Raoul stood beside me as we stood at the altar, the priest looking as grim as I felt. He’d resisted the wedding mightily, but recanted after I made a sizeable donation. Everyone could be bought.
The music started, and I saw Anna’s mother, face pale, as she walked ahead of Anna, her only attendant. I hadn’t wanted to do the wedding party nonsense, and Anna had said nothing to me about it. I expected that she would neither want to lie to her friends about the circumstances of our marriage, or force her friends to go through the charade, as well.
Then the doors opened, and I turned to see my bride walking through the door on Anthony’s arm. I was utterly stunned for a moment, hit with such a blinding flash of déjà vu that for a moment I forgot where I was.
The picture of Anna in my head had always been the quiet, hoodie-wearing girl who helped her father in his shop, who stayed out of the way and never spoke to me. The woman walking through the massive double doors of the church was a vision.
I had married a human woman once, centuries ago when I was still minor royalty, a member of another minor noble house. She had died very soon after our wedding, and though time had blurred the memories, I still longed for her from time to time. I had truly loved her. For a stunned second, I thought I was there, in that Russian church, watching Katerina walk down the aisle.
Anna was wearing an antique lace gown, her face covered with a soft, gauzy veil that trailed down her back and swept behind her. The rubies I had given her and the engagement ring glowed in the light of the hundreds of candles lit in the church, and I swallowed visibly. Not even Katerina had been so beautiful, so ethereal. I heard Raoul clear his throat behind me, and I didn’t know if it was displeasure at my reaction or if he too was overwhelmed by her. I didn’t care. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
And then she was at my arm, her father placing her hand in mine, and the betrayal I saw in Anthony’s face immediately killed the sense of euphoria I’d had upon seeing Anna. The cold reality of why this marriage was happening settled in again, and I set my jaw, turning to face the priest.
I heard the vows being said, but all I could focus on was Anna’s face. I saw her clearly, so close to me. She seemed older than the girl I remembered. Her face was pale, her red-stained lips trembling as she listened to the priest. Her eyes were brown, shimmering, and I was suddenly seized with a desire to touch her face, to assure her that I meant her no harm. That I wouldn’t hurt her.
But of course I was hurting her, in this very moment. I was binding her to me, without love or affection. But I felt I had no choice, unless I was to cause her even greater pain by taking away her father.
I said my vows clearly and with certainty, and I was startled to hear Anna say hers in an equally calm and clear voice, with only the vaguest hint of a tremor. It impressed me, the backbone of this girl, to follow through on my demands and promise herself to me without any sign of fear.
“What God has joined together, let no man cast asunder,” the priest intoned. “Dimtri Sergeyevich, you may kiss your bride.”
She didn’t move. I took the hem of her veil, lifting the delicate material over her face. It glowed in the candlelight, and her eyes caught mine, her lips parting ever so slightly. I leaned towards her, caught in some emotion I couldn’t name. Perhaps it was only the centuries-old memory of Katerina, staring up at me in a church very like this one, waiting for my kiss.
Or perhaps it was the defiant look in Anna’s eyes, as if she dared me to do anything more to her than I had already done.
I leaned down, pressing my cool lips chastely against hers. I felt her stiffen slightly at my touch, and I expected that no one had warned her that I would not be as warm as she was used to, even when I’d recently fed. And I had forgotten to feed before we left, an oversight I now regretted. I knew it would seem thoughtless on my part.
I pulled away, and reached for her hand, turning to face the nearly empty church. Only Anna’s parents, Raoul, and a few of my closest confidantes were here to witness the marriage. The reception would be a different matter altogether, packed with as many of my business associates and acquaintances as I could invite. For the barest second, I thought I felt her fingers curl around mine, but if they did, it was only for a moment, and then her hand was lax in mine again.
---
She didn’t acknowledge me as she slid into the car, nodding briefly at the driver as he held open the door for her. Raoul was riding in the other car, whether because he understood that I had to keep appearances with my new bride or because he was angry, I didn’t know. I couldn’t think of it just now. I had to get through the rest of the evening.
Anna tucked the train of her dress under her legs, her veil pooling on the black leather seat between us. She tugged the comb out of her hair, leaving a pile of gauze on the seat. She ran her fingers over the space where it had been, smoothing the strands back. Her hair was shining, glinting in the streetlights as we pulled out onto the street, and I had a sudden urge to touch it. I resisted, balling my fist against her leg. I had made Anthony and Anna both a promise, and Raoul too, for that matter. I would not touch her. Not unless she begged me for it. And that, I knew, she never would.
Chapter 4: Anna
I could feel the distance between us as the car pulled out onto the street. It was inches, but it felt like an insurmountable chasm. I took a deep breath, looking down at my hands folded in my lap. An antiqued gold band was on my finger, nestled against the diamond Dimitri had given me. It was a distant fear no longer…I was Dimitri’s wife. There was no going back.
I thought about the kiss in the church, the gentle way his lips had brushed over mine. I’d been startled, walking down the aisle towards him, by how handsome he was. I’d seen him in my father’s shop from time to time, but I’d never bothered to really look at him. But how he’d looked, standing at the altar, surrounded by hundreds of candles, dressed in his suit—I couldn’t think of any man I’d ever seen who was more handsome. And I couldn’t deny it, for a moment when he’d leaned towards me, lifting my veil, I’d felt my heart flutter at how close he was to me. I’d forgotten, for a second, that he was a man who had blackmailed me into marrying him, that he had my father’s life in his hands. I’d only seen how devastatingly handsome he was, the scent of his cologne—vanilla and burned wood—and his fingers brushing against my cheek as he lifted my veil. For a moment, I was a woman in lace and jewels, in a cathedral surrounded by candlelight, and a man who looked like a god was about to kiss me.
And then the moment had passed, and I remembered who I was, and who he was, and I had never felt more ashamed.
So I stared out of the car window now at the swirling snow, refusing to look at him, even though I could feel him looking at me. I would have to look at him very soon, at the reception, and play the part of the blushing bride. But I couldn’t do it just now.
The irony of it all was that if I had ever dreamed of a wedding day, I would have been hard-pressed to come up with anything more like a fairy-tale. He’d created a night straight out of a dream, right down to the graceful snow falling from the sky. Not a detail had been missing—except for love. And a willing bride.
He’d rented out one of the finest restaurants in Manhattan for the reception, and as we walked in hand in hand, I heard the cheers and calls of hundreds of people I didn’t know. There was a handful of people here for me—friends of my parents, and business associates of both my father and Dimitri. I had invited a few of my friends, unable to think of an excuse as to why I couldn’t, but none of them had come. I hadn’t heard from any of them in weeks. I knew none of them believed the story of my whirlwind romance with Dimitri—they knew me too well—and they couldn’t imagine any other reason for the sudden wedding. So instead of trying to puzzle it out, they simply faded away.
Somehow, I made it through the dinner and the toasts, a smile forced onto my face. I barely touched my food, laughing along with every joke by some business associate, repeating the fiction about our sudden ro
mance. Before I knew it, the band started a new song, heavy on the string instruments, and a sudden hush fell over the room.
“Well, darling, that’s our cue,” Dimitri said, his mouth quirking up in a half-smile, and he reached for my hand.
I’d seen him laugh and smile with dozens of people all evening, but that was the first time he’d smiled at me. It made my heart flutter again, created a sudden hollow feeling in my stomach. Tentatively, I took his hand, and let him draw me onto the dance floor.
I’d learned to dance as a child, standing on my father’s toes as he turned me around and around the living room. We’d practiced before my first prom, too—I’d been a surly teenager, inwardly laughing at my father as he taught me steps that were nothing like the dances teenagers did. Now, as I stepped onto the dance floor with Dimitri, I was grateful for the dance steps I’d learned from him that let me slide smoothly into the waltz, held gracefully between Dimitri’s hands. I fought to keep my eyes from welling up with tears. I knew Dimitri would notice, and I didn’t want to have to explain myself.
We spun around the floor, and I let myself be soothed by the familiar steps, by the rise and fall of the instruments. I could see the admiration in Dimitri’s eyes as I let him lead me through the dance, matching his steps perfectly. At the end, as we came to a stop in the middle of the floor to cheers and applause, I knew what he would do before he did it. I wasn’t surprised that his fingers curled gently around the back of my head, or that he bent his head, dipping me back gently as his mouth brushed over mine. I was prepared for it, ready to feel nothing.
But I did feel something. I didn’t want to, but the moment his lips touched mine, cool and dry as they were, I felt a rush of heat. I could feel my face and chest flushing, and a sudden, unwanted urge to press myself against him, to part my lips and melt into the kiss. I stiffened, fighting the desire, and I immediately felt him pull back, straightening back into the formality he’d had the entire day, with the exception of that first kiss, at the altar. It made my feelings towards him soften a little. He was, as he’d promised, careful with me. It didn’t fix what had happened, but it did make me feel slightly more conciliatory.
The next song started, and Dimitri released me to my father for our dance. It was nearly impossible, this time, to keep my eyes from welling up with tears. “Are you okay, Anna?” he whispered as he guided me around the dance floor. “I can’t begin to say how…”
I shook my head discreetly before he could say anything else. “There’s nothing to be gained from going back over it,” I said, as firmly as I could muster. “What’s done is done. I’ll do my best to be happy.”
“Dimtri will take care of you,” my father insisted. “I know it isn’t what you wanted, but he won’t hurt you.”
I said nothing. I knew that it was the only small comfort my father still had, the knowledge that Dimitri wouldn’t harm me physically. The emotional damage was done.
As the song ended and I turned to head back to the sweetheart’s table, I caught the eye of a man sitting at the table just behind ours. I recognized him as Dimitri’s best man, although I had been too overwhelmed at the church to do much more than just get through, moment by moment. I hadn’t really looked at him. He was eyeing me now, with a strange mixture of distaste and something that seemed very much like lust, but it was nearly predatory.
I was certain that he was a vampire. I had never met one other than Dimitri, but there was something about his face and the way he held himself that was so very like Dimitri that I couldn’t imagine he was anything else. His face was fresh and youthful, but it was as if time had settled onto it somehow, hardening it. I met his eyes, and I expected him to look away, embarrassed that I’d caught him staring. But he didn’t.
I felt a rush of sensation over my skin, the hairs on my arms prickling. I looked at him carefully, wondering if I might see him again. He was handsome in a classical sort of way. Dimitri was dark and forbidding, with a narrow, sharp jawline and high cheekbones, handsome in a way that was almost fearsome. This man had softer features, still angular but slightly more rounded, more approachable. His eyes were a deep blue, and his hair was dark blond, slicked back. He looked utterly polished, as if he belonged in a New York boardroom, directing a conference. I felt an unwelcome sensation as his gaze followed me, a nervous excitement.
He didn’t stop looking at me until I sat down at the table next to Dimitri. I turned away, ignoring him. Whoever he was, I hoped I wouldn’t see him again soon, if ever.
---
I was quiet as we rode in the car to Dimitri’s home—my home now, too. I was so nervous that I felt nauseous, unsure of how the rest of the night would go. I was sure that Dimitri would keep his promise, and not touch me unless I asked him to—which I had no intention of doing. Still, the idea of sleeping in the same house with him made my stomach knot.
The car pulled up in front of his—our—home far too quickly. The driver came around and helped me out, and I looked up at the place where I would live now. I wasn’t sure exactly what I had expected—a castle with gargoyles, maybe. It was an old building, for sure, in one of the historic districts, made of brick and stone, with arched windows. I followed Dimitri through the doors, into the foyer. He walked around behind me to take my coat, and I caught my breath slightly as his fingers grazed over my shoulders. I hated him, I did. But it had been a long day and he had kissed me twice, and I was only a human, after all.
I looked around, my eyes wide. It was decorated much like I had expected. The walls were brick and stone, like the outside, with exposed rafters along the high ceilings. The hardwood floors were covered here and there with rugs that looked faded but were likely incredibly expensive, and the furniture was all heavy and upholstered in brocade and velvet. There were velvet drapes at the windows of the living area, and a heavy iron and wood spiral staircase to my left.
Dimitri touched my wrist gently as he returned and faced me. “I will give you a more complete tour some other time, as I’m sure you’re very tired. This is the casual living area, and straight ahead are the kitchens. Downstairs are the servants’ rooms, and to the left is a study where I take visitors. The study is locked when I am not there and if you need me for any reason, I would prefer that you send a servant to find me rather than coming in yourself. Upstairs is the library and two suites of rooms, one of which is yours. The floor above is a parlor and other guest suites. If your rooms are not to your liking, you are free to look around the guest floor and see if there is another suite you would prefer.” He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away. He inclined his head, and for a moment, his genteel expression slipped, and he looked utterly exhausted. “Follow me, Anna, and I will show you your rooms.”
I reached for the skirt of my dress, gathering up the long train in my hand so I wouldn’t trip on it. At second thought, I slipped off my heels as well and held them. The polished wood of the staircase was joltingly cold on my toes as I followed Dimitri up the staircase, and I wondered how the heating was in this building. Now that my coat was gone, I was starting to feel a bit chilled.
When we reached the landing, he gestured to the left. “That way is my suite. Just down the hall is the library, and to the right are your rooms.” I followed him, and he pushed open the heavy mahogany door.
There was a wide entryway, with a tightly woven velvet rug over the wooden floor. I heard a crackling as we walked into the expansive room, and I suppressed a small gasp. The bedroom was huge. A four-poster with a canopy and velvet bedding was along one wall, and directly opposing it was a massive stone fireplace. There were bookcases along one wall and iron bars screwed into the stone wall, with my clothing neatly hung. To one side of the bars was a huge wardrobe, where I suspected the rest of my clothing and shoes probably were. The windows were hung with velvet drapes matching the bedding, and to the right I saw an archway that led to the bathroom. I couldn’t see much of it, but there was a massive claw-foot tub in my line of sight. There was another door just past t
he bed. “Where does that go?” I asked, unable to help myself, despite how little I wanted to talk to Dimitri. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of it.
“There is a small sitting room that way, with a desk and couches where you can entertain guests if you like. There is a fireplace in there as well.” His mouth was twitching slightly, and I knew immediately that he knew how awed I was by all of it. It irritated me immensely.
“Thank you for showing me up,” I said as stiffly as possible. “Good night, Dimitri.”
“If you look in the wardrobe, there will be some new items for you that you may enjoy.” He paused for a second, and then inclined his head again. “Good night, Anna.”
He’d barely stepped away when I realized suddenly that I was still in my wedding dress, and I hadn’t the slightest idea how I would manage to unbutton the hundreds of tiny buttons on my own. “Dimitri,” I called, trying to sound casual. “Is there, er…is there anyone who might be able to help me with my dress?” I cursed myself inwardly for not thinking to have my mother help me change before I left the reception.
“The servants are all asleep by now, but you can certainly ring for your maid if you like.”
“I…I have a maid?”
“To keep your room clean and assist with laundry and any errands you might have, yes.”
I hesitated, feeling a powerful wave of guilt at the thought of waking up my maid, whoever she might be, to come up and help me undress. I heard Dimitri speak, a soft chuckle in his voice.
“If you’ll allow me, Anna, I can help you.”
I wondered if it was a sort of olive branch on his part, or if he simply wanted to undress me. I supposed it could be both. I felt a small stir of wickedness at the idea of letting him see me half-naked, knowing he wouldn’t be allowed to touch me further. I wanted to toy with him, suddenly, to make him as miserable as I felt.
Bears of Burden: WYATT Page 15
