Because the prophecy decreed that the wolf would take her maidenhead, Eleta’s virginity had been carefully guarded, but all of her other girlish notions had been methodically destroyed. Her maidenly shyness had been replaced by confidence. Her innocence had been replaced by extensive knowledge related to everything carnal. Unlike other young ladies, she had been encouraged to practice wanton behavior in order to learn how to seduce and entice. Every opportunity was sought for her to flirt with men, so she would have the self assurance needed to appeal to the wolf.
Over the years, Eleta received frequent reports from her informants about the wolf’s habits, preferences, and patterns concerning women. It was crucial that she know how to capture his interest. She would not be alone in her efforts to seduce him. Women literally threw themselves at him, and more often than not, it was reported that he rebuffed their advances. He was highly selective in choosing his bedmates, and he had become even more discerning over the past year or more. It was rumored that he rarely favored the same lady with his attentions for more than one night, and he never dallied with virgins.
In light of his preferences, it was crucial for Eleta to give the appearance of a much more experienced woman if she were going to successfully draw him into her trap. She could not exhibit any maidenly shyness or inhibitions. She had to appear bold and wanton, like the other women who sought the wolf’s favor, in order to lure him from his lair. If he suspected that she was a virgin, he would not take the bait. She had only one chance to fool him, and it was critical that she not show any misgivings when faced with the lustful attentions of an experienced rake. An ill timed gasp or maidenly blush could result in utter failure.
In order to overcome her own natural modesty, Eleta practiced various new techniques to tempt and entice the male attendants around her palace. She set out to see if she could beguile an unsuspecting footman or entice an elderly clerk. On her first few attempts, she blushed with mortification and had to abort the exercise. However with practice, she learned how to inflame a man’s lust with a simple touch and how a single glance could steal a man’s breath. She practiced these skills until they became second nature, and she learned to control her blushes. She never realized how many men’s hopes were dashed as she practiced her lessons.
As Eleta grew more proficient in the art of seduction, her confidence grew apace. Things seemed to be progressing smoothly when word came that would make her mission even more challenging. The queen was informed that for the past three months, the wolf had focused all his attentions on the Lady Gwendolyn. It was expected that he would be offering for her hand in the near future. While he courted her, the wolf had assumed a monkish lifestyle, and he had refused the offers of all other women. Eleta and her advisors worried that it might be harder than they originally thought to lure him into her trap. However, the prophecy had predicted that he would become betrothed prior to their meeting, so Eleta tried not to worry unduly.
As her eighteenth birthday loomed near, it was deemed necessary that a new wardrobe be designed especially for the purpose of seducing the wolf. Every garment had been sewn using styles that would showcase her body for her enemy’s pleasure. Bodices were cut low, some of them barely containing the fullness of her breasts. Although they were designed according to the latest fashion and were no more daring than many worn by the women at her court, they were a far cry from the modest garments Eleta had always worn. In fact, the new garments were so different from her usual clothes, that she felt distinctly uncomfortable when she first began to wear them. However, after a few weeks, she became accustomed to men gawking at her bosom, and she no longer felt so conspicuous.
The lingerie and sleeping garments were more problematic. They were sewn from the sheerest of fabrics, and were designed to bring a man pleasure more than for any practical purposes. The corsets pressed her breasts high but left them bare. There were chemises, robes, and nightgowns that were more like veils to enhance her charms rather than garments to conceal them. They would hide nothing from the wolf, making her appear wanton and willing. Try as she might, she had never completely overcome her natural shyness, and she wasn’t sure how she would find the confidence to wear them once she was alone with the wolf. However, she was determined to perform her duty. She would have to find the courage when the time came.
After years of careful education and diligent practice, Eleta had been transformed into a temptress, a siren who would lure a man to his death. She knew every erogenous area on a man’s body, and she knew how to stimulate them. She knew how to tempt and tease and use her own body to inflame a man’s passion. She knew how to bring a man to his knees, which was exactly what the prophecy had said she would do to the wolf. Eleta had the skills and knowledge she would need to accomplish her goal. However, the idea of using her wiles to trap, seduce and kill a stranger still terrified her.
She knew she would carry out the prophecy despite her qualms, and she had no choice but to succeed. Too many people were dependant on her success, and she would not fail them. Her personal sacrifice and that of the wolf would ensure the future of her people and her country.
A light knock sounded on her chamber door, and she called admittance. Seeing Matilda, her most senior and trusted lady-in-waiting, she gave a sad smile.
“Is it time already?” Eleta asked quietly.
Matilda approached and dropped into a deep curtsy. “Yes, your Majesty. I’ve come to help you dress.”
At Eleta’s nod, Matilda removed the pearl encrusted ball gown and all the layers of undergarments, leaving only the thin silk chemise. Eleta sat before her dressing table, and Matilda patiently removed the pins and combs from her hair. She picked up the brush and met Eleta’s gaze in the mirror as she began to brush her long ebony hair until it shone. Matilda was one of the select few who knew the details about the prophecy, and she began to review the details of their plan.
“Sir Eric and your guardsmen are gathered in the courtyard, ma’am. All is in readiness for your journey.”
Eleta sighed. “We can depart within the hour. With luck, we should be able to capture the wolf and reach the mountain lodge before the heaviest snows begin to fall.” Mentally reviewing all the steps of the plan, she asked “Is everything prepared at the royal lodge? I want no one present to witness my…,” she swallowed hard, “…my seduction of the wolf…and everything that must come afterward. It would be too humiliating.”
Eleta couldn’t suppress a tiny shudder. She had chosen to take the wolf to the very isolated royal lodge which was nestled high in the northern part of the country. Few people even knew of the lodge’s existence, and there, she would be assured of privacy. It was bad enough that Eleta would have to abandon her scruples and play the part of whore to seduce her adversary. She had no intention of doing so in the presence of servants who might later spread the tale. However, her ultimate fall from grace would be when she murdered her unsuspecting victim. She wanted as few people as possible to know about that terrible act. The scroll and its secrets had been carefully guarded for over two hundred years to protect her and to ensure she was able to fulfill the prophecy. Only a handful of her most trusted advisors and attendants, including Matilda and Sir Eric, the commander of her guardsmen, knew the terrible things Eleta would be forced to do. Eleta very much wanted to keep it that way. The remote lodge was perfect for her purposes.
Matilda’s frown made it obvious she was unhappy with that part of her queen’s plan. “Your Majesty, wouldn’t you like me to come with you? That way, I could at least clean for you and prepare your meals. It is not right that you should do those menial tasks. Please let me come and help you.”
“No,” Eleta said firmly. She gave Matilda a small smile to soften her refusal. “I appreciate your offer, but this is something I must do on my own. I am quite certain that with the provisions you have made, I will be able to handle the rest.”
“But you may need someone to style your hair and help you dress, ma’am.
Again, Eleta shook he
r head. “I will wear my hair mostly down or in simple styles that I can do myself, and my new clothes were designed so that I could get dressed without any assistance. I will be fine.”
Matilda pressed further, worried for her queen. “But wouldn’t it be better for a few of the guards to remain with you, ma’am? What if the wolf should become violent?”
“He won’t,” Eleta murmured with confidence. “Veda’s predictions have been right about everything else. There is no reason to think the wolf will harm me. It specifically states that he will ‘pluck my maidenhead’ and ‘wallow in my royal bed’. He isn’t going to harm me, unless you consider taking my virginity and impregnating me to be harming me. Unfortunately, those acts are necessary steps toward fulfilling the prophecy.”
“Of course, ma’am,” Matilda said with a blush and a nod, although she didn’t look happy about the queen’s decision. “All your meals will be prepared and waiting for you at the cabin. You need only to heat them. Your guards know their role. They will deliver you to the retreat, and then you should be left to accomplish your…tasks…without any interference from others. The guards will remain camped on a distant hill and will await your signal. Then, they will return to escort you home.”
Eleta shivered at the reminder that she would be alone with the wolf for an entire week. That was the time prescribed by the prophecy to ensure that she conceived a child. She supposed it made sense. Any shorter would be risky and any longer would be unnecessary. Eleta released another heavy sigh. The thought of giving her body to some stranger for a week filled her with dread. She could only hope that she would be able to love and nurture the child they were to conceive. She never doubted that she would, in fact, conceive the wolf’s child. Like everything else about the prophecy, even her monthly cycles had aligned with the timing of events. She knew she would be fertile during her stay at the royal lodge.
Thoughts of her future offspring, prompted more concerns. “What about my betrothed, the Duke of Livius? Once I am with child, we must proceed with the wedding with all due haste.”
At the mention of the duke Matilda brightened and smiled at her in the mirror. “Yes, your Majesty. He is settling in to his temporary quarters in the guest wing, just as you requested. All the arrangements have been made. The wedding should proceed smoothly, very shortly after you return.” Matilda met the queen’s eye. “The duke is quite handsome, ma’am. I’m certain he will make you very happy indeed.”
“I suppose so,” Eleta mumbled without conviction.
Eleta grimaced slightly as she retrieved a tiny painting from the drawer in her dressing table. The likeness of the Duke of Livius, her soon-to-be husband, had been rendered in detail. She supposed he was handsome, with golden hair and blue eyes, although he did not really hold any attraction for her. Eleta thought he looked rather conceited, and his likeness did not inspire any emotion in her other than cool detachment. On the few occasions they had been together, the duke’s fawning attentions had left her feeling slightly claustrophobic. She looked forward to her wedding night with almost as much dread as she felt about seducing the wolf. Still, since her betrothed was fated to be her husband and the father of all but one of her children, Eleta hoped she would eventually grow to like him or even love him. Regardless, if she had to endure a lifetime in an unhappy marriage, she supposed that was small enough punishment for the terrible acts she was about to commit.
Eleta shrugged slightly, “I just feel guilty that when we marry, I shall already be carrying the child of his enemy. Hopefully, he will never know.”
Matilda could provide no reassurance for the queen, so she remained mute while she braided her hair and wound it into an intricate crown, pinning the thick braids carefully. She helped her queen dress in a warm and comfortable travelling gown. The gown was made of black velvet, and it covered her modestly from throat to wrists. Eleta took comfort in the fact that she would not need to don any of the more revealing garments until she reached the wolf’s lair. Her hair was tucked into a wide brimmed black hat that fit snugly over her braids. A black veil could be pulled down to cover her delicate features and mask her alabaster skin. It looked as if she were in mourning, which was exactly how she felt. She hoped she would be able to travel without people recognizing her.
When she was finished dressing the queen, Matilda stood back and gave her a wide smile of encouragement. “Finally, ma’am! You are ready.”
Eleta looked at herself once more in the mirror, noticing the paleness of her cheeks and the dark shadows beneath her eyes. “I hope so, Matilda. For all our sakes, I hope so.”
Eleta tucked the scroll into the pocket of her dress. She allowed Matilda to drape a heavy, fur lined cloak around her shoulders and fasten it beneath her chin. She gave Matilda a nod of gratitude. Then, without another word, Eleta gathered her black leather gloves and walked briskly out of the palace.
A dozen of her most trusted guardsmen were waiting for her in the courtyard. Sir Eric, the commander of the guards bowed deeply to his queen and held the door of her coach open for her. All markings that indicated it was a royal conveyance had been removed, and the guardsmen were dressed in uniforms as if they were privately employed soldiers. Hopefully, anyone they encountered on the journey would merely think she was a wealthy traveller and not realize that she was the queen.
As the guardsmen mounted their horses and the queen’s small entourage began their journey, Eleta looked up into the night sky. She noticed that snow had begun falling, and the world outside the coach windows looked more cold and forbidding than ever before. She shivered, wondering whether she would ever feel warm again.
Chapter Three
Castle Argyle, Eastern Aglaia
Rafe Sinclair, the eighth Duke of Argyle, and known to all as the Wolf of the East, sat watching the festivities in his castle with a brooding frown. He had many causes to celebrate. His lands were prosperous and well defended. He was wealthy beyond imagining. He was devilishly handsome. It was time for the annual boar hunt, which was one of his favorite events of the year. And what should have pleased him the most, he had proposed marriage to the Lady Gwendolyn, and she had accepted his suit. The banquet to celebrate the next day’s hunt and the couple’s betrothal was in full swing. Nonetheless, Rafe sipped his wine morosely as he cast frequent glances around the hall. He could not overcome his roiling discontent.
He knew the source of his unhappiness. He did not really want to wed, because he had not found a woman he could love. Rafe knew that his dream of finding love was unusual among men. It was usually members of the opposite gender who strove for that ideal. However, he didn’t care if his quest for love was unusual. Since he was a young man, Rafe had been looking for his one true mate without success. He had been determined not to marry until he found her.
Thus, Rafe had resisted marriage for as long as he possibly could. While he searched for the ultimate woman, he enjoyed his freedom, and he certainly enjoyed the many ladies who had shared his bed along the way. However, not one of them had ever stirred any deep emotion or held his interest for very long.
Women found Rafe irresistible, and he rarely had any difficulty coaxing them into his arms. His hair was black and close cropped. His eyes were vibrant green and deep set beneath black winged brows. His nose, mouth and cheekbones bore the sculpted lines of nobility. His body was that of a seasoned soldier, solid and strong. His various scars and battle wounds only added to his masculine appeal. He had broken many a heart with his wickedly handsome looks, but he was neither cruel nor uncaring to members of the fairer sex.
In recent years, Rafe had grown increasingly bored with the monotony and pointlessness of his various liaisons. He sometimes enjoyed the challenge of seducing a beautiful woman, but once the conquest had been completed, he felt more hollow and disappointed than before. He never liked to tarry. He preferred to move on before the woman began to make increasingly cloying demands for his affection. Their tearful declarations and pleas for his love left him weary and wary
. He knew he could not offer what they wanted. No woman had ever stirred him to feel anything other than lust, and even that was felt only briefly. The last thing he wanted was to be tied to one woman for life if he did not love her.
With a self-effacing snort, Rafe wondered why he even cared about love. No other men of his acquaintance cared about such sentimental nonsense. Rafe wasn’t even sure what love was supposed to feel like, other than the descriptions found in romantic fairy tales, songs and poetry. It was probably just a myth, a useless and elusive ideal that could never truly be found. He really didn’t understand why the idea of a loving marriage was so appealing to him, but it was nonetheless.
Perhaps it was because Rafe had never really experienced love in his own life. He had never even witnessed love between a man and woman before. His parents had certainly not loved each other. His father had viewed his mother as little more than a broodmare. Her sole purpose was to provide him with sons. Unfortunately, giving birth to Rafe had been so difficult it had left his mother unable to conceive again. Her husband showed no further interest in her after that. Her husband’s indifference had been fine with Rafe’s mother. She did not love him either, and she wanted nothing from him other than the status and luxurious lifestyle that his wealth and title could provide for her.
The Fall of The Wolf (Historical Romance) Page 3
