Shackled In Sin | BxB

8. Sweet, Innocent Evelyn

TW: Mild Sexual Content

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SHE WAS FINALLY GONE. For the first time in days, I was able to sleep with a clear mind. I could not hear the creak of his bed or the sound of her beautiful moans taunting me as I slept. But even in her absence, after he'd taken his time in punishing me, Lord Mercer had gone back to ignoring me, as though I truly was nothing more than a servant. My chambers were as barren as they had been before and his were finally quiet.

Although I did not want to admit it to myself, for it spurred on a strong sense of self-loathing, I had longed to take her place at his side during the night. A part of me assumed that I would, that he had been toying with me and punished me as a tease of what was to come when his bed was finally his own again.

For days, I waited but he never came. I worked quietly by his side, continuing to change his ink pots and dust the halls. At night, Mr Maltby had me make my way through every wing of the estate with a box of matches, lighting every candle as I passed through.

The work was mundane and somehow felt as though it should be beneath me. For five long years I had been treated like a treasure, priceless and worth far more than anything else. Here I was sinking back into the place I had come from, turning from lover to servant and one day, when he grew tired of me, street urchin once again.

On one particular evening, while I was going about my work, Lord Mercer had a gathering for dinner. They were almost all older men accompanied by their much younger wives, each of whom had certainly taken a fancy to Lord Mercer.

I stood by his side, waiting with a bottle of uncorked wine. When they asked, I filled their cups. Then, when he shooed me off with a graceful flick of his wrist, I made my way back to the kitchens to help Mr Hargrove, the estate's head chef.

When they first arrived I felt a sense of dread rise up my throat, assuming Lord Mercer was hosting another of his clandestine parties. I'd hated the last and would surely hate the next but it seemed those particular gatherings were not held too often. Lest anyone of proper, untainted standing find out, I figured.

Being dressed up like a doll and paraded around was not a favourite pastime of mine. Besides, now that he had clearly had his fill, what was to stop him from allowing the others a taste? My skin crawled at the thought. Though at least they would have been easier to manipulate, not that Lord Mercer would ever award me even a fraction of control, whether he was the one fucking me or not.

"Who are those people?" I asked Mr Hargrove, who was scrubbing his wooden cutting board clean.

The cook shrugged. "Just some other businessmen the master has some dealings with. It's customary for them to meet in person from time to time. You'll see. They'll have their fancy dinner and then the wives will be taken to the drawing room to talk while the men head into his study to talk business."

I scrubbed the used pots in the sink, humming to myself. "Sounds quite bland."

His deep laugh rumbled through the air as he shook his head, a glint in his eye. "Yes, lad," he said with a hint of humour, "quite bland indeed."

The gentle creak of the kitchen door snapped the silence of our quiet cleaning in two, and Evelyn scurried in with a stack of dishes in her arms as she headed straight for the sink.

She placed them in the cold water and turned to me, taking a cautious step back as she quietly spoke, her gaze flickering briefly to Mr Hargrove before settling on me, "Um... Theo, sir. Lord Mercer needs you to run a few errands for him."