"Okay… Marcus." The name felt sweet on her tongue. She loved his name more than she would ever admit. She liked a lot of things about Marcus that she would never admit, at least not to his face.
Winifred yawned, turning her face away form him. Sleep had set in deep in her bones. She had hardly noticed the weariness that had taken her over.
Marcus set the soup on her bedside table, gently taking hold of her shoulders and sliding her farther down on the pillow. He brought the blanket all the way up to her chin, tucking her in with a tenderness to his motions that he was scared to acknowledge. “Sleep tight, Winnifred…”
Winifred watched Marcus with wide eyes. He was so gentle and tender as he touched her, as if he moved to fast or held her to roughly, she would bruise. A warmth and tenderness all her own began to expand in her chest. Marcus Crenshaw….you are something else…
"Thank you, Marcus. I believe I will…" A yawn broke through once more. She gave Marcus a weak smile before she closed her eyes, dreaming of his touch and a pair of chocolate eyes that searched hers desperate for something more.
He will be my undoing…
(Yes he will, Winnifred Darcy, yes he will)
(Is Luc going to come in now?)
Marcus faltered for a moment, standing above her before leaning forward to brush a hesitant, feather-light kiss across her forehead and slipping from the room before he could see her reaction. Once in the safety of his own bedchambers, he sagged against the wall, shutting his eyes to collect his thoughts.
He clearly had feelings for her, even he couldn’t deny that any longer. Just the thought of those warm doe eyes, that soft skin beneath his fingers, made his heart pound furiously. A strange ache began to spread through his chest, and he let out a soft groan, because he very well knew that his wound was not the only cause of it.
((Yes, he is, I'll be back tomorrow to start it off. Good night!))
(Goodnight :)
(‘Morning)
(Morning!)
A chuckle erupted in the room, deep and velvet smooth.
"Aww, how cute…"
The door that separated their bedchambers closed slowly as Luc pushed it closed. It shut silently. He leaned against the wall, his slightly graying hair in a neat pompadour. One ankle crossed over the other as his steel gray eyes narrowed on Marcus, thick black brows slanting, his handsome smirk a promise of hell-fire.
"The patient…is in love with the Doctor?" He laughed. "And I just came to address the first female…" His eyes drifted to Angeline's sleeping form.
Marcus whirled around, his eyes blazing. “Get out,” he snarled, stepping between Angeline and his uncle. “Now.”
Every single thought had flown out his head and was replaced with pure, burning rage. Winnifred had been pushed the the far corner of his mind, barely present at all in the face of the cruel snake that called himself human. “I don’t care what you’re here for, just leave.”
Luc looked unfazed as he pushed himself off the wall. His gait was lazy and relaxed as he sauntered towards Marcus. He gave a light slap across the cheek. "Hush, child."
He moved passed him and stood at Angeline's side. He ran a hand down her cheek. "You don't want to wake her to your screams now do you? I'm feeling a little antsy…. you've tested my patiences, boy." zhe growled.
Marcus didn’t stop to think. He reached forward and yanked Luc away from Angeline, whirling his uncle around to face him. “Don’t touch her,” he growled. “Fine, let her wake up to my screams. Torture me. Kill me. But don’t touch her.” He swallowed, narrowing his dark eyes. Every trace of warmth in their chocolate depths had dissipated, leaving only cold, harsh anger. “And how did I test your patience? She is my bedslave, you had no right to ravage her.”
Luc lashed out like a viper, gripping Marcus's neck with a vice grip. He growled in warning. "Don't touch me, boy. How dare you!" he spat. He pulled Marcus close and whispered with venomous words. "And then, you lie to me… I let it pass before the girl…because she was happy to be saved by her little prince charming…" Luc tsked. "I broke her walls Marcus, she had never been touched before me…. and my, how she moaned…" He cackled.
Before he knew what he was doing, Marcus had driven his fist into Luc Crenshaw’s face and grabbed his uncle by the shirt collar to shove him against the wall. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Luc took the blow, laughing as blood trickled down the corner of his lip. This little boy thought he was stronger than him? "What, Marcus?" Luc stood and thrusted Marcus's hands away. "You want to try and kill me again? You see how that went for you last time…"
Luc swung his fist, connecting with Marcus's jaw. Slowly, he removed his gloves. "We can do this here…"
Marcus said nothing, only clenched his teeth and flung his own gloves to the side. “Go ahead,” he growled, spying a dagger on the mantle and clenching it in his fist. “I dare you.” Determination burned deep in his chest, along with rage and a hint of fear. His uncle was not getting Angeline.
He shrugged. "Very well."
He charged forward and took Marcus by the hand that wielded the dagger. He drove his knee in to Marcus's ribs, once and then again. He threw him to the ground and stepped on his chest. "C'mon, Marcus. Why must you be so difficult? I just want to discuss a few things with you."
Marcus barely suppressed a cry of pain as he felt his chest wound reopen and blood come gushing out again, staining the front of his shirt. Gritting his teeth and looking his uncle right in the eye, he snarled a reply. “Fine. What do you have to tell me?” Be felt bit shame rise within him, shame that he had been vested so easily. A small part of his mind wondered whether the commotion had awoken either of the girls.
"Good boy." he chuckled. He leaned down and patted Marcus's head. "Now, first and foremost, I need you to never, ever interrupt my fun ever again. Understood?" Luc raised a brow. He pitied Marcus sometimes, the boy couldn't learn that things would not be as they were when his disgusting parents were alive. They hardly cared for him even then.
Marcus stared him straight in those cold, great eyes unflinchingly. “That depends on who you’re having your fun with,” he said through clenched teeth. “You cannot expect me to stand by while you toy with my own bedservant. It would be as if—“ A wicked grin formed on his lips, even through the pain. “It would be as if you found me in bed with that woman- that one that helped kill my parents, the one that you so loved~”
Luc pressed harder on Marcus's chest. "Hush!" He shouted. "Don't you ever speak of her like she is the same as you, she not! You. Are. Beneath. Her." He punctuated every word, digging his heel into his chest. When was the last time he even aloud himself to think about her?
Years…
Luc squared his shoulders. "You don't get to have both, boy. I won't play with your servant…. No, have her. She's nothing compared to the doctor. Oh, yes, she looks delicious~"
(Oh damn)
Marcus let pit a strangled cry of pain, blood seeping through his white shirt, but his wound was not the only reason. Even as the pain nearly blinded him, there were only two things that occupied his mind.
Angeline. Winnifred.
“No!” His voice was hoarse, breaking. “You get neither— you cannot— I will not let you—“ In a fit of desperation, he thrust out his arm, stretching his hand as far as it could go in an attempt reach the fallen dagger.
Luc laughed and took his foot from Marcus's chest. He wasn't getting up anyway. He crossed his hands at his front. "Did she tell you that we have dinner planned tomorrow. What a lovely evening it'll be. I can't wait to undress her and make her scream my name." He smirked. "Maybe she hasn't been touched either…."
Black spots swam across Marcus’s vision, bike rising in his throat. “No!” he yelled— though it was more of a croak— trying his best to wake her.
Angeline was already sitting bolt upright in bed, trembling in fear, practically paralyzed.
“I’ll kill you— I am going to kill you—“
Luc didn't bother to answer Marcus. He looked and bowed mockingly to the girl before leaving, wearing a smile of satisfaction. How splendid it would be, that night. He wondered if Winifred screamed like her aunt, or didn't she claw backs? He bit his lip.
Oh, Lauren… What a wonderful gift you brought me…
(is he actually going to rape Winnifred or is she going to fight back hard enough that he can't?)
Marcus tried to push himself up from his position on the floor, but his hand slipped in something warm and slick– his own blood. "Angeline-" he croaked out, "Are you okay?"
She jumped from the bed, hurrying over to him with pain evident in her eyes from every step she took. "Marcus– oh my god–" Angeline turned to Winnifred's door in a panicked frenzy, flinging it open. "Doctor Winnifred!"
((Oh, she's gonna fight back darling, to. the. death.))
Winifred jumped out of her sleep, her breathing heavy, her eyes half closed. She looked over to the voice she heard, Angeline.
"Angeline, dear, you must rest if you want to get-" her eyes trailed. She could sent something metallic in the air. Was that….blood? She slipped from the bed and approached Angeline. "What's wrong? What happened? Where's-" She gasped.
"Marcus…" His name fell from her lips as her eyes fell upon him. Bleeding on the floor. In pain. A muffled cry broke through her as she covered her mouth and ran to her room. She tore through wrapping of her newly acquired supplies like a ravenous animal.
"Angeline! I need you to get two servants. Those who can lift him. And then get a maid or two. Now!" She yelled, though it sounded more like a sob. She worked frantically, blinking through tears that threatened to break her.
What happened? Had she been asleep that long? What did he do?
(I'm relieved, I'm super attached to her as a reader)
(also, Luc is an ass)
Marcus could barely see, could barely hear, could barely feel anything other than pure pain, fear for Winnifred, and revulsion at his uncle. That, and deep-seated hate.
But one voice cut through it all.
Winnifred.
Angeline was close to tears, and not just from her own pain. "His uncle– his uncle was just in here– I was asleep for most of it– He came to taunt Marcus- threatened to hurt either one of us, things got heated. They began to fight- Luc won, he did something to Marcus's chest- said he was going to rape you after a dinner tomorrow- threatened to kill Marcus–" The words came out of her lips in a tumbled rush.
((To be honest, I have so much in store for Winifred, I love her. And true, Luc is an ass, but he's a cunning ass, and that demands some respect))
Winifred couldn't believe what she was hearing. So she dismissed it. "Just go!" she replied to Angeline. "And hurry! You need to rest as well."
She could hardly see, she was a fast blur of motion as she worked, but she knew what her hands were doing. Grabbing shears, filling bowls of warm water, gathering towels. Soon, she was kneeling at Marcus's side, his blood coating her dress and hands as she cut his shirt away and pressed a towel too the now opened stitches. She relived the horrible day she found him on the bathroom floor, bleeding and hurting, not even willing to let her come near him.
He was in pain now too. Her handsome Lord, hurting… and she wasn't even at the painful part. If only she would've stayed awake… none of this would've happened.
"I'm sorry…. I'm so sorry…" She whispered to him.
(true, but that doesn't make me hate him as a person and love him as a villain any less
also, I love how we've sort of combined two characters to make Luc Crenshaw, my character and Marcus's stepdad, and your character, his uncle)
Angeline could only comply, fearful of getting in the way and disrupting a delicate procedure.
Marcus's eyes fluttered open, and through the black spots he saw the hazy outline of Winnifred. "For what?" he asked weakly, one hundred percent convinced that he was going to pass out from the pain. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, it was a part of him, a part of him that he could no longer run from, and it hurt.
"You-You're wasting your time– you need to run, Winnifred, run while you can–"
Winifred growled in frustration. Why was he trying to stop her? Why was he trying to distract her from what she needed to do?
"S-shut up!" She whispered fiercely . "Marcus Crenshaw I need you to be quiet!" She couldn't take the sound of his voice, not now.
She directed the butlers to move him to the bed. The maids prepared her things as she washed her hands and slipped on a clean pair of gloves. She removed her surgical kit, the one that arrived in the post just that afternoon. "This is not how I wanted to use this…" she grumbled.
She turned her gaze to Marcus. This is the last person I wanted to use this on. But she set to work dutifully, cleaning as much blood as she could away and removing the torn stitches. They were useless now and would need to be replaced. She dabbed his skin with cleansing alcohol, telling the butlers to brace his shoulders and keep him from moving until she was finished. All the while she grumbled to herself.
"Stupid bastard…. Stupid pompous brat…"
