Taming the Rancher: Mail Order Bride (Brides and Twins Book 2)

by Natalie Dean

  By the time he finished, I was a mess. I was shaking, sore, and I felt violated. My stomach was doing somersaults and before I could get my bearings I was pulled off the bed. He yanked me to my feet, but my knees gave out, and I slumped to the floor, still sobbing silently. My cheeks felt hot, red and irritated from rubbing against the sheets.

  “Get up,” he ordered.

  I didn’t move. My body wouldn’t let me. I wanted to move, but I couldn’t. Reynold pulled me to my feet and tossed my robe onto me before he all but pushed me out of the room. I tumbled to the wood floor, naked and shaking. He just shook his head back and forth and sighed as he tossed the rest of my clothes at me.

  “You better figure out how to get a hold of yourself, Mariana. So far you have been useless as a wife!” he snapped. “You need to figure out how you’re going to make this situation better,” he hissed.

  I just nodded and pushed myself to my feet, clinging to the banister as I moved down the hall. Reynold slammed his door shut, and I crumpled again. I just sat there, the wood floor cool on my hot skin. I sat there and cried, covering my face as I tried to stop the tears. I probably would have been there all night if it wasn’t for the maid, Heidi.

  She came up the stairs and gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Madame!” she cried walking over to me and helping me to my feet. “What are you doing on the floor?! Why are you so disheveled?” she asked, the concern clear in her voice despite her thick Swedish accent.

  I just shook my head as she wrapped the robe around me and helped me back to my room. She settled me in the bed and fetched a bowl of warm water and a washcloth. She’d pulled the blankets up around me, tucking me in before washing my face. The water felt good against my skin, though I knew it wouldn’t scrub away the shame or the sadness.

  She was silent for a long moment and sighed. “You’ll feel better in the morning, child,” she hummed.

  I wanted to believe her, but something told me that wasn’t true. I wasn’t going to feel any better in the morning than I did right now and we both knew it. I closed my eyes and turned towards her, burying my face in her dress. She stroked my hair as I fell silent and it was only a small comfort, but at least it helped me fall asleep after the horrifying ordeal.

  The worse part of all was that I knew it wasn’t going to get any better. This was my life now, and I had to square with that.

  Chapter Three

  I hadn’t seen my mother in nearly a month and in that month, I’d quickly learned my plight. My new life with my husband only got more terrifying every day. I had a slight hope that he might get bored with me eventually, but that was far from the case. Every time he brought me into his chambers he got rougher and seemed to have less concern for me. I didn’t cry anymore, but that was the only improvement.

  He’d taken to terrorizing me during the day too. I tried to do the things wives were expected to do. But every time I cooked or stitched his buttons back on, he managed to find something wrong with it. Then he would proceed to yell at me or slap me across the face, destroying any progress I made and insisting that I start again. But I knew that no matter how perfect it was, it would never be good enough.

  I was sitting in my family’s garden, my hand shaking as I struggled to hold the delicate porcelain tea cup. My hands always seemed to shake from nerves. I set the cup down, tired of trying to keep the tea from sloshing out.

  My mother’s gaze was fixed on my bruised face, and she frowned deeply. A part of me was hoping that she would see the dark, ugly bruises marring my perfect skin and save me from the monster I’d been married to. I hoped her vanity might save me just this once, but instead she blamed it on me.

  “You must try harder to keep your husband happy,” she said, sipping her tea. “You cannot just laze about and expect your marriage to thrive.”

  Tears burned behind my eyes and I folded my hands in my lap. “I am doing everything I possibly can, mother. I sew, I cook and I even clean!” I insisted.

  Mother raised an eyebrow and shook her head. “You must not clean. That is probably why he reprimanded you,” she mused. “The servants clean and you serve him in other ways.”

  “This was not a reprimand!” I snapped, pointing to the bruise that covered most of my cheek bone and dipped into the tender flesh below my eye. “He beat me!”

  My mother stiffened, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. “Then you must work harder-.”

  “No! Don't tell me I need to work harder! Don't tell me that this is my fault! I do everything within my power, and it’s never good enough! I’m here because I need your help mother! I am your daughter! You cannot condemn me to this! You can’t let him hurt me like this!”

  She wiped her mouth with her kerchief and stood. “I believe our visit is over, dear,” she murmured softly.

  “Mother!”

  “Don’t!” she finally snapped, turning to look at me, her eyes wide. “Do not think your fate is any different than any other woman’s! Do you think your father has never beat me?”

  I fell silent at that question, staring at my mother for a long time. There were so many thoughts rattling around in my head. I had so many things I wanted to say and so many questions, but I couldn’t force any of them out of my lips. I swallowed thickly and covered my face with my hands, trying to pull myself together.

  I finally pulled my hands away and looked up at her. “How could you allow this to happen knowing that I’d face your fate?” I whispered weakly.

  My mother and I had always had a tense relationship, but I thought there was love underneath the tension. I thought that she loved me, but how could you allow someone you loved to be so viciously attacked and hurt? How could you knowingly put your child in danger?

  “Do you think I had a say in this? What was I to do, Mariana? Was I to disobey your father?”

  “I would have hoped you’d stand up for me,” I whispered. “I would have hoped that you would protect me like a mother is expected to!”

  She turned and looked at me, her eyes sharp. “You were cursed to this fate the day you were born! When I saw your face and that beautiful golden hair, I knew there was nothing I could do. You were going to be snatched from me the second you were of marrying age.”

  “You had seventeen years to stop it! You had seventeen years to save me, and you did nothing!”

  My mother put her hands flat on the table and stared at me. “You will be with child soon enough, Mariana. Soon you will suffer the way I did. You will have a daughter, and you will have to watch her be groomed to be a wife, knowing that she will end up marrying a pig of a man. One who beats her day and night, and the only thing you will be able to do for her is to try to teach her how to keep him happy,” she whispered. “Do not condemn me until you have seen for yourself what it is like to be a mother.”

  She pushed herself into a standing position and turned her back to me, walking along the stone path towards the large French doors that were opened by her maids. I felt a lump in my throat as I watched her go. Never in my life had I felt so utterly alone and abandoned. I had expected my mother to save me. I had hoped she would take me away from the hell I found myself living in. I prayed that she would help me, but now it was clearer than ever that I was on my own.

  I would have to save myself.

  Chapter Four

  My visit with mother had opened my eyes. It made me realize that if I expected things to change, I was going to have to be the one to change them. When I entered this marriage, I was weak. I was naïve and unable to process the cruelty that I was facing on a daily basis. I had spent my entire life in a cage, being pampered and given anything I wanted (with the exception of a proper education). I’d never had to have a thick skin, but that had to change if I was going to survive this.

  Another few weeks passed, and I managed to keep myself together when I was around Reynold. He seemed a bit confused by my sudden change in attitude and made it clear that he didn’t like it. He spent his days trying to intimidate me and get
me to cry. It worked a few times, but I quickly learned that if I could hold my tears until he was gone, he would get bored far quicker.

  He was already bored with me physically, which I didn’t mind in the least. He would call me to his chambers a few times a week, I would lie in bed, let him crawl over me and then I would leave. I didn’t react anymore. I didn’t cry, I didn’t beg, and I didn’t move. I knew he hated it just as much as I did at this point, but he needed a child and having his mistress become pregnant would be unacceptable for a man of his prestige.

  Along with the duties I was expected to perform in the bedroom, Reynold also made it clear that I was to be at all social events, dressed in all the finery that he could afford. I was to attend the events and be his prize. At least I was familiar with this particular ritual.

  Heidi weaved my golden hair into a delicate braid and carefully pinned it around my head. It was a style that was a bit unusual, but not unacceptable. Small pearls and feathers had been tucked in my hair, and white powder dusted across my skin. I looked like the pale and fragile lady I’d been brought up to be.

  As Heidi closed the clasp on my diamond necklace, I ran my fingers along the fine pink silk dress I was wearing to the ball. The bustle wrapped around my waist made it difficult to move around too much, but at least it collapsed in on itself when I sat down.

  “You look beautiful, Madame.”

  I knew that her words were supposed to make me feel better. She was trying to make me smile or at least bring some light to the situation, but the words did nothing but make my heart ache. Beautiful. She called me beautiful like everyone else in my life had. My beauty had put me in this situation. Even though the words made my skin crawl, I smiled up at her and put my hands over hers.

  “Thank you, Heidi,” I said, rising from the ornate stool I was perched on. “Thank you for all of your help.”

  “It was my pleasure, Madame,” she said, curtseying before exiting the room.

  Once she was gone, I took a few moments to muster up the strength I would need to smile through the night. I would be expected to fawn over my husband, giggle and talk to everyone at the party. They weren’t to know of the nights I spent crying or abused, and they would never suspect that under all the white powder on my face was an ugly bruise. My entire life had been a charade. Why would it be any different now?

  I walked towards the door, pushed it open and took a breath, listening to the sound of beautiful music playing. My husband had hired the best piano player in the city in hopes of impressing his guests. I lifted the skirt of my dress ever so slightly and made my way down the stairs.

  Heads turned, and I could feel eyes on me. I could feel the heat of desire rising in the room and a wave of jealousy followed soon after. As I reached the bottom step, I glanced up and saw my husband, looking at me with thinly veiled pride. It was a sin, after all. Most people would want their husbands to feel pride towards them, but the look he gave me was hardly a compliment. It was the kind of pride a child felt when they were the one who owned the best toy. It was the pride horse breeders felt when they had a particularly fine horse. This was not the pride that loving people felt towards each other.

  I pushed down the bile that rose in my throat and walked through the ballroom. I greeted everyone the way I was expected to and smiled, sipping a glass of wine as I spoke to a few women I didn’t know.

  “I hear Mrs. Johnson has taken a lover,” one of them whispered, sounding scandalized.

  “She has had many lovers. This is not her first,” another snorted.

  “Can you really blame her? Mr. Johnson is far too old for her. Their youngest child probably isn’t even his. I doubt he can perform his marital duties anymore.”

  The women giggled, and I frowned. I never liked gossip, and for some reason, it didn’t seem right to judge any woman for taking a lover. I was quickly beginning to understand why some did. That conversation set the tone for the rest of the night. I moved about the room, engaging as many people as I could, but soon it began to take a toll on me. I was so tired of putting up a front, and I was so tired of pretending to be happy. I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to keep the act up and so I wandered outside.

  Our garden was a beautiful testament to just how much money my husband had. Even with the heat, he managed to afford the resources needed to keep the flowers and trees thriving. I stepped off the porch and onto the stone walkway that led through the garden. I just needed some fresh air and the cool night air was refreshing me already.

  As I strolled through the garden, I could hear the sound of hooves digging into soft earth and a man yelling, frustration evident in his voice. I turned and broke through the garden and saw one of the farm hands chasing after a horse. He wore a loose linen shirt that was partially open and dark pants that were stained with dirt from a hard day’s work.

  One of the horses had gotten loose, and it seemed he was trying to catch it. The scene was rather amusing, and I couldn’t help bringing my hand to my lips, letting out a soft laugh. The sound was loud enough to catch the horse’s attention and the magnificent beast trotted over to me.

  The horse was white with beautiful caramel colored spots. It had no fear and came right up to me, neighing softly and stamping its hooved feet. I reached out slowly and wrapped my fingers around the leather reigns, humming as I raised my hand and ran it down the soft hair on its nose. The horse grunted and nuzzled my hand, and I enjoyed the freedom and intimacy of this moment. I’d never had the opportunity to spend much time around horses since my parents owned neither a farm or their own carriage.

  The farmhand ran over, panting as he put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “Madame. You…should not be out here,” he breathed, finally standing up straight. “It’s dark, and there could be coyotes-,” his voice trailed off, and his eyes widened when they landed upon my face.

  He was a good-looking man. Tall and fit from years of working outside. His hands were big and strong. I imagined that they were rough from working with tools and animals, but that thought excited me. I chewed my bottom lip as I gazed into his eyes. Even with only the moonlight, I could tell that they were the color of summer rain. His jaw was as strong as I imagined its constitution was, and his hair as black as night. It was no wonder I became lost in his gaze.

  “You have a way with horses,” he murmured, patting the horse’s muscular neck.

  “Do I?” I asked, looking up at the creature, offering him the reigns.

  He took them thankfully and smiled. “Well, considerin’ I’ve been tryin’ to chase her down for the last hour, and she walked right up to you, I’d say so.”

  “I’m glad I could help.”

  He paused and looked me up and down and my cheeks went pink with heat. “You shouldn’t be out here, Ma’am.”

  “Mariana,” I said quickly.

  “Mariana?”

  “That’s my name. I think I’m rather tired of people calling me Ma’am and Madame,” I said, politely offering my hand.

  He nodded and took my hand in his large one, brushing his calloused fingers over my tender skin. He leaned down and kissed the back of it. “Mariana, then,” he said, standing up. “My name is Liam.”

  “Liam.” The name rolled off my tongue like silk, and I wanted to say it again but decided that might be strange. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” He said, looking up at the house. “You’re missin’ the party.”

  I looked back at the house and cleared my throat. “Yes. I stepped out to get some fresh air and got a little lost, I’m afraid.”

  “Well, It’s your lucky day, Mariana. I know this place like the back of my hand. Let me put Penelope where she belongs, and I will personally show you the way back,” he said with a smile that made me flush.

  “Of course,” I breathed.

  He put the horse back in her pen and walked over to me, offering his arm. I hesitated, but slid my hand into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to walk me through the
garden. Telling him that I’d gotten lost was a bit of a lie, but I didn’t feel bad about it in the least. I would have lied ten times over for this moment. He walked me back through the garden, and when we finally made it to the doors, he released me.

  “Thank you for walking me back.”

  “Mariana, you can get lost in my garden any time you’d like,” he said, winking before turning and walking back towards the worker’s quarters.

  I watched him go and tried to ignore the way my cheeks burned, and my stomach turned over. I’d never felt anything like this before. It was what I assumed desire felt like. I assumed that this was what it felt like to want someone to hold you in their arms.

  One thing was for sure, I knew I wanted to feel it again.

  Chapter Five

  Liam. The man had not left my thoughts since the party. My husband had been so drunk that he hadn’t even noticed I was missing. I’d stayed at the party for as long as I was expected to, and then disappeared and went up to my room. I stood at the window that overlooked the garden and saw Penelope. She was trotting around the wooden pen, and I offered her a silent thank you for bringing Liam my way.

  I wasn’t able to leave the house the next day since my husband stayed home. He was ill from drinking too much the night before, and while I cared for him and wiped his brow, I didn’t feel any sympathy for him. Reynold was a man of excess. He drank too much and ate too much and then lazed around, feeling sick. He brought every bit of sickness onto himself, though I was not going to say anything. The last thing I wanted was to anger him.

  The day after that, however, he told me he was going into town to talk to some very important men. I wasn’t entirely sure what my husband did beyond the fact that he owned massive amounts of land. I imagined he owned cattle or something of that sort, but I didn’t care enough to ask.

  I went about my morning as I normally did and once I was dressed and made up, my curls loose and brushed over my shoulder, I walked out past the garden and towards the stables. I was dressed in a casual sky blue dress, though I’d put quite a bit of effort into my makeup. I wanted Liam to find me beautiful, and I didn’t want him to see the bruise on my face.