Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

LIZZIE

L ondon. One week later.

My life was… complicated.

It was inevitable that the press would find out about our engagement. One of the world's most eligible bachelors was off the market. What I hadn't been prepared for was the feeding frenzy that followed. My life and background splashed across the internet and newspapers. Countless paparazzi tailing my every move. And of course, Jane agreeing to do interviews as my closest friend, giving romantic details about my relationship with Richard. Curiously, she rarely got any of the details correct, and yet Richard seemed pleased whenever he saw a video or article with her name. It was as if she was acting as a counteragent to anything unsavory that might come out. I also noticed she carefully avoided any mention of my time on his estate.

As crazy as it sounded, I was now longing for that time again. Where I lived in a protected cocoon of daily strolls around the garden, horseback rides into the country, lazy afternoons spent reading in the conservatory and elegant dinners with pretty dresses and jewels. My wanting to go back to that time only reinforced my belief that it was me, not Richard, who had started the game and then went in so deeply I'd gotten… lost for a little while.

My guilt over accusing him of manipulating me and playing some kind of evil game with my mind and body kept me in check during all the hectic wedding plans that swirled about me. Whenever I felt trapped or indecisive, I reminded myself it was Richard who loved me and protected me and always had my best interests at heart. It was me who twisted and confused his love into something dark and wrong. I would never question him or his motives again.

Especially not now, when he was so eager to keep me safe.

The announcement of our upcoming wedding had also brought out a troubling number of death threats and hate mail from all over the world. Most of it was from poor delusional people who were mostly harmless. The problem was it made it that much more difficult trying to learn who had threatened me with the dead bird and bloody feather. The suspect pool went from a handful of people to thousands overnight.

Richard worked tirelessly to narrow it down. There was no clear shot of the mysterious maid. Apparently, she had seemed to know where the cameras were and just when to tilt her head to avoid being captured on film. So, for now it was a dead end.

My fear over Richard reviewing the security tapes and learning I had stolen a mobile turned out to be unfounded… just like the rest of my fears about him. Two mornings after we returned from Paris, as I was adding birdseed to Dior and Coco's dish, Richard strolled into the room and placed a new cell phone on the table nearest to me.

"Apparently you have been wanting one," was all he said before kissing me on the forehead and leaving for a meeting.

Sure, it was one of those children's phones that had a GPS system that could not be disabled and only allowed for a limited number of phone numbers and highly restricted internet searches, but Richard explained it was for my safety since these phones were harder to hack. Since he owned several technology companies, of course I believed him. Why wouldn't I?

You would have thought a high-level dignitary or perhaps some huge celebrity was arriving the way I rolled up to a meeting with my dressmaker.

Richard insisted on two security cars flanking my driver and car at all times. After arriving, I waited somewhat impatiently in the back seat of the BMW X5 Security Plus, which was just a fancy way of saying big fucking scary armored car. I overheard one of the security guards say it was actually bulletproof against an AK-47.

I kept my hands folded in my lap, remembering all too well the severe punishment I had received from Richard two days ago when he had learned I had opened my own car door and stepped out onto the street before the all-clear. Shifting in my seat, I swore I could still feel the welts from his belt.

Normal Richard was incredibly intense… high-alert, worried-about-my-safety Richard was in another orbit, over-the-top intense. Last night over dinner, I had teased about him resorting to having me locked away in a tower on some island in the middle of the ocean. He hadn't laughed. In fact, he had just stared at me in a rather unsettling way before he changed the subject.

Finally, the door opened.

The flashes blinded me. Fucking paparazzi. Richard told me to ignore them, but he wasn't the subject of their fascination.

Lizzie!

Lizzie!

Sweetie, over here!

Here!

Oi! Oi!

Lowering my head, I tried to make my way into the shop.

Hey! Lizzie!

Oi! Is it true you're a gold digger?

Hey, gold digger!

Whore!

Without thinking, I turned to give them both middle fingers. "Fuck you," I yelled before ducking through the open door.

The moment I did it, I regretted it. If Richard found out he would be furious. He specifically has told me not to engage or give them anything to comment on. Didn't the middle finger mean something different in England? Didn't they flash the peace sign as their middle finger or something like that? Maybe I would get lucky and they wouldn't see the gesture for what it was.

Wishful thinking.

"Lady Elizabeth, welcome!"

"It's just Elizabeth here, Maxine."

Maxine pretended to zip her lips shut, then gave me a wink.

Casting an uneasy glance around the elegant boutique, I nervously looked to see if anyone else was observing our conversation. Maxine was one of the few people who Richard allowed to visit me while on the estate. She was a genius with a needle and had brought many of my Victorian dress designs to stunning life, but that didn't mean I wanted the details of Richard's and my little game to leak to the press.

"I have had all four of my seamstresses working round the clock since we got Richard's message, chéri . We already have it patterned out in muslin for you to try on."

"So soon? There is no rush. We haven't even started planning the wedding."

"My dear, with Richard there is always a rush," said Maxine as she fluttered her hand in the air dramatically.

Richard had asked me to come to Maxine's this morning to start my wedding dress plans. I had no idea she had already cut the pattern on something.

"What design are you using?"

Maxine laughed, her bright red lips opening in a perfect circle. "Why, yours, of course! It is beautiful, chéri . Some of your best work." Looping her arm through mine, she led me down a narrow hallway to a private lounge. "Love the outfit, chéri . I'm not used to seeing you in such modern fashions."

I straightened the black velvet vest over the short lavaliere-neck dress in cobalt blue silk with gold embroidery that had arrived from Yves Saint Laurent in Paris yesterday. I gestured to the tejus-embossed gold leather boots. "Do you think the boots are too much?'

"No. No. No. My darling, when you date a man like Richard you cannot be afraid of a little flair and drama."

Ain't that the truth.

Maxine clapped her hands. A woman with icy blonde hair and long bangs that covered her eyes appeared with a glass of champagne on a tray decorated with red roses.

Taking the crystal flute, I tilted my head to get a better look at her. "I'm sorry. Have we met?"

The woman glared and walked away without answering. At least I think she glared; I couldn't tell because of the bangs. Perhaps she thought I was insulting her?

"Here is the design," announced Maxine as she strolled back into the room holding a large notebook filled with heavy card stock pages.

I recognized one of my favorite wedding dress designs. It was just something I had been playing with, a classic bodice with a more modern angle for the draped flounce around the waist ending with the standard drape and lines of a traditional Victorian dress.

"Your fiancé has chosen the most exquisite mulberry silk in a gorgeous champagne color. It will make your skin glow, chéri ."

Fiancé.

It was the first time I had heard it uttered out loud.

Fiancé.

Richard was my fiancé.

Wow.

There was a loud crash.

Maxine and I both turned to see the blonde had dropped her tray.

"Stupid fool," scolded Maxine. She clapped her hands again. "Go and get the bodice and muslin for Miss Elizabeth." Then turning to me, she sighed and said, "That girl is new this week and already I want to fire her."

She then redirected my attention back to my drawing. "Are you familiar with mulberry silk, chéri ? Ah! My! It is glorious, so delicate and soft. It will float around you like a cloud and shimmer with each movement."

I was familiar with the silk. It was one of the most expensive fabrics in the world. It's said they only fed the silkworms mulberry leaves. The result was a pure white, luxurious silk that allowed for perfect uniformity no matter what color you dyed it. It was the perfect, albeit extravagant, choice. Typical Richard, the best at any cost.

I ran the tip of my finger over the pencil drawing of the rather intricate beadwork pattern I had created, depicting orange blossoms. I had designed it based on a piece of Victorian lace I had come across in a book, knowing orange blossoms were a traditional symbol of good fortune and popular in Victorian weddings after Queen Victoria herself wore a crown of orange blossoms for her wedding to Prince Albert.

"Will you be able to recreate the beadwork?"

"It will take some work, but for you? Of course! I have already ordered the Swarovski crystals, per Richard's instructions. You must look perfect. After all, the world will be watching."

Smiling nervously, I raised my glass and took a long sip of champagne.

We hadn't even started truly planning the wedding yet and already I was grateful for Richard's guidance. Apparently, marrying a member of the royal aristocracy was a really big deal in England.

Maxine continued to prattle on about using fresh orange blossoms in a wreath of flowers in my hair for the veil instead of the more common diamond tiara and something about it causing a sensation. I wasn't really listening.

All I could think about was Richard and how I truly didn't know what it would mean to become this powerful and influential man's wife. Was I up to the task? I worried my lower lip as I feared the answer. Once again, I wished Richard was here. I always felt more confident about myself when he was around. He always took charge of every situation and I found I had become used to it.

Of course, he couldn't be here. It was probably improper for the groom to see the wedding dress in any form before the wedding.

The clumsy blonde brought the muslin pattern and bodice into the lounge. While the rest of the dress was in the rough-cut muslin pattern, it looked as if the bodice was mostly finished. It was in the classic Victorian style, a stiffened silk reinforced with whalebone that laced up the back. I stared in awe as she placed it on the dress form.

Even in the simple cream muslin, the dress looked stunning.

Maxine fluffed the train as she stretched it across the floor. Even in the spacious lounge there was not enough room for the twenty-foot train. "Now of course this will all be lace with crystal beads," said Maxine.

Standing, I circled the dress form. Fingering one of the cap sleeves, I asked, "Do you think this makes it look too dated and… I don't know… childish? Maybe we should change it to a sweetheart neckline with wide straps."

Maxine shook her head. "No. No. No. You just need to see it on."

She clapped her hands, and the blonde raced over to help me out of my velvet vest. Then the silk dress was whipped over my head, a little bit too roughly. There was no such thing as modesty in a dressmaker's workshop. Left in only a thin lace peach bra and panty set with my gold boots, I crossed my arms over my breasts as I waited for them to unlace the bodice from the dress form.

"Maxine. You have a phone call. It's Eugenia. She says the dress is all the wrong color. She wanted lipstick red, not crimson red."

Maxine rolled her eyes. "Try on the bodice, Elizabeth. I will return."

The lounge felt strangely tense and awkward the moment Maxine left.

"Arms up," demanded the blonde.

"Sure. I'm Lizzie, by the way."

She didn't respond.

So much for breaking the tension.

She wrapped the bodice around my front and pulled it tight.

"Wait! Something's wrong!" I exclaimed as I pulled at the bodice. "I think a few pins are sticking me."

The blonde continued to pull roughly on the laces of the corset-style bodice, pulling it tighter and tighter.

"Stop! Something's wrong!"

I could feel hundreds of pinpricks piercing my skin.

I tried to wrench away but felt a kick to the backs of my knees. I crashed to the floor. The blonde placed her knee on my lower back and used her body weight to pull the corset laces even tighter.

I could feel the familiar tugs and pulls of her knotting off the laces, trapping me inside the extremely tight corset as pins dug deep into my flesh.

Using all my strength, I inhaled as much as I could with her weight on my body and the tight clasp of the bodice around my ribs and screamed, "Help!"

"Elizabeth?"

It was Richard calling out to me from somewhere in the workshop's front.

The weight of the blonde lifted off my body.

"Richard! Richard! Help!" I cried.

A moment later, Richard appeared in the lounge's doorway with Maxine right behind him.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" he roared as I struggled to rise to my knees.

As I desperately grasped at the bodice, small coppery red stains appeared as blood from the pinpricks soaked through the expensive silk.

Richard's face hardened in rage when he saw the blood. Racing to my side, he knelt on the floor next to me and started pulling at the laces, trying to loosen them.

I shook my head, only having enough breath to choke out one word. "Knotted."

By now my security detail as well as several other employees from the shop had gathered in the lounge to stare in horror at the strange spectacle.

Richard furiously looked around. Spying my champagne glass, he grabbed it by the stem and smashed it against the table. "Hold still, baby."

Wrapping his arm around my shoulders to keep me as still as possible, he used the sharp broken edge of the champagne flute to slice through the corset laces. Immediately, the tight corset loosened and I could breathe.

Clawing at the bloodstained silk, I pulled the offending garment away from my body but Richard placed his large warm hands over mine, stopping me.

"Everybody out!" he demanded. Nodding to Maxine, he said, "Soak some cloths in warm water and get me something to use as a blanket."

Maxine's bright red lipstick looked like a macabre slash across her overly pale face. Her usually chatty demeanor gone, all she could do was nod and turn to do his bidding.

Clasping my tearstained cheeks, Richard captured my gaze. "Baby, I want you to keep your hands at your sides and let me do this, okay?"

Pressing my lips together to keep from crying, I nodded my head.

His hands looked enormous and almost menacing against the delicate cream silk, but his touch could not have been gentler. Reaching around my torso, he carefully pulled open the two halves of the corset. I cried out as one by one the pins were pulled out.

"Shh… I know, baby. I know. This is almost over," he murmured in my ear as he continued to pull the fabric away from my body.

Once the bodice was released from my back and sides, he paused. We both knew the pins were dug in the deepest in my front and over my breasts.

Looking down, I began to whimper, knowing it would hurt.

"Look at me," demanded Richard.

His dark blue eyes caught my gaze.

I felt a tug on the fabric and looked down to see small bloody pinpricks across my breasts.

"Eyes on me, baby girl."

Never able to resist his command, I obeyed, drawing strength from him as he finally pulled the horrible garment off of me.

Richard unleashed a vicious string of curses under his breath. Looking down, I could see why. Someone had placed hundreds of pins sticking straight out on the side of the fabric that would be against the skin. When you looked on the other side, all the pin tops were carefully hidden among the seams and whalebone stay stitching.

This wasn't an accident.

"The blonde girl, it was her!" I blurted out.

While obviously not meant to kill, they were meant to send a nasty message.

With one of Richard's men guarding the door to the lounge while he issued orders to the rest of his security crew, Richard wiped the already drying blood off my skin with the warm, wet cloths Maxine had brought. Each time I hissed from the sting, I could see the lines of his face harden.

He was furious.

Very, very furious.

Raising my hand to his cheek, I tried to reassure him. "I'm fine, really. It was just a nasty scare."

Grasping my hand in his own, he placed a fervent kiss on my palm before placing our clasped hands over his heart.

Just as Richard was wrapping a long length of soft wool over my shoulders, Harris arrived.

"Secure the place. No one leaves," ordered Richard.

"Should I call the police?" asked Maxine.

"No," snarled Richard.

Everyone in the room exchanged anxious looks. They knew what his refusal to involve the authorities meant.

Swaddling me in my makeshift blanket, Richard lifted me in his arms. As he stormed out of the lounge, Harris kept pace. "Your Grace, it can't be her. We took care of that situation months ago," he declared emphatically.

"Obviously not," ground out Richard through clenched teeth.

His arms tightened around me. I knew better than to ask any questions.

Still, I couldn't help thinking… maybe I wasn't the only woman Richard liked to play games with?