After touring the estate and familiarizing myself with the home, I feel tired from the extensive walk. I sit myself down on one of the benches of the beautiful front porch and remove my boots; the counsel to wear them persistently on the farm, to avoid any unwanted creature, was well-heeded.
Ciri went off to fetch us some refreshments.
I stretch out my legs and recline, tilting my head back to savor the gentle breeze that caressed my face that morning.
I nearly doze off.
"Where exactly did you come from, girl?"
The question takes me by surprise, and I open my eyes to find Sebastian standing before me with that intense gaze that so troubles me.
It takes a moment to gather myself; then I meet his stare squarely from beneath without flinching.
"From Valedouro in the North of the country, your father's hometown, didn't he tell you yesterday?"
"I want to know how you ended up here, and what you plan to do. Because if it's love for my father you claim, I know better. At your age, only one thing comes to mind. You're a gold digger, planning to take advantage. But be assured, I won't let you take over, not by a long shot."
"And who told you that I have any intention of taking over? I am his wife, that is all. Can't you believe that your father can be happy with someone like me?"
"Happy? Is that what you think he wants? Perhaps he has interests that don't include happiness. The pleasures of a youthful, warm body in his bed, maybe..." He says mockingly.
"And if that's the case, why should it matter to you?"
Our conversation is icy, though the heat that rises in my body as I face him is intense and riddled with uncertainties.
Sebastian seats himself across from me, leans elegantly into one of the lounge chairs, and crosses his legs, allowing me a better view in the daylight.
He is the epitome of handsome, despite the arrogance dampening his otherwise perfect features.
His silky hair almost reaches his shoulders—straight and loose. He has a strong jawline, thin, pink lips, and perfectly aligned, white teeth. Tall and lean, yet with well-defined arms, evident even through his white shirt left casually unfastened at the neck, revealing a sculpted chest. His trousers fit snugly, paired with tall boots, and it's impossible not to notice the bulge therein. Men like him take pride in showcasing their virility.
Much like women flaunt their bosoms.
His large hands move expressively as he speaks, and his skin bears a light but sun-kissed tan. He has a harsh, robust voice and looks at you as though he wishes to crush you then and there. A partially shaven face, and those infinite blue eyes that draw one in; if you could swim, you'd dive into their depths...
The air around him screams of a rebel without cause, provocative and sensuous at the same time. Whenever he completes a sentence, I witness his pink tongue tracing his lips.
He doesn't often smile, but I am certain it would reveal a dimple if he did.
It is out of character for me to scrutinize men so closely; I've been taught by my mother that it is unbecoming for a lady, yet this type of man, his type, is too conspicuous to ignore.
I discreetly appraise his broad thighs bound in fabric. He seems aware of my gaze.
And then he suddenly shifts the conversation.
"Do you like what you see, Mrs. Montanese?"
His sharp observation catches me off-guard.
"What do you mean, Mr. Sebastian…" I say, diverting my eyes to his face, knowing mine must be flushed from my brief inspection of his physique.
He feigns a laugh but doesn't open his mouth. Instead, his hand rests on his thigh in an indisputable, masculine gesture that might have a woman reaching for a fan to cool herself. Had I my fan with me, I'd surely be using it now.
"From your assessment of my body, you think I didn't notice? You're comparing my father and me, aren't you? If so, you have your answer: I am the most virile of the Montaneses. And I lack nothing in experience, despite him being... how shall I put this... more... senile."
I let out an audible sigh at his audacity, expressing my contempt through a tightened expression.
"Rest assured, you're mistaken. I made no such comparison, and if I had, it would not be in your favor, for despite being senile, as you say, your father is quite virile and leaves nothing to be desired regarding the 'assets' to which you refer."
He laughs for the first time, a grin that is shamelessly saucy.
"Virile, my father? That's amusing, Mrs. Adelaide. I don't know why you married him, but certainly not for his youthful vigor. Yes, he may have some experience, but a young, sexy, fiery woman like you, not just anyone can handle, and certainly not him. If you need, the younger Montanese here is up for the task. I can satisfy you multiple times in a single night."
His words are brazen, sensual, and unreserved, making advances toward his father's wife without even knowing her? What disrespect. He's seemingly attempting to provoke, for surely he must know I'd report to Mr. Otto.
My gaze hardens as I look sternly at this mocking young man.
"I'll have no need of such things, and if I ever contemplated the idea, you would be the last man on earth I'd go to bed with. As hasty and conceited as you are, my only assurance is that... you would fail to satisfy me, something that with your father, I can assert with assurance, does not happen."
If he's looking for a fight, he'll get one. I'm generally good-natured, but provocation is something I won't stand for, especially when I witness such disrespect from a son towards his father, not to mention the indecency in how he speaks to me.
He stands and confronts me, towering above. Glancing upward so as not to behold the bulge in his trousers—an observation he clearly intends me to make—Sebastian seems to revel in his libertine disposition, apparently intent on shaking me with his lurid display.
"Come with me to the bedroom, and I'll show you who's impotent here."
The direction our conversation has taken has become exceedingly personal and now entirely offensive. What kind of man has the gall to say such intimate and vulgar things to his stepmother, who he's only known for a day?
I stand as well to meet his gaze, diminutive against his commanding stature but unfaltering all the same.
"Thank you, but I have no desire to be disappointed today, and... your father performed quite well last night," I assert with a victorious smirk, noticing how it disarms him.
Ciri arrives with the refreshments, and I take a glass.
He extends his hand, palm up in front of me.
"Do you see this hand? You will yet eat from it,” he says, touching the center with a finger, “lick your lips for more. I've never met one who didn't want to. Do you think being 'his wife' will exempt you?"
That's it. I'm incensed and promptly douse him with the drink, leaving him drenched and fuming.
Sebastian stands motionless, but his eyes burn with rage for my impetuous and surprising reaction.
"To douse your flames, Mr. Sebastian," I say, excusing myself as my virile and appealing husband has just arrived.
I leave to meet Mr. Otto, who indeed has just come home. Behind me, I sense Sebastian's seething anger, and Ciri suppresses laughter at the heated nature of our exchange.
What does this presumptuous fool think he is?
As my husband dismounts his horse, he's puzzled by my affectionate gesture. We had agreed to avoid intimacy and physical displays. Yet now, I would relish seeing the resentment in his son's eyes as his young and attractive wife passionately kisses his lips.
He laughs, not quite grasping the situation, but it seems he appreciates my boldness.
Barefoot, Mr. Otto notices my feet, covered only in socks upon the chilly grass, and promptly lifts me into his arms.
"You shouldn't be walking around like this; I'd never forgive myself if a creature dared harm you," he admits as he carries me to the top of the six steps, noting Sebastian, drenched and hands on hips, glaring my way.
"Though I do realize there are far more dangerous creatures right here," he adds with a double entendre, surely aware of his son's brazenness, marking his territory and revealing his irritation at this potential rival.
"Thank you, husband, for your charming gallantry."
Sebastian wipes his eyes with his coat sleeve and retreats toward his room.
This will be more challenging than I anticipated. The delightful Mrs. Adelaide Montanese is far from naive, and provoking her seems akin to shooting oneself in the foot or a plan backfiring. If he wants to upset his father through her, he will need to change tactics, and swiftly.
Stomping into the house, Sebastian bellows for his personal servant, sending a ripple of tension among the rest of the staff. Rarely does he lose his composure like this, and they know that when he does, someone will pay the price.
"Frederick, where are you?"
"Right here, sir."
The boy arrives, panting.
"Prepare a bath for me, at once."
"Right away, sir."
Frederick scurries off to summon the servants with water—his master is angry, and this bodes ill.
Sebastian prowls his room like a caged animal.
"That girl Adelaide is audacious..."
But I goaded her. I wanted to know what she was about because I observed the way she examined me. I'm familiar with the scrutiny of women; hers was a gaze that sought more than what my clothes concealed. If she married my father for some advantage, I will expose this to him; better yet, I'll rub it in his face. If he thinks bringing this girl here will allow her to take charge, he's gravely mistaken. I'll put her in her place.
He shakes his head to quell his anger, which has been flaring more frequently of late. Everything irritates him. Provoking his father is merely a distraction. He acknowledges his father's role in his past hurt, and punishing him seems to lighten the burden of the fact that someone must pay. Since Beni is immune to his provocations, destabilizing Otto seems his best option. After all, he bears responsibility for what happened.
It was the trigger that backfired.
He collapses onto the bed, taking deep breaths to calm down.
"That girl will pay for this. Who does she think she is? Barely out of diapers, yet she fancies herself experienced in affairs of the bed. Married but a week, she thinks sex is what old Otto believes he's providing? I'll make her regret her words; she will indeed capitulate to my will, and in doing so, I avenge myself on him for triggering Luise's absence.
I've unsettled many a marriage before, and his will be no exception.
I'm uncertain of his true intentions, but if he thinks bringing this girl here will drive me away, he's gravely mistaken. Now I have even more reason to stay. I will remain and ensure their life together is nothing short of hellish.
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