Chapter Eighteen - Dowager Cottage

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Selene crawled out of bed and opened the curtains. Up here on the cliffside she could hear the wind whistling round the edge of the building like a wounded animal; calling out into nothingness, creeping round the bricks.

The sun dappled the sea with sparkles, but otherwise it looked murky and dull. But nonetheless the view was spectacular, and she wondered whether Arthur had ever looked at the window when the sun shone, or whether he only looked out after nightfall.

She wandered through to the bathroom and locked herself in. She leant her arm against the door and let her head rest on her arm. She closed her eyes and stayed like that for a while. He muscles ached from the dancing she had done the night before; she was out of practise and her body was unused to the movements.

She took a deep breath and turned round, leaning her back against the door. When she raised her eyes, she saw herself reflected on all sides of the room. Her hair was bedraggled and her arms were marked where the crumples of the sheets she had lain on all night had imprinted onto her skin.

Her dress was crumpled and she looked at it now in disgust, appalled at how she had though the slit up the side looked sophisticated, the off-the-shoulder strap, they way it clung about her breasts. The whole ensemble just looked like she had tried to hard. As Arthur said, she had chosen it all deliberately, and now, seeing herself with fresh eyes, she found herself embarrassing. She pulled her arms around her chest and sank down against the door, pulling her knees to her chest.

And then she began to cry. Great wracking sobs that threatened to tear her chest apart. She felt pathetic, deplorable, and yet she could not stop the tears from falling. She felt she had exposed herself; she had let Arthur know how much she wanted him, and he had thrown it back in her face, choosing to taunt her by denying her any kind of satisfaction.

And there was something worse still. There was the feeling that no one here cared for her. That no one loved her or wanted her. That here, at Epershand, she was just another perverse means of providing satisfaction to others, whether it be Jonathan Masters or Arthr himself. She was nothing but another object, another woman in a dress; another pair of breasts, legs, buttocks.

As she began to think of how little she meant to anyone in the entire world, she began to sob even harder; so hard, in fact, that she could barely breathe. The only person who had ever cared for her was Hector, and now he was gone.

She sat on the marble floor for what seemed like hours, until she felt she had the strength to get up and take a shower.

She wound a towel about her before wriggling out of the dress, remembering what Arthur had said about the cameras. With relief she let the damn dress fall to the floor in a lifeless heap and kicked it across the room. Then she slipped inside the shower cubicle and let the warm water wash everything away.

*

"Are you ready?" called Arthur.

"One minute," called Selene, from inside the dressing room. She had chosen a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a jumper, and a pair of trainers. She was surprised to see that Arthur's wardrobe included such items, but she was delighted to have found them.

"You opened my curtains," he growled. "You shouldn't do that."

"Sorry. I forgot to close them."

He didn't reply, and Selene quickly brushed her hair and stepped out into the bedroom, which was dark once more, but the curtains were still open. Instead, shutters had been closed on the outside of the building.

"I only need press a button and they go down immediately," said Arthur, waving a hand at them in explanation.

He looked her up and down. "You look casual."

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