“Does m’lady feel a draft?” Vladamir asked politely when she shivered. The hall was warm, too warm for a breeze.
“N-nay,” she said softly, the word broken. Sitting forward, she wiped imaginary crumbs from the clean table.
“Then mayhap ‘tis my company you find repulsive?” He probed with a sharp, unapologetic bite to his words. Leaning back in his chair, he rested his elbow on the wooden arm.
“Nay, m’lord.” Eden placed her hand in her lap, pressing her lips tightly together.
“You’re upset with me?” Vladamir chuckled. The sound took her by surprise. It was a mixture of pleasure and amusement, not like the evil laughter she had so recently heard from him.
She shivered because the question was more of a statement. “M’lord, I’d request some semblance of etiquette from you. ‘Tis not proper for you to speak so—”
“Honestly?” He asked with an amused tilt of his head.
“Nay, I was going to say vulgarly.” Eden swiped the back of her hand over her lap in an effort to hide her nervousness. “Candid honesty is fine when ‘tis amongst friends, but we—”
“I have no use for the games of etiquette. If one doesn’t say what one means, ‘tis useless for one to talk.” He shot her a smug look of superiority, his gaze daring her to disagree.
Eden snapped her mouth shut at his words. Doing her best to contain her irritation, she looked carefully about at the seated men. Laughter broke over the hall from the back. She tried to see what started it, but couldn’t tell what was going on, but she did hear someone make a comment about the lack of food.
Eden took a deep breath and forgot herself as she studied the duke. The blood ran thick in her veins and kept her throat from swallowing. Every time she was near him her body ran so hot and cold she couldn’t think straight. Her thighs tightened and her stomach tingled. Maybe he was a demon casting a spell over her.
“M’lord?” she asked after the laughter died down. Eden was all too aware that they were still being watched. She refused to look at him too long, lest he again accuse her of staring.
Yea, wouldn’t do to be reprimanded once more in public hearing.
The duke merely continued to stare at her, not answering. She glanced at him and away again, wishing he’d turn his attention elsewhere. He didn’t and she was forced to sit in uncomfortable silence.
Vladamir rested his temple against his knuckles, leaning on the arm of his chair while he awaited her next scolding in anticipation.
Eden flicked her fingernails nervously. The plain brown tunic she wore was drab in comparison to her hair. He wondered if she regretted being at his manor for surely she was used to rich, embellished gowns. She acted like a lady and he was pleased with what she’d done in his hall. He’d already noted the mead that had been laid on all the tables. The men had been livelier upon his entrance, but now they quieted to a low murmur.
“M’lord?” she repeated, a little more forceful. He liked her courage as well.
“Yea?” he answered, busy staring at her delicate ear. It would be so easy to lean over and suck the lobe between his teeth. He considered ordering everyone to leave so he could draw her onto his lap and take her right there in the hall.
“Would you like me to call the servants in?” she asked. “Those in the hall are waiting to dine.”
“Please,” Vladamir commanded, surprised by the observation, even as he was a little disappointed in her restraint. Amazed, he watched as she lifted her arm and made a single gesture. As soon as her arm was again at her side the door to the kitchen burst open. Servants carried trays of food forward and laid them on the table. The trays were laden with roasted mutton and herbed potatoes and fresh loaves of bread that still steamed from baking. There were boiled turnips and even freshly churned butter in crocks.
He’d also noticed, to no small surprise, the cleanliness of his keep. The spiderwebs, which he’d grown oddly fond of, were dusted from the rafters. The rushes on the floor were cleaned and scented. The stone walls and tapestries were scrubbed. To Vladamir the cleanliness appeared out of place in his home. It took away from the somber atmosphere he tried to cultivate around himself.
His stonemason, Harold, even complained of Lady Eden’s bullying orders. That was until Vladamir told the drunkard that he bid her to command him in his absence. The fat man had cringed and went straight back to work, harshly ordering the servants about in his indignation.
The duke eyed a servant who passed and saw that her short hair was wet as if she’d just recently bathed. The locks were freshly trimmed and were combed behind her ears. The maid’s clothing had been recently washed and mended. Suddenly turning, the maid slowly made her way to the head table and set her tray before them.
“I hope that m’lord doesn’t mind the mutton in place of fish porridge. Some of the lambs were past their season and the herd was overrun,” Eden stated as she nodded to the timid servant. The girl nearly tripped as she rushed away from the main table. “Besides, I thought it would be a nice reward for all the hard work your people have—”
“Not at all,” he interrupted.
“M’lord, would you like me to pour your drink for you?” Eden asked, her eyes giving away her uncertainty as she turned them down under her dark lashes. Her lips pulled down into an unintentional pout.
Vladamir felt a piece of his hardened core chip away. His insides shook with an unfamiliar force. He couldn’t tell if it was mercy or pity that welled within him. Where had this come from? Where was the willful woman who so defiantly stood up to him? Vladamir had hid his smile at her sharp tone. He drew much pleasure from her willfulness. Seeing her fear of him, he wanted to wipe the pain away, wanted to tell her it was all right. But he couldn’t show weakness. He wouldn’t fall into her womanly trap.
Vladamir nodded his head and leaned back in his chair to study her small waist, as she turned from him. He liked the round curve of her ass. Wicked thoughts danced in his head when he looked at it. He thought of grabbing her, lifting her skirts and pulling her down on his lap right there in the hall. Swallowing, he briefly closed his eyes. His fantasies were becoming all too frequent. Just one look and he was trying to calculate ways to get his sword shoved deep into her wet sheath.
Moving his hands to rest easily underneath his chin, he rubbed the back of his fingers over the scar on his jaw. Eden’s hands trembled as she filled his goblet and set the pitcher on the table. She raised his cup and held it out to him.
Vladamir took the goblet from her unsteady hand, purposely brushing his palm against hers. She visibly swallowed and avoided looking at him as he scrutinized her. Then, frowning, he brusquely grabbed her hand before she could withdraw it. Studying her palm he looked at the raw flesh he found. They weren’t as the hands of a noblewoman should be. They were red and sore as if she’d joined the servants in scrubbing his home. Eden curled her fingers and tried to pull back. Vladamir let her go, his face was expressionless.
“M’lord,” she sighed as she filled her own goblet. Setting the pitcher down, she thoughtfully bit at her lip and kept her palms turned from view. “I’m afraid…”
“Afraid of me,” he inserted when she faltered. His eyes didn’t budge from her face, as he slowly moved his goblet to take a drink.
“Nay.” She glanced scornfully at him and set her goblet on the table. It was clear she didn’t think much of his constant interrupting. “I was going to say that I’m afraid I don’t know clearly what ‘tis you wish my role to be here. For I don’t know how to act as a prisoner and you seem displeased when I tried to act as the lady my father raised me to be. Methought that you could better explain how ‘tis you wish me to conduct myself, so that I may not be a disappointment to you in the future. I want my life here to be as inconspicuous as possible, so you won’t have to give me more than a moment’s thought.”
Vladamir frowned at her admission. He wasn’t at all displeased with her actions thus far. Ulric informed him—in a desperate act of exploiting her honor in
hopes of changing his mind—that he gave Eden ample opportunity to escape as he’d been instructed. The man had even gone so far as to suggest a ride or a walk outside the castle walls, unescorted. Eden refused the offer, saying she wasn’t permitted beyond the gate without the duke’s company or permission.
It would seem you’re truly held here by your own honor.
The duke found little pleasure in the thought. It meant all his preconceived notions of the opposite sex weren’t altogether true. He wasn’t so vain as to believe Clifton sent her to his home to murder him. Once his anger cooled enough to think logically, he doubted the earl thought of him at all.
“M’lady, now I’d like for you to dine.” He set the goblet on the table, tracing his fingernail over the rim of the cup where his lips had touched.
Vladamir carefully trained his gaze on her movements. He had a feeling she wasn’t being openly herself, that she was hiding a wealth of opinions and feelings within her. His stomach tightened with an unknown emotion. It ate at his gut, filling him with guilt. The emotion didn’t set well in him. For years he’d dreamed of nothing but revenge, and now that he had it he was sorry for it.
The duke ignored his self-reproach and instead turned to his meal. He tried to ignore the woman at his side as she fluttered about filling their trencher before pretending to eat. Shaking his head, he realized that it wasn’t so easily done.
The gathered throng steadily grew louder during the meal until the jesting laughter of the men and servants could be heard outside the hall. Vladamir dined quietly. He watched the change brought about in stunned albeit hidden amusement. Although they laughed, he saw many of the knights’ eyes stray to Lady Eden at his side. He knew well the glints of manly appreciation that grew there. Eden paid the men little heed, keeping her eyes downcast and her attention on her lap. Vladamir noted the noblewoman’s modesty with grim approval.
Now you, m’lady, are a mystery.
Shaking his head, he turned back to his meal, doing his best to remember whose daughter she was.
* * * * *
Eden couldn’t force herself to eat the salted mutton and boiled potatoes in their shared trencher. She didn’t have the appetite for it. However, despite that she tried to put on a decent enough show for her captor. Though she mainly rearranged the food laid out on her side of the trencher, pushing it over for the duke to eat when his attention got caught elsewhere. Finally as the meal was drawing to a close, she turned to Vladamir and asked without preamble, “May I go now, m’lord captor? I should like to retire if no more performance is required of me.”
Eden didn’t mean her words to come out as sarcastic as they sounded. Nevertheless, she didn’t bother to look apologetic. Vladamir hadn’t spoken during the meal and he certainly hadn’t answered her question as to her place in his keep. In fact, he told her nothing of her future and Eden found herself growing tired of her necessary performance.
Mayhap, that is because I’m to have no future here. Panic rose in her chest as she looked at Vladamir. He is displeased with me. Mayhap, I’m to have no future at all.
“Nay, I wish you to speak with me.”
“But I have naught of import to say to you, m’lord.” Eden matched his harsh tone with one of her own. She glared slightly when she looked at him, exasperated. “And one shouldn’t talk if there is naught on one’s mind to talk about. Is that not right, m’lord?”
Murmuring, so only she heard his whisper, he boldly admitted, “But there are things I’d have you say.”
“Oh,” Eden gasped in surprise, shooting him a quick sidelong glance as heat washed over her face. She hated that he could make her blush.
“There are things I wish to know.”
“Here? You wish to talk here?” She was tired of the prying eyes of the household. She felt as if she were on display being set so high before them. Yet somehow she was afraid of being alone with the duke and the public scrutiny became welcomed. For although she knew none would come to her aid if she were of such a need, their distanced observation gave her small comfort.
“Nay.”
Eden’s eyes flew to the stairwell and she wondered why she was excited. “Then? You’d have us go where?”
Vladamir followed her gaze. It led to his bedchamber. He suppressed a frown, but not before she saw it.
“Let us walk.” Vladamir stood and waited for her to do the same. He didn’t offer her his arm and he didn’t escort her from the high table. Instead he walked before her, expecting her to follow like a servant.
Eden frowned silently at his back as she stepped soundlessly behind him. A few of the knights noticed her defiant look and grinned to themselves. The hall hastily quieted, watching the nobles in curiosity. She was all too aware of their gazes as she moved away.
“Does he go to kill her now?” she thought to hear someone whisper.
“Nay, ‘tis not yet the witching hour,” she perceived another to respond.
Eden wasn’t sure how much was her imagination and how much of it was true.
Vladamir didn’t turn about once to make sure she obeyed him. Somehow, the fact angered her. He treated her as if she were a trained mongrel. Glancing to the stairwell, she wondered if she had the courage to run and hide from him. It would serve him right. The thought soon fled. She didn’t dare to openly disobey him and continued to follow behind him.
As they made their way outdoors, the evening sky was just beginning to turn. The air had cooled some, thanks to a pleasant breeze. Orange streaked across the heavens, only enhanced by the dotting of a few white clouds. The black castle stood out magically, touching the sky. Eden was glad she ordered that the bailey be raked. It had smelled of dog manure and stale earth. Now the sweet herbs and flowers wafted on the breeze as they neared the gardens. Sage, chamomile and mint teased her senses. Eden took in a deep breath and smiled to herself, feeling a momentary, fleeting moment of freedom.
“There is a bench,” the duke broke into her thoughts roughly. The smile fell from her lips at the sound to be replaced by a grimace. He nodded toward the long stone seat in the shade of the big oak tree. “Sit.”
“I’m not a trained dog,” Eden snapped, his words reminding her all too clearly of her position. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, waiting for his wrath. Never had she been so outspoken. What was he doing to her?
He turned at her yell and smiled. The cold stare of his eyes wavered and softened, but the moment was so brief she believed to have imagined it. Eden was surprised that he hadn’t instantly lashed out at her. Her father would’ve had her whipped for such a contrary tone.
“Please, sit,” he amended his previous command. The sky behind his head turned deeper with the oncoming darkness. He waved his fingers gallantly through the air to encompass the bench, appearing very much like a graceful and noble gentleman. Eden was taken aback at the practiced ease of his fluid movement. However, the expression he carried made no doubt that it was still an order that she must obey.
Eden took a hesitant step forward and then paused, unsure. The wind drew her eyes to his chest. His hair floated delicately on the breeze and his black tunic ruffled slightly to reveal a knife hidden at his waist.
Eden nodded weakly, intentionally keeping her back from him, mindful not to try and anger him further. Seeing the weapon reminded her of the servants’ glances of warning and hushed whispers as they’d left the hall. Her heart squeezed tightly in her chest as a grim understanding came over her. Fear gripped her and she would’ve run if she hadn’t seen that the gates were barred.
The duke motioned to the bench and Eden followed his silent command to take a seat. Her arms pulled stiffly at her sides and round eyes kept him in her sidelines. Coming to the edge, she sat along the end of the stone, allowing for room if he wished to join her. To her relief, he didn’t.
Vladamir instead towered over her. His dark locks reflected the purpling of the setting sun and haloed around his head in unrefined waves. When she looked at him she didn’t see sc
ars, she saw a handsome man with a hard, impassible face. His nearness made her stomach quake with excitement. She turned away, trying not to forget her fear, trying not to forget the easy access of his deadly knife.
“‘Tis time you told me how you have come to be here,” he stated without the pleasantness of idle discourse.
Eden shivered at his unrefined manners. “Nay, ‘tis none of your concern.”
“Tell me.” Vladamir loomed over her at the order. She shivered and lifted her chin higher in defiance. “Everything in this manor is my concern.”
“If that is true,” she began with a matching frown, “name all the servants who work your kitchen. Prove to me you’re concerned with this manor.”
Vladamir’s mouth dropped open and his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “I’m tired of playing games. You’ll answer me.”
“Nay,” she returned just as stiffly. She stood and hurried to go, only to stop when she felt his hand wrap her arm like a striking snake. He held her in a deathlike grip, his fingers clasping her in warning.
“I didn’t dismiss you.”
“And I won’t answer your questions. I’m your prisoner, but that doesn’t give you leave to pry into my private thoughts.” She heard well the whispers of him, saw his callous ways and yet when he was near she was unafraid. “If you persist in questioning me, I’ll bid you good eve, m’lord captor and leave this manor at once.”
“What do you hide? Who are you protecting?” He pulled her back until she stood before him, not releasing her arm. He ignored her threat. They both knew it to be idle. She couldn’t escape him or Lakeshire Castle. “Why will you not answer me?”
“Because I won’t be sent back to him,” she yelled before she could stop herself. She quickly covered her mouth, stunned by her own admission.
Maiden and the Monster Page 11
