by Rizzo Rosko
Marianne froze, her heart picking up speed as she waited for him to speak, but Gray did not draw attention to Archer.
Marianne stood tall but struggled to breathe as she wondered whether or not he would keep his promise.
Her father spoke. “My lord?”
Just as quickly, William’s attention was focused solely on her. They had both forgotten his question.
“How could I ever forget such a vision?” His arm flew out, captured her hand before she could pull away, and drew it to his lips.
Marianne’s face became hot at the lie that fell so easily from the lips that gingerly kissed her hand. He spoke softly and his manner was gentle, but his eyes bore hard into hers. She saw the angry soul hidden within. It consumed her like a hissing fire she could not escape, suffocating and destroying her hope.
Finally Marianne jerked her hand away and stepped back, only to realize the servants were still watching.
Lord Gray acted as if naught was amiss and continued to smile at her, though despite the glow it emitted she could never believe it to be genuine with his inflamed eyes.
He rested his palm on the small of her back and drew her forward, she did not put her heels into the ground this time, and Marianne realized that she still had to go through the horrors of being introduced to the servants.
She nodded and smiled to them and they bobbed and bowed in return. Their smiles were as nervous as hers, and just as false as her husband’s. Marianne knew why. A new mistress could change the way the entire household was run. They thought she could make their lives miserable, but Marianne knew she would never be able to utter a word to them.
William would never allow it after what she had done.
William hesitated, one side of his lip upturned. He was enjoying her torment. After a long moment he clapped his hands and called for attention. “Return to your work, we have much to do before tomorrow night! More guests will be arriving any minute now!”
“Yes, yes! The party!” Sir Holton said with much enthusiasm. “We must celebrate the wedding of the earl and his new countess!”
Despite the commanding tone in William’s voice and Holton’s excitement, Marianne took curious note of how the servants hesitated, looked at each other, and slowly made their way back to their respective chores.
Marianne opened her mouth to question the behavior, but thought better of it. Her precarious situation stilled her tongue.
Her father grinned gleefully with the circumstances now, but before he had been livid with her, roam-around-the-room, screaming-furious. At least the only good to come from forcing marriage onto the wrong man was that she had married someone above her station who had already inherited his title. That alone had been enough to prevent Holton from throwing her from his manor.
It was a double-edged sword, however. On the one hand she brought a title to her name, but on the other she might possibly have brought the wrath of an earl on her house.
Guy Holton had been convinced William Gray would demand blood for her foolishness. Only time would tell what kind of price he expected to be paid for her actions.
William separated himself from her and addressed her father loudly enough so that she might hear as well, though the air of brotherly acquaintance was gone from his voice. “Sir Holton, before I have you settled into your room, would it be possible to speak a word with you and your daughter, alone?”
A bead of sweat rolled down Marianne’s forehead, and the accompanying swallow felt as painful as a fist-sized rock traveling down the inside of her neck.
Her father seemed to be swallowing rocks of similar size as he adjusted his cuffs and grinned with beads of his own sweat accumulating on his face.
“Of course, milord.”
It seemed they would be discovering the price of her stupidity sooner rather than later.
***
Marianne and Sir Holton were made to stand while William sat behind his writing table. The room was made warm, nearly welcoming with rushes under their feet and a fireplace with a roaring fire on their right.
The castle may have looked chilly from the outside but on the inside the decorative tapestries that hung over the stone walls, in the solar especially, made it seem more like a home than a fortress. Marianne had never seen anything like it, and she fought the lump in her throat with the thought that she would have to get used to it quickly. This was her home now.
Archer stood off in the corner with his hands clasped in front of him and his head bent while her father spoke on his behalf.
“Fiendish and absolutely corrupt he is, and I am sincerely apologetic that he is from my own home and humiliated that I had not noticed the horrendous nature of his character, though I give you my word, my honorable word, that he has been severely punished.”
Archer shifted uncomfortably, and Holton continued with his hands clasped together and his face pleading for any understanding that William’s predicament was no fault of his. “I have taken into account that you may wish to have him punished further, which was why I was so merciful when I handled his discipline, personally I might add, I would not have trusted such a thing with anyone else. As he is now your property you may wish to handle him as you see fit.”
Marianne tensed when the offer was put on the table and spun her head to Archer, who lifted his head and let his mouth fall open.
“Father, you cannot sell him!”
“Be silent you stupid girl,” Holton raised the back of his hand to her.
“There will be none of that,” William interjected, raising his own hand for peace and lowering it when it was attained, a gentle smile lifting his lips. “Remember that tonight I have been reunited with my bride. I am pleased and expect all others to be as well.”
His eyes met hers and Marianne was so caught by the sincerity of his words that for a moment she believed he was telling the truth.
Then his eyes grew cold and they turned back to her father. “Now, about our arrangement,”
“My lord, I brought what I could,” Sir Holton waved his hand towards the sacs of coins, gold frames wrapped in cloth, rings and every exotic spice that was available to him, which sat in a useless heap on the floor.
The Holton manor had been stripped nearly bare of all things fine to pay for Marianne’s dowry. The green gown she wore was the last of her finery, with only her plainest of clothing packed into her luggage, and this was only because her father did not want them to present himself as a pauper to William.
Still, they both knew it would hardly be enough.
Holton pointed his hand in Archer’s direction, but did not look at him, though he sneered dramatically when he spoke of him. “I would offer you this servant, not sell, as compensation for the trouble you have had to endure at his wretched, deceiving hands. His father made the finest arrows so he has some skill in that trade, but his specialty lies with the horses. He can sleep with them as well if you like. Or you may dispose of him.”
Marianne shrieked. “Father!”
He did not flinch at the high pitch produced so closely to his ear, nor did he look at her. Marianne was left with the helpless notion that no matter how much she yelled or begged, Archer’s fate was entirely out of her hands.
William turned to Archer, and Marianne’s heart fell into her stomach while he considered it.
She silently prayed, though for what she was unaware. Should Lord Gray turn Archer away he would have no home to go to as he was obviously no longer welcome to work at Holton House.
And if he stayed here, what then? How would he be treated? Lord Gray had sworn on his honor in a church that he would pretend those men had never existed should he see them again, but it was quite difficult to pretend in this situation, if he ever had any intention of keeping his word, that is.
Lord Gray tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Despite my suspicious nature, which you will find forgivable as you wish to give me a servant who has participated in my abduction, and whom you have called a treacherous villain, I shall accept him.
He sounds as if he can be of use. I will not ‘dispose’ of him, however.”
Marianne shrieked inside her head for joy and anguish, and Archer continued to open and close his mouth, as if the words he wanted had been sucked from his body. Eventually he resigned himself to the rueful fact that he could not speak against his betters and lowered his head.
Holton grew two inches taller. “Understandable, milord, very understandable. You are very generous in your kindness. Now, just between the two of us, my lord,” Marianne’s father freely walked around the table and approached Gray with the air of an old friend, and without permission as well.
Marianne was not sure of their manner towards each other, especially when Lord Gray was so friendly earlier. Whatever friendliness was there had evidently been a show put on for the servants, because now he seemed appalled that Marianne’s father could do such a thing as kneel down and put his fatherly arm around William’s noble shoulder.
Holton hardly seemed to notice. “I know that Archer somehow tricked my daughter into this scheme, villain that he is. He confessed as much. There must have been more people involved, but no one in my household will speak of such things despite my best efforts.”
Marianne wondered if her father’s best efforts were still stinging poor Archer’s raw back.
“Tell me, my lord, how many men accosted you in the church? Tell me what they looked like and I swear on my honor I shall help you track down every last one of those cowardly worms. Should they be a part of my household they shall be tossed out and left to starve.” He paused, as though remembering that the decision would not be his. “Or, you may dispense of them yourself.”
William looked at Marianne with a raised brow when her father finished with his speech.
She held her breath and returned his steady gaze, her fists shaking at her sides as she addressed her father. “I told you there was no one else.”
Red faced, her father ran back around the table to screech in her ear. “Nonsense! Who performed the marriage then?”
William stood and commanded all of the authority into his voice as he glared down ice at Holton. Lord Gray was a head taller than his shorter, thicker guest, and easily intimidated him with these alone. “Sir Holton, you are correct that someone had to be present to perform the ceremony. Since that man would obviously have to be a man of the cloth, I will withhold his name and assure you that there were no others. You can rest easy knowing that your house has not been corrupted by anymore felons.
Her father’s face returned to a normal color and Marianne’s face grew hot as she fought not to faint. She could hardly believe her ears.
He was going to keep his promise! If she was not so put out with him for being the wrong man she would have thrown her arms about his neck.
Sir Holton muttered to himself grudgingly, knowing very well that it was beyond him to argue. “Very good, my lord, but are you quite sure you would not wish to share the identity of the priest?”
William glared and Holton flushed, stumbling to the other side of the table. “Very well, you are a good man to protect him, even if he is a man of the cloth.”
“Indeed.” William then turned to Archer who still had his head down, staring at the floor as though he still couldn’t quite believe what had occurred. “You. I am sure the others will tell you which way to the stables, go there and ask for Robert. He will give you work and show you a place where you may sleep.”
Archer opened his mouth, and then looked at Sir Holton, who did not look back at him. “Aye, milord,” and he bowed and ducked out of the room.
Marianne’s heart went out to him. She guiltily lifted her eyes to look at Lord Gray, wishing he would bestow some pity on her and let her leave with Archer so that she would not have to endure anymore of this torture.
He did no such thing, and his eyes remained cold on her.
A knock on the door sounded and a servant walked in without waiting for an invitation.
His audacity startled Marianne when the man stopped cold in his tracks at the sight of both Marianne and her father.
Sir Holton snapped at him. “The nerve of you! Coming in here and interrupting us?”
“Milord, I am deeply sorry, I—-” the servant cleared his throat and spoke as if he had not heard her father. “Your guests are arriving outside, milord.”
Marianne felt sick. Guests meant that she would have to stay in William’s company longer. Much longer if this were to be the proper celebration of a true earl.
She did not know if she could face the guests and play the blushing bride to satisfy the crowd.
William turned his back on Sir Holton and Marianne to look out the windows, and by his expression Marianne knew that he could see the guests coming up the same road she had traveled earlier.
“I see. Adam, have their rooms prepared and bring them some warm wine. The days are becoming chilled.”
The servant bowed and scurried out the door.
William walked around his writing table and Marianne once again found his eyes on her as he approached. He stood close, she could feel the heat from his body as he raised his hand to caress her cheek. An uncertain chill ran down her spine that had naught to do with the weather.
His eyes remained cold. “I should like to introduce my guests to my beautiful wife.”
***
Marianne’s face burned from her cheeks all the way to the back of her head from all the false smiling. Greeting and curtsying to Lady Anne, Lord Gray’s kin, a woman with the same color hair and eyes as her cousin and nearly the same height, had been the most horrible experience of her life, because now Marianne felt like a liar to William’s kin.
Though Anne’s face was plain the mischievous smile she donned when a morsel of gossip presented itself hinted at a fun disposition.
Marianne would have certainly enjoyed Anne’s company had her situation not been so wretched.
Anne’s husband, the Earl of Seacliffe, had darker hair and stood barely taller than his wife, though their similar smiles of acceptance towards Marianne made her feel only more guilty, and that was before the hugging and greeting of several other well-bred ladies, their husbands, and other distant relatives and friends of William’s.
All she heard was praise in her ear.
“How lucky you are to have snatched him.”
“Such a beauty ye are, ‘tis no wonder he fell for ye.”
“What a lovely gown ye wear. I imagine Lord Gray must spoil ye quite a bit already.”
Marianne’s eye twitched under her crumbling patience, but she endured it and no one seemed to believe her sputtering language was anything other than a weak, womanly shyness brought on by so many people.
She looked through the crowds, wishing the fog of laughing and dancing people would all decide that the room was too hot for their tastes and scatter, hopefully home to their own beds. But they stayed and remained oblivious of the helplessness of their hostess.
Marianne saw William studying her from a group of men with an entertained smirk on his face.
She fought to keep from scowling at him in front of so many noble people. Instead, she brightened her smile, poured every happy memory into her head and let him have it.
The shocked expression on his face made it worth the effort, but her cheeks and skull felt as though they were on fire.
Her face relaxed when she felt a prickle behind her neck. She turned and Sir Ferdinand appeared through the haze of people. Fear jolted inside of her and consumed her body like wildfire. Her eyes met his through the haze of dancing people as he stood off the wall and openly stared. His crooked nose scrunched and drooping eyes sent her hideous messages of his displeasure.
Marianne shivered, then froze, forgetting the conversation Lady Anne was trying to have with her when Ferdinand approached and formally bowed.
She stood straight and stiff and allowed him to clasp her hand with his gnarled fingers and bestow it with a kiss. Even through the fabric of her gloves, she felt his wet lips and sup
pressed another shiver of disgust.
“Congratulations to you, my lady.” His voice was deceptively sincere. Marianne tried to pull her hand back, calmly so Lady Anne and none of the watching guests would see, but he held firm, his other hand caressing the glove he had just kissed.
Though she was slightly taller, perspiration formed on her forehead with her sudden stress and quickening of her heart.
This man frightened her beyond anything she ever experienced, and sent chills under her skin.
Like the first time when she had been introduced to him, the faint scent of urine wafted from his clothes and circled her, tightening around her body through her clothes, trapping her to him.
He was bald on the top of his head, but on either side of his skull grey hair stuck out in all different directions. Unlike his hair, his eyes were focused solely on her.
“‘Tis a shame I missed my opportunity to have you. I should have acted more swiftly.”
Anne pretended to sneeze so that she might clasp her nose against the smell. The small action gave Marianne enough courage to smile, because in this castle, Ferdinand could not frighten her with his perverse innuendos.
“‘Tis fortunate for both of us that I am swifter.” She said, and Ferdinand’s grasp on her hand tightened with a strength that should have been impossible for his age.
***
Her hair was as red as he remembered and she smelled of the fresh air he had eagerly inhaled in the damp church. With her face so flushed from the humiliation she no doubt felt, pleasant color invaded her cheeks, leaving a beautiful maiden for his pleasure. More beautiful than he remembered.
When well-wishers approached, her face lost its blushing color and twisted in an awkward smile.
Her face soon dropped, as though stunned and fearful of whom she was seeing, but a group of giggling women blocked the view of whoever was the cause of her stress, and William tilted his head, willing them to move on.
They did, and William gasped quietly when he saw that the source of her discomfort was the man he most despised. His fists clenched and body trembled.
