Free Ecstasy by Irvine Welsh Page A

the face of his friend, but the odd look of compassion and pity that convinced him some terrible deed had been perpetrated. Harcourt, though, demonstrated no such compassion. His shoulders began to shake and a giggling sound vibrated from his bulky frame
.
    – You … Denby rose and shouted, – Damn your eyes … if anything has happened to my Flossie I swear by God … he broke off and stormed into the kitchens
.
    He saw the terrified face of the cook, Mrs Hurst, just as he came across the head of his beloved sheep, Flossie, decapitated and staring at him from the kitchen table with what he thought was a look of sadness and recrimination
.
    He buckled as if from the impact of a blow, then quickly straightened and advanced towards the shivering old woman
.
    – Damn you, you evil witch! I’ll consign your scrawny body to the grave and your twisted soul to hell!
    – This was not my work, Sir! the woman screamed
.
    – Who sanctioned this sick, criminal butchery? Denby roared
.
    – It were the young mistress, Sir, Miss Lorraine, it were her that told I to do this …
    – LIAR! Denby screamed, reaching for a meat cleaver on the table
.
    Lorraine stood in the doorway. – My Lord, if you are to wreak vengance, vent your spleen on me. For it is true, it was I who sanctioned this!
    Denby looked at his ward. As his eyes met hers he could fathom no duplicity, only an unerring devotion in the beautiful young woman, who had, indeed, since the departure of his wife, unstintingly taken on the mantle of mistress of the hall. It had the effect of squeezing the anger from him like the juice from an orange. – But Lorraine, my sweet, tender blossom of wild Scotch heather … how could you do such an unspeakably vile thing!
    Lorraine turned away, and let the tears run from her eyes. Then she turned back to Denby. – I beg you, my Lord, believe me that I surely had to! The relationship between my beloved Earl and this unfortunate beast of the fields was making him the laughing-stock of society …
    – But …
    – … there was even talk of the corrosive power of syphilis on the faculties of his Lordship. You were, noble Sir, being steadfastly undermined by this scurrilous chatter, the idle banter of fools and reprobates, granted, yet still serving the foulest and most despicable of purposes …
    – I did not realise … I had no idea …
    – No, Sir, you did not, so bewitched by a spell of evil were you, so torn by heartbreak that the devil got into you while your defences were devastated by the loss of your darling wife. But that sheep is no replacement … only a woman can love a man, Sir, this I contend
.
    Denby let a smile play across his lips as he studied this enchanting young creature fondly. – And what, my little darling, would you know of love?
    – Alas, Sir, I too harbour my passions, passions which burn all the more sorely for being so guarded …
    – A pretty, innocent young thing like you? Denby said. Yet so devious, he thought
.
    – Even in a world so warped by the madness of men as our own, my good Lord, I cannot bring myself to regard trickery, subterfuge, manipulation and seduction as the legitimate behaviour of a young woman, let alone one preparing to take up her place in society, but these concerns of morality are always tempered by passions … grand passions which justify anything!
    – You’ve fallen for Marcus Cox! Lorraine, I will have you know that the dashing blood commands my utmost respect as a soldier and a friend and, moreover, in his vagabond ways I see echoes of a younger self. This is why I could never consent to such a liaison with a ward of mine. Cox is a wild stallion whose entire
raison d’être
is to win the hearts, and thus the virtue, of innocent maidens, then discard them ruthlessly in pursuit of the next prey!
    – No, Sir, you may rest assured on the matter of Marcus Cox. Charming and dashing though he may be, Marcus is not the one who has captured my heart … you are, my Lord.