Bewitching The Recluse [BOOK 2 of Price Family Saga]

41. Chapter (What In Tarnation...!)

Despite the pamphlet, the Marquess' disposition improved – he commended the chef for the repast, expressed gratitude to the maids for the swift execution of his commands, and even bestowed an additional sum upon the footmen... A transformation that unquestionably did not escape the notice of the household staff. When a few convened in the dining chamber, discourse turned to the matter.

"Well, it is truly all quite peculiar," remarked the well-endowed, mature Sarah. "Ever since that woeful whimpering became a frequent sound, our master is like a different gentleman – it cannot be a mere coincidence."

"Indeed," agreed Corliss. "Initially, I thought the governess might be culpable, but she presents herself too contentedly and joyfully for a lady supposedly undergoing mistreatment."

The kitchen lad, mouth filled with pastry, began nodding. "I happened to pass by that chamber when I heard those cries. The poor creature was wailing 'no, don't do it, have mercy!' and 'please, let me go, I have a family!' – my locks stood on their end from dread."

Sarah shook her head and exclaimed, "For Heaven's sake, our Marquess must have truly lost his senses."

"But at least he's amiable to us again," remarked one of the servants.

"Aye, but for how long?" Corliss asked anxiously. "Before we know it, magistrates will arrive to liberate that unfortunate soul and incarcerate our master. And it will be the demise of the benevolent Marquess!"

"I never thought our master would turn out to be a tormentor," sighed Sarah, shaking her head.

Lafferty eavesdropped on the conversations of the household staff from a respectable distance. To conceal his amusement, he feigned a sip from his teacup. Simultaneously, in a chamber veiled in mystery, a gentleman with a dark demeanour held court. In his lap, a woman attended to his pleasures, her head gently cradled, while his hand guided her with a firm grasp on her hair. Restraints adorned her neck, wrists, and ankles, their chains tracing intricate patterns to rings embedded in the walls...

Later, as Travis immersed himself in his study, the butler disrupted his solitude with the arrival of the post, punctuated by a discreet observation: 

"My Lord, the distressing sounds emanating from that chamber... While I appreciate your choice to position it at a distance from the sensitive ears of the young one, it appears others are not entirely oblivious. Moreover, there are whispers circulating – rumours that suggest you confine and torment a young, innocent lady within the confines of your residence."

The Marquess responded with a wry smile and a playful retort, "Ah, but does it not align with my character, if I may say so? The Mad Marquess, a tormentor of innocent maidens... I do hope to elevate these tales to the status of local legends."

Lafferty dismissed such audacious remarks with a huff and departed to fulfil his duties. 

Meanwhile, as the evening enveloped the estate, Bella, settling into her bed, once again discerned the familiar creak of doors. A smile graced her lips, for she knew that at this hour, she could expect the solitary visitor – one who shared her company with a benevolent smile.

"I sorely missed you," Travis murmured quietly into her ear, clasping her waist possessively. She lay unclothed, anticipating his arrival at this hour, and he, too, reclined beside her in the same state, eschewing the struggle with garments in her presence, as they were unnecessary.

"You persist in saying so, and somehow I still believe you," she replied, turning to meet his gaze, her hand resting on his scarred cheek. He was the most exquisite man in her world, and she couldn't fathom residing anywhere else but in his proximity. In the glow of the flickering candle, he appeared somewhat innocent, though she was well aware of the complexities and darkness of his thoughts, yet in spite of it all...