The Invisible Husband

by Cari Hislop

  The carriage pulled to an abrupt halt jerking Eve from the arms of the dream demon and back into the power of the real one. Her sleepy mind noted the bluish tint of the sky that hinted at the nearing sunrise. The door was jerked open and her warm cocoon gently peeled back allowing freezing air to gooseflesh her limbs. Black leather gloves handed her belongings to someone behind him and then extended towards her in a wordless command as quiet shadowy servants carried her trunks into the house. She tried to convince herself that she’d wake up in the morning and find her wedding an amusing joke, but the insistent black glove lightly tapping her knee made her heart shudder at the unknown.

  Taking hold of the black glove, she stepped down and stared in awe at the outline of a vast house, black against the star studded sky. She’d be surprised if it didn’t have three hundred rooms. Was this her home or a temporary stop? She’d soon find out. The demon didn’t ask her if she’d had a pleasant journey or if she was tired as he banished the carriage with a wave of his hand. Inhaling a lungful of icy air she tightened her grasp on the firm glove as it quickly led her across a gravel drive towards the ground level door illuminated by a single candle. She could hear the other three cloaked outriders keeping step behind them. Were they there to keep her safe from the night or ensure she didn’t escape? The four demons took post outside of the front door where she was waved into the faintly lit yellow entrance. Two long rows of shadowy servants dressed in their best clothes were waiting to receive her, but there was no sign of her mysterious husband. Eve had grown up with servants, but what were all these people supposed to do? There had to be a separate servant for every conceivable activity. Her parent’s household of fifteen indoor servants couldn’t compare to the small village lined up to meet her. Feeling overawed, her first action was to remove her bonnet. She wanted to ensure they could all see the woman their master had purchased. Exhausted she forced herself to smile and nod as the housekeeper introduced herself and then named what seemed like a thousand servants. At last she was led away up the stairs into a small greenish blue reception room with a large fire and two bracket candlesticks reflected in the mirror over the mantel.

  The housekeeper looked rather nervous as she leaned over to whisper, “His Lordship wished you to wait here. He’ll be along shortly to show you to your rooms.”

  Eve’s eyebrows knit together as she asked in a loud voice. “Tell me Mrs Good, why is everyone whispering?”

  Mrs Good looked appalled at Eve’s booming voice. “His Lordship prefers a quiet house my Lady. We all have strict orders to speak in soft tones.”

  “Have you really?” Eve’s voice was even louder. “Would you be so good Mrs Good to tell my husband that his wife wishes to see him immediately?”

  “As you wish my Lady…” Mrs. Good rushed from the room looking perturbed. Lord Latham had made it clear that his wife’s every whim be obeyed quickly, but Mrs Good had never known his Lordship to react well to imperious women. What had her master done?

  Eve put her cold feet on the fender and watched the hands of the clock on the mantelpiece slowly tick; ten minutes, fifteen minutes, seventeen minutes, nineteen minutes, forty minutes. She fought off sleep, but after the hands of the clock told her she’d been waiting an hour she decided she’d give her husband a piece of her mind as soon as he arrived and fell fast asleep.

  Chapter 4

  Adam was still standing in front of his mirror. He’d changed into clean clothes; his new bottle green coat and buff breeches fit to perfection. He was wasting time agonising over his hated eye patch. He wanted her to see him for the first time looking his best. His figure was good, his wavy black hair was still free of grey, but the mirror reflected a fool pirate straight off a pantomime stage, but without the eye patch he was gruesome. Looking at his naked face in the mirror made his own flesh crawl; there was no hope it wouldn’t make his new bride shrink in horror. His once perfect left eye was now a sightless fleshy white ball. The long puckered facial scars pointed towards it from two directions as if onlookers needed several reminders that he only had one eye. He hissed insults at the fool pirate in the mirror. He was mad. Why did he expect his bride to accept the situation without any explanation, to accept him with open arms? He hadn’t yet contemplated the possibility of being refused her bed, it was too awful. He’d never wanted any woman like he wanted his wife.

  The housekeeper’s message tightened the knot in his stomach as the sight of his reflection made him snarl in irritation. How was his Eve to fall in love with him when he looked like a fool and couldn’t talk louder than a hoarse whisper? Smashing his fists onto his dressing table, his spare eye patch and several scent bottles flew off onto the floor unharmed mocking his rage.

  Musing his defects till sunrise wouldn’t endear him to his bride; without another glance at the mirror he started the long walk to his waiting wife. There was an audible click as he shut the door behind him but there was no movement from the feet visible under the chair. He reluctantly stepped over to the fire and looked down at his bride. Her mouth was parted, her eyes closed in sleep. Choking on the fear of rejection he forcibly conquered the impulse to step back into the darkness and remained in the light. “Eve…Eve!” His loudest gruff whisper did nothing but make him frustrated. “My Lady, wake up!” She didn’t flinch.

  Relaxing, he sighed with pleasure at the closeness of soft curves draped in ethereal pink. He didn’t care if he was mad; she was the woman he wanted to hear trailing happiness through his home. Kneeling down, he held his breath as he removed her pink slippers. After lightly fingering them he set them aside and admired ankles sheathed in pink silk stockings. Did he dare? He looked from her sleeping face to her tiny feet and decided that it was best not to chance it. If she woke up she might think him some sort of lecher and kick him in the face. The thick scar across his throat throbbed painfully from the heat rising under his cravat. Standing up, he propped open the door into the hall before returning and carefully scooping his bride into his arms. With his heart purring at her nearness he retraced the long walk back to the master suit.

  Her bedchamber door was open, a large fire and numerous candles lit up the room. He laid her gently onto the bed and untied her cloak. Shivering, she turned over in her sleep and tucked her hands under her pillow. Tucking the hot water bottle near her feet, he pulled the bedclothes up over her shoulders. Closing the door, he absently turned the key in the lock and turned back to his bride. Standing next to the bed he watched her sleep wishing he could throw off his irritating eye patch and slide in beside her. Impulsively he leaned over and lightly kissed her cheek, “Pleasant dreams Eve.” Sighing in disappointment he snuffed out the candles. Pushing a well disguised button, he disappeared through a sudden opening into the long secret passage that led to his own bedchamber.

  Chapter 5

  Eve stretched her legs as dim morning light reached in through half drawn curtains and saved her from another faceless demon. Opening her eyes she looked up to see pink and white striped silk lining the canopy of a full tester bed. She turned her head to see more pink and white striped bed curtains drawn back against the headboard. Feeling oddly constrained she pushed back her pink coverlet to find she was still dressed. Had her husband carried her up to bed? Sitting up she found she’d been lying on her cloak. Someone had removed her shoes, but not her stockings. She sighed in relief; the thought of black leather gloves reaching up her skirts to untie her garter ribbons made her feel ill. She yawned and looked around with curious eyes. The seat of the chair at the dressing table, the padded arm chair and footstool, the window dressing; they were all covered in the same pink and white striped silk. She loved pink and white stripes. Who’d told her demon-husband and where was he? The fire was smouldering embers. Her trunks were stacked in one corner of the room, but there was no sign of her shoes. Hopping out of bed she approached the door. She was about to turn the handle when her sleepy brain realised the key was in the lock. She swung back to face her room in fear. There was no other door that
she could see and she could see he wasn’t under the bed. There was no way a man could fit into the linen press; unless he was a dwarf. Was her husband a dwarf? Was that why he married her by proxy? Even if he was really short that still didn’t explain why he’d picked her or why he refused to introduce himself. She opened her door and looked out into the empty hall. She shivered as the oak floorboards absorbed the heat from her feet. “Lord Latham! Where are you? Come out and show yourself right…now!” Her angry shout bounced off the farthest ends of the hall. She waited listening. “Lord Latham…!” She suddenly heard running footsteps; someone was coming. Her shoulders fell as the housekeeper appeared around the corner and hastened towards her at an unladylike run, her silver châtelaine dangling with keys and various useful tools clanging against her skirts. The middle aged woman was out of breath when she reached the open door.

  “My…Lady…His Lordship…is still abed…”

  The rustling of curtains being drawn together behind her sent a chill down Eve’s spine. The summoned demon had come. “It’s alright Mrs Good…” The husky whisper seemed to promise every conceivable evil. Eve spun round to see a dark shape of a man against the closed curtains. “…I’m right here.”

  “Forgive me my Lord…I thought her Ladyship would sleep longer…”

  “Send up her lady’s maid and prepare the small dark dining room for breakfast in an hour.”

  “Yes my Lord.” Jangling keys clanked together as the woman ran back the way she’d come leaving Eve alone at the mercy of her husband.

  “You called…my Lady?”

  Was there a smile in his husky whisper? She slammed the door closed and marched across the room her knees weak with fear, her hammering heart advising caution. A few feet from the shadow she noticed the black hole in the wall where he’d entered. She stopped within arms reach and put her hands on her hips as she conquered the desire to turn and run. “At last, my invisible husband; perhaps you’d be so good as to introduce yourself and explain why you married me.” Her voice rose to an ear splitting scream. “Why?” A shadow arm reached out as if to comfort her. “Don’t touch me!” The arm recoiled as if slapped. Shadowy hands were placed on hips, somehow giving off an air of injury. Taking a deep breath she asked in an almost normal tone. “Why did you close the curtains?”

  “I’m hideous.”

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “I can’t talk any louder. I survived a deep wound across the throat.”

  “Well, that makes me feel safe. Did you cut yourself shaving? Did you try to kill yourself out of despair or did someone try to murder you?”

  “I challenged a man to a duel.”

  “How romantic; I might also add…how stupid.”

  “Yes. Thank you for adding that.”

  “So this romantic stupid streak…this inspired you to purchase a woman, a woman you’ve never met, to be your wife?”

  “My mother thinks so.”

  “You have a mother? Are you a widow? Do you have children? How old are you? Where do you live? Are you mad? I don’t know anything about you. I wasn’t even privy to your name before that melodramatic insanity you dreamed up for a wedding.”

  “You’re my first wife. I know I should have written, but every time I tried to put pen to paper it all came out sounding…stupid.”

  Eve relaxed; it wasn’t exactly what one expected a demon-lord to say. “I suppose I should be grateful that you’re aware of your faults. Would you please open the curtains? I’d like to see what my husband looks like.”

  “No…I’m not presentable.”

  “I can see that you’re wearing a dressing gown, so I assume you mean your face?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s wrong with your face?”

  “I’ll show you when you’re ready.”

  “And how will you know when I’m ready?”

  The man paused and took a long deep breath. “You’ll be in love with me.”

  Eve’s burst out laughing; her life was getting stranger by the hour. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am.”

  “Why would you want me to fall in love with you?”

  “You’re my wife. Why wouldn’t I want you to love me?”

  “So you’re not going to ravish or beat me if I hazard an unfavourable opinion on the state of your sanity?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of hurting you…” A soft knock on the chamber door announced the arrival of the maid. “…your wish is my desire…my lady.”

  “I desire you to leave my room my Lord.”

  “My Lady.” The shadow bowed respectfully and then disappeared into the black hole in the wall which slid shut with a soft click. The whole situation was absurd. Eve was still laughing at the thought of falling in love with her demon-husband as the lady’s maid helped her change her dress and put up her hair. Questions burst into her mind like fireworks; thankfully Lord Latham appeared quite willing to feed her curiosity…if she could find him. Her stomach rumbled with anticipation for breakfast and another strange interview with her husband.

  Chapter 6

  Adam slumped onto his bed and railed himself with a stream of whispered curses. His first meeting with Eve had not gone remotely as planned. She clearly thought him a lecherous lunatic. He wasn’t sure which hurt more, being told not to touch her or being laughed at. His mother was right; he was the biggest romantic fool ever born. His stupid heart had led him into another patch of trouble. The impulsive heart, which had compelled him to call out a man he knew could kill him because the man had ravished a local girl, had compelled him to wed a stranger named Eve. The local girl had never thanked him for nearly dying to salvage her disreputable honour and it appeared unlikely that his wife would thank him for marrying her. The thought of facing her scorn across the breakfast table wearing his cursed silly eye patch made him leap off the bed and hoarsely roar his impotent rage. Why did life have to be so difficult? All he wanted to do was to take his wife in his arms and cover her with kisses. Just because he was a stranger didn’t mean he couldn’t win her over given time and opportunity. Three lazy knocks made him scowl at the door. He knew that knock. He stomped over to the door to the hall and yanked it open. “What the devil are you doing here? I told you to stay away until she falls in love with me.”

  His beautiful baby brother merely blinked in disinterest at the topic and pushed past him into his bedchamber. “So how did it go last night? You must be quite a lover old man. I accidentally pressed my ear to her keyhole and heard the most delicious laughter every few minutes…”

  Adam paled in horror, she was still laughing at him? “I paid you good money to keep your pretty face away from home for at least two months. Don’t tell me you’ve lost all that money on another stupid wager?”

  “Mother says she’ll skin me and feed me to the ravens if I wager another penny. You know what that means. She’ll marry me off to Cousin Guinevere. Why couldn’t you marry Guinevere? She thinks you and your eye patch are to die for. The horrid woman made me sing fifteen pirate songs before I could escape her the last time Mamma made me call on her.” The younger man fell onto his brother’s bed and put his hands under his neck. “So how did it go last night?”

  “It didn’t! She fell asleep before I could introduce myself now go away before she falls in love with you.”

  “No wonder you’re in a bad mood.”

  “I’m not in a bad mood. Now go away before she sees you.”

  “Relax old man; you’re the wealthy Lord, I’m the penniless fourth son.”

  “Yes and she’s now my wife which means I’ve cracked all my eggs and you’re more handsome and charming so be kind to me and run away. I’ll be in a bad mood for life if she falls in love with you.”

  “You should write all this down and turn it into a play. You’re worse than father; just go tell her you’re in love with her and roll her onto the bed with sweet nothings. It always works for me.”

  Adam rolled his eyes in irritation. “You’re a
genius Luke! I’ll waltz into my wife’s chamber, throw out my arms in a theatrical gesture of conquering hero and in a whisper proclaim she owns my heart (even though we’ve never met making myself look a complete ass) and demand my conjugal rights. Yes, I’m sure that would win her over. What woman could resist such stupidity?”