Chapter 22: Matrimonial Bliss

Lady Snape did not care for Spinner's End. Though it was quite fashionable to own an ancestral home in the country, residing there for more than a month or so at a time was not. Victoria despised the country gentry and would not allow herself to venture into their ranks nor realm. Following the dowager Lady Snape's last living years, Victoria vowed never to return to Spinner's End unless it was absolutely necessary to do so. She had considered herself quite lucky that the occasion had never arisen. However, Victoria found that she could no longer ignore whatever intrigue her husband was wrapped up in.

Whatever Lord Snape may believe, his wife was neither blind nor stupid. For the past few months she had begun to suspect that something was amiss. At first she had merely assumed that it was connected to his mistress—not that she minded the idea of her husband's unfaithfulness—but then began the clandestine meetings with a man from Bowstreet and the frequent meetings with his solicitor. Her initial fear was that Severus was low on funds, but that would hardly make sense with all of the business dealings he had with the earl. No, this was something else entirely. But what could bring her stoic husband to action like this? After meeting with much disappointment in snooping around in London, Victoria decided that she must travel to Spinner's End to find that answer. However she found that her husband had not returned as planned.

For three days, Victoria sequestered herself in the opulent lady's suite of the house. She said little to the staff directly aside from her maid, Sophie, who had begun the arduous task of finding out what was being said bellow stairs. The servants of Spinner's End were a loyal lot, through and through. They said very little of anything in front of the lady's maid at first. Lord Snape was a fair master; he was neither overtly kind nor cruel. He rewarded hard work and efficiency with pay that was almost unheard of among their peers, but he would dismiss anyone he did not find to his standards. Servants who gossiped were usually sent packing with surprising speed. Not even the lowest chamber maid would dare to speak aught of the household goings on with anyone she did not completely trust. No matter how skilled Sophie was at getting bits of information, she could not break into the inner circle at Spinner's End. This, Victoria decided, would take a slightly more skewed approach.

On the fourth day of her stay, she asked that Mrs. Figg meet her for tea in one of the less formal parlors. The housekeeper was a source of general annoyance for Victoria. When she had first married, she had thought to charm the old woman into keeping tabs on her husband for her, but she had soon found out that Mrs. Figg's loyalty lay with her surly master. Victoria had summarily ignored Mrs. Figg as she had all things in Spinner's End. The fact that she needed the old hag now galled Victoria more than she was willing to admit. As she poured the tea for both of them, Victoria was quite careful not to let her smile slip from her lips.

"I must say that it is good to have you in the house again, my lady," Mrs. Figg said as she accepted the cup.

"It's lovely to be back. I do so love the country," Victoria lied. "The London house is so poorly run that it requires almost all of my attention. It is so good to return to such a well managed home. My husband sings your praises every time he comes to town."

Mrs. Figg smiled. It was hard to tell if she believed Victoria or not, but she didn't dare gainsay the lady. "Words of praise from a man who says so very little are such an honor."

"I must say that you have handled all of the recent chaos with grace," the lady commented casually. "Have the servants managed to hold their tongues?"

"Admirably," the housekeeper confirmed curtly.

Victoria bristled. Couldn't the woman say anything useful? "What arrangements have been made?"

Mrs. Figg raised a gray brow. "Why, my lady, we have done exactly what the lord asked of us."

"I'm sure you have," Victoria agreed smoothly. "I only wish to check up on things a bit. After all, things were becoming a tad messy."

That seemed to shake the old woman. Mrs. Figg frowned. "Oh, dear."

"Indeed," the lady intoned somberly. "I merely wish to help. I hate to see my husband run himself ragged when there is no need."

"Perhaps it's best, lady, that you speak with him directly. My old mind boggles at all of the twists and turns of this story. I'm afraid, I am not the one who should tell it to you," Mrs. Figg said softly.

Victoria glared at the old woman. "What makes you think I don't already know?"

"Perhaps you do, but I have sworn not to tell a soul. Lord Snape's trust is not a thing to be trifled with." Mrs. Figg stood and began clearing the tray. "It was lovely of you to invite me to tea, my lady."

"You insolent, old cow! Do you really think I will allow you to talk to me in such a manner?" Victoria spat. "I want you out of this house. I don't ever want to see your face again."

Only furthering the lady's rage, Mrs. Figg merely smiled. "I will pack my bags then."

Severus leaned his head against the frame of the carriage. He had never enjoyed travel, and being crammed in alongside four other adults made it even less pleasant. His side ached fiercely, and his body was stiff. The other occupants of the conveyance seemed equally as uncomfortable, but no one dared voice such complaints or said much of anything—save Harry. The boy's hands had been in constant motion for the past hour. He had questions about every single farmhouse, animal, and blade of grass they passed. Mr. Weasley answered most of them with good natured replies. As the hours passed however, Harry's inquiries tapered off. The boy, to the silent relief of all, drifted off to sleep.

Hermione's gaze moved from her charge to the lord. "He is so happy to be going home," she commented.

Severus snorted. "To my home, you mean?"

Beside him Daniel chuckled, and Hermione rolled her eyes. It seemed that the pretense of not wanting the boy was no longer believable. Severus wasn't all together certain what to think of that, but he didn't argue. He could see a pointless battle in front of him.

They arrived at Spinner's End in the early afternoon. Severus had to contain the sigh of relief he felt when his home was finally in sight. If it were possible to do so, he doubted he would ever leave it again. He had spent too long in London. However, Severus' relief was short lived as he spotted a hired carriage being loaded up and Mrs. Figg standing beside it in traveling clothes. As soon as his own carriage pulled to a stop, Severus climbed out without so much as a word to his companions.

"What is the meaning of this, Mrs. Figg?" he demanded impatiently.

The matron smiled sadly. "Your wife has sacked me, I'm afraid."

Rage filled the lord's dark eyes. "My wife is here?"

Mrs. Figg nodded. "And demanding to know what is going on with Harry. I kept my silence, my lord, and it angered her enough to send me packing. Not that I would have told her anything, even had I known."

"Unpack immediately. Have the other servants see to my guests," Severus commanded curtly. "I will deal with my wife."

Severus' blood flowed like magma through his veins as he searched room by room for Victoria. He could have asked where the lady was, but it seemed best to take his time. At present, he feared he would beat the little viper within an inch of her life. How dare she stroll into his home and ask questions of him? Worse, how dare she meddle with his staff? They led separate lives—that was how they both preferred it—why the devil did she feel the need to invade now? He found her in the small parlor that lead to the garden.

Stretched out on a chaise with a book in hand, Victoria was quite unaware of just how angry her husband truly was. She lowered the book slowly and marked her page. "Why, Severus, I was beginning to worry about you," she said lightly.

"I want you gone from here within the hour, not a second more. I never want to see your face within these walls again. Disobey me and I shall see to it that you spend the remainder of your days in some god forsaken convent in Scotland," Severus seethed through his clenched teeth. His hands went numb from how tightly he held them.

Victoria merely smiled prettily. "Is that any way to greet your wife?"

Severus snarled. "Are you too thick to realize that you are not wanted here?"

"I have always known you didn't want me, Severus. How could I not when you haven't bedded me in nearly a decade? I tire of being treated like some cast off relative," she spat, finally raising her voice. "I demand to know what you have been up to! You are involved in something, I just know it."

"You demand? You demand, you little bitch? You have no right to demand anything of me. I am your husband!"

"Of course, no right. I am no more to you than a piece of property. You are a heartless, arrogant man, Severus Snape. It's no wonder that even your own mother despised you!"

For a split second, Severus wasn't exactly sure what happened next. The world around him ran white, and he was fairly certain that he had stopped breathing. His hand had moved almost on instinct. The sheer force of the slap nearly knocked Victoria from her feet. As his wife raised her finger tips to her already reddening cheek, the full weight of what Severus had just done fell upon him. Vicious as she was, Victoria was still a woman, she was still his wife. Never in his life had Severus abused someone weaker than himself before in such a reprehensible manner. Before he could say a word, Victoria turned on her heel and left. There were no hysterics nor a word of anger. She simply walked away to leave him with his guilt. Severus buried his head in his hands and sank into the chaise.

Severus sat there for a long time. By the time he moved, he had a plan.