The Summer of 1916

Chapter Three: A Deal

The air quickly became heavy; dense with dirtied air that strangled my lungs. From outside, Tanya’s curses mingled with her prayers, exiting into the atmosphere. Small hiccups surfaced from the woman atop Alexander; her sobs breaking the tension in the air. Alexander paid no attention to her—he barely batted an eyelid when she frantically covered her breasts and fled the vicinity. In the chaos of it all, I was barely able to catch a decent glimpse of her face.

“I… I knew this was a bad idea,” I heard Tanya whimper from the corridor. Her peachy face loomed with mortification. Remembering the words I had senselessly uttered only moments ago, it became clear that I would have to fulfil my unintentional promise.

“I will take care of it,” I assured her. It was not at all a convincing vow, for her face scrunched further into itself and she shook her head. “Now you go ahead and skedaddle.”

Raising from his position on the ground, a naked Alexander courteously slipped on a pair of pants. His eyes pierced into mine, before rolling off. “Did I say anyone could leave?”

He spoke so vigilantly, so controlled. If he was perplexed, he did not at all show it. He did not seem the slightest bit embarrassed, nor did he show any remorse. In fact, as he shrugged on his cream shirt, he had the audacity to ask: “Does what you see please you?”

I wanted to scoff, I wanted to retaliate with the witty remarks I had gathered over the years, but I managed to remain composed. Though almost a day ago I was begging to return home, now that I was staring in the face of my ruined prospects, obliging was the only thing left I could do.

“I’m sorry.” Was he a sire? Was I supposed to say sire? No—he wasn’t one. I fell to my knees and, much to my own surprise, I began to wipe the stained floor with the edge of my skirt. The tea had spilled all over, leaving an abstract brown splodge on the floor. The colour continued to radiate outwards, despite my furious sponging.

“Get up,” he commanded. I felt my spine realign on cue, and I hoisted myself up, shifting my weight on one of his many dressers for support. “And you,” he addressed Tanya. I turned and saw her poor body stiffen. She looked more than frightened, her wide eyes spilling out of their sockets. Her little chest heaved forwards and backwards as she assessed his words.

“Leave her out of it,” I said quickly—matching my tone to his. He reverted his gaze to me and jeered in my direction. What a pig!

“What did you just say?”

My stomach retracted into itself. But, I was not going to let my false confidence fail me. Returning an equally dictatorial scoff, I restated my words. “I said: Leave her out of it.”

As I evaluated his face, I could see he was no longer domineering. It was then I realized—it was I who had the upperhand. If anyone was to be afraid, it would be him. I had this dirt against him! While I was not yet sure of how I would use it, I knew that at this moment in time, it was imperative that Tanya leave. With a defeated sigh, he turned back to Tanya.

“Leave,” he said. “Just—go.”

She did not have to be told twice. With a quick curtsy, she too left the vicinity—but not without shooting me a reluctant glance. Now, it was just Alexander and I. I looked at him for a long time, trying to figure out what I had stumbled onto.

He engagement had recently be announced, and it had caused quite a stir. Many of the girls back home sobbed at the idea of a handsome, eligible bachelor being sold off to another girl who supposedly was equally as handsome and rich. Bethany Brood was who she was—the daughter of an art patron and industrialist.

Their fast-paced relationship was one countless had swooned over, but I interpreted it to be the speedy joining of two businesses. The fact that no one speculated their relationship to be nothing more than a business merging sincerely racked my bones.