The long days of the next week blurred into a sameness for Constance. She fell into a melancholy of the spirit, losing interest in reading and painting and all the other activities that had delighted her only a short while before.
She slept late, and frequently napped her way through much of the afternoon, and the rest of the time was passed in absently wandering the garden or just sitting, sitting on her balcony and staring out at the distant line of the horizon.
Nana Eva finally became concerned enough to remark on it, but attributed Constance’s listlessness to the weather, which remained wretchedly hot and still. Never once did she hint at suspecting anything different. Neither did any of the rest of the servants, and when Rob granted them another night’s holiday they adored him for his generosity.
Constance knew his plan from the moment he made that so gracious-seeming announcement, and wanted to scream out the evil truth. But her shame kept her silent, just as Rob wanted, until it was far too late. By the time she’d mustered the courage to confess, it had been going on for so long that she couldn’t bring herself to do it. How could she tell anyone, when it had been a matter of
weeks
?
So it was that she watched the servants leave with a heavy heart, knowing what awaited her.
And yet, most repugnant of all, as the gates swung closed behind the last of them and the house was blanketed with an expectant hush, her cheeks flushed and her pulse raced with anticipation. It sickened her and filled her with self-loathing, but those were swiftly lost in the rising storm of her depraved passions.
That evening, Constance dressed with attentive care even as she hated herself for it. She descended to the dining room, the marble floor cool under her bare feet.
Rob was waiting for her, lounging in the chair at the head of the table. He swept his gaze over her approvingly.
“How luscious you look, dearest Constance! That gown I brought you is most becoming.”
She lowered her lashes, her blush darkening. The gown was unlike anything she’d ever owned before, and she had no idea in what brothel he’d found it. Of stunning blue-green silk, it was nearly transparent and swirled around her as if she were clad in sea water. Her bosom strained at the deep pearl-adorned neckline, and the slits up the sides of the skirt showed her legs to well above the knee whenever she moved.
“Yes, most becoming indeed,” Rob said. He swung his feet down from the table and stood, circling her to examine her from all angles. “Oh … lest I forget, I’ve been meaning to give you this, as well.”
Constance, expecting another gift, perhaps of jewelry, was surprised to be handed a plain flask stoppered with a cork. “What is this? Brandy?”
“Nothing quite so palatable, I’m afraid, but far more necessary. It’s a draught brewed by the island women. Drink up.”
She uncorked it, and wrinkled her nose at the bitter scent that rose from the flask. The liquid within was murky and brownish. When she dipped the tip of her tongue to it, she grimaced.
“It’s foul, Rob! What is it?”
“A tonic to prevent you conceiving,” he explained with a matter-of-fact shrug.
The bottom dropped out of her stomach as she stared at him. “To prevent
what
?”
“Conceiving. That would give away our little secret and spoil all our fun, now, wouldn’t it?”
Like a slap to the face, the reality of her situation hit Constance. “You can’t mean that I could … get with child?”
“Well, that’s what the tonic’s for. Even if you already are, from our previous dalliances, this will put an end to it.” He chuckled at her expression. “Don’t worry, little sister. I’ve taken care of everything. Now drink it up, and then set three places for dinner.”
“Three?”
“I’ve invited Enrique to dine with us tonight.”
“But --” She made a distraught gesture at her gown.
“For pity’s sake, Constance, he’s already seen you with more on view than that. You look as beautiful as a sea-nymph, and I want to boast of my possession.”
Reeling, unable to come to terms with the idea that she might have conceived of her brother’s seed
and
the prospect of Enrique’s company, Constance floundered for words and then gave up, fleeing to the kitchen with the flask. She heard Rob’s laughter trailing after her like ribbons.
The tonic was detestable but she quaffed it in a single gulp, then clung to a chair trembling and waiting to see if she would vomit it back up. Her innards churned horribly and her gorge rose in a series of short, sharp jerks, but in the end, everything stayed down and she was able to banish the vile aftertaste with a flagon of fruit juice.
As she was fetching plates, she heard the toll of the bell-pull, followed moments later by Rob and Enrique’s voices coming into the dining room.
“Am I to believe that?” Enrique was scoffing.
“I swear to you, it is true. Constance! Where are you, my fine whore?”
Face flaming, Constance looked yearningly to the door that gave onto the back terrace. For one wild moment she considered running for it, escaping to the village, finding Nana Eva and telling her everything. That would put a stop to the perversity …
But then, in her mind’s eye, she imagined Nana Eva asking her how long this had been going on, and why she’d said nothing before. And Rob, even if they confronted him, was so clever and charming that he could probably convince them that she had been the seducer, and he only powerless to resist.
“Constance?”
She straightened her spine and went into the dining room.
Enrique’s dark eyes widened in astonishment and appreciation. “Good God, Rob!”
“I told you.”
“What have you told him?” cried Constance.
Rob licked his lips. “Everything, sweet sister. How I found you in your room last week caressing yourself, and how you rode me like I was an untamed horse --”
She whimpered in dismay even as his words sparked flickers of lust in her.
“So it’s true,” marveled Enrique. “And she doesn’t resist?”
“Resist? My friend, she loves it, craves it, thrives upon it! Never have I known a cunny more hungry for cock! If I gave the command, she’d spread herself for me right now!”
“Dinner can wait,” Enrique said, all but salivating. “I’ve been able to think of nothing else for a fortnight!”
Constance let the plates fall with a clatter of crockery. “Rob … no, not with him here, not with him watching!”
“He’s seen it before,” Rob said again. “I want to show him what an eager little slut you’ve become. But we can at least have dinner first.”
