C3 Will you teach me?

Before the butler could finish, a feeble voice traveled from inside the bedroom punctuated by a cough.

“Is that you Jane? Come in”.

Jane arched one brow at the butler who had no choice but to step aside and let her in.

Ethan Harrington’s bedroom was sparsely furnished, a stark canvas of black and white that was almost stifling to look upon. He was still in his wheelchair. He coughed several times before turning his gaze to Jane in an unspoken question.

“I’ve never been anyone’s wife before”, she explained, “I thought I’d… come and ask what duties are required of me”.

The words were poised to leave Ethan’s tongue, to assure her that nothing was needed of her, but then he changed his mind.

“The room is a little warm. If you don’t mind… you could help me change my clothes”.

He was still dressed in his formal suit from the wedding. Jane nodded, moving to unbutton his suit with deft fingers.

As she was removing his jacket, their eyes met. She didn’t resist, allowing him to observe her. Once his jacket was off, Jane reached out to unbutton his shirt but he stopped her, saying, “I can manage this on my own”.

She didn’t argue.

“Okay. You might have a harder time with your pants though, so let me help you with them”.

Ethan didn’t respond.

Despite her initial assertiveness, Jane soon found herself struggling with the task. She never had cause to unfasten a man’s belt before, and after several failed attempts, she was forced to ask for help.

“Could you show me how to do this?”

Wordlessly, Ethan took hold of her soft, small hands and guided them to the hidden buckle at the side of his belt. With a click, the belt came undone.

“A hidden buckle”, Jane murmured, fascination playing across her face.

“I see”, without giving him a chance to refuse, she briskly pulled down his pants.

Ethan had been prepared to tell her to let the butler assist him instead. He fell silent, feeling the chilly caress his lower body. While removing his pants, Jane could not help her skin grazing his.

He swallowed harshly and willed himself to have self control, normally he wouldn’t be affected but it would seem that it was different with his little wife.

Her fingertips were warm and soft, brushing across his legs like the kiss of a feather. Her eyes traveled the length of his legs — slender, well-muscled and full of strength.

Ethan found himself helpless but to sit under her unconcealed scrutiny. He placed both hands on his knees in a futile attempt at modesty.

“Thank you. Please ask Bruce to come in”.

He doesn’t need my help anymore? Jane was about to insist that she was just as capable of assisting him when he interjected, seemingly anticipating her response, “Forgive me, I’d like to preserve a little dignity”.

His gaze dropped to his bare legs and for the first time, beneath his gentle and placid demeanor, she glimpsed a flicker of forlornness.

“Apologies”, she blurted out, “I didn’t think of it that way”.

Helping him remove his pants was vastly different from helping him wear them. No doubt a man of Ethan’s status would be conscious of being reduced to such a vulnerable state in front of others.

Bruce entered, his eyes widened as he caught sight of his Young Master’s exposed legs.

“Young Master! How could that woman have been so bold? What was she thinking? Did she force you?”

Ethan’s dark eyes flickered his way, he rose from his wheelchair, crossing the room in few sure-footed strides to pull on a pair of trousers.

Standing tall and upright in front of the full length mirror, he took off his mask and the false skin beneath it peeled away, revealing the cold, hard edges of his jawline — and a startlingly handsome face; a divine work of art, immaculately sculpted.

His gentle facade faded.

When he spoke, his voice was full of cold command, “Go find out everything you can about Jane Fitzergald”.

His wife had claimed she had married him of her own accord but what secrets did she hide? What circumstances had pushed her into making that choice?

*. *. *. *. *.

There were plenty of servants in the mansion, enough that Jane need not lift a finger to perform any task herself if she so desired. Still as a gesture of goodwill, she donned an apron and decided to personally make breakfast for her husband.

After she finished preparing the meal, she was about to go upstairs to call Ethan when she heard the sound of a door opening. A man in a red suit walked in.

He caught sight of Jane and surprise flashed in his gaze.

“Are you a new cook? You’re a pretty one”.

He closed the distance between them, taking her chin in his fingers and leering at her.

Jane pulled away, her expression darkening as she retreated backwards.

“Who are you? Don’t touch me”.

A smirk stretched across the man’s face as he approached her.

“Why, I’m the secretary son of the Harrington family, Toby… Toby Harrington. Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize me?”

“The second son of the Harringtons”, Jane echoed with mockery, keeping her distance from him.

“You think that gives you the right to paw me whenever you like? Stay away from me or you’ll regret it”.

“The little minx bites back. I like that”.

Toby Harrington ran his tongue over his lips and slowly cornered Jane against the wall.

“Why not give me a chance? You’ll find I’m a far better catch than my washed out weakling of an older brother. I could give you a house, a car, a fancy designer bag and, of course, lots of pleasure…”

Two people witnessed the scene from the corner of the stairwell on the second storey.

“Shall I do something?”