In the Land of the Long White Cloud

bugger like they whisper in the stables? Oh yes, they whisper, Lucas! Little Johnny Oates claims you’re making eyes at him. He can hardly keep you off him…is that true?”
    Gerald raged at his son.
    Lucas’s face went beet red. “I don’t make eyes at anyone,” he whispered. At least he had not done so intentionally. Could it be that those men had caught a whiff of his most secret, sinful thoughts?
    Gerald spat before turning his attention to Gwyneira.
    “And you—my prude little princess. Don’t you know how to get him going? But you know how to turn a fellow on. I still think often of Wales, how you would look at me…a li’l hussy, I thought, such a shame for an ol’ aristocrat in England…she needs a real man. And in the stables they make eyes at you, princess. All the boys’re infatuatedwith you. Did you know that? You encourage ’em, eh? But you’re cold as ice to your genteel husband.”
    Gwyneira sank deeper into her chair. The burning gaze of the old man shamed her. She wished she had put on a more conservative dress. Gerald’s gaze wandered from her pale face to her neckline. If he looked closely, he might notice…
    “And what’s this?” he intoned scornfully. “Not wearing a corset today, princess? Are you hoping that a real man’ll come by when your limp dick husband is lying in his bed?”
    Gwyneira leaped up as Gerald reached for her. Instinctively she backed away. Gerald followed her.
    “Aha, when you see a real man, you run away. I thought as much…lady! You’re making me beg. But a real man don’t give up.”
    Gerald lunged for her bodice. Gwyneira stumbled as he pressed into her. Lucas threw himself between them.
    “Father, you forget yourself!”
    “Huh? I forget myself? No, my dear boy.” The old man struck Lucas with a hard blow to the chest. Lucas did not dare strike back. “I was out of my mind when I bought this thoroughbred pony here for you. Such a shame for you, such a shame…shoulda took ’er straightaway for myself. Then I’d have a stable full o’ heirs.”
    Gerald bent over Gwyneira, who had fallen back into her chair. She tried to stand up and flee, but he knocked her to the ground with one blow and was on top of her before she could sit up.
    “Now I’ll show you two,” Gerald wheezed. He was three sheets to the wind, and his words failed him, but not his strength. Gwyneira saw the naked lust in his eyes.
    In a state of panic, she tried to remember. What had happened in Wales? Had she provoked him? Had he always felt that way about her, and had she only been too blind to see it?
    “Father…” Lucas seized him halfheartedly from behind, but Gerald’s fist was faster. Drunk or not, his blows struck true. Lucas was knocked back and lost consciousness for several seconds. Gerald tore his pants open. Gwyneira heard Cleo barking on the terrace. The dog was scratching on the door in alarm.
    “Now I’ll show you how, princess…now I’ll show you what it’s like.”
    Gwyneira whimpered as he ripped apart her dress, shredded her silk underwear, and brutally thrust himself into her. She smelled whiskey, sweat, and the sauce that had been spilled on his shirt, and was overcome with disgust. She saw hate and triumph in Gerald’s glowing evil eyes. With one hand he held her down; with the other he kneaded her breasts as he kissed her neck greedily. She bit him when he tried to shove his tongue down her throat. After the initial shock, she began to fight back, defending herself so desperately that he seized both her hands in order to hold her down. But still he kept thrusting into her. The pain was all but unbearable. Now she knew what Helen had meant, and she clung to her friend’s words: “At least it’s over quickly.”
    Despairing, Gwyneira held still, listening to the drumming outside and to Cleo’s hysterical barking. Hopefully she wouldn’t attempt to jump over the half door. Gwyneira forced herself to remain calm. It had to be over soon.
    Gerald noticed her resignation and took it for consent. “Now…you like that, eh, princess?” he wheezed, thrusting harder. “Now you like it! Can’t even…get enough, eh? It’s different…a real man, like me, eh?”
    Gwyneira did not have the strength to curse him. The pain and humiliation seemed to have no end. Seconds stretched into hours. Gerald moaned, wheezed, and spewed incomprehensible words that merged with the drumming and barking in a deafening cacophony. Gwyneira could not even have