“You are not to go in my private study or commune about the mansion unless attended with someone,” Crump said coldly, barked out as an order to his just new bride.

The ceremony only ended mere hours prior and the carriage ride was halfway towards the manor itself, when his entire demeanor changed before her eyes. He had said the command to her without even looking at her, still staring outwards to the carriage’s window inserting when they’d arrive already.

His new bride’s company was seemingly already becoming boring to him.

Emily, never the one the start conflict, simply took in the request as nothing more then a request.

“Of course, my dear,”

She said in her light tone, never to loud or quite. She somehow always managed to never be too much, it made Alistair feel both annoyed and conflicted.

His annoyance towards this naive women who was meeker and quieter than a mouse, knowing that he’d have to live with her, sharing his manor like any married couple would. Alistair Crump was simply not a people person — unless they could offer him something, and she couldn’t offer anything other then the titles of being a husband, and her his bride.

Any conflicting feelings he had was her getting in his way. While she had redeemable qualities such as her beauty and clear subservient and passive personality, would make her easier to control. If he simply set the rules out for her now she’d remain out of his way. And he could continue his secret in peace.

—

Emily never complained much in her life, but she wasn’t immune to terrible thoughts intruding her.

The day after there wedding and they arrived to his manor they had parted ways. Crump instructed his staff to lead her to their now shared room and swiftly left for the rest of the evening. She had not seen him again until late nightfall.

She had attempted to talk to him, start a small conversation.

“What kept you?” She asked innocently.

For it was an innocent question, she knew whoever he had been it could’ve been tiring, from the ways his shoulders slumped and the sigh that escaped him the moment he entered the bedroom chambers. She had tried to say it as nicely as she could but perhaps she had said in a tone he did not approve of as he spun on his heel to stare at her.

“No concern of yours,” was all he said. It wasn’t said with anger, but Emily still made out the edge in his tone. Knowing full well it was not open to discussion she fell silent.

She had already slipped into her nightwear and sat at the edge of the bed as she watched him slip his waist coat of and placed his hat on the nearby coatrack.

Despite it being their wedding night she did not expect any grand gesture, she presumed him tired and was ready to simply go the sleep, but he approached her, slowly as if she were a wild creature and the slightest sound could scare her away.

He stood over her and he looked above her, grabbing her shoulders and softly pushing her down on top the bed and soon climbing on himself.

In between the gasping and light kisses that felt like feathers trailing against her neck and shoulder , a sensation caused by him. She processed as much that he did want to enact one last act of romance for her.

It wasn’t long until Emily realized that was the only form of romance she’d get out of him now.

When they weren’t in their chambers, using her to fulfill his desires every night, and who was she do deny her husband the right? To deny him anything? Even if she began to feel more and more unsure each passing day.

It was the only connection she felt from him, in the day he’d be off, either in his study, a room Emily was not allowed in located in a part of the mansion she was not allowed to go.

She’d often only see him at breakfast first thing in the morning in the large dining room where even their it felt like he looked over her, and at dinner. And of course their bedroom.

But nothing else.

Emily began to feel like disposable rubbish that was thrown to the side, unneeded. Until she was.

And she hated it. But she hated how she’d fold every time he’d give her a glance her way and she let herself think there was still a chance for that same old man that woe’d her at their first meeting to come back. To surprise her with flowers and hold her hands gently and the physical contact would stop at that. Just holding her hands and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles on the occasion.

A simple, yet sweet gesture she couldn’t help but love more.