His kiss left her lips tingling from the sudden intense pressure. It wasn’t the sort of kiss that said ‘I love you’, but rather one that staked a claim meant to be remembered. Oscar had started out softly, but Elsie knew he didn’t mean to impart tenderness. That was an emotion she rarely felt from her husband. Affection was a tool, or for public display. He’d made that very clear from the day they’d met. Just another attribute her mother waved off as being particular of powerful men. He’d held her face after helped her tame her hair and it was a need to know he loved her that had her tilting her head into his large hand.<br/><br/><i>“Fickle creatures when they wanted to be, but men like him know what they want. Don’t be the only woman to ask for more than he is willing to give.”</i>The older woman had had no shortage of advice for her unruly daughter on her wedding day. Most likely, she was just relieved that a man of his standing had asked for her hand before the girl got herself into real, permanent trouble.<br/><br/>It was taking time, but Elsie was trying to learn what he wanted. His anger swelled when she only expected mild annoyance and Oscar was almost always annoyed with her. Even in their bed she often felt as if she was a let down. But she tried, time and time again, seeking perfection for him.<br/><br/>When he mentioned Anthony, and the prospect of negotiating for her release, Elsie’s eyes went wide with surprise and disbelief. She didn’t need to say anything for him to know she’d be forever thankful. Yet, she wasn’t going to further the mornings downward spiral by outright asking for such help. Any possibility of conditions applied to her for the service were of no thought.<br/><br/>Before he left, she could only offer him a nod. Assurance that she wouldn’t humiliate him in public as she had in their own home. Instead of focusing on the convention and her speech, she’d set to the task of choosing their evening outfits and perching herself on her husband’s arm as nothing more than a pretty little thing to use to drive in business. She could play that game, no matter how much she loathed it.<br/><br/>Elsie sunk into the nearest chair when she knew Oscar had exited their home. The corset under her dress felt suffocating and she couldn’t even bring herself to drink the coffee that had been delicately set on the table for her.<br/><br/>“Ella!” Her voice was shaky, just like her hands and she clenched them momentarily on the tabletop in an attempt to quell her nerves. The girl appeared in the doorway, hesitating before fully entering.<br/><br/>“Yes, Ma’am?”<br/><br/>“Could you please fetch me ink and paper and have Verna meet me in my rooms?” She propped her head in her hands, fingers rubbing at her temples as if she could force out everything she was currently feeling. The sensation of being trapped was paramount among the flood - Oscar had assured that.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">———​</div><br/>Oscar’s clothes had been carefully laid over the massive four-poster bed that punctuated the bedroom that had been labeled as Elizabeth’s. In truth, they were simply glorified dressing rooms now since her husband insisted she share his bed every night. At first she had thought it endearing that he had wanted to be so close to her each night, but the truth of his nature became known rather quickly - an appetite Elsie didn’t think she was capable of sating, no matter how she tried.<br/><br/>“Maybe if you wore a gown in his favorite color?” Verna was busy shuffling through piles of dresses and endless fabrics that now consumed the room.<br/><br/>While Elsie felt as if something lacked in her life, if certainly was the absence of fine clothes and jewelry. Oscar showered her with them, and denied them sometimes when she slipped up. It was only now dawning in her.<br/><br/>“Would you happen to know what his favorite color is?” She asked, sad eyes settling on the other girl.<br/><br/>Verna offered a forced smile and shook her head. “No.” She sifted through a different pile, finally tugging out a deep blue satin made of satin and velvet. “My vote goes for this one.” She announced happily. “It goes perfectly with the blue in his best and the French design is just so magnificent on you.”<br/><br/>Elsie stood, admiring the item and silently agreeing. “He’ll either commend me for trying to make him happy with this choice, or reprimand me for not being more modest in public.”<br/><br/>The other was obviously deep in thought before she quickly laid the dress on the bed and disappeared. She returned with a white fur stole and a bright grin on her face. “When your coat is taken, keep this on. Not only is it gorgeous,” she let the white fur adoringly, “but, you can cover your shoulders and such if he isn’t happy with the dress choice.”<br/><br/>“I guess that seals it.”<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">———​</div><br/>Oscar’s clothing had been delivered to him, under the assumption that he wouldn’t be able to make it home in time. Attached was a note that stated which of the multitude of gowns he had purchased for her would be on public display tonight.<br/><br/>Scrawled in her delicate, feminine cursive, the note said:<br/><br/>I chose the navy Worth gown, to match the blue in your suit vest. All my love, Elsie<br/><br/>Simple and to the point while including all the requested information as well the expected notion of her love.<br/><br/>Verna and another maid tended to her hair, perfected her subtle makeup and helped her dress. The gown was a masterpiece created just for her by the haute couture designer House of Worth. It fit her like a glove, tight and slim in the waist, flaring out into layers of satin and velvet so dark the blue could appear black in some lighting. The bodice left little to the imagination but still maintained enough modesty to be proper, albeit very obviously French in design.<br/><br/>“He’d be mad to be upset with you while wearing this.” Verna settled the fur stole across Elsie’s shoulders and handed her short navy blue lace gloves. Around her neck was a necklace of diamonds and sapphires that matched the sapphire earrings that hung from her earlobes. With a final assessment of her hair, the lady of the house stepped out to meet the carriage the waited for her. By her calculation, she would be a few minutes early.<br/><br/>Nothing had calmed her nerves, or her disappointment at being forced to set aside her own plans. That’s what married women did for their husbands, right? Surely her absence would be forgiven.