Counterweight

Her frame slumps lower with every step away from the study, her shoulders falling and head hanging as she uses the wall for support. Other than all this, she thinks she’s held herself together marvelously well. The tears have been held back, and during her reprimand in the study, she’d kept her spine straight and her expression void of emotions. Only yes, sir’s and apologies, sir’s falling from her lips.

But now, alone in the dark hall just outside her room, the lashing is taking its toll. Forehead resting on the cool wood of the door, she feels the tears slip down silently, and she licks away their salty wetness from her lips.

Mr. Marriott had been right to discipline her. Truth be told, she’s shocked he hadn’t dismissed her after her horrid display of outright disobedience and immodesty. And all in front of his guests. Her face runs hot and her stomach clenches with a twisting sting of embarrassment. She slides blunt nails down her smooth door in frustration. What had she been thinking? She should have left the moment her Master had ordered her to do so.

But Mr. Hall was there, and while at first the memory of his threat had her standing in place, if she’s honest with herself, that wasn’t the only reason. The teasing glint in his eye, his pleasure at her appearance and boyish grin had also held her there. Before then, she’d only seen him as a dark, foreboding figure. But in that room of powerful, selfish men, who would at any other time never even notice her, his playful demeanor seemed... different. As if he were asking her to help him put on a show for these men, something they wouldn’t even understand in their own arrogance, poking fun at them.

Sniffing, she rolls her eyes. Foolish. She was a stupid, foolish girl. He’d only been using her for his own amusement, just as any of those other men would gladly do. It was only Mr. Marriott who had the heart to save her from his and her own embarrassment while he could. She owed him a debt, to be sure.

The wave of heat that hits when she opens her door is a surprise, as is the glow of the fire popping in the fireplace, filling her room with an earthy, smoky scent. The maids usually left her to start her own fires, especially now with guests in the house, her needs were far below anyone else’s. With a frown she watches the flames, mesmerized as she tries to think of who would’ve done this. Perhaps Mrs. Flynn. She’d indeed heard Anna’s lashing by Mr. Marriott, and Anna felt that they were as close as two women working for the same man could be, despite their large age gap.

“Not yet sacked, I see.”

Her gasp comes out shrill as she collides back into her desk, and Hall grimaces at the sound. “Jesus, you’re going to get us caught before I can even use my leverage.” He lounges on her bed, back resting against the headboard with one knee up, filthy boot leaving dirt on her duvet. Once the shock has left her system, she marches over, knocking his knee down and off her bed, making him sit up.

“There’s no reason for any of that,” he says lightheartedly, “you’re still employed after all.”

“No thanks to you.” She tries to sound angry, and she is, but she’s also tired - of him and this entire situation.

He sighs, taking her more seriously. “I knew he wouldn’t fire you, Anna. Your employment is safe.”

Head shaking, she closes her eyes. She doesn’t understand this man, and she no longer wants to try anymore. “How? How could you know such a thing? Are you some sort of medium? Do you have a crystal ball hidden somewhere in your fancy clothes, perhaps?”

He snorts, grinning up at her, and the fact that her stomach begins to ache at the sight of his handsome face in the firelight means nothing she tells herself.

“Mediums aren’t real, Anna. But my intuition is.” He stands then, slow and sure of himself as his tall body slides up in front of hers, eyes never losing contact before he’s at his full height. “Believe me, you’d have to do much worse than a little disobedience to get Marriott to excuse you from his life.”

If she didn’t know him she’d think he were trying to make her feel better. But there’s another layer of this, as there always is with him. “Why wouldn’t he? There are hundreds of women who would be more than happy to be governess here.”

“Yes, I’m sure there are. But they aren’t you,” he says cryptically, and as frustrated as she’s becoming, she also realizes he’s pulling her back into his madness, and she’s not even trying to fight it.

“What does that matter?” she questions, taking a step back from him, trying to create space for herself to breathe and think. “I’m no more special than any other poor, **** girl.”

But he follows her, like he’s trying to use his heat and presence to overwhelm and confuse. “But to him you are.”

Beginning to feel the weight of the painful turn her life as taken these last few days, her body sags, breath releasing what’s left of the little fight she’d had, leaning against the door. “What are you talking about-“

With another step closer they’re nearly touching, the essence of him enveloping her. His smell of tobacco and mint, the inviting warmth of his body - the only body of a man she’s ever felt against her own. His very presence is invasive and intoxicating, and he knows it as he looks down at her with blue eyes that are ice cold yet still somehow make her feel like some wicked woman engulfed in flames, not meant to purify but pull her all the more deeper into darkness. And god help her, she wants to go.

“He wants to fuck you, Anna.” It’s a whisper, the words carried on a light cloud before disappearing like smoke between them, yet they land heavy and shocking, weighted down not only by the inappropriate language, but by what they were saying. Her fingers tremble as she clutches the fabric of her dress.

“And if my little experiment today showed me anything, I’d say he’s quite possessive of you as well.” He leans in, hands planting on the door on either side of her, essentially trapping her.

“It drives him mad, the thought of another man touching you.” He rests his forehead on hers, just the slightest touch. And she’s so still, hard like stone with her muscles tense enough to begin cramping. But she can’t feel it. Her mind spins, refusing to make coherent thoughts about anything other than lips so close to her own, lips that have caressed her skin.

A wetness pools between her legs where she’d touched herself the morning before, and the memory stokes the fire inside her that had already been roaring. And her heart - her poor heart.

“You’re mad.” It’s accusing but there’s no heat there, her voice coming out quiet and tremulous.

“You chose this, Anna. You chose to walk into that room at my behest, and stand by my side. All very much against your master’s wishes, hmm.” He nuzzles his nose against hers, tickling and innocent as their breath mixes between them, lips barely grazing.

She tries to get her thoughts in order, but they’re rushing too fast along with the blood in her veins, filling her ears with a constant hum. “All of the men,” she tries to explain, “they were waiting, they were staring at me-“

“And you liked it, didn’t you?” He lifts the corner of his mouth, she can feel the movement against her own. “You enjoyed forcing those nasty old men to pay you attention. I think you’d enjoy any moment when those deemed important are **** to notice the invisible little governess.”

She didn’t want to be seen that way. No. She understood and accepted her place in the world without question. She’s grateful for what she’s been given.

“Don’t worry, Anna, your secret is safe with me. In fact, my little social climber,” he says with a tweak of her nose, “we have more in common then I first thought.”

“I’ve nothing in common with a monster like you.”

“Oh, but you do. And not only that,” he begins when he leans forward once more, hot breath blowing in her ear as he caresses it with his lips, “but I think you may have some... undiscovered proclivities that correlate rather nicely with my own. Like two puzzle pieces that fit together just so.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she breathes, dreamy and soft, eyeing the orange flicker of the fire, dancing with abandon at the end of her room, though the image had begun to shift out of focus.

“I know you don’t, my simple Anna. But never fear, I shall show you in time.”

She raises her hands to push him away, but they end up clutching his jacket instead. “Why are doing this? What do you want from me?”

“Your obedience, pet.” Her breath catches as he bites the sensitive skin behind her ear, licking away the sting after. She’s in a proper daze when he lifts his head, eyes pouring over him but not really seeing anything. All she can do is feel.

“There a papers I need your help to find.”

“Papers?”

“Marriott’s papers. Work things.”

Eyes shutting tight, she realizes it’s easier to regain control over herself in the dark. “Any papers of importance would be in his study. Which you had a chance to search through, but instead chose to spend your time molesting me.”

Finally, he leans back, arms still bracketing her head, and he chuckles, inviting and real. “And it was indeed a fun time, sweet Anna-” shifting his arm for her to see his bandaged wrist- “but the papers I’m looking for aren’t in his study.”

“How do you know?” she asks accusingly, becoming annoyed with his smugness at apparently knowing everything. Then it hits her. “You’ve already looked. That’s why the door was unlocked that night. You unlocked it.”

“I have quite a few talents, lock picking is just one of many.” He catches her chin with firm fingers, but she doesn’t fight it, and she tries not to think about why. “But maybe, if you are a very good girl, I will show you some others.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“That’s because I’ve not given you anything yet.” His brows raise as if in warning. As if she should be afraid of not being gifted something from him.

She sighs, finished playing this particular game tonight. It’s so exhausting when she doesn’t understand the rules. Hands dropping away from him, she dips beneath his arm, coming to stand beside the fire. Surprisingly, he doesn’t follow, and she tries not to linger in the disappointment it makes her feel.

“The papers are hidden somewhere in this house, and I require your help in searching for them.”

“How do you know they’re here?” she counters. “This isn’t Mr. Marriott’s only home.” Guilt squeezes in her chest, remembering just moments before when she’d decided she owed her employer a debt. What happened between then and now?

The answer crosses his arms, appearing serious with his solid legs not looking the least bit wobbly like her own.

“I’ve searched the others. Quite thoroughly in fact.” Her head tilts with surprise. “This is not the first time Marriott has invited me to one of his homes,” he explains, “and you are not the first woman in his employ, who deemed it in their best interest to help me.”

Her jaw drops at that, eyes searching his.

“Jealous, are we?”

“You’re using me.” She says without thinking. It was a fact she’d already been aware of, but so far had been too afraid to inspect for a variety of reasons.

“Yes, well I thought that was obvious.” He begins to trail after her, but now she does take a step back.

“Don’t worry, Anna, you’re not the first woman I’ve used, but you are the only one who’s become useful in way I never imagined possible.”

She grinds her teeth refusing to meet his gaze. She wants him to go. Not just out of her room, but her life. Things were so much simpler before he invaded every part of her.

“You’re a very special girl. And if you help me, before this is over, I will make sure you see how much. You will not feel invisible for much longer.”

He comes up quick then, before she can react, and his hand finds purchase on the back of her head, pressing a kiss to her forehead with such tenderness every muscle within her relaxes.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow, I can see you’re tired. Good night, pet.”