honeydew, blueberry yoghurt and a rhubarb treat!
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: Tranquillise
Rating: G/PG
Challenge: Honeydew #4: abduction, Blueberry Yoghurt #27: a misunderstanding, Rhubarb ‘My Treat’ #25: you haven’t changed a bit (Verity comes to the future)
Toppings/Extras: none
Wordcount: 685
Summary: Lady Verity Ashdown is brought to the future, to nobody’s dismay but Newson’s.
Notes: I just had to begin on Marina’s Treat for me. Instantly. So here we go!
“Better knuckle down and do what I say, Ashdown... I’ve got you a little present from the past,” Newson said with a smirk, and leaned backwards. “Bring her in, Walshe.”
Perhaps he was underestimating the man, but Newson was expecting something of a reaction from Ashdown when his gorgeous wife was wrestled into the room. There was a faint flutter of surprise that crossed his features, but it disappeared quickly: the rest was indifference.
Verity Ashdown had her dainty wrists shackled and was being held in place by an uncomfortable-looking Robyn Walshe. The instant she spied her husband, her eyes swirled with rage.
“I knew this was to do with you!” she spat at him. “What have you done now? Do you know they came into our bedchamber? Disgusting!”
Her raging went unheeded.
“I’m surprised you managed it, Miss Walshe,” Ashdown said, stroking his clean-shaven chin.
“We had to tranquillise her,” Robyn replied wearily.
“You had better tell me right now what’s going on here, you utter bastard! Where are we? My brother is going to kick your head down your neck when he...”
“Don’t make such a fuss, dear,” Ashdown replied with a long-suffering tone in his refined voice, before turning to Newson. Somehow, Newson didn’t look so smug any more. Next to him, Adele Merritt was staring at Ashdown’s wife in absolute shock.
“You’re married to her?” she asked. It wasn’t a surprising question: blonde, tall, slim and undeniably beautiful (although her beauty was not a thing of wholesomeness, with her spitefully sharp cheekbones and lofty nose), she looked like a swan chained to the short and snappish Lord Edward Ashdown. Nevertheless, she did not seem like an ideal wife.
“Unfortunately,” Ashdown replied. He glanced over at Newson. “Mr Newson, please tell me... what were you trying to establish by bringing my wife into the future?”
“Thought it would be pretty fucking obvious to be honest, Lord,” Newson said, although there was less confident in his words now. There was something so disinterested about Ashdown in relation to his wife’s kidnapping. “You do as I say or we kill her. Yeah?”
Ashdown arched one well-groomed brow. He had a very smug face, some would perhaps call it a punchable face, and it had the desired effect of making Newson’s blood boil.
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve considered hiring a mercenary to murder this woman?” he asked primly. “And here you are, offering the service for free.”
“Arse,” Verity muttered.
“Why am I not surprised about this?” Adele muttered as Newson’s expression darkened.
“Are you telling me you really wouldn’t give a shit if I killed her?”
Ashdown tilted his head and, briefly, an amused look passed over his lips.
“I really, really hate you, Edward! Do you know that? God knows I’ve told you enough times over the past four years, but Christ Almighty, this is the last straw. Whenever I get out of these chains, which I promise you I will, I swear I will murder you...”
“Perhaps I will miss her boundless wit and charm,” Ashdown said idly. “You know, Miss Walshe, I never had you pinned for a murderer.” His silvery blue eyes flicked to her in time to catch the uncomfortable look on her face increasing in strength. Newson spotted this and scowled.
“She’s whatever I pay her to be,” he snapped. “Do you want me to kill her, then?”
“Oh, yes, well done,” Ashdown sneered. “Let’s just destroy the universe, shall we? I’m sure Mr Kirby will be delighted to hear that.”
“What’s going on?” Verity suddenly demanded. “Edward?”
“Get rid of her,” Newson growled, turning away from Ashdown’s insufferable sneer with a dark frown on his face. Robyn reluctantly dragged Verity from the room, whose anger had faded into confusion, although she tried to hide it by lifting her haughty chin high. “Believe me, Ashdown-she will suffer if you keep playing up.”
“I understand,” Ashdown said, much to Newson’s surprise. He sighed and seated himself on one of the square white sofas that littered Hamlet Tower, Newson’s skyscraper. “Let’s discuss, shall we?”