for the whole family not just Miss Eastorwine’s.” An elderly woman commented.
“I heard that their oldest boy works at a mortuary and ever since he was employed corpses begun disappearing.” That was definitely the voice of Miss Attenborrow.
Helena opened her eyes and listened closely.
“I heard the youngest has an affair with a Lord’s wife. How awful.”
“There are three boys in the family, aren’t there? They need a good sum for when Mr. Eastorwine passes so I guess that’s the real reason they married off their only daughter.”
Helena couldn’t deny that her brothers were to inherit some money but with her gone she hoped their business returned to normal. Her parents were still in power and even after her father will pass, she knew the house will remain to Blaise who will never abandon the Eastorwine Mansion.
“I still can’t believe Lucas agreed to marry Miss Eastorwine. And in such secrecy too!” Miss Attenborrow said in what Helena believed was offense.
“I know. I saw him several times with that pretty lady, Mr. Maverick’s younger sister, and I believed them to be engaged.”
“Poor Miss Maverick, such a beautiful and kind lady. And poor Mr. Greyheart!”
A chorus of ‘poor Mr. Greyheart’ followed and Helena rolled her eyes. She walked back into the crowd and decided she wanted to go home. She told him from the beginning that she didn’t want to stay long and she had enough already.
Passing that same group of chatty women, Helena ‘accidentally’ brushed by Miss Attenborrow’s shoulder a bit too hard, making the latter exaggerate.
“Oh my, how very unladylike! That’s what happens when girls from the countryside come into London!” she cried out to everyone that was close enough to hear her.
All this time, Lucas was engaged into multiple discussions, more or less about his new marital disposition.
“I have to admit I hoped you’d marry my sister,” said Mr. Maverick, who unfortunately was there by himself. “But Miss Helena is not bad either, I’ll give you that.”
Timothy Maverick was the opposite of his good friend, Lucas Greyheart. Timothy was the embodiment of kindness and warmth, traits that his beautiful and educated sister, Viola, also possessed. Being friends and former colleagues at Oxford, Timothy and Lucas were familiar with each other’s families.
“Helena is nothing like Viola. I cannot even imagine comparing them because they are just so different.” Lucas replied drinking from his glass of rum.
“Both are smart, educated, daughters of gentlemen and both like you.” Timothy joked but Lucas didn’t expect such an answer, “You do know Viola likes you, she can’t hide her excitement very well.”
“I know,” replied Lucas, “But you also know I cannot make her happy. She deserves someone much better, someone that can give her the attention and love she deserves.”
“And Helena?” Timothy asked catching sight of the new Mrs. Greyheart in the crowd.
“Helena doesn’t love me. She’d very much prefer to murder me in my sleep rather than stay for long in the same room with me.” Lucas replied nonchalantly. At least each were fine spending their time apart. She wanted to be independent, he gave her that to some extent.
“You married in three days, what do you expect? What do you even know about her and she about you? You are not the most likeable man, Lucas.” Timothy said placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder comfortingly. “You should try and get to know her.”
“I don’t want to. She even threatened me to let her do as she pleased. If an ignorant husband is what she wants, then that’s what I’ll give her.”
Timothy watched Lucas for a few seconds with pity in his blue eyes before he wrapped an arm around him and walked to take another glass of rum.
Helena searched for her husband for a few minutes and when she couldn’t see him, she walked out for a fresh breath of air. She was dressed in a fancier manner than she preferred, another little service that she complied with in order not to cause trouble for Mr. Greyheart. It was rather hard to walk in it because the corset was incredibly tight around her torso and she was forced to stand very straight, hurting her spine. Sighing for the hundredth time, Helena tried to catch a carriage that would take her back home but it was no use.
“So'y lady but the Lair’s too fa’,” most of them said. Only one agreed to take her up to the outskirts of London from where she was to walk or take another carriage. She agreed.
Once inside she forced her dress to loosen a bit so that she could breathe and that her spine wouldn’t hurt so bad anymore. It was a success and she relaxed for a bit. There were so many reasons not to like London and the principle one was society. Enfield was a lot better and safer and she had her brothers there, ready to give in to her every whim. Imagine a girl that enjoyed her life fully, with the bad and the good, and then suddenly it’s all taken away. It wasn’t even marriage that captured her soul but death. She drowned and in what felt like a few minutes later, she woke up but it wasn’t the same. Even now, touching her heart, she couldn’t help but feel the slow rhythm. If a doctor would check her pulse he’d have a shock at how slow it was. What she had now was not life, it was punishment and she didn’t know what for. Was it her affair with the young Sickney? Or was it Elizabeth’s death which she involuntarily caused? It was awful only thinking about that terrible accident. She could vividly remember Blaise’s heartbroken expression, which appeared again when she opened her eyes and came back. It was so painful.
“Oi, lady, we’ he’!”
Helena was more or less forced to get out and wait for another carriage at night while her husband was socializing with who knew how many other women. Walking down the alley Helena chuckled to herself at how unhappy this marriage was, and it barely begun! It was amusing how her mother believed in Lucas when all the stories about him were so dark. But she had to walk away or else her family’s fortune was going to vanish. Her return was a bad omen, her grandmother explained that to them and yet they returned her to the land of living. For them to become prosperous again death had to be removed from the domain and it happened. Helena was now living in a place where death was the last problem.
She walked for several minutes and she wasn’t sure if she was going the right or wrong way. She would rarely come to London, she preferred the countryside which is where she met the young Sickney and fell for him and his innocent personality. Remembering him she couldn’t help but stop and sigh. The alley she was on had very few people on it and she already passed two pubs and a brothel. Now she was at a forking of streets and didn’t know which way to take because they all led to strange places that she did not know.
“Heeey, lads look what we found here! You’re a bit far from the headquarters, aren’t you?”
Three men addressed her, all dressed summarily. From their smell and intoxicated gazes she could identify the place they came from and the place they wanted to go to. Sensing that she had nobody to answer to, she decided to continue walking and ignore them.
“Oi! We’e talkin’ to ya! Whe’e ya goin?”
She heard the same man call out but she didn’t look back and quickened her pace. She couldn’t even remember which way she took because the only thing in her mind was escaping those guys. Unfortunately they were still hot on her trail. It came to the point she ran and heard them follow her for two blocks before she stopped to take a breath. Who would have imagined such activities were in store for tonight?
Helena was calming herself down when from the darkness behind her someone grabbed her harshly and dragged her down another alley, behind a jewelry shop. It was dark and nobody was there except them. It wasn’t far from the main road and she hoped someone will look to the side and see her.
“Now, now gal, don’t be so feisty!” one of them said, pulling her towards him and smelling her hair.
From what she could make out, all three were in their late thirties, they smoked some kind of tobacco and they all wore the same ugly brown clothes, only one had his jacket off and another their pants were rolled up to their knees. They were a mess and they were pulling on her like rabid dogs on a piece of meat.
“Look at that, she’s loose already!” another joked and laughed but didn’t tug on her dress.
No, while one was in front of her, holding her hands together, another was behind, pulling on her waist and rubbing against her like a dog in heat.
“Leave me alone!” she screamed and hit the one behind with her head. That surprised even the guy in front and she could squirm out of his grasp The third one came and pushed her against the wall, making her hit her head. She lost balance and sight for a moment which the three used in order to pull her towards them. She kicked one, she flipped her hands around and tried everything in order to get away from them but they were three and she was just one. They were tall and strong men and she was just a woman in a dress that didn’t help her protect herself.
“Keep he' still, Logan!”
One of them told the one that wrapped his hands around her tightly while the other two started to lick her neck and undress her. Seeing how it was hard to undone it, they changed tactics.
“Put he' on the ground!”
And Logan pushed Helena really hard because she landed on all fours, scratching her hands and knees.
“Look she’s more willin' now!” they laughed and continued to do so. Logan hovered over her and kept her on the ground as he tried to kiss her lips while another made quick work of her undergarments.
Helena squirmed and yelled for help which drew some attention from the main street. Someone passed by and they had to silence her.
“Keep her mouth shut, Jack,” they whispered to each other and this Jack came and moved her head on his lap, covering her mouth the whole time.
“We’ll take turns. I’ll go first,” the unnamed inhuman whispered joyously as he literally torn her dress apart. She felt the breeze of the night touch her legs and panicked. She kicked and kicked and hit him several times. She heard him swear when she kicked him in the chin but that only aggravated this man.
“If you want to do it, do it already, John.” She heard Jack whisper.
Even in the dark she saw the feral gleam in his eyes, this John that doesn’t have morals. She squirmed so much that she wounded herself and yet one was keeping her mouth covered while the other held her hands in place. John unbuttoned his trousers and smirked down at her. He pulled her closer and moved her legs apart. Helena felt tears forming in her eyes and fear engulfing her whole being. Nothing prepared her for what came. Her eyes scrunched at the pain that came with thrusting into her. She heard John sigh in pleasure while keeping her legs apart. She tried to get him away even more now but he continued to move in and out, forcing her to welcome him although she was not wet and it hurt like hell. She was literally being broken in two and it was awful. Tears dropped down her cheeks over and over and one of them had the nerve to wipe them off! Her sight was blurry and her pulse was accelerating to the point she felt like she was going to have a heart attack. It really felt worse than dying.
“Oh, yes, that’s good. Ya feeling the pleasure now, ay? You dirty whore,” John said between thrusts. He must have been close to climax because he grasped her thighs and moved quicker. She could feel blood dripping down and something else. He came inside of her.
“Who’s turn’s now? She’s amazing, this gal, I tell ya,” John said and encouraged the others to have a taste. For a moment she thought she could escape because Logan let her hands free and she wanted to scratch or hit or punch or anything, really. But John punched her really hard and Helena lost all the power in her hands. She was like a doll and they could do whatever they wanted to her. Seeing how she could barely keep her eyes open now, Jack let her mouth go and instead he started to fondle her breasts.
“No, let me go,” she whimpered and she got another slap from John. He was standing on her right side when he pulled her by the hair and forced her to look at her rapist.
“Shut up and enjoy it bitch,” he mumbled harshly before he took her face in, “Ya’ have a pretty face, don’t you? What, you believe now that if you dress nice someone rich will buy you? Ha! Ya’r all the same!”
These men believed her to be a prostitute that did not enjoy their feisty manner. It was degrading and she could hardly say a word. She was tired mentally and physically and she would have preferred for them to kill her rather than this.
She felt Logan thrust in her ferociously as if he hadn’t had sex in a long time, or never. She could hear his moans and groans and it was disgusting. She cried silently as these men made use of her body. She wasn’t sure who tried to kiss her but she turned her head and continued to cry.
All she could think of was where was her husband? Why wasn’t he here and how could he let this happen? He promised her respect, he promised her that her lifestyle won’t change and look where she was and what was being done to her. He shouldn’t have let her leave by herself but he was consumed with pleasing others instead of taking care of his wife.
When Logan was done, someone took his place and she couldn’t care less who it was. She was having a break down and she was praying to die or fall unconscious. Anything was fine as long as this proved to be a dream in the end.
“Quick, let me too,” that was probably Jack finally taking his share of meat.
Helena opened her eyes and groaned when Jack entered her. The other two were standing on each of her sides and they were licking or fondling the rest of her body. Moving her head to the side, with one eye already getting swollen she noticed a new pair of shoes standing at the entrance of the alley.
“Help me,” she said, hoping whoever was there could understand her situation. “Please.”
But the feet didn’t walk towards her nor did the person scream or mutter a word; she, because it was a woman, left as silently as she arrived. Helena bit a loud cry and looked up at the sky. Why did she have to go through such terror? It wasn’t her fault that she came back so why was he punishing her in such way? She closed her eyes and heard them whisper to each other but she couldn’t understand them. Her mind was shutting down and she knew she was free falling into darkness. She moved her head to the other side and saw something shiny at one of them. Logan had a knife with him, one that he used to cut her dress and undergarments with. He had it tucked in his pants but she could easily take it if she’d be fast.
With power that she mustered from the depths of her being, Helena jolted and hit Jack head first, making him fall on his bottom and forcing the others to grab her. While she rose, her hand went to Logan’s knife and drew it quickly. With it in hand, she first stroke on Logan and stabbed him in the neck. Next she scratched John while turning towards Logan and used the knife to stab him in the eye, making him scream and fall on the ground, rolling in pain. She turned to John with calmness that was not normal. Her jaw was tense and her whole body seemed to move by itself. She kicked him in the groin and he fell on his back in pain. Something took over her because she first went to Logan and slit his throat slowly, the blood gushing out beautifully. And then she returned to John, the one that started her pain. She sat over him and stabbed his chest once, twice, several times. He squirmed at first but it soon stopped as he lost the breath of life. He was dead but Helena continued to stab him. She had blood all over her body, face, hair, she was a mess. But she didn’t care. As she stabbed the man that hurt her so much and so deeply, she felt control slipping even more than when she found herself with a weapon in hand. Her mind was empty and her heart was stone. When she was done she got up and stumbled around, finally leaning on the cold stone wall. She looked at the knife and threw it randomly before she made her way home. Not once did she glance at the pile of bodies behind.
From London to Stratford was quite the distance but it didn’t matter anymore. It took her a few hours by foot and it started to rain heavily sometime along the way. When she arrived at the Lair, she found Papillon outside, looking around, searching for something. When their eyes met, the crow like man gasped and for the first time since they met, he ran to her and aided her.
“What happened?” he asked in a hurry. “Who did this to you? “
But Helena’s eyes were not glinting mischievously like they did for the past few days. She didn’t answer, she didn’t speak and movement went past her in a blur. All she could think of was how this was going to affect her; Helena was grey before but now it felt like she has been pushed further into the darkness.
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