Twisted Cinders

2.

"The wine, girl."

Elise jumped as Sir Grey's voice jolted her from her thoughts. She slid forward from her station against the wall in the corner of the dining room, and reached to refill his glass.

She hated this time of day, hovering behind Sir Grey's chair, at his beck and call. At least they barely acknowledged her presence. Usually, anyway...

Tonight, Sir Grey was in good spirits. A business deal had gone well -- some poor soul robbed blind, no doubt -- and together he and Lucan had emptied two decanters already. Lucan stabbed his food deftly, his cold, pale face impassive save for a lift of the left eyebrow and the corner of his mouth in a slight and permanent smirk.

As Elise reached to top up Lucan's glass, their hands collided briefly. She jolted back, sloshing wine slightly onto the table linen.

"Stupid child!" Sir Grey hissed, glaring sharply at her.

"Sorry sir." she replied flatly, mopping the cloth. She knew better than to stand up to Sir Grey, but she was damned if she would grovel. As she returned to her place in the corner, however, she felt eyes upon her and looked up to see Lucan leaning back in his chair, glass in hand, cold grey gaze piercing her as her eyes raked up and down her frame. Elise attempted to hide the shudder that ran through her.

"Hmmm..," Lucan mused, speculatively.

"What my boy?" Sir Grey idly queried, his attention back on his food.

"It strikes me, Father, that Elise over there may have grown a little over this past year." Lucan murmured, in his soft voice that never failed to cover an edge of malice.

"And?" Sir Grey sighed, raising his eyes at Lucan

"Well.... I suppose even she requires more clothes from time to time," He chuckled grimly.

Sir Grey turned to consider Elise, his dark brows drawn together. He was a fierce looking man, with a heavy jaw and dark, unruly hair. Elise supposed Lucan must have inherited his long aquiline nose and almost feminine curved lips and movements from his mother; there was not a hint of them in Sir Grey -- he was masculine to the point of brutishness. At that moment, his dark gaze was hovering appraisingly on Elise's chest, which unfortunately had truly outgrown her dress rather over the past year.

Elise squirmed slightly, staring at the tapestries on the opposite wall. Sir Grey cocked an amused eyebrow at her discomfort.

"You look more like your bitch of a mother every day." he drawled, continuing to survey her.

Elise closed her eyes, lest they betray the rage that welled up in her. She had become good at suppressing emotions over the past ten years, but as Sir Grey rarely acknowledged her, she was unused to taking such comments. If she resembled her mother, she was glad. She hoped it tormented him, if such a man could feel guilt.

When she opened her eyes again, Lucan's cold face was set in an even greater smirk.

"Yes Luc, I suppose you are right. I shall see about getting her a new dress -- we can't have visitors thinking we cannot afford to clothe out servants." Sir Grey declared. "Come and stand by my chair girl, and keep my glass full."

What visitors?! Elise thought. She could not remember the last time a visitor had come to the Manor, at least, not one that had ever had cause to see her. She kept out of sight, as commanded.

She moved to stand near Sir Grey's chair, reluctantly. Impatiently he reached out and clamped a strong hand on her arm, pulling her closer so her leg collided with the arm of his chair. Elise gritted her teeth.

Sir Grey returned to his food and continued discussing the day's events with Lucan.

By the time they started on the cheese, the wine was clearly affecting Sir Grey, whose voice had escalated in volume. Lucan was composed as ever, but his soft voice had become more animated and he leaned back further in his chair, laughing with his father. God, Elise thought as she watched them, they are unpleasant.

She would usually have escaped back to the kitchen by now with a book surreptitiously lifted from the library - no one else in the house appreciated them, and she had a steady supply stowed under her mattress. However, tonight here she was stuck by Sir Grey's chair like an obedient dog.

Suddenly, she felt something brush her leg. To her horror, she realised Sir Grey's hand had dropped down, and his fingers were trailing slowly up the back of her skirts, rubbing behind her knee. Elise froze.

Sir Grey continued to talk to Lucan, but his hand now rubbed along her inner right thigh, tracing little circles through her coarse skirt. Her skin crawled at his touch and she felt nausea rising as she fought to stay still, clamping her legs together.

His hand continued to creep up, until it finally reached her ass and began to knead the flesh there. Unable to stand it any longer, she attempted to move away, but Sir Grey grasped her hips and pulled her bodily down onto his lap.

"You will do exactly as I say, as I want... Understand?" He hissed hotly into her ear.

Elise stared at the wall, her face burning in rage and shame. Her eyes prickled, but she would not cry. She had not done that since her mother's death.

"You have no right to touch me, Sir." she spoke coldly, loading as much derision as she could muster into the word 'Sir'. Still with her eyes fixed to the wall, she heard Lucan's dark chuckle.

Her step father sneered. "I have every right," He breathed menacingly, "I have clothed you, fed you all these years, and you are as much mine as this chair I sit in."

As if to prove his point, He ran his hands up her thighs, to her waist, and continued until he grasped her breasts in his hands, pulling her back into him. The humiliation was painful.

He kneaded her breasts, pulling her back against him further. Elise could feel his laboured breathing on her neck, his hardness pressing against her ass. She bit her lip, and stared harder at the wall, desperately avoiding looking at Lucan who sat directly opposite, watching every moment.

"You were right Luc my boy, little Elise has indeed grown...to think I hadn't noticed until now" Sir Grey grinned at him over her shoulder.

Elise couldn't take anymore. Grabbing the edge of the table, she hauled herself away from him. He did not fight her. Her eyes met Lucan's for a brief second; his smirk was plain as ever, his eyes still cold, but intent.

"You bastard!" she hissed at him, not waiting to see his responding grin as she stumbled out of the room.

Their laughter echoed down the corridors behind her.