Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4)

by Barbara Kloss

  "Thank you," I managed, gripping the edge of the door. "You look nice yourself."

  "Nice…" His eyes smiled. "I'll take it. May I…?" He nodded toward my room.

  No. Never, ever, for as long as I live—no. "Oh. Uh, yes. Sure." I stepped aside, still gripping my door as if it were a lifeline. He strode past me and into my room. The room felt too small with him standing in it.

  His eyes did a quick sweep. "How do you like your room?"

  I closed the door, leaning back against it with my hands clasped behind me. "Truthfully? I liked the other room better. There's so much pearly dragonstone here, I feel like I'm sleeping inside of a clam shell."

  He laughed and looked back at me. "Well, try to make the most of it. Besides, you'll be moving into my room in a few days." His eyes moved over me again, as if he were undressing me where I stood. There went one glove…the other glove…the fastening around my neck…

  I cleared my throat. "It isn't nice to stare."

  He looked back into my eyes. "It isn't nice looking like that when I can't do anything about it."

  My cheeks burned hot.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm making you uncomfortable. I forget that you're a bit more unversed than what I'm…" This time, he cleared his throat, and I felt his embarrassment. "Never mind. I, ah, came because I have something for you."

  I glanced up. In his hand was a red box, tied with a black, satin ribbon. It was a good-sized box—much too large for a ring, which gave me some sort of relief. Even though I knew I'd be wearing one eventually.

  Danton took slow steps forward, as though he were approaching a trapped bunny, and he stopped a few feet before me, holding the box between us. His eyes searched mine, hesitant and hopeful, and, to his credit, when I took the box from his hands, he didn't move any closer. He watched me as I tugged the ribbon free and lifted the lid.

  My lips parted with a soft gasp. It was quite possibly the most beautiful necklace I'd ever seen, and it had to be worth a fortune. It looked like it belonged in England with the rest of the crown jewels. A web of diamonds and onyx tapered in the shape of an upside-down triangle, and dripping from the point of that triangle was a multi-faceted ruby half the size of my palm, carved in the shape of a teardrop. The box was surprisingly light for something this size. Awed, I reached out and grazed my fingertips over the large stone.

  "Do you like it?" Danton asked.

  I'd almost forgotten he was standing there. "It's…beautiful," I said, and I meant it.

  "Good." He sounded pleased. "It's yours."

  I blinked up at him. "Danton, I can't accept this."

  He looked at me as if my response was unfathomable. "Why ever not?"

  I shook my head and shoved the box at him, but he stepped back, looking confused and now a little offended.

  "Look," I said, "it's not that I don't appreciate it—I do. It's the most beautiful piece of jewelry I've ever seen in my life. I mean it. Truly. It's just…too much. I've never owned anything so…expensive."

  Understanding softened the brow that had been hardened by offense. He then reached out and placed his hands around my other hand. "Well, now you do. You will be Orindor's pride, as you are mine, and as future Lady Pontefract, it's fitting you have something that suits you."

  Yes, his pride. The very thing I'd wounded before and was supposed to be salving now. "It's very generous of you, Danton, but I really can't—"

  He stepped closer, leaned forward, and kissed me. I froze—my words, my body, my breath. It was as if my spirit were suddenly in some other person's body, letting this man I didn't love kiss me. My heart screamed to run away, but my mind reminded me I couldn't. My mind also told me to kiss him back before it got awkward, but my heart wouldn't listen and my lips refused to move. I just stood there like a statue, letting Danton's lips press against mine. Thankfully, he pulled away before he noticed the battle my heart and mind were having.

  He stood closer now, trailing the backs of his fingers along my jaw. I swallowed, feeling completely at his mercy and hating every moment of it.

  "You'll wear it. For me." His voice was soft, but even amidst the tenderness, there was finality to his words. Just like there'd been last night, when I'd brought up the subject of Alex.

  I swallowed. "Yes."

  "Good." He cupped my chin, and I thought he was going to kiss me again—please, no!—but he didn't. "I'll help you put it on."

  Without a word I turned around and handed him the box, lifting the large curl Anna had arranged over one of my shoulders. Metal and stone touched my skin, there was a cold pressure upon my chest, and the stones filled the empty space of gown with a shimmering "V". The ruby teardrop fell right between my breasts. Danton's hands moved light as a feather upon my skin, tickling my neck as he fastened the clasp. When he was done, he paused, his fingers still on my neck while his heat sweltered behind me. I released my hair, letting it fall back in place, and he moved his palm to my shoulder, turning me back around to face him. His eyes settled on the necklace—or ruby, rather—and then his fingertips followed. I didn't like his hand there, even if he wasn't actually touching me.

  "Perfect," he whispered. By the way his eyes roamed, I wasn't sure what he'd referred to when he'd said perfect. "Waiting for you is going to be difficult."

  I couldn't be sure, but it seemed as if the light in my room dimmed a little. I took a small step back. "You're a strong man, Danton. I know you can do it. Consider it a test of willpower."

  He smiled at me. The lights hadn't brightened. "I didn't ask for such a profoundly difficult test."

  "Profoundly difficult?" I laughed. "Do you always get what you want? Actually…" I held up a finger. "Don't answer that."

  He grabbed my finger and brought it to his lips, and I could feel their warmth through my lacy glove. "I will be faithful to you," he whispered on my fingertips.

  "You know, a man is only as good as his word, so be careful what you promise." I really wished he'd let go of my hand.

  Instead, he turned my hand over and started kissing the underside of my wrist in a way that made me feel dirty. "I always am." He started pulling me toward him, slipping his other hand around my waist.

  I leaned away, feeling flush, but he only pulled harder. "Did you forget already?" I asked, trying not to sound as frantic as I felt.

  "This is hardly breaking any promises," he said along my arm. "I just want to kiss you."

  But this did not feel like kissing. Not even close. I wanted to run away, but I couldn't. There was only so much pushing away that I could do, because I'd promised him I'd try to be a wife. That was the only reason he'd agreed to marry me. His mouth moved to my jaw, and I swallowed.

  Just then, there was another knock on the door.

  "Yes?" My voice could've passed for bewildered or panicked, and I just hoped Danton's ego persuaded him it was a result of the former.

  Danton's lips moved toward my neck, and that's when I started squirming.

  "Your highness, it's me: Lady Pontefract."

  Oh, thank God.

  I was so happy I could've screamed like a fangirl. With my welcome excuse, I twisted, escaping Danton's hungry claws and headed for the door, my skin hot and crawling all over. I twisted the handle and opened the door with so much gusto, Lady Pontefract looked startled. And then she looked past me, into my bedroom.

  She was an elegant woman, just as Danton had said, but I didn't see a hint of timidity. Her presence was authoritative in a way that made everything in the background seem out of focus. Reserved? She looked about as meek and mild as a lion. And she was—without question—his mother. Danton may have inherited those cold blue Pontefract eyes, but the rest of him belonged to Lady Pontefract. Fair hair, lean build and fine, high cheekbones. Even the set of their thin lips, the way they settled in a line, tapering downward at the ends as if they were born with a cynical disposition. Lady Pontefract's hair was a bit more grey than blonde, but somehow this only added to her regality.

  She frowned
past me. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

  Translation: I had better not be interrupting anything inappropriate, or so help me (insert threat here).

  The floorboards creaked as Danton moved to stand beside me. "Good evening, Mother." He reached out and grabbed Lady Pontefract's hand. "You look lovely." He kissed the gaudy gem on her finger. "And no, you haven't interrupted anything. Her Highness and I were just talking."

  Lady Pontefract raised a sharp, pale brow. "I assure you that you and I share very different interpretations of the phrase 'just talking.'"

  He released her hand with a light laugh. "And I assure you our dear princess is ever as prudent as you are, my darling mother."

  I still didn't know where he got the idea I was so prudent, but I wasn't about to correct him.

  "Thank the spirits one of you is." Lady Pontefract wasn't amused.

  "Believe it or not, I'm glad too. It makes for a balanced team." Danton rested his palm on the bare small of my back and glanced sideways at me, while Lady Pontefract let out something of a dignified snort.

  "I'll see you soon." Danton bent his head to brush his lips against mine, and then he bowed his head to his mother. "Where's Father?"

  "In his study, with Carter," Lady Pontefract replied. "He asked that you wait with them there."

  Carter was here. I was anxious to meet him, but it looked like I'd have to wait till the banquet.

  Danton nodded, and with one last longing glance at me, he strode off down the hall with a cloud of satisfaction hovering all around him.

  I looked back to find Lady Pontefract watching me. She was looking at my necklace.

  "Did my son give that to you?" she asked. Her tone was almost friendly. Almost.

  "Yes, my lady. He—"

  "Cora."

  "Sorry?"

  "My name is Cora. I'm going to be your mother, so there's no need for us to address one another by title."

  "Cora," I repeated, and she looked pleased. "Danton gave it to me just before you knocked."

  "You don't like it?"

  "Oh, no—it's not that at all. It's just…I've never owned anything this valuable."

  Those cynical lips turned into a smile so warm it surprised me. "You'll have to get used to it, I'm afraid. Orindor is the jewel capital of the world. It would never do for a Lady Pontefract to go about dressed like a pauper. The Pontefract men's egos would never allow for it." There was a knowing glint in her eyes as she looked me over. "Come." She grabbed my arm and linked it with hers. "I'll take you to the hall."

  I already liked this woman.

  "That necklace belonged to the first Lady Pontefract, you know," she said as we walked.

  "I didn't know that, my la—Cora."

  She patted my arm. "Yes, it's an original Je Quai."

  "I'm not familiar with that term," I said.

  "Oh, forgive me. I forget you haven't grown up in this world. Je Quai was a world-renowned artist and jeweler from the city of Mosaque—perhaps you know where that is?"

  My heart squeezed just a little. "Yes, I do."

  She nodded. "Je Quai lived centuries ago—during the rise of Cristo Pontefract, the first Pontefract to rule as lord of Orindor. It was Cristo who commissioned Je Quai for that piece to give to his new bride. All of Je Quai's pieces cost small fortunes, but the piece you wear around your neck was his pride. He spent years finding the right stones—he didn't want the necklace to be too heavy, you know. It's rumored Cristo Pontefract spent the rest of his life paying it off. That ruby was named after his wife—Estrella—and it's the largest one known. The Pontefracts have kept it in the family ever since."

  "I don't doubt it." I didn't like that she was telling me all of this. I already felt like a liar, marrying a man I didn't love, and wearing his family heirloom made me feel like an imposter on top of it.

  Our next steps went without conversation as servants bustled past. Once they cleared, Cora inclined her head to me. "My son is making a bold statement by giving you that gift."

  The way she'd said that made me ask, "What kind of statement?"

  She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "My husband's philosophies have drifted far from those of the early Pontefracts. All of this is somewhat exacerbated by the current situation. My husband chooses to barter his power rather than build from within. He proposes to gain strength through alliance rather than fortify Orindor and let it stand on its own, as the first Pontefracts had done. My son believes his father devalues our borders by doing this."

  I was surprised she was telling me this. I also didn't like the fact that Danton was using my image as a counterargument. "Do your advisors fall in line with your husband's thinking, or Danton's?"

  "I'm not sure. As ruler, it's sometimes difficult finding true sentimentality amidst the gentry because they're all so busy trying to gain favor. But I am all too aware the people are unhappy and fault the aristocracy for their poverty."

  "About that," I said. "I hadn't realized until recently that there was such a discrepancy between the people and the aristocracy. Is it as extreme here as it is in Valdon?"

  "Yes, though my husband chooses to ignore it." Her anger flared, as did her grip on my arm. "I do what I can in the community, but there's only so much I can do. They've been oppressed for so long, I fear their anger is inherited, growing stronger with each new generation. Commodus is so busy squabbling amongst the gentry, he doesn't acknowledge it as he should. Gaia help him should they find a leader. Rebellions need only a figurehead to give them the legs to run."

  "If things are that bad, I'm surprised Sir Dunmore is able to assimilate troops."

  Her lips tightened. "He's having a difficult time."

  I looked over at her. Danton hadn't told me that—hadn't even alluded to it, not once over breakfast or lunch. Before I could voice my concern, Cora continued, "Orindor's men will be marching through Valdon to Castle Regius. There just aren't as many as we'd hoped. They are good people, and unanimously stalwart when it comes to defending their lands, but with what we're asking of them, to leave their families and homes to fight for a king many of them resent…well, it's no easy task for Sir Dunmore."

  A spark of anger flared as I stared ahead. Not as many as they'd hoped? What did that mean? "How many men have agreed to fight?" I asked.

  "You'll have to speak with my son. My husband shares very little of consequence with me, and last I heard was from Danton early this morning. The count was somewhere around fifty."

  I couldn't hide my shock. "Fifty?"

  "Shh…not another word on the matter." Her voice hardened, and then I realized we were approaching a very grand and guarded pair of double doors.

  Cora led me inside, thus beginning our short rehearsal of the events. It wasn't much—just bullet points of who would be doing this and announcing that, and how I'd need to respond and behave. I had a hard time focusing, though, because my mind kept wandering back to what she'd said. Fifty. My marriage in exchange for fifty men. Fifty men were supposed to help Stefan fight against ten thousand!

  I would be talking to Danton about this later. He could count on that.

  All the while, servants bustled about, arranging flowers and garlands atop tables with fancy coverings and candles, transforming a huge, hollow box of a room into a lush and exotic conservatory. Red flowers dripped from the ceiling like hanging moss, and black velvet coverings decorated tables with red petals spilled all over them. And there were jewels—so many jewels, wrapped around candelabras and dripping from the wall sconces like shimmering vines. I was certain the "ordinary" people of Orindor would just love this little display. One of those jewels could probably feed an entire family for a year. The solution to bolstering their anemic army dripped all over this room!

  One square of space was left open for dancing, and a harp was wheeled in, stationed in a far corner. I had no idea how this had been arranged in one day's time, and I could only imagine the chaos in the kitchens below. I was watching two servants argue over the
placement of what looked like a huge fountain of chocolate fondue when Danton found me. I was about to bring up his army of fifty when I realized he wasn't alone.

  I knew at once the young man beside him had to be Carter, because he was the spitting image of Lord Commodus Pontefract. He was shorter, though, maybe a hair taller than me, but his hair was that same midnight black, glossy as satin and slicked back, his face composed of unforgiving sharp angles. Unlike his father, his eyes weren't Pontefract blue. He'd inherited his mother's eyes, rich and velvety like the fountain of chocolate fondue the servants had finally decided to set beside a vase of bright red flowers. Where Danton was all refined and lean muscle, his brother was built like an ox, and when I glanced down at his hands, I wasn't surprised to see them covered in fine little white scars.

  "Daria, I'd like you to meet my brother, Carter," Danton said. His face was unreadable, but I could feel his nerves twitching.

  Carter's face had as much expression as a blank canvas, but when I slid my consciousness toward him, I felt his resentment and irritation bubbling hot. I didn't think those feelings were directed at me.

  I stuck out my hand and smiled at Carter. "Hi, Carter. It's a pleasure."

  He accepted my hand with little warmth. Actually, standing outside right now without a cloak would probably feel warmer.

  "Carter arrived a little over an hour ago," Danton continued, "and I wanted to introduce him to you before everyone arrived."

  "Thanks, I'm glad you did," I said, then turned to Carter, who stared past me, his mind worlds away. He looked so bored I thought he probably wished he was worlds away. "Danton said you live about a three-hour ride from here. Hopefully the weather held for you…?"

  The weather? Seriously, Daria?

  Well…?

  "It didn't." Carter still wasn't looking at me, and he sounded totally put out.

  Danton must've thought so too, because he frowned at Carter. No wonder Lord Commodus Pontefract had shipped Carter off to live with Cora's family. He was a liability to Lord Pontefract's reputation within their social and political circles. Therefore, I immediately wanted to be his friend.