Inheritance Feud

Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Could it be, Theon wondered, that she hoped certainly for aid? Was it possible that she expected the sparse, effete neigh bours-old Cazalet, for instance, having hummed and hawed as he did a generation since in the Hanoverian vanguard at Prestonpans, driving over at length to consult the Berry's, and together with them, maybe, and a spyglass, examining the appalling, revealing spectacle of Hermione's purloined mourn ing-gown flying from his, Theon's masthead, tutting at what must without doubt be taking place on the boat at that moment, and sending at last for law-officers? Even so, Anna bel's reputation would be ruined. But ruined or not, and silenced again and again as Theon forced her under him and repeatedly ravished her, she would never yet, in her inward spirit, yield. He had not expected so much strength of mind in her.

Bodily she was conquered. Theon knew well enough that he had again, of intent while plying her, released the wellspring of physical delight which lay always in her, and gushed readily at the last, unbidden. She could not control it; and the damage it caused her gentility amused Theon. It diverted him to force her, knowing the trembling, initially resistant limbs were no longer truly unwilling (in fact, he thought, they never had been; even in Devenham's day he could have lain with Hermione to her pleasure, had he then taken the oppor tunity) but that she felt, due no doubt to her position in the county and as Godfrey's widow, that she must make a pre tence of reluctance. Such prudishness-he called it by other names-was in itself a reason for sustained punishment, Mor ven thought. He heard her transports, at the same time re minding himself how she must look now, after four days at sea; without paint or other aids, with washing-water, food and slop-buckets carried in and out by Samson, at sight of whom, no doubt, she'd pull the coverlet up over her n***d body like a rudely disturbed nun. Theon had kept her n***d, not for his pleasure he reminded himself, each time he lay with her, that there was no personal aspect whatever in his relations with Hermione, though as a source of animal satisfaction she was adequate enough, like any woman-but because so gen teel a creature as Mrs. Devenham-Theon grinned would never, never struggle out of a boat into the water in such a state, and perhaps be seen. And Hermione couldn't swim, aunt Galadriel not having considered such an accomplishment neces sary in the list of educational attainments prescribed for eligible young females. If Hermione tried to escape, she'd sink like a plummet: but help arriving from an outside source by sea was another matter.

He took leisure to think, once again lying in possession of her body. As often when he had otherwise relieved himself physically, a notion came; he smiled at the analogy.

"There may be a cutter approaching," he told Hermione. Samson had in fact lately sighted one, cruising well out be yond Man. Whether it was looking for them or not he could not say. Theon felt Hermione's breasts tauten as he spoke: it was as if her whole body surged hopefully with the news.

"So you think your friends are aboard, eh?" he said, add ing, "It will make small difference to you, my dear; here you stay with me, until-"

He quelled her. While her trembling increased, and small cries at last came from her, he rode her with purpose, remain ing hard within her till victory was assured; he could break her, he knew, in time. He handled her breasts and limbs, savagely at the end again, to show her-it was time she learned, he thought-who was her master. He made it clear to her once more that help would not avail her.

"One single cry for aid, if they could come near," he said, "one ladylike flutter from the porthole, any such thing, and I'll have Samson r**e you till you can't walk. It can happen while they board us." He laughed aloud at her horrified recoil, her loud revolted cry of sheer animal terror. Theon followed up his advantage. "You know, eh, what happened that time to Clairette? Do you doubt it can happen again, and to your self? Then grant me my inheritance of Baron."

Her changed state from

then on-he had made her almost imbecile with fear-in itself reassured Theon as to the use. lessness of any attempt at rescue. It was unlikely in any case that the vessel had been more than a revenue-cutter; shortly, it passed beyond view and they themselves made in again towards the shore. Afterwards, when night had fallen, Mor ven betook himself to Hermione. She fought, sobbing and cry ing like a child, afraid in the darkness it was Samson, come for her. Theon comforted her, aware that he himself was perhaps now regarded as her only saviour from the mulatto; the possible situation amused him. He used such means as he would in other ways have done on a half-trained, almost broken, valuable animal. Provided she would do his will, he assured her repeatedly, he would not let the mulatto touch her.

"Promise, promise." She was stupid with fear, she seemed to hear nothing he said, or if she heard would not believe. Thereafter, at nights when he slept with her, she would waken him often in screaming nightmare, clinging wildly to him once he had convinced her he was himself, Theon Doon. The transformation of his presence into necessity even touched him now he felt that the original plan he had made would proceed; in a few days, no more, he would certainly own Baron as her husband. He contained his impatience, cozen ing and almost nursing Hermione. But he still lay frequently with her. The condition of mind in which he desired her to stay, for the time, till his wishes were fully accomplished, was one which he knew could only be obtained in her by repeated coupling, constant pleasuring; a turgid state, in which neither she nor any woman could think or reason clearly. In such a condition, finally exhausted in body and mind, Hermione gave way.

"I will marry you, as you wish it," she said one day. Her face was swollen with tears.

He kissed her, and made her rise and dress at once, though her only gown was sodden. He then took her ashore, still with Samson by them to ensure Hermione's continued obedience, if she should try to elude his purpose. There, in a place where they were not known, in a riverside manse, he and Hermione were married. Theon paid the minister well, he himself re called afterwards. The less gossip arising later about all this the better: the bride seemed dazed, and could hardly even make the replies that indicated they were man and wife.

Afterwards, he put her in a hired coach and drove her straight to Baron. He had already left word that the great bed in the main chamber on the first floor, where Doons were born and begotten, was to be kept ready, and a fire lit nightly in the hearth, against their return.

"I am married to Theon. We are back again at Baron. He is giving me wine."

The separate, allied facts spelt themselves out in Hermione's tired mind as if she had been a child still, and was being taught her lessons. Hadn't there been, long, long ago, another time when Theon told her she was married to him? A hand fasting; then afterwards memory failed; she was recalled now. by a wavering brightness in front of her eyes, to the present. It was the blaze of applewood logs in the fireplace in the great hall. Someone had put on a great many; but she was glad of the fire, she was cold, cold ... Beyond the blaze, there were the waiting shapes of servants; motionless, grouped self consciously, fidgeting a little as her eyes at last focussed on them. They'd formed a line of honour, doubtless, on hearing the arrival of the carriage, in traditional fashion to welcome the new-wedded master home. The master ... Theon was now the laird of Baron.

"That will please him," she thought. For a reason she could not presently remember, it had become imperative always to please Theon. In every least thing he must be obeyed and pleased, or, or ...

She had forgotten again: her mind, she knew, had made itself forget. She was still tired and afraid.

She watched the fire glow redly through the wine-glass Theon handed her. He had poured out the ruby liquid him self unerringly, without spilling it, and had then replaced the flagon on the table. How precise his fingers were! Theon's fingers ... she could remember now... she felt her limbs sink with shame, as though they were still together on the boat. He'd left the boat beached. Why did her mind dwell only on such things? Why was it that the servants looked strange, almost furtive, and that she recognised few of their faces, and that none would look at her? Even the new gar dener, with whom she'd after all talked at times, looked at the floor tonight, as though he'd never known her.

The familiar housekeeper had gone. Where was her own good maid? "I'm tired," she thought, "I want to go to my room."