I flush at the thought, wondering if she chose the color for that reason.
“Good evening, Alfred,” she says in a low, even voice.
“Good evening,” I echo.
She has an inscrutable look upon her face. I wonder why she does not immediately rise as she did last Sunday and bring me to her rooms.
Instead, she appraises me for a moment.
“How are you, Alfred?”
“I am well. I am—” I break off. I am unsure of how honest I should be. “I am pleased to be here. With you.”
“You shouldn’t be. I wanted to make it clear to you. In fact.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You seem to think that I am doing you a favor in debauching you. That I am being generous.”
“It is hard to feel otherwise, Annabelle. When you are generous with me.”
“No,” she says. “Everything I do with you is for my own pleasure. Do not trust me. Do not think that I have a special regard for you and do not develop one for me. I tell you this for your own protection. As a warning. I do not think you are a bad man, Alfred. Only a naïve one.”
I blush, just as I did that first day at tea with her. Once more, I feel embarrassed.
“I never said otherwise,” I manage. “Of course I do not imagine you strive to please me.”
“No, I do not. I am using you, Alfred. Most cruelly. I am making you faithless to your religion, your profession,your family. Do not become confused about who I am to you.”
I nod. I cannot begin to explain to her the evolution of my feelings. The way that I suspect that my faith, that God, does not require from me what I have sacrificed for so long.
“I understand.”
She does not look content.
“Do you no longer fear for your soul? Are you not disgraced and horrified by what I have made you?”
I sense that she wants me to say yes. Strangely, I think she wants me to avow her status as a villain.
“I enjoy the pleasure you give me, Annabelle. I am a man, although I am also a vicar. I am depraved, surely. I am disgraced, surely. And I am at your mercy. But what am I to do if I enjoy being ruined? Would you rather I not enjoy it?”
She raises her chin. “I do not care about your feelings, Alfred. I am merely giving you a warning.”
I cannot help but smile.
“Consider me warned.”
She gives me a look of disapproval.
And I wonder if she will dismiss me. For the first time this evening, I am truly alarmed.
But she doesn’t.
She rises.
“Come,” she beckons.
Once more I follow her through the august rooms and up the staircase.
