Her Secret Garden by Raven Jayne

Author:Raven Jayne [Jayne, Raven]
Language: eng
Format: epub

17

I’m attuned enough to the rhythms of the house now to sense a night of entertainment coming. One morning I wake up and see a servant in the gardens, patiently pruning back new growth along one of the pathways, and I think: ah-hah.

Tonight, then.

Tonight, all my practice will be put into action. Every hypothetical made real. I will play Magdalene, and hope to be redeemed afterwards as she was.

I go down to my garden, but I don’t start gardening my secret spot right away. It’s the last chance I’ll have to enjoy this place. I hope Uncle Arch will see what I’ve done. I hope he’ll continue my work. Though it’s easier to picture him naked than in a pair of gardening boots, perhaps he could also feel close to Lily here. The pang of hope that he’d feel close to me here too drives me to my feet and then to work. I’ve barely gotten started on the weeding when Martha appears in the doorway. “Mary,” she says. “You have to come with me.”

I’ve also been here long enough now to know that I’m allowed to be cheeky with Martha, so I straighten up and put a hand on my hip. “Do I?”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “But you do. Colin’s orders. He doesn’t want you wandering around with all of this going on.”

“I’m not wandering around!”

She rolls her eyes. “You know how he is.”

I have a flash of Colin berating me; I remember what Mrs. Medlock said about Colin’s punishments. I don’t know if he’d extend them to his employees, but I don’t want to chance Martha getting in trouble.

I follow her back to the house and up the stairs to my room. I’m only half listening to Martha’s chatter about the festivities tonight—what treats the kitchen is preparing, what color Dickon is dressing the girls in—most of my mind is on what’s going to happen to me.

I assume Neville has a plan to distract Colin, and will come get me when his nephew is otherwise occupied. Once I’m on the auction block, no one will be able to stop me from selling myself to the highest bidder. I can only pray that my mouth fetches a good enough price to get me what I need—my path back to the commune open again at last.

And maybe some real good will come of it, I tell myself. With a truly substantial dowry, I’d make a good match. And whoever I do marry, well, he’ll be getting more than he bargained for if he likes having his cock sucked as well as Neville promises all men do.

Of course, I’ll have to pretend he’s my first. But I can do that.

I wonder if he’ll have a care for my pleasure as well. The Song of Solomon is the only indication in the Bible that a woman is capable of enjoying anything beyond her duties. Perhaps it’s a topic the other wives will discuss with me as I’m prepared for the ceremony.

I wonder what I should do to prepare myself for tonight’s ceremony.

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