The problem with these dreams was that they felt like no dreams she had ever had. These were not things her mind created. It felt foreign, as if they were imposed on her. As if someone else's mind was creating these nightmares for her. And Heinrich had been the villain. There was no doubt there. The hatred in his eyes. He was the one who had set her on fire, the one who all the others took their direction from. It was he that had condemned and burned her.
Scratching her head, she looked down where her toes were peeking out from under her skirt.
What did all this mean? It felt as though it had meaning, one she didn't understand—or didn't want to understand. Was this her mind concocting horrid scenarios of him being responsible for the deaths of his previous brides? Or was this something else?
If those women's deaths weren't natural, then it meant someone or something had killed them. The curse people around here believed in said it was Heinrich. Obviously, such things were ridiculous and ought to be outright dismissed. But then these horrible dreams she was trapped in. It wasn't the first time she had dreamt it either.
"Oh, there you are," the cook said, appearing at Aldine's side. A large woman with a round belly covered by a white apron. Her white cap had an edge of lace on it. "Lady Wilhelmina is looking for you."
Aldine didn't watch herself enough to suppress the groan and then blushed.
"There now. It's not so bad. No one needs to know you have been found. You just sit a while and we won't tell anyone where you are. Lady Wilhelmina can be a bit forceful. Insists on a strong hand after…" The woman drifted off and bent over one of the herb rows, picking off tarragon leaves. "Don't like hysterics, that's all."
"Hysterics?" Aldine said, unsure if she felt offended. She'd never suffered from hysterics. Wanting a moment of fresh air and peace was hardly hysterics, was it? "What do you mean?"
The woman looked over with wide eyes as if she'd been caught saying something she shouldn't. "Nothing," she said with a placating smile.
"No, please tell me," Aldine pressed. "I am struggling to understand what Wilhelmina wants from me."
"I shouldn't talk," the woman said pleadingly. "Things a new bride shouldn't know."
"Please. I know about the other brides, and I am guessing you are referring to one of them being hysterical."
Quietly, the woman picked some more leaves. "One of the previous," she said quietly so Aldine could barely hear, "at times got hysterical. Kept saying the bed was on fire."
Painful tension rose up Aldine's spine and her arms broke out in goosebumps. Her mouth had gone completely dry as she spoke again. "What did she mean?"
The cook shrugged. "Not all there, that one. Not quite right in the head. Grew more and more hysterical and Wilhelmina tried to guide her. Pretty girl, though. It was such a shame what happened to her."
"What did happen to her?"
"Fever. Come on suddenly, but she hadn't been right for a while. Shot nerves."
"And she said the bed was on fire?"
"Over and over, screamed it one day. Said no one would listen to her."
Aldine blinked, trying to understand what she was hearing. Just the word ‘fire’ sent alarm bells ringing through her head. Although the woman hadn't said she'd dreamt of fire; she'd said the bed was on fire. Perhaps the dreams had affected her as she'd woken, but then Aldine remembered how when she'd first arrived, she'd noted that it had felt starkly warmer closer to the bed than away from it. At the time, she had simply dismissed it as being Heinrich's body heat she had noticed, but the temperature difference had been stark.
Suppressing a gasp, Aldine put her fingers over her lips. The tension up her spine had spread up her neck and into her hair. "She'd had bad dreams," Aldine said.
"I heard whispers of it. They called the doctor to come see to her. Gave her some pills and she calmed down."
And then died, Aldine finished in her head. Blood coursed through her body and Aldine had to rise, had to move. With quick steps, she walked away from the bench and the herb garden, just needing to move.
A curse was a lot harder to ignore if other people had experienced the same thing. Was it the same thing? Had she had the same dreams? What else could a statement like 'the bed is on fire' mean?
Aldine's gut twisted in anguish. This was an indication that all this was more than some simple superstition that should be ignored. There was something here that another had experienced. The belief that these dreams were not something from her own mind solidified now. They were foreign, being imposed on her.
"There you are," Wilhelmina said from the front door. In her anguish, Aldine had walked around the house. "We'd thought we'd do some stitching. Care to join us?" It was a question, but the tone of her voice suggested it was an order. "Not a good day to go for a walk. The weather will turn at any moment."
The last thing Aldine wanted to do was go back in the house, but she couldn't stand out there like a stubborn mule. So she smiled as best she could. It wouldn't serve anyone if she gave into hysterics, even if she felt like it. "Of course," she said, making her voice sound as light and breezy as possible.
*
For a few hours in the afternoon, Aldine got to sleep in her room and she was lost the moment her head hit the pillow. Sitting through hours of embroidery had been painful for her back and fingers, and her tired mind, so sleep was more than welcome, and she slept well. No dreams, no fire—just lovely, refreshing sleep.
Refreshing might not be right, she felt a little groggy and her stomach was still a little upset, but that was perhaps not surprising as she woke with the discomfort from what she had learnt that day again came crashing down on her.
Sitting down at her dressing table, she looked at herself in the mirror. Dark circles had formed under her eyes from lack of sleep and heightened nerves. Footsteps were approaching, but they were too heavy to be Anna’s. Looking over, Aldine waited to see if they passed, but her door opened and Heinrich entered.
"You're back early," she said.
Coming in, he closed the door behind them. "How are you?"
"Better after a nap," she said with a smile, turning fully to face him, but still seated.
"I have asked Doctor Hagen to come call on you."
"That is unnecessary. I am fine."
Moving closer, he sat down on the edge of the bed. "You are not. You are having nightmares at night. Hysterical dreams."
"Hardly hysterical. Simply bad dreams."
"He will give you something to calm you."
"Please Heinrich, I do not want pills and potions."
Sighing, he looked at her and all she kept thinking was if it was normal for there to be such distance between a man and a wife. Not physical distance. They were enjoying the marriage bed, but in other ways, there was distance. But what did she know about marriage—maybe all felt this way. They didn't, after all, know each other.
Aldine watched him for a moment, unsure of what she should uncover of her suspicions. "These dreams are not normal for me," she said. "I have never had nightmares before coming here."
"The forest plays with people's minds—on their fears," he said.
"They feel foreign."
"What are you trying to say?"
"I am not the only one who has had these dreams, am I?"
Rising sharply, he stood tall above her. "Don't be ridiculous. What are you trying to say?"
"Some people think there is a curse."
"There is no such thing as curses, and I am disappointed in you for believing so," he stated.
"I don't," she started, but had to check herself. She couldn't entirely defend the assertion, since learning that the woman previously sharing his bed had had the same type of dreams. "It would help me to learn what Josefina experienced."
"We are not speaking of her or anyone else. It is not right. It is the past and there is no reason to revisit it. Mr. Hagen will come and you will feel better after he attends to you. You will not be hysterical."
Truthfully, an edge of hys
teria was threatening her right then, because the doctor's pills had not saved Josefina. "I am not hysterical," she repeated through gritted teeth, but Heinrich was already walking out the door.
For a moment, Aldine wished she could simply get in a carriage and ride home to Manheim, but this was her home now. Heinrich was her husband and she had no will other than what he gave her.
Chapter 16
THROUGH SUPPER, Aldine appeared as calm as she possibly could. A calmness she didn't feel on the inside, but her husband was about to drug her and that felt very frightening, because it felt as though she needed her wits about her. Something was going on in this house and it was threatening her. The last thing she needed was for her mind to be too foggy to comprehend what was going on around her.
Around the table, people spoke animatedly, laughed and enjoyed the pork they were being served. It was lovely, but Aldine's appetite hadn't fully returned, so she picked at the food, intermittently placing small pieces into her mouth.
Heinrich appeared to be his normal self and Aldine watched him as he spoke or listened. Handsome and intelligent, but what was underneath that exterior? He was the one waking her from her dreams each night; he was the one who had been there when Josefina had believed the bed had been on fire. How could he refuse to see a correlation? Had it been the same for Luise? Had she felt unnatural influences on her sleep as well? Why would he not talk about this?
"Are you alright, my dear?" Wilhelmina asked. The woman never used endearments when the men were absent from the house and Aldine knew the woman's concern was for their benefit.
"Of course," Aldine said. "The pork is wonderful. Very tasty. I will have to compliment the cook tomorrow."
"We all should," Elke said. "We should all appreciate such a skilled presentation too."
With a smile, Aldine waited until the attention was off her and Ludwig started talking about some festival in a nearby town.
After supper, they sat in the salon and the food fueled a second wind for her. A full belly and a congenial environment made her feel a little more at ease. It had been a tumultuous few days. She would be the first to admit it. It felt as though her emotion had been plucked like piano wires.
"Shall we retreat?" Heinrich asked and she nodded. He took her hand as they said goodnight to the others. "How are you?" he asked as they walked up the stairs.
"Well," she said. Had she managed to convince him that she didn't need pills to calm her?
Through the now familiar path, he led her to his bedchamber. They had never spent the night apart since the day they had married. Their nightly rituals had become familiar to her, and familiarity brought comfort, even if she didn't feel as connected to him as she'd expected. It was just that their marriage, their relationship was new—that was all. And there was so much about him she didn't know. Such as if he murdered his brides, a perverse part of her mind stated.
There was a tall dresser with a mirror in his room and she walked over and pulled out the pins holding her hair. Behind her, Heinrich pulled off his shoes and vest. Then he slowly moved over and stood behind her. "I like it when your hair is loose and wild," he said quietly, his fingers stroking along one of her tresses. "It is beautiful."
Compliments were not things he gave readily, so she appreciated it. His fingers lightly traced along her shoulder, sending goosebumps down her arms. There was something very compelling about her husband's touch. Touch had seemed like such a fraught thing as she had transitioned into a woman, but now it was abundant. She was just starting to receive it without tension. It felt like luxury. Leaning over, he kissed the base of her neck. Warm lips teased her skin, and the peaks of her breasts pebbled, rubbing against the hard confines of her stays.
But he moved away to the other side of the room, where his toiletries were and now she only saw the back of him. The broad sweep of his shoulders, the trim waist. How lucky she had been to get such a handsome husband. Looking back at herself, she wondered.
"I don't think your mother likes me," she admitted.
It took him a while to answer. "She is set in her ways and the last few years have been… tumultuous."
Aldine supposed that was one word for it. It was the most he had ever said about what had gone on before her. Quietly, she turned around where she stood and looked at him directly, but he didn't turn to her as he prepared for bed.
"You will grow to like each other. These things take time," he finally said, but there was something in his tone she didn't understand, as if he was saying something to himself that she wasn't supposed to understand. Maybe he simply didn't believe that his mother would come around. She certainly seemed to have an overbearing personality, and that wouldn't simply mellow over time, would it? "She wants what's best for me. All mothers do."
Turning, he caught her watching him, which urged her to continue with her undressing, undoing the small buttons down the side of her dress. Taking it off, she placed it neatly over the back of a chair.
Heinrich moved to help her untie the binds of her stays, releasing her lungs to breath fully. It was the loveliest part of the evening, the sign that the day was truly at an end. She could feel the warmth behind him as he stood close. Again he gently kissed her on the shoulder.
"Things will change when children come," he said. "No one has time for pettiness when there are children in a house."
Walking away, he lay down on the bed as she finished her undressing. There was a new tension in her that hadn't been there before she'd had the dream where he had purposefully been attacking her. The pure hatred in his eyes. It had been an expression she had never seen on him, so how was it that she knew what it looked like? Where had it come from?
Was the man lying in wait in the bed harboring such hatred under a mask? Or was some spirit entering him and performing dastardly deeds?
Utter nonsense, of course, but it was hard to tell that part of her brain that feared dark corners and murderous intent to stop.
Taking a deep breath, she finished her undressing and walked toward the bed and lay down. It didn't feel like it was on fire. In fact, the sheets were cold.
His hand snaked around her neck and brought her lips to his, the kiss deep and passionate. Her body formed to his, welcoming his warmth and the firm body pressed to hers. His hand urged her leg around his hip, bringing them closer. Warming heat built inside her, preparing to receive the full intimacy between a man and a woman.
With his ministrations, her nightgown pulled higher and higher, until most of her was revealed.
Could a man who hated be tender like this? She tried to look in his eyes, but they were lost with glassy desire. There was no doubt he desired her, his eyes roamed her body, until he took a hard nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, his hand kneading the other. It stoked the heat inside her, flaring the desire she was only starting to understand.
Could a man who hated her do lovemaking like this? She wasn't naïve enough to not know that men could lay with women easily and with no attachment—that lust was its own reward. That did not make him guilty of anything.
Fingers teased lower, slipped inside her. Desire flared molten inside her. How could she want him like this if there was that part of her that wasn't assured he meant her no harm? She would know—in her heart, she would know if he meant to hurt her. It was impossible to want someone who meant one harm, wasn't it?
Shifting himself, he pressed his manhood inside her, the feeling of fullness enveloping her. Sensation spread to every part of her body, making her nipples even harder and even her lips tingled. They fit so beautifully and perfectly together. The soft undulations that drove him deeper inside her, until he was fully submerged.
She could not want him like this if he wasn't true, could she? The tension built higher than it ever had before, almost painfully, but she couldn't stop—she needed more. Moans escaped her each time his hips hit home to hers. Everything about her, everything she could conceive of drew back to their joining. It filled the entirety of her. She ha
d no defenses.
The tension culminated and for a moment, she wondered if she was in real trouble, before waves of sheer, exquisite pleasure washed over her. It ripped through her body so forcefully, it felt like she needed to face down a storm. His chest to hers, she held him as tightly as she could, fearing she would be ripped away otherwise. His powerful strokes beat into her as he reached his release, every part of his body tense with effort.
There was nothing polite or mild about this. It was base and compelling, and accessed parts of her she didn't understand. But they had done this together. They were together in this.
Breath was stolen from her body and she couldn't breathe. He pulled away from her. And finally both her blood and her breath slowed, and she truly did feel like her body was burning with heat. It was a pleasant heat, a lulling heat. The warmth of completion. Something had been completed tonight.
But she needed to know if he was there with her, but he was facing away from her, breathing deeply and frantically. He wasn't giving her his eyes, wasn't letting her look into his soul, and she needed to. She only ever had glimpses of it.
"Heinrich," she said through shaky breath.
Looking back at her, she only had his eyes for the briefest moment, before he leaned over and kissed her at the temple. It was a lovely gesture, but she felt it was in lieu of what she really needed.
Now he kissed her shoulder, his fingers entwining with hers. Again a loving gesture. Through gestures and affection, he showed her care, but she still wasn't getting something. Perhaps she was asking too much.
Chapter 17
THE CHURCH WAS ICY cold inside, the weather having turned cold outside too. A warm blanket had covered her legs on the way over, but Aldine wished she could have brought it into the church too. Instead, it sat waiting for her outside, while she froze inside, squeezing her legs tightly together to preserve her heat.
The Cursed Bride Page 8
