"Delicious," Millicent's father said and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "You're a little cooking genius, just as your mother."
"Thank you, dad," she answered and gave him a smile.
"So," he went on and looked to Arthur. "Six months married, aye?"
"Aye."
"Did she try to ... leave ... since you took her back?" James asked casually, but Millicent noticed that he watched Arthur closely.
"No."
"I'm glad to hear this, Arthur. So, how much time since your last ... menses, Millie?" James Coates asked with lifted eyebrows, and helped himself to more potatoes.
"Dad!" Millicent gasped, and even her mother looked shocked, but didn't dare to say something.
"Just a simple question, and there's no need to play the lady. I gave you Arthur for a reason, you didn't marry him out of love, if I remember correctly. Would you mind answering my question, dear?"
"I do mind, yes. I won't answer." Millicent said, without trying to hide the anger in her voice.
"Arthur?" James Coates said. "Does she give you trouble? Especially regarding her duties?"
Millicent stared on her plate, feeling like a piece of property, like a breeding cattle. She wanted to cry, out of anger and frustration but she wouldn't allow her father to see her tears. Arthur didn't answer immediately, he placed his fork on the table and took her hand in his.
"If she gives you trouble or defies you, I recommend the belt." James advised with a small, maleficent smile.
Arthur cleared his throat and Millicent saw, in the corner of her eyes, murder in his face. He didn't like these questions, too, and he hated being patronized.
"With due respect, James, but this is none of your business. Millie is my responsibility, my wife, and our marital life concerns only Millie and me. I do not discuss the details of our marriage with anybody. Neither does she."
Not anymore, Millicent thought, thinking about the column. Thankfully her father didn't know about her short, but successful writing career. They'd only told him that Millicent had thrown a tantrum, insulted Arthur and left.
"I need an heir, just as the Shelby family does. My eldest daughter decided to leave the family and lives with another woman in bloody Berlin. She refuses stubbornly to marry a man and have children. She's in love with this woman, she tells me over and over. Fucking bullshit!" James took a deep breath to calm himself down, before he went on: "The second eldest is widowed, without any children and her body seems to be too weak to deliver a child. The youngest one had that terrible accident as a child and isn't able to have any children at all. So it's on Millie to give us what the family needs and I'm losing my fucking patience right now! Even if Elizabeth failed in giving me a few strong sons, she gave birth to our first child a month previous to our first wedding anniversary!"
"Maybe Katie could run your business once you're retiring," Millicent suggested, although she knew she was skating on very thin ice.
"Women are not able to run a business. You're talking perfect nonsense," James barked and Arthur shook his head: "They are able. While we were in the war, Aunt Polly ran our business and raised our little brother. Both, she handled very well."
"Maybe there are one or two women clever enough. But Katie isn't. She needs to marry again and try to conceive a child. I need her if you two fail on such a simple task like producing an heir." James Coates straightened his tie, then his fist slammed on the table, making all the plates jump. "So, answer, Millicent, or I'm gonna deliver the discipline your husband doesn't seem to be capable of! How much time since your last menses? Do you fulfill your duties or not?"
"James," her mother whispered, "think of your heart."
Millicent looked to Arthur because he nearly squashed her hand, his anger so clearly visible that she would be scared to death on her father's stead.
"I'm gonna answer these questions. This time. We will never talk about this topic again. Do I make myself clear?" Arthur growled.
"We'll see," James answered snarky. "So?"
"Two weeks ago. Millie fulfills her duties to my utter satisfaction." Arthur said in a tight voice.
"How often?"
"What?"
"How often does she fulfill her duties? Once a month is more a game of luck than a plan. You know what I mean, right?" James shrugged and cleared his plate.
Arthur closed his eyes for a second: "Every night."
"So, my little one is a good girl, aye?" James grinned and Millicent thought about throwing up, right there on the table. "Maybe the problem's on you? You shouldn't drink. No snow or opium until ... our efforts were a success."
Arthur let go of her hand and took a deep breath: "Out."
"Beg your pardon?" James asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Lunch is hereby over. Get out."
She noticed the change, the felt the monster crawling at the surface. He was so close to snap and kill her father, that she could nearly hear the gunshot, nearly see the hole in the bridge of her father's nose, just like in Uncle Alban's face on her damn wedding day.
"Arthur!" Millicent whispered. "No, please ..."
"James embarrasses you. He affronts me. In my own fucking house. I'm not going to tolerate this anymore. I'm sorry, Elizabeth, it's not your fault."
Millicent's mother nodded, but kept her head bowed. James stood up, straightening his back.
"You throw us out?" He asked, his face blank.
"Aye."
"That's good, son. Shows me you're able to stand up for your rights. Good boy!" James chuckled and reached out for his wife: "Thank you for the wonderful lunch and your invitation. Next Sunday, same time, at our home."
"Was this an offer?" Arthur asked and James shook his head: "No. A fact."
"We won't come."
"Oh, come on, Arthur! I'm sure we'll get along great!"
"No." The look on his face was scaring and Millicent prayed that his anger would spare her. "I would like to have a word in private, James."
"Alright, son."
Arthur nodded and stood up: "Follow me."
"Arthur ...!" Millicent hissed. "Don't, please ..."
"It's alright, Millie. We just ... need to talk," Arthur answered and guided her father out of the dining room.
The door closed and her mother cleared her throat, lifting her head: "How are you, Millie?"
"I'm fine, mum, thanks."
"Your father is ...," she started, but Millie lifted her hand: "I know him well enough, there's no need for you excusing him."
Elizabeth nodded and said reluctantly: "You know, there must be love to ... conceive a child."
"That's not true, mum, and you know this. A thousand whores a year conceive without being in love with their suitors. You conceived at least seven times without loving your husband. You fear him, as everyone fears him, and nonetheless you gave birth to seven children. Maybe it's more bearable when there's love, but love isn't required to be with child."
"Does he treat you well? Do you fear him?" Elizabeth whispered and looked to the door, to make sure to quit the conservation as soon as she heard footsteps.
"He treats me very well. I don't fear him." Not anymore, not since she gave up fighting in her home. "Maybe you should leave daddy. I could ask Arthur for money for a passage to Hamburg and a ticket to Berlin. You could live with Anna and Franziska."
"Your father will come after me and kill me, if I ever leave him. And when he's in Berlin already, he will take the chance to kill Anna too. He'll never forgive her escape. You know that, Millie." The voice of her mother went even lower and she leant over the table to be heard. "At that time he made the deal with the Shelby's, regarding your marriage, I'd got reservations. I'd heard all the rumours about Arthur Shelby and I ... feared for my little Millie. But then, after a few weeks, I thought that it would need a man like Arthur Shelby to ... to keep you safe from your father. He told me, if you ever run away from your husband again, he's gonna kill you. He needs the money the Shelby's paid for you. Be careful, sweetheart, and do whatever you can to make him love you. You're lost without him."
Millicent returned the little, sad smile her mother gave her and nodded as her mother put a finger on her lips because she heard the footsteps. Millicent stood still at her place until her father and Arthur entered the room.
"Elizabeth?" James said prompting and her mother stood up, mumbling thanks for the lunch. "Have a good day."
Arthur nodded and accompanied her parents to the front door.
"I ... don't know what to say," Millicent said and fumbled nervously with her skirt when he came back. "I'm ... I guess he's having a very bad day and ..."
"Your father's an arsehole, Millie. I know him for years. It's not your fault. I talked to him and I guess I made myself clear. He won't ask again."
The room fell silent and she started to clean the table, while Arthur took a seat and lit a cigarette.
"He was right, by the way." Arthur said calmly after smoking half of the cigarette and Millicent froze: "Right with what?"
"The lunch was delicious. Thank you, darling."
"Oh," Millicent took a deep, relieved breath and gave him a smile: "Thank you."
"You good?"
"Aye. Arthur?"
"Mhm?"
"I ... you bought condoms, right? I found a box in one of your pants when I did the laundry."
"Oh, yeah, I did. Where did you ... store them?" Arthur asked and took a last pull of the cigarette.
"In your bedside table. You said ... you don't like using condoms. So ...?"
"You want to know why I bought them?"
Millicent nodded, watching him closely.
"Condoms are not perfectly safe, but ... pulling out is even more risky. And we agreed on ... enjoying each other a little bit longer before starting a family, right? Or did you change your mind?"
"Daddy will be furious if he ever finds out," Millicent said thoughtfully, but then she smiled: "No, I didn't change my mind, Arthur. Thank you for ... caring."
"I'm putty in your hands, Millie."
"As I'm in yours. Do you want your dessert?"
"Is this a flippant offer or do we speak about milk pudding or some cake?" Arthur grinned and pulled her on his lap.
"We speak about cake. I'm not one for flippant offers."
"But I am. Flippant offer first, cake afterwards, when we're hungry again."
Arthur stood up and carried her to bedroom, which made her laugh. He threw her on the bed and crawled over her, hunger and amusement in his eyes. For a moment she thought about her mother and the arranged marriage she lived in, one without laughter and enjoying each other. Then Arthur kissed her and she concentrated on the kiss.
"Arthur?" She asked while he opened her blouse and his shirt at the same time.
"Mhm?"
"I need money."
"Money? How much and for what?"
"For a journey to Berlin. For my mother."
Arthur stopped in the motion, giving her a questioning look.
"Your father will kill your mother, your sister, you and me if we help your mother to escape."
Millicent nodded, knowing he was right. She was already naked when she spoke again: "Why did he give me to you, Arthur?"
"Can't you guess, darling?"
"Because of business and ... because he thought you'd be like him. Cruel and strict and merciless, a brute, keeping his daughter in line. Right?"
"Right."
"But he was wrong, was he?"
"No. Basically he's right. But we never had love on the bill. I never thought I would be putty in your hands, from the second I laid eyes on you."
"I'm glad you are putty in my hands, Arthur," she smiled and pulled him down for a kiss.
"Me too." He answered. "Feels so good."