The Virgin Widow

by Lillith Payne

  Rather out of polite society rules, she turned and moved to the first person on her right. “Good evening, I'm Serena and you would be?” The large older man took her hand and lightly pressed it to his lips while telling her his name. She continued around the room, leaving the woman beside Zane for last. It was a slight, and a big one. At court, she would have been berated for it; here on Trahorn land, she wondered what the result would be. Instinct told her this woman would be a problem to her in the future. The duke took her hand and presented her to the countess.

  "Serena, this is Fiona Huxley, Countess Huxley.” Neither woman moved nor made to curtsey as was the custom; instead, Serena wrapped her fingers more tightly around the duke's arm.

  "Countess, what a lovely gown,” she said, eyeing the woman with disdain, trying to hold back all the animosity she instantly felt. The countess looked more bride-like than Serena herself. The white silk gown was layered with lace and pearls, jewels in tiers around her throat and fingers. Her wrist was heavy with several jeweled bracelets.

  "Yes, you're a bit plain, aren't you? But then, beauty is God-given; some of us are lucky and some not.” Everyone in the room stopped as an audible gasp wafted through the air while they waited for Serena to reply.

  "Plain, but sturdy, I assure you. As to God-given assets, I'll have to stick with my wit and knowledge to get by on.” It was a stand-off. Serena took the notion the countess was expecting a different sort of woman.

  "Poor Zane,” Fiona started. “She's a bit mouthy, isn't she?"

  "Countess, I'd prefer you not talk about me as if I'm a petulant child. Especially when I'm in the room.” Serena felt the muscle in Zane's arm tighten under her grasp. “Shall we? It's apparent the countess is in need of a meal to set her mood right."

  With all the grace she could muster, Serena stood tall and silently thanked God when Zane said nothing, but led her from the room, through the halls and to a private chapel in the east wing.

  The service was short and Serena tried not to show her disappointment when the duke didn't kiss her as was the custom. But she had to remember this was an arranged marriage, not a love match.

  In reality, she need not have married again but her greedy step-brother, William, made sure that became impossible. And now through his wrangling, he held title to the small home and lands that were supposed to be hers to live on alone until she died. His greed had taken new heights when he managed this arrangement.

  "Finally, now we can eat!” A deafening silence settled until Fiona smiled at her own joke. “I dare say you'll train her to have better manners in the future."

  If the woman had slapped Serena across the face the insult would have been less than what she actually did. Stepping forward, she kissed Duke Zane Trahorn on the mouth, a lingering kiss, and Serena felt her insides start to churn. The sly smile Fiona gave Serena after the kiss effectively twisted the knife. She noticed a small birthmark near his lips and, driven by Fiona's words, turned to touch her finger lightly to the mark, choosing to lean up and kiss his cheek, refusing to touch where the other woman had.

  "I believe our guests are restless, my husband.” No one said a word; rather they all waited for the fight to begin. Instead, Serena smiled sweetly and pushed past the countess. Taking the priest's arm, she added, “Shall we lead the guests to the feast?” With a short smile, the priest covered her hand with his and directed her from the chapel. There was a small amount of coughing and foot shuffling before the rest of the guests followed. With only one backward glance, she noted Fiona on Zane's arm. He shook her off to rub his temples.

  Finally seated at the table, Fiona on one side of Zane and Serena on the other, she made sure the priest sat beside her; at least he seemed willing to speak with her. While the first course was being served, the countess decided to take a stand.

  "So inconsiderate of your bride, dear. You're getting one of your headaches. I can only believe it was brought on by having to wait endlessly for her."

  It was the way she said the word ‘bride', as if it had a different meaning to the countess. Serena froze, but the priest beside her saved her from saying the words she wanted to. Even with her normally short temper, she knew better than to confront this woman without knowing more about her and about her relationship with the duke. With a nod he started to speak.

  "Seems it couldn't be helped.” He rambled on about the terrible weather and all the roads being miserable to travel.

  "That's why I'm so glad to be staying; I'm not looking forward to the ride home in such damp conditions.” Fiona's smirk wasn't lost on anyone at the table."It could be several weeks before the rain lets up and the road dries out.” While Serena figured the priest was trying to help, he was only facilitating the situation Fiona was creating.

  "I'll just have to make myself comfortable here. It might be for the best; I could give Zane's new bride some lessons on how a castle and keep should be run.” It was a dare and the silence at the table couldn't be missed.

  Only Zane reaching out with his right hand covering Serena's stopped her from letting her words fly. Just who was this woman and what hold did she have over her new husband? He nodded his head, acknowledging her silence. While the next course was served, the conversation started again.

  Serena noticed Fiona keeping Zane's cup full. No wonder he had a headache, she decided after tasting the mead. It was too sweet for her taste. She would have asked for wine but felt a better time would appoint itself when she could make her personal likes known. When she finally managed to get down a few bites of game, she almost choked on the last one, hearing Fiona's next taunt.

  "Is it true you've buried three husbands in your ... young lifetime?” Her voice was light and teasing but anyone listening, including Hilda and DeVore from the side, knew a challenge. “You'd better be careful, Zane, dear, you don't want to become number four!"

  Serena laughed first, raising her glass to Fiona. “Well, I knew the subject would come up; best to clear the air, don't you think, Countess? After all, that was the point of your question, or it would have just been a rude statement."

  Zane choked on his mead and Serena patted him on the back lightly while looking past him to see the fair Fiona pale further. “You seem to know a lot about my past. Maybe one day you'll treat me to the history of your family and your life."

  As the two women stared at each other, Serena continued in a loud and clear voice. “Actually you're incorrect.” She saw Fiona stiffen and continued. “My first husband did die on our wedding day. It seems he had a weak heart that was unknown to anyone.” She let that tidbit settle while DeVore came forward and quietly placed a mug of hot tea before her. Thanking him with a smile, she went on. “Ellis Grayson was my first love; we met as children and the marriage was arranged then. It was truly a loss not to have been able to spend our days as husband and wife. But the gods had other ideas."

  She waited while the priest said several short prayers. “My second husband was Lyndell Hutton. Being from so far away, I doubt you'd know the name."

  "I do; he was a soldier of some distinction, wasn't he?” Serena guessed he might have known Lyndell at one time in the past. He'd mentioned earlier he'd spent some time in Cambridge.

  "Yes, he was, and quite a jokester when provoked. One of the guests at our wedding feast dared him to jump from the balcony to the center hall candelabra.” She let her words die there, letting them all picture what everyone else watched that night. “If he hadn't been drunk he never would have taken the taunt, but he was and he missed and he died on the floor of the main hall, the candles swinging awkwardly from the disturbance in the air around it.” Before she could continue, Fiona broke in.

  "That's right; I remember hearing about it at court a few years back."

  "Yes, I remember too,” someone else added. “A shame; from what I was told, it was a trick he'd learned as a youngster. He could do it with ease; I dare say he sent the hearts of a few governesses aflight when he was a lad."

  "I quite agree,”
someone else added.

  Fiona raised her glass to her lips but only wetted them before speaking. “I heard Lord Tamson divorced you. Barren, I believe was the reason, isn't that right, Serena?"

  "It's true we were not blessed with children during our marriage.” She hoped to drop the subject there but Fiona wouldn't let it die. Serena realized it would be better to get it out in the open now, while she could correct some of the gossip. While she figured they'd rather believe their versions, it was in her heart to clear her name. Embarrassed as she was, she knew her skin had turned bright red beneath her silvery gown.

  "But then,” Fiona said, “he was older and didn't want to waste any more years on a barren girl. Who can blame him? He needed an heir and you obviously weren't going to give him one."

  "Not during the time we had together.” Taking her tea to her lips, Serena didn't add it was prearranged and only her brother William's meddling forced her planned future to blow up in her face. “Orson and I, Lord Tamson, had agreed before the marriage that two years would be a reasonable time to conceive. I suppose we don't know what would have happened if we'd had more time, but we didn't.” Let it drop there, Serena prayed.

  "So you are barren, then. Such a shame for Zane, all of this will end up being his cousin's one day.” With both hands she gestured to the castle in general. Everyone in the room knew, but didn't verbalize, that Serena would be out of a home, again.

  "Really, and which of our guests is your cousin? I didn't make the correlation when the introductions were made. I should think I'd better befriend him, don't you, Countess, just to keep my future intact?"

  The priest let out a strangled groan and several people coughed. Neither Fiona nor Serena lost eye contact. Serena knew there was more to this whole situation than she'd ever begun to imagine. Beyond malice, she saw absolute hatred in Fiona's expression.

  "None of them. Derek is away in London just now.” Zane's voice was flat. “A shame he should miss our wedding.” Continuing to sip her tea, she answered questions about her childhood and was engaged in a lengthy conversation about horses and riding before they were again interrupted by Fiona.

  "Still, Derek will undoubtedly inherit; let's hope you make a favorable impression on him, lest he set you out when Zane's time comes."

  Reinforcing the point only made Serena angrier and she realized that was what the other woman was trying for. If she lost her temper at the wedding feast, she'd have no reputation left at all. Staying calm, while difficult to say the least, had to remain Serena's main concern. She could lose her temper later, in private, when she had a long talk about this whole situation with her new husband.

  "I'd prefer not to think about limiting the time I have with my husband, Countess. And as I'm sure you know, it takes two to make an heir. Perhaps Zane and I will have better blessings in that direction."

  There was no uncertainty about her words, it was a dead challenge. She planned on sleeping with Zane and knew Fiona would be offended. Now she knew why. Fiona was in love with Zane, or had been, and seeing him happy made Fiona completely unhappy. With a passing thought, she wondered what relationship the woman had with Zane's cousin, Derek, and wondered how she could come by the information.

  "Indeed."

  "Count Huxley isn't with us tonight; is there a reason? I mean, I hope his health is not at jeopardy?” Her voice sounded so sweet but all listening knew the contempt behind it.

  "The count has business at our own holdings and couldn't get away."

  "What a shame; maybe the next time you visit you'll bring him with you."

  "Perhaps.” Fiona refilled her cup with mead and topped off Zane's. He put his hand out to stop her but she filled it anyway. “You know I hate to drink alone, dear."

  Reluctantly, everyone watched him take the cup to his lips and swallow the sweet concoction. With an odd smile at Serena, Fiona started talking about parties and people Serena had no knowledge of. It was clear that was exactly her purpose, for soon everyone was talking and laughing; only Serena sat quietly listening to everything being said around her.

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  Chapter Three

  Having known her only a few hours, Zane knew from their time in the library together trouble was brewing. The Serena who confronted him then was due to appear, guests or not, and would take Fiona to task. His fingers automatically rubbed his temple, not wanting another confrontation to take place tonight. He said nothing during the hushed silence; Fiona went on.

  Zane sat quietly, listening to the conversation and watching his new wife from under his lashes. He had to give her credit for not losing her temper, yet. Somehow he knew it would come, but she was holding back in front of their guests. His cock twitched as he watched each breath she took, her breasts rising and lowering under the silky material. The fingers on his right hand automatically rubbed against each other as he imagined what her skin might feel like. He already knew her scent, knew it was soap and not heavy perfume like most women wore. Instead, she smelled clean and of the fields of lavender that sprawled beyond his keep walls.

  Staying a distance from Serena would become a problem, he concluded. He'd have to explain to Serena her wifely duties didn't exist. He simply wanted someone to run his home and supervise the servants. On occasion, she'd have to act as his hostess. His intentions were gently fleeing his mind, his resolve failing as his body betrayed his wanton thoughts. To bed her would be a mistake, but it might prove interesting anyway. Besides, he justified, she'd been married three previous times, a shy virgin she would not be. He told himself he was legally married to her now and it was his right to take her body.

  Winning her mind would be difficult. Especially with the way the evening was heading. No, he decided, for the immediate future, he'd leave her in the west wing and after their company left, he'd decide if he wanted to take her to bed. It would be an informed decision then; they'd know each other better and his judgment would be sound. With that decided, his erection grew, reminding him his body would override his common sense at will.

  * * * *

  It was late and Serena was dead tired. The stress of dealing with William and now her new husband, whom it seemed had little spine when it came to certain people had exhausted her. Over their feast, she'd heard him argue with one guest about the concerns of the fall planting and the drought that was predicted, yet he was quite positive of their yield. Another guest challenged him about the background of his stock; a certain horse named Algernon was in question. It all ended amicably, but all the while, Fiona seemed intent on staring at Serena, fully aware of how uncomfortable she was making her. With one last attempt, she tried to befriend the Countess.

  "Do you ride, Countess? It is a passion of mine, maybe one we share?” The response she got wasn't what she expected. Laughing almost hysterically, Fiona finished her mead and refilled her cup once again. This time Serena noted Zane lifted his towards his lips but didn't drink, rather held the cup so it couldn't be refilled.

  "My dear girl, what a jokester you've turned out to be. Zane, you will have your hands full. If you're not careful, she'll be mucking out the stalls!” Fiona laughed again and Serena realized the other woman would never ride or most likely do anything for herself that another could be ordered to.

  "That's enough, Fiona. Many women are known to love horses and their riding is an enjoyable time for some.” He glanced towards Serena.

  "Actually, I'd prefer a horse to some people I've met in my life any day!” There was no doubt in anyone's mind who the reference was about. Everyone had full bellies and too much mead, and started to laugh. Zane took Serena's hand under his, holding tightly as the countess flared red.

  "I think it's time we all retired. After all, it's been a long day for all of us.” Zane stood, but Serena didn't let go of his hand as she rose beside him. “Tomorrow we can finish our conversations."

  "I'm not tired, Zane,” Fiona said. “And we all know you have such difficulties sleeping. Send the chit to bed if you m
ust, but it would be rude to leave me alone."

  Most everyone else at the table made their excuses and reaffirmed a welcome to Serena. While she noted several gathered in the main hall, supposedly talking, she understood they were all waiting for the fireworks to start. “Shall we retire to the parlor, Countess? You're right of course; it would be quite rude to leave you sleepless and alone.” Her sweet smile left no doubt that Serena would not leave her new husband alone with Fiona.

  "Oh, Zane, how sweet. I forgot, she's probably anxious to get on with her wifely duties. Go, ahead, you two. Zane, do come down when you're finished and we'll have a drink. At least we'll know you survived the act!"

  Another gauntlet was tossed and the duke decided enough was enough for one day.

  "Actually, Fiona, I'm tired and have a headache, so I'll say goodnight. I'll have DeVore bring you another bottle of mead if you choose to stay up. Serena and I will see you in the morning.” She heard the gasp come from Fiona and held back a smile.

  * * * *

  It had been his plan from the start; she'd be nothing more than a glorified housekeeper, especially from the descriptions of Serena's half-brother. Never had he anticipated the brown-haired woman with doe eyes to be slim and attractive. Never did he expect his body to react to her on sight. And he knew that was why he had been so short with her in the study upon her arrival. One look at her, wet and muddy, and his erection grew with a mind of its own. It had been a long time since he'd thought about bedding any woman; he'd assumed his equipment had failed when he had his accident. But tonight, all through the meal, he had to consciously think about war and planting the fields to keep him from being embarrassed by his aroused state.

  Fiona pushed past Serena and took his arm, whispering about his terrible headaches and hoping one of her famous neck rubs would put him right. Serena could have followed behind them like a second class servant, but didn't. She remained at the bottom of the staircase and watched the two of them. Fiona glanced down from the balcony and released a mocking laugh.