[CW: Verbal domestic abuse, suggestion of wife battery, suggestion of pedophilia]

Magnus sat in the library with a letter in hand. It couldn't be... his daughter... the only sane daughter... went off the deep and married that boy he trusted to court her properly.

Dear Papa, I never meant to hurt you...

Only it did hurt. How could she do this? Never mind that boy... He would speak to him later. Of course, he was going to honor the damned marriage because they had likely done things anyway that had ruined Pearl even more than the elopement. Oh, what had she done?

He picked up his glass tumbler, half filled with brandy, and sent it crashing into the fireplace. He threw the letter in right after.

What a moment for Anne to walk in with an air of haughtiness and disinterest, dressed in black crepe and silk, buttoning up a black mantle. She flinched a little when the tumbler hit the fireplace, but then one of the corners of her mouth turned up a little. She stopped in the middle of the room. "Oh dear. I can see you have been drinking again. Shall it be safe to approach you or are you in a wife beating mood?"

"I have never hit you, woman," he growled. "Though sometimes you make me wish to throttle you until your pretty neck snaps, but I have yet to act on that, hmm?" His words slurred a little. "You conniving... ice cold bitch." His eyes glittered and he said, "Why couldn't you ever just love Pearl the way you dote on the rest of the damned brood? She's gone off... and eloped. My little girl is ruined!" He sobbed.

She was used to these kinds of threats and abuse and she merely scoffed at them. Then her eyes flashed wide.

Pearl. Eloped.

At last the old fool could see clearly what he had done. That was what he got for his sins. She had always known Pearl would humiliate them all. That was what her husband got for bringing bad blood into the family.

"Well, you old fool. Don't blame me. I have warned you so often, I can only say I told you so. You indulged that girl's ill-bred spirit and desires and here's the result. Anyway, I'm off to see Margaret."

"You old bat, you sit down... right now... because you're in for a treat." He cackled and then downed some brandy right out of the crystal decanter. He wiped his mouth and pointed at her sloppily, "I cut you all out of my will, you old biddy. Now are you going to listen to me?"

Anne wasn't surprised because she already knew, though she had been sensible enough to keep it from her husband. She was still looking for a lawyer who could assist her.

She spun round. "You can't do that, you drunk boar!"

"I did... and you'll never find the new will... Never," he cackled. "It's all legal like, signed and witnessed. You'll not get a pense, you bat. Flapping around, 'eeeep, eeeep, eeeep, pitttttyyyy meeee,'" flapping motions with his hands. He set the decanter down firmly, walked over to her, pulled her into the library and closed the door behind her. "Now... do you want a red cent or not? Because you can be put back in if you wanted to. Not the children... not the children... we failed those fucking children. All of em. Augh!"

Anne did not resist, but as Magnus spoke, and taunted, and tried to make her beg, she looked straight at him with all the hatred of a woman who had been forced to live with a man she despised for years. Her lips and nostrils trembled. Her eyes were cold. "You pathetic excuse for a man. You selfish boar. You want me to beg? Why don't you hurry up and die already, for I'd rather lose everything, knowing you are burning in hell."

His laughter died, "You faithless bitch." He muttered. "I wish you would die first with your constant nagging and buzzing in my ear like the blood sucking mosquito you are. I loathe you with the passion of a thousand burning suns. You'll suffer me for a long time because I have no plans on going anywhere. In fact, I shouldn't bother to change the will at all. Little fool would not know what to do with the family fortune and it would serve you all right if she spent it all on orphans. That would make you all so very angry wouldn't it?"

"Who?" Anne demanded, glaring at the disgusting old swine.