Chapter 19: The Egyptian Boy

Fallon hid her disgust behind a shy, ladylike smile, taking in the sight of Lord Carrick and his son. Both appeared utterly unkempt and their clothing had definitely seen better days. Ever since Lady Carrick succumbed to her fever, two summers ago, her husband and son had done nothing but travel to distant lands and left the upkeep of their manor and grounds, to an army of servants, at their beck and call.

Fallon wondered if they even ever bathed. The smell of sweat from Warren, where he was sitting opposite her in the sunroom, was overwhelming. Thank God she had the presence of mind to open the window, before taking her seat. This was what she would have to endure as his wife? Being bedded by a regal urchin? Her stomach turned as she imagined doing her womanly duty with such a foul creature. How would she survive?

Unfortunately, her mother had told her it was a woman’s duty to submit to her husband at his choosing. No woman must ever initiate the act of surrender, nor appear to take pleasure from it. Only whores thrilled to the touch of a man, and if a husband needed to rut with a moaning beast, it was his right, to keep a mistress at his discretion.

Fallon hoped that Warren would keep a harem of mistresses at his disposal, to spare her the torture of his sweaty body atop of hers.

Yet again his lecherous eyes roamed over her body, and Fallon pulled her shawl tighter around her, covering her bosom. He smiled and her disgust was doubled as she noticed something she’d forgotten. He was missing two front teeth, and what remained in his mouth was beginning to rot.

She tried to focus her attention to the conversation their parents were having. Lord Carrick was describing in great detail how they would travel in the land of the Pharaohs, and Fallon felt a stab in her chest, realising Lord Carrick and his simpleton son, would be joining them on their adventure.

“We will travel from Imbabah, by ferry,” Lord Carrick said in his gruff voice. “From there we will travel 20 kilometers southwest to Giza on the westbank of the Nile, to the spectacular monuments. It will be a treat for Fallon to see these heathen structures. She seems quite learned.”

Fallon smiled as her parents did. Was that a compliment or a sarcastic remark? A scullery maid had more sense than his feebleminded son.

“Fallon is very excited, not only for the trip, but also her upcoming marriage to your son.” Arthur said.

“Indeed,” Abigail continued. “Why, just this morning she told me how she can hardly wait any longer.”

Fallon seethed with anger, but smiled her ladylike smile and kept her pose. If it were up to her, no woman would ever have to endure marriage to such a filthy, lecherous creature. Were there not enough prostitutes in Whitechapel, where he could satiate his lust? That would be her only use to him, for God knew, he could never challenge her mind.

“I am indeed honoured,Lord Carrick,” Fallon said. “I hope my addition to your illustrious family, will be a good one.”

She had practiced that little speech in front of her mirror, earlier, while her decrepit old servant, Cook, all but died laughing. Curse the old witch for practically being her only confidante!

It took everything in her, not to vomit in her own mouth.

As her filthy betrothed joined in the conversation their parents were having, Fallon caught a movement in the garden, from the corner of her eye. She turned her head and as she did, a slowburning, molten heat rose in her being.

The boy standing in the garden amidst the rosebushes was nothing less than the most handsome man she had ever seen. Olive skinned, with dark hair falling to his shoulders and a tight jacket and pants which could hardly contain his muscular frame, he turned as if feeling her eyes upon him. His eyes were dark as they met her’s and from where she sat, Fallon felt as if she were seeing the sun for the first time. He averted his eyes, turning away from her and for a moment Fallon forgot how to breathe.

“Who is he?” she asked softly.

The lecherous fool turned to her after looking out across the garden. “My manservant,” he answered. “Souniro. Father found him in that heathen land a few years ago.”

Souniro….His name burned in her mind and when she looked again, he was gone.