The Fancy (16 page)

A muffled scream sounded out from Suga’s

throat, she couldn’t help the anguished squeal as

she had clamped her lips shut, biting them closed

with her teeth; the sound forced its way out as he

thrust more powerful y, forcing himself al the way –

deep within her virgin body.

The room swam around her, she wanted to

faint, she wanted the floor to open and swal ow her –

anything that would take her away from what was

happening to her. Suga was not a crier, she hardly

ever let tears fal from her eyes – life was as it was

and there was no sense in fighting it. But something

about Quinton doing this to her, hurting her so badly,

before those men, broke her heart – washed her in

humiliation – made her feel, once more, that she was

nothing more than a slave, a whore, a fancy – she

fought to hold back her tears.

Breathing hard, Quinton stopped, feeling her

tight around him, feeling angry, ashamed, he pul ed

free of her – the deflowering done; he would not

ejaculate within her before them – God help them al

if they dare try and make him.

In that moment, he could easily have kil ed them

al , and truthful y, maybe even himself for what he had

done. He ripped a portion of her bloomers, wiped

her virgin blood on it, as wel off of himself and

released her; pul ing her skirt back to cover her.

He final y looked up at them; each of them had

lust fil ed eyes from the deed. He closed himself

back within his breeches, lifted the bloody rag,

“Here, it is done! She is now –
my
–
wife!
” Slapping

the cloth to the table, he grabbed her once more,

and practical y dragged her from the building.

Because they could be fol owing him, because

someone, anyone could be watching, the rough

treatment of her continued. At their carriage, he

clamped his hands about her waist, launched her

unceremoniously up to her seat and turned from her,

refusing to look at her; afraid of what he might see

he kept his eyes straight ahead. On his side, he

quickly climbed on board, picked up the reigns and

snapped them to get the carriage moving.

Neither said a word.

Suga sat trying to catch her breath, shifting to

ease the burning pain below, trying to make sense

out of al that taken place; in al the time she’d been

with Quinton, she could not think of one time with him

anywhere, that he didn’t have something to say to

her; now – leaving the town hal , not a word. In truth,

she was frightened; did this mean that everything

had changed? Would he now, start treating her as

her mother’s master, treated her?

Her head spun with so many thoughts while

between her legs, she throbbed and burned with

discomfort from him entering her body so forceful y, it

pulsed so, it felt as if he were stil deep within.

She could stil hear their laughter.

She could stil feel the terror that shot through

her, because for a moment, she thought they would

al have her, have her right there, with Quinton going

first. She could not think on what had taken place, or

what any of it meant, because none of it made any

sense to her way of thinking.

Even though it appeared that he might have

married her, she did not believe for a moment that

they were married and that this man next to her,

Quinton Thaddeus Caine, was her husband.

Al that she knew is that something had

changed.

Quinton was trying to fight his shame, the

disgust he felt about himself. He racked his brain

trying to think of a better way that he could have gone

about things; another way – a way that would not

have made him stand before 5 despicable men and

rip through Suga’s young body. He’d taken her,

taken her in a way that made him wish to weep with

shame – he felt sick; il inside, because his entire

life, he’d wanted to heal – help – care – see to those

who could not see to themselves. While he would

defend himself and those he loved, his family, he had

never in his entire life, deliberately reached out to do

another person harm.

Because of that, the last person he wanted to

hurt was Suga. Not only had he hurt her, he’d defiled

her, he’d treated her as they would have treated her

– and yet, al within him knew, that if he had not, they

would have done something to her, something far

worse – to hurt him, to disturb him – if they for a

moment thought, that he had what they would think

were unnatural feelings for her; thus the gamble, so

far, they thought of the act they’d committed as the

ultimate strike against him and the elite.

Never in a hundred years would they believe

they’d done – exactly – what he’d wanted them to do,

force him to marry her. He had known there was no

other way for the problem to be resolved. There was

no way he could have ever given her back, even for a

night – and it had nothing to do with the vow he’d

given her, the promise he had made.

He could not give her back, because the

thought of not having her near, in his home, safe -

living as they’d become accustomed to living, did

something strange to his stomach, his entire system.

Thoughts in his head of never seeing her again, of

not knowing if she were safe, and smiling, made him

feel strange in a way he had never experienced

before. Since Suga, his system was plagued by an

il ness or a panic he could not live with happening to

him; this il ness started by getting to know her and

each day together, it had grown more powerful,

gripping him more intensely.

Now, it triggered discomfort when she was not

around, when he could not find her, did not know if

she were safe. If his body felt such discomfort from

just not being able to find her; what would it do to him

if he lost her completely? He wouldn’t even entertain

the thought.

Long as she was there, with him – the affliction

left him alone, he could breathe, he could think, he

could work, he could eat, he could function like

normal. Suga was the cure – so he must have her in

his life – and would do al – good or bad, to make

sure – the vows he made were met – that she was

by his side, until the day he died.

Nervously he pul ed into the drive of their home

before the barn, even now – they could both hear

Moose barking from inside the house, he knew that

they were back.

Before he could mutter a sound, she was off of

the carriage, running across their yard for the kitchen

door and into the house.

A moment later the door came open and

Moose came bounding out, barking and looking for

him. Suga was not with him.

“Here boy, happy to see us? Happy to see

you.” Quinton stroked his head, scratching behind

his ear, looking towards the kitchen door, then the

window, in hopes that she would be looking out at

him; shaking his head, he chided himself for such a

stupid thought. She was now, as frightened of him,

as she once was of them al and that he could not let

continue. He turned to taking care of their horse and

carriage, giving her ample time inside to do

whatever he thought she might need to do.

Inside, Suga went straight to her room,

removing her garments and putting on those she

wore around the house. Taking her pitcher to the

kitchen, she poured hot water for herself from the

kettle they kept ful by the fire, she then fil ed it with

cold and put it in place to heat up and took the

bucket that sat alongside two others, back to her

room. There, she stripped down again and knelt in

the big round wash tub, mixing cold with warm; she

cleaned her private place, wincing from touching

where she was tender; feeling fresh once more, she

dressed. Later after al was done, she would sit and

sew herself a new pair of bloomers to replace the

torn ones.

Because of her fastidious nature, the earlier

event did not stop her from doing the things she had

made it her duty to do, refusing to neglect her duties,

she carried on with her contributions, while Quinton

had never forced anything on her, she knew her

place. In the midst of getting her home in order and

preparing his meal, she came to the book she had

been reading, looking at it, tears fil ed her eyes, and

wiping them away she picked it up and walked with it

back into Quinton’s room, his study.

She stood a moment, holding it, stroking her

hand across the cover of it, with a sigh of

acceptance, she walked to the bookcase, placing it

among the others – pushing it into the space it

belonged and turned walking away; deciding, that

reading, was nonsense for someone like her.

An hour later, she was in the wood store,

chopping shavings off of a log for the fire, when she

heard the kitchen door open and Moose rushing in

excited, looking for her. He found her sitting on the

stool she used and immediately started licking her

stool she used and immediately started licking her

face, “Stop that, know I’on like that! Gone out’ah

here.” She pushed him back. He whimpered and lay

at her feet, making sounds to get her attention;

wanting her to pet him. She couldn’t think about him

right then, because she was listening for what

Quinton was doing, now that he’d come into the

house. She had two rabbits turning on the spit, bread

baking in the oven - smel ing up the house, turnips

and greens in the cook pot. She thought,
maybe he

was standing at the fire, trying to get warm –

wondering when he could eat?
The day had started

out cool, but the way the clouds were building, it was

getting colder, it could snow any day.

She couldn’t for the life of her make out what he

might be doing in the kitchen, he was awful y quiet.

She was soon done with the shavings and had

no choice but to come out of the wood store and

back into the kitchen; he was sitting at the table,

morose, staring into the fire.

Stil unsure, Suga murmured softly, “I – I fix

yo’food for you soon - won’t be long now.” She

gulped, nervous to face him.

He turned from staring into the fire to her. His

eyes looked in a way she’d never seen them before,

staring at her as if tortured. He was swal owing, his

Adams apple bobbing as he struggled with the lump

in his throat. Final y his arm unfolded upon the table

towards her, his hand out, palm up, with the gesture

of his fingers, he cal ed her to him, “Suga… come to

me.”

Swal owing repeatedly, her hands wringing

nervously before her, she stepped hesitantly toward

him; stopping midway of the table.

“Closer Suga, come closer – please.”

Now that they were back, the man that he had

been earlier, at the hal , was gone. This man, the one

who gazed at her now, was the Quinton that she

knew, yet – she could not be sure of anything

anymore.

She bit into her bottom lip, sucking it into her

mouth to moisten it and taking a deep breath,

whispered, “I’on want – you hurtin’ me no more

Quinton, I do what you say, you ain’t got to hurt me – I

– I do whatever you want.”

Tears immediately fil ed his eyes at her words;

one moment he was in the chair, next she knew, he

was on his knees crawling to her, grabbing her skirt

with each hand; pul ing up on his knees to wrap his

arms around her, squeezing her hips and palming

her buttocks, his face tight to her stomach – he held

on tight. “I’d sooner die – die – than hurt you once

more as I have this day. I have prayed that God

forgive me, now – I pray you – I beg you – Suga,

forgive me, please – forgive me. I had to do it – or

die a thousand deaths watching one of them – I

could not, I could not – please…”

He pushed away, holding on to her skirts

looking up at her, “… I had to say those things, treat

you that way; the choice was not mine - I could not

give you back - Suga, I could not. I took a chance, I

had to risk al to have you here now – tel me that you