Corben's Thirst: The Thirst Within Part 1.5 by Johi Jenkins Read Free Book Online Page A

Charlotte had been nothing but her sweet self towards Madeleine. When we had first seen my brother and sister-in-law immediately after our wedding, Charlotte had addressed her as “Mrs. Ashby” as was her custom. But Madeleine had replied with a casual, “ Please, sweet child. You are now as much of a Mrs. Ashby as I am. We are sisters. Call me Madeleine .”
    In the early days of my marriage I had always been on edge whenever Thierry visited, thinking his wife would try to injure my happiness. However, more than a year had passed since that awful scene in Garfield Park, when Madeleine had brought up our affair in the baron’s conservatory. In the course of a year, we had seen each other a few times, when she and Thierry visited my parents. I had generally tried to avoid her, but when I had to talk to her, I addressed her as I used to, informally, warmly. It was tricky, because I had to be indifferent towards her so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea, but in front of Thierry and Charlotte I couldn’t treat her with coldness. They might have suspected something was off.
    But she had never brought up the subject again. We had remained friends. I had good reason to believe that she had finally put the past behind her, now that I was married. That my secret was safe.
    Time had made me carefree, and I saw no reason to think that this visit would be any different.
    Except that everything was different.
     
    ***
     
    “Charlotte sends her apologies tonight. She wishes to be excused from dinner, as she is not feeling rather well.”
    Exclamations of pain and well-wishes followed my lie. Family dinners were complicated, as Charlotte didn’t eat regular food anymore. She would refuse most of the invitations she received, but every once in a while she had to attend one, to prevent suspicion. She couldn’t pretend to be sick the rest of her life, after all. When she dined in front of others, she ate very little, and then threw up everything afterwards. She hated doing that, so she tried to excuse herself most of the times.
    On one such declined invitation to dine at Brunsfield with our families, I had gone to the Great House alone. After dinner, while the ladies were preparing for tea, I was in the washroom when someone entered quietly behind me. I turned around to see Madeleine, a somber look on her face.
    “Madeleine,” I said, not quite as coldly as I should have; her presence didn’t trouble me as it used to. “I am almost done—give me leave to finish washing my hands.”
    “I would speak to you for a moment, if you do not object,” she said, and continued without allowing me to say whether I objected or not. “I wish to congratulate you, Corben. Your happiness is clear.”
    “I am—thank you.”
    Then her nose turned red and her voice broke. “I am not—I cannot be happy with Thierry.” Then she fully broke down and cried.
    I just stared at her, at a loss for words. That they weren’t happy in their marriage wasn’t a secret. It caused me pain for both of them—but what did she wish to attain by telling me this? It was their issue.
    She came to me and threw her arms around me, sobbing against my chest. I hesitantly put my arms around her, not wishing to engage her emotions, but not able to push her away when she was clearly in distress.
    “Madeleine—”
    But she didn’t even let me begin, and reached up and locked her lips around mine.
    And at that horrible moment, before I could even push her away, the door opened and Thierry stood before us.
    I turned my face away from Madeleine and locked eyes with my brother—and saw how his expression changed from surprise to confusion.
    “Thierry,” I whispered, pulling away from Madeleine, unable to do anything else.
    “What is the meaning of his?” he cried.
    He took two steps towards me, where I stood frozen with my hands at his wife’s shoulders. He grabbed one of her arms and pulled her away brusquely. “Madeleine?”
    “I cannot stand it anymore!” she