Not My Cup of Tea

CW: Sexual assault, physical violence

Magdalena knew better. She knew better than to visit the strange Dr. Greene without an escort, especially to his private residence of all places.

Her inner voice practically begged her not to climb that grassy hill, not to place her newly fitted boots one after the other up the mossy stairs. Click. Click. Click .She knew better.

She knew better than to pull the frayed cord that rung the bell alerting the occupants of her arrival. She knew better than to step over the threshold when the lanky, gray haired butler showed her inside.

She knew better than to follow his lead of this butler into the drawing room where Dr. Greene was formally introduced. She knew better than to allow herself to be seated upon the velvet blue plush chair. She knew better than not to ask the butler to stay, but instead watched him bow to the both of them before quietly closing the doors and leaving them alone.

But there she sat, tall and proud, in her best emerald dress and hat, complete with her pearls.

At least she hoped that her posture gave the air of said pride. She would not show any sign of nervousness, nor provide any clue of the fear that Dr. Greene stirred up inside of her belly. She knew better.

Dr Greene loomed over her, his sharp blue eyes bearing into her own. It was unnerving, a sign of dominance from this strange yet alluring man she was sure, but Magdalena would not look away. She would not show weakness. She knew better.

He leaned in close to her ear, and spoke in hushed tones.

"My Dear, I am much obliged that you have obeyed my request and have arrived alone."

Dr Greene stood erect, lifted her white gloved hand to his lips and kissed it. He held it much longer than necessary. She felt his hot breath through the satin, his eyes still locked into hers. But she dared not take her hand from his. She knew better.

He spoke, still hushed,

"My Dear Magdalena, your eyes are as bright and deep brown as a doe's in the springtime, and just as alert. Why, are you frightened my dear Maggie?"

She dared not flinch. She dared not answer truthfully. For all the fear that she carried all the way down to her toes, she would not falter. She knew better.

She answered, loud and commanding.

"No Dr Greene, I am not afraid. I come, knowing of your character, and I still come freely."

dropping her hand, he lifted his long crooked fingers to his lips, and furrowed his dark brows.

"HUSH!"

He leaned in close to her, lifted her chin. So close now that she could smell the sweet tobacco on his breath, see the stains on his teeth. She would not recoil. She knew better.

Quieter still, he threatened,

"You and I will speak but only in whispers for the rest of our meeting. I am afraid that our words will not fall on deaf ears, but rather those of the eavesdropping help. And well, my dearest Maggie, we cannot have anyone other than my trusted fellow Elijah knowing that you were ever here. You do quite agree I hope?"

She despised him calling her Maggie. That was not her preference and he knew it, but she dared not argue or cringe. She knew better.

Magdalene hissed,

"Yes."

She relaxed back into her seat.

Dr Greene's thin pink lips stretched into a smirk.

"You have come for tea, and something... more I presume?"

"I have."

"Then you have my word that you will receive what you have come here for. But first, Shall I pour you a cup of tea? I need not summon Elijah for such a menial task."

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she felt the goosebumps rise on her flesh. She must be calm, she must trust that all would be well. She dared not shiver. She knew better.

Once poured, Dr Greene seated himself opposite her. She stared at her own cup. Grey plumes of steam rose and danced and in the air .

He lifted his cup and took the first sip, slow and deliberate.

Ah, safe then. She dared not exhale hence he know her suspicion. She knew better.

She looked out through the window into the moor and saw the thick fog rolling in.

Ominous.

Minutes passed as they sat in silence.

Dr Greene took a breath as if to speak, but then withdrew and drummed his fingers upon the table instead. He leaned in close, watching her with a raised eyebrow.

Magdalene sees her chance, but her breath catches, her heartbeat quickens. She dares not peer into the cup of tea that she had been served. She knows better.

Fear.

Try as she might like to yell, to cry out, she decides it best to remain calm, holds eye contact.

Realization.

"How ironic that on my walk to your home today that I could not help but keep thinking to myself that YOU are quite simply not my cup of tea, Mr Greene, and that this very cup that you have served me today was quite intently, served to me by your own hands, and was soley... was exactly ... meant to be ...MY cup of tea. "

She dared not reach for her throat. She would not give him the pleasure.

She gasped.

She choked.

She slumped back in her chair.

She was nearly lifeless, but could still hear his whispers. She dared not break eye contact. Not now. She would not allow him that win. She knew better.

"My Dear, Did you truly think that I, the brilliant Dr Greene, the town healer, the medicine man, would be so worried as to let your threat of blackmail deter me from continuing my joyous, murderous fancies? Why, it has all been in the name of medicine and studies after all."

He molested her, reached his cold hand into the bosom of her gown and ripped from it the only known evidence that both of them knew existed, the vile of another poison that he had mixed himself to murder a young miss Dahlia just last week.

He was so close now that Magdalene could feel his spittle as he spoke.

"You think yourself so clever dear Maggie, with your science?"

He lifted the vile up to the light of the window, and saw his own fingerprint, plain as day, dusted with what he thought to be Magdalene's face powder.

"My Dear Maggie, I have poisoned you as well, just as I have the four others that you know of. And now I shall study you, and your beautiful body as you die, and I shall have no remorse. "

It was his final whisper that lingered .

“You should have known better.”