He wanted to trust Chloe so badly it hurt. He wanted more than to trust her, he wanted every part of her. Dear lord, he hoped she hadn’t already been claimed by another.
Leaning his head back against the chair, he fixed his gaze on the rise and fall of her chest. Whatever she hid from him must have been extremely traumatic for her to have fainted and be out this long. It had been nearly twenty minutes, and she still lay asleep on the bed. Should he try to wake her? He decided against it. Whatever evils she was fighting were probably best dealt with unconsciously first before facing them in reality.
His vision kept traveling to her face. Her peaceful beautiful face. With her hair flowing all around her, she looked exactly like the angelic vision he’d seen outside of South Hearth. It was hard to believe that someone who looked so innocent in sleep could be a traitor. Perhaps that was part of her enchantment. She used her beauty to her advantage. That was certainly how she’d initially captured him. Then she’d spoken, and he was completely enraptured.
Chloe had also captured all of his staff and the entire village. Everywhere he looked on his way through the village to the keep, he heard whispers of her name. It was evident from the cleanliness of the castle, the scent of herbs and flowers, and come to think of it, the orderly way the bailey now looked.
She appeared so innocent from the outside. But what lurked beneath? He knew the passion that lay beneath her innocent exterior. She had a passion to match his own, and how he wished to reignite it.
In time, Alexander told himself. She would be his soon. Just as soon as he was able to sort through this mess, and explain things to not only his father, but his king. As soon as they knew and understood what had happened, he could make her his. And he would see to it that they did understand. His need and desire for Chloe were so great, that he would give up everything he had just to be with her.
Alexander was amazed at the realization. He truly would leave all his riches, titles and future. She was his future, and he would give up anything that got in the way of that. He would fight for her. He would even fight her until she realized they were meant to be.
Staring intently, he willed her to wake up. He wanted to get this over with. He was anxious to move on. He was a man of strategy, a fierce dragon, and he couldn’t sit around and wait all day for her to wake up and tell him what he needed to hear.
He stood up with the idea of shaking her a bit to rouse her from her stupor. By the time he got to the side of the bed he could hear her murmur something and she turned her head to the side. He rushed to her side, his breath quickening along with his heart.
She was waking up.
She murmured again. He could sense the panic in her voice but he could not make out her words.
“Chloe, it is Alexander, you are safe.” He hoped that he could calm her, so that she would wake up peacefully and not frightened.
“Don’t kill me…” she whispered faintly. “Please, I didn’t know. Don’t kill me. Don’t lock me away.”
He froze. She thought he would kill her? He couldn’t tell for sure if she was coherent and speaking to him, or if she was speaking in her dreams. She had not opened her eyes. Her arms had come up around her head and she was shaking her head back and forth. Her voice had taken on a begging quality. She was truly scared that he would do something to her. She choked on a sob.
Alexander sat down on the bed beside her, stroking her arm, then her hair.
“Chloe. I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you, my love,” he said softly, stroking her cheek. She seemed to calm down a little at his words. “Wake up darling. It’s all right.” His hand caressed her furrowed brow, smoothing the wrinkles there, then he took hold of her hands, gently caressing them with his thumbs.
Chloe slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. Her face clouded with emotions, and then one took prevalence.
Fear.
She sucked in her breath and became still. She pulled her hand out from his and felt under the blanket. As she did so her eyes grew wider and wider. She locked her gaze on his with the realization of what he’d done to her gown, and that her precious portrait was missing.
“What have you done to my gown?” she asked, still wide eyed, but the fear he had seen on her face was replaced with anger. Her brow furrowed as she stared at him, demanding an answer.
“You couldn’t breathe. I had to do what I did. It was the only way,” he explained, not really caring whether or not she agreed with what he’d done. She didn’t say anything, just stared at him.
Based on his recent experience with her, it was not likely she would bring up the topic. She must be waiting for him. Chloe searched his face for something—waiting—her eyes flitting about his face, her lips pressed firmly together.
She had surely made him wait long enough. Actually she hadn’t. She would have made him wait until all eternity. He found out her secret on his own. He decided to be honest with her. Maybe that would prompt her to be honest with him.
“I know what you are thinking, Chloe,” he said looking into her eyes, giving her one more chance to bring up the topic herself.
“How could you possibly know what I am thinking? But I suppose you can guess, seeing as how you are the reason I am lying here indecent with my stays ripped open and my body practically exposed to you,” she said angrily. “You think because you are lord of the manor you can do what you like with the women of the village? I told you once before, I am no common harlot here for your use.” Her face was red with anger.
“I agree, mademoiselle. You are no one to be trifled with. But I was not talking about your state of undress. Which, by the way, was necessary for your breathing. You would have suffocated. I did, of course, enjoy the view,” he added to spite her.
She sucked in her breath, her eyes shooting daggers at him.
“I am so tired, my lord. Could I go back to my room and rest?” She tried to sit up, but Alexander pressed her back down.
“No, you can not. We have much to discuss. Particularly what I have found.” He hoped the look he gave her said, I know what you have been hiding, now stop playing games with me.
Chloe swallowed nervously. “May I please have some water?”
He understood her thirst. Fear and panic would do that to a person. Perhaps hydrating herself and taking a moment would help her to think more clearly. Let the truth sink in that he knew her secrets.
“Yes.” He handed her a cup and she sipped it slowly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He could see her battling something inside.
He moved to the fireplace and leaned against it, an elbow on the mantle and his head in his hand, he paused to think a moment. Maybe he should wait till she was more rested and focused, not the frenzied looking rabbit she was now. He wanted her to trust him too, trust him enough that she would tell him the truth, even though he already knew what it was. Perhaps if he showed her some mercy, she would believe he was truly serious, that she could trust him.
Without turning back to her, he started to speak.
“Chloe, I know you know what I am talking about. I can see that it causes you great distress to think on it, and although I am desperate to hear you speak the truth, I will wait.” He turned to face her. “I want you to trust me enough that you can tell me the truth.”
At his last words, he could see relief wash over her face. She really wasn’t very good at hiding her emotions. He laughed softly.
“Let me be clear. You have tonight to contemplate what I’ve said. I will give you that. Think wisely. I need to hear it from you. I will send a maid to your chamber with food.” He turned from her, dismissing her from his thoughts. He had much to reflect on.
“My lord, may I borrow a robe?” she asked softly.
Turning, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of her standing, covering her shredded gown with her arms. Soft pink flesh attacked his senses. She was a vision. He rounded from her, not wanting to ravish her on the spot. He walked to his wardrobe and pulled out his dressing robe an
d handed it to her, keeping his eyes averted. Not wanting the staff to gossip if they saw her return to her room unescorted and wearing his robe Alexander decided it would be a good idea for him to go with her.
After she had secured the robe around herself, he walked her to his door and opened it. With his hand resting on the small of her back, they walked. Luckily they passed no one along the way, and he did not have to deal with stares or whispers.
“Do you have more stays?” he asked softly, averting his eyes from her.
“Yes, my lord,” she whispered. She walked into her room and, turning from him, took off the robe and handed it to him behind her back. “Thank you, my lord.” She walked straight to her bed, climbed under the covers and laid down. “I will require no food this eve,” she said to him without turning around once.
Chloe looked so dejected, so frail. It ripped at Alexander knowing the fear that raged inside her. Hadn’t he calmed her with his words?
Mayhap he should go about this a different way?
Maude fumed in the little abandoned cottage she’d found in the woods. Only a day had passed since she delivered the incriminating satchel to Lord Hardwyck. She had a spy in the village, who was supposed to rush to her as soon as the lord punished Chloe, but still she sat without a word.
She worked hard to find someone who understood the seal of the jewels she’d found. As soon as the poor man finished, she gave him a special drink that sent him into eternal sleep. No one could know about this but her. She didn’t want to take any chances that someone else would give the evidence to Lord Hardwyck. Leaving the portrait of a very noble Chloe and some man in the satchel would surely show the lord she was an imposter. The jewels she’d keep for herself, sell them she would, and be a rich woman indeed. This was her way of getting back her life, paying that slut back for what she’d done.
Her anger soared and Maude kicked the dirt floor, sending particles of dust up into her face, which only served to increase her ire. She stomped her feet and shouted curses to the ceiling.
She hadn’t heard a thing about Chloe. She hadn’t seen the sneaking, conniving traitor thrown out on her rear. Why bloody hell not?
Didn’t Lord Hardwyck understand the minx was a traitor?
Didn’t he know the good deed Maude had just done him? Didn’t he understand that she was a loyal servant? She knew he was back in the village. She’d told Harold that what the satchel contained was of the direst importance for the lord to read—that it was a matter of life and death. She knew Harold, being so loyal to Lord Hardwyck, would have given him the news immediately upon his return. So why, after hours and hours after the lord had returned home had she not heard of the vixen being hanged?
That bitch ruined Maude’s life, her son’s life, and was certainly bent on ruining Lord Hardwyck’s life. If only he understand that. If he knew Maude was trying to save him, then maybe he would let her son go. They could return to their former life and her son could care for her when she became too feeble to work.
Maude patted her skirt and smiled. With the jewels she had stolen from the satchel, it wouldn’t be too hard to support herself now. But she still wanted her son home with her.
Something had gone wrong. Perhaps the witch had gotten a hold of Harold, and he looked through the satchel and gave it to her when he realized it contained her things.
Yes, something must have gone wrong. Once Lord Hardwyck saw the contents of that satchel, he would have had to do something about the twit. She was a traitor, a villainous, conniving traitor. Chloe had taken everything from her!
Maude wanted revenge.
She wanted blood.
She would have to take matters into her own hands.
Chloe opened her chamber door and was surprised to see a holly sprig on the ground. Attached to the stem was a note. She looked around but could see no one. Who could have left her a note?
The thought of someone waiting and watching caused her stomach to sear with pain. She was already tense with pent up nervous energy and fear. She picked up the holly and the scroll and shut her door quietly. Going to the window, she read the scroll with the light of the rising sun.
Mademoiselle Chloe,
I believe that I owe you a ride. Please meet me in the courtyard.
Lord Hardwyck
A ride? To her doom?
Chloe shook her head. Why give her the note on the holly? It was almost as if, after last night, he was—no! This is what courting had been like when she’d been in Scotland, only a thistle was given to her there, and in France pretty spring flowers... Was he courting her? Impossible. The world began to spin and Chloe collapsed onto the bed as all the events from the night before came tumbling back to her.
He knew. There was no denying it now.
She recalled the story he’d told her and if it wasn’t about her, then it was a damned coincidence that his bride seemed to share the same history. A shiver passed through her. Would today decide everything? Would he be contemplating her fate—then passing judgment on her?
Just what did Lord Alexander intend to do? Was he going to take her somewhere secluded, away from all of the villagers and then use force to make her tell him? Or worse?
What would she tell Harold? Would he think it was odd that she was going riding with the master at this hour of the morning? Chewing on her lip, she realized Harold probably knew already…
Swallowing her apprehension, Chloe smoothed out her gown and gently patted her brother’s dagger, which she still wore strapped to her thigh. If Lord Hardwyck did try to dispose of her, at least she would have some form of self-defense.
Walking to the door, she had a fleeting regret that she wasn’t wearing something prettier than her simple charcoal gray wool gown.
Chloe nervously smoothed her dress again and took as deep a breath as she could with her tight stays. It seemed tighter since she had first received it. Having a steady supply of meals and hard work had truly brought her figure back. With her curves she felt more womanly than when she had first arrived, looking like a starved child.
Now why would she want to look womanly for Alexander? This was the man who had taken everything from her. But she couldn’t help it. She new without a doubt that she wanted to impress him, to look nice for him. She needed to.
Why do I need to?
Chloe was again struck with the realization she’d fallen in love with Lord Hardwyck. As much as she’d tried to push it aside, she couldn’t. Her heart soared at the thought, and her stomach flip-flopped. Her feelings for him were so mixed, so confusing. Sometimes she hated him, feared him, was angry at him. At other times she felt sorry for him, pitied him. And then at other times, she felt like flying with the joy love brought to her.
That just wouldn’t do. How could she love him? He was her enemy, for heaven’s sake. Hadn’t he been the one to taunt her, and flaunt what could have been her future in front of her? He dangled the fact that he knew the truth over her head, and he was holding her here with that knowledge, holding her in his home like a prisoner.
Yet she knew that wasn’t true. She hadn’t been locked in the dungeon, she hadn’t even been locked in her room. If anything she had been treated like a member of the family or at least a close friend. She had been given a home, a place to work, food to eat and clothes to wear.
She felt like she had a permanent place here. That was what she wanted, what she needed, permanence. She needed to feel secure, she needed to feel loved.
Chloe felt those things. But somehow the illusion had been cast in front of her. Even with all the fear and fretting about being found out, she hadn’t really worried about her fate. Until now.
When she thought about it, she guessed he had known all along. Why now, after he’d confirmed it, did she feel threatened? And even more so when he’d taken the portrait from her?
Then he’d completely floored her by not talking about the matter until she was ready for him to do so—even though he’d given her a deadline of this morning.
She couldn’t believe it. He had said that he thought she meant to kill him. Why the sudden change?
She wasn’t going to get the answers she needed in her room. It was time to go. Time to meet him—deal with reality. Confronting Alexander and telling him the truth was going to be beyond hard.
She was so scared. She didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. How would he take it? What would he say? Could she go through with it? Would he accept it?
Too many questions and absolutely no answers.
Pinching her cheeks, she told herself that she could do this. She was in control. She was confident. He hadn’t thrown her in the dungeon or locked her in the tower. Yet. Things would turn out all right. She had done a lot to better his village. She had saved his life.
If anything she could barter that. A life for a life.
But the truth was that she was in love with him. So in love, that she was willing to risk her neck to tell him who she was and hope against hope that he would accept her. She nodded to no one, but it helped her to affirm her affections and her plan. She would tell him, but she needed to know for certain how he felt, and whether or not he would hold her past against her, or if he would forgive her for transgressions that were not of her own choosing.
Alexander saw Chloe coming before she noticed him. Sitting atop Hero, he couldn’t help but be transfixed by the vision of her walking down the steps to the keep. She simply didn’t belong in her setting. She looked like an imposter as she sauntered up to him, her gait purely noble. The drab servant’s gown she wore would have looked just as plain on anyone else, but on her, it was stunning. Perhaps it was the way the lines of the gown clung to all the right places. Curves that had appeared overnight it seemed. Or was it that the dull grey fabric made her vibrant eyes look more blue than he had ever seen, and the black of her hair shinier than his shield.
He sucked in his breath. His emotions were running away with him. He had tried to fight them, but they overruled. He wanted her. He wanted all of her. She would be his. Taking her on a ride this morning was a good idea. He wanted to establish further their connection and when she was comfortable, tell him the truth. His plan would work; he couldn’t see one flaw with it.
Daring Damsels Page 19
