CHAPTER NINE MEETING THE MATRIARCH
Tatiana wiped the last smears of dirt from her hands and knees, remnants of her secret morning spent at the vegetable garden tucked behind Manclui Manor,
After changing into a fresh day dress of sunshine yellow linen, Tatiana made her way back Inside the grand mansion, her mind still lingering on her tryst with Dante in the garden.
Abruptly jolted out of her reverle, Tatiana was met with Dubois’s greeting. She reeled at the umpleasant thought that the butler may return and want more sexual favors In return for protecting her secret. She braced herself for what she believed would be his subdued but scary warnings as she made her way through the fog of her own concerns.
“Pardon me, Miss Tatiana,” came the gravelly voice of Dubois the butler. “Lady Antonia requests your presence on the rear porch for tea.”
Tatiana breathed a sigh of relief. Social calls with her mother–in–law were the last thing she desired that morning, but it was better than having to face Dubols’s demands again.
“Please inform her I will be along shortly,” Tatiana replied, adjusting the pearl earrings that had been her something borrowed on her wedding day. She fussed with her tidy hair in the hallway mirror, bracing herself for the visit. At least the sunny porch setting might make the meeting marginally more pleasant.
After what felt like a large number of wrong turns through the corridors, Tatiana finally located the doors to the rear garden porch. She paused on the threshold, smoothing imaginary creases from her skirts, before stepping out into the fragrant warmth.
Despite her reticence, Tatiana had to admit the porch was an ideal setting for teatime. Climbing roses and twining jasmine draped the white lattice walls, perfuming the air with their sweet scent. Iron garden furniture with cushions of rich brocade beckoned invitingly.
At an elegant iron table, Lady Antonia was meticulously arranging a tea service on a crisp linen cloth. The bone china pot was painted with delicate pink rosebuds that perfectly matched the porcelain cups and serving plates. A tiered stand boasted an array of finger sandwiches and pastries that made Tatiana’s empty stomach rumble despite her nerves.
For once, Antonia’s sharp features bore no trace of her habitual disdain and impatience. If anything, an almost cheerful mood seemed to animate the stately matriarch as she put the finishing touches on
the table.
“Tatiana, come sit with me, child,” Antonia beckoned, her voice a honeyed purr devoid of its usual
snap.
Warily, Tatiana perched on the edge of the proffered wicker chair cushioned in rose pink chintz. She watched speechlessly as Antonia poured steaming amber tea into the rose–patterned cups with a graciousness seldom seen from her.
“Sugar? Cream?” Antonia inquired solicitously, as if Tatiana were an esteemed guest rather than a
resident daughter–in–law.
“Just a spoonful of honey, please,” Tatiana requested after a pause to find her voice. She cautiously sipped the fragrant orange pekoe tea, still puzzling over Antonia’s pecullar mood.
Lady Antonia smiled benevolently, an expression Tatiana was certain she had never before witnessed on the severe matriarch’s face. “I trust you are comfortable here. Is there anything you require?”
“You are most considerate,” Tatiana murmured. In truth, her only lack was that of freedom, but voicing such would not be wise. “I want for nothing.”
“Excellent, excellent,” Antonia replied, nodding approvingly. She doled small cucumber sandwiches onto Tatiana’s plate. “We wish you to think of this as your home now. It brings us joy to see you settling into your rightful place.”
Tatiana nearly choked on her tea at this proclamation. Just yesterday, Antonia glared daggers at her for Roman’s abrupt departure. What prompted this abrupt, sunny demeanor?
After schooling her features into impassivity, Tatiana studied the matriarch’s now placid face for any hint of irony or malice. Finding only sincerity, she hazarded a return inquiry.
“I am grateful for your warm welcome. And are you well today, Lady Antonia?”
“But of course!” Antonia responded jovially. “In truth, I am feeling nostalgic for the memories of weddings past. I hoped sharing some of my favorite moments might lift your spirits.” A faraway look entered her sharp eyes.
Tatiana quickly hid her dismay behind her teacup. Reminiscing about bygone nuptials was the last thing she desired. But Antonia seemed keen to bond with her new daughter–in–law over matrimonial
tales.
Seeing no graceful escape from this tête–à–tête, Tatiana adopted her most diplomatic tone. “What a thoughtful gesture to share such joyful memories. I would be delighted to hear which weddings hold particular meaning for you,”
Antonia beamed, clearly gratified by Tatiana’s interest. “The most treasured was my own union with your father–in–law thirty years ago. Let me describe what an absolutely magical affair it was.”
“It was the summer of ’54 when Lord Mason and I wed,” Lady Antonia began, her sharp eyes taking on a distant, dreamy look. “Even now, I recall every perfect detail as if it were yesterday.”
Tatiana settled reluctantly into her wicker chair, resigning herself to endure whatever long, meandering reminiscences her mother–in–law wished to indulge in.
gown
“The ceremony was held at the stunning Lorelynn Chapel on my family’s estate, with marble columns and vaulted ceilings covered in intricate mosaics. I wore the most beautiful ivory satin trimmed with the most delicate lace and pearls sewn into swirling floral patterns across the bodice and trailing down the skirt.”
Despite herself, Tatiana had to admit she was impressed by the lavish description of the bride’s attire. She could practically envision the lovely young Antonia gliding toward the altar, ensconced in clouds
CHAPTER NINE MEETING THE MATRIARCH
of ivory silk.
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“The chapel was filled to overflowing with all the elite families of the county,” Antonia continued, gesturing grandly as she narrated. “Hundreds of guests from among the highest nobility were there to witness our union.”
She paused, a faraway smile playing around her thin lips. “When I arrived at the altar finally and your father–in–law lifted my veil, the way he looked at me…well, it was clear no other bride could compare
that day.”
Despite Antonia’s typical haughtiness, Tatiana thought she detected a genuine note of nostalgic romance in the memory. Though arranged, perhaps this marriage involved some real affection early
- on.
“The ceremony was simply magnificent. The Archbishop himself presided in his crimson robes and miter; the choral music soared to the heavens, and when we kissed at the pronouncement, I swear all the angels in paradise were singing their blessings over us.
Antonia dabbed delicately at her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief. “After the ceremony, Lord Mason took it upon himself to disrobe me. Oh, Lord Mason, what a man!”
Tatiana nodded along politely, turning her face away to hide her amused blush. Likely sensing her melancholy, Antonia reached over and patted her hand reassuringly.
There now, I shouldn’t dwell so long on the past. I merely wished to share some happy memories with my dear daughter. Lord Mason was a lot more enthusiastic than my dear Roman, see? He could not even wait till all my clothes were off!”
“Um, my lady, L…‘
Oh, hush, dear, you ought to have seen the way he ravished my young body with his giant cock. The way he pinned me down to the floor and thrust inside me like a wild wolf taking his bitch in”
Not able to stand any more of the raunchy details, Tatiana seized the opportunity to interrupt. “Your stories are most exciting, my lady. But I fear I must excuse myself to… I left an important piece of jewelry there.”
Antonia blinked but recovered her social smile. “Yes, of course, you go ahead.”
