Maiden and the Monster

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Chapter Seven

  Eden’s night was full of restless dreams and she awoke the next morning weary from her sleepless night. The gown she wore pulled uncomfortably at her skin, and she suddenly wished she’d gotten up in the middle of the night to don some nightclothes. But she hadn’t dared to anger Vladamir more. He slept so quietly that she didn’t know if he truly slumbered or if he lay awake waiting for her to defy him.

  She turned to find her husband already awake, studying her intently. He once again wore his black tunic. The eve before when he’d thrown the garment on the floor, she got the impression that he deliberately tried to shock her. It had worked but not in the way he meant it to. Instead of fearing him her heart went out to him.

  Vladamir moved stealthily to tower above her. His hands rested in fists on his lean hips. Black circles smudged under his eyes, belying the fact that he also slept poorly.

  “M’lord?” she asked, hesitating. Vladamir was a breathtakingly handsome man. His gaze pierced her and she cowered beneath him. Although his strength excited her, she knew it could very well be deadly. “Are you still angry with me?”

  His eyes narrowed even more to soundlessly answer her question. Eden noticed he was completely dressed for the day, except for his bare feet. She waited for him to speak, wanting to hear the smooth accent tell her that all was right and that he wasn’t upset. A knock sounded from outside the chamber. Vladamir sighed and moved to answer the door.

  “M’lord?” Eden asked, unsure what she would say if he answered her. Inching her bottom to the edge of the bed, she stood. The pain in her chest grew as she realized he wasn’t going to turn around to acknowledge her.

  “Yea?” Vladamir snarled as he forced open the door. Grabbing the top of the door, he pulled it to his elbow and leaned into the hard wood, blocking Eden from sight.

  Eden studied the fierce line of his muscled back. It was so hard, so unforgiving. She knew not what she’d done to deserve his callous treatment of her. Lifting her chin into the air, she waited to see what the intruder wanted.

  “M’lord,” Ulric answered. The man glanced around Vladamir with a look of panic. When he saw her, he sighed with visible relief. Eden knew her face had to be pale and drawn and she wore her crumpled wedding gown.

  “I apologize fer the rude disturbance,” Ulric said, “but methought you should be notified. There are fires lit outside the castle. An army gathers even now.”

  A throaty growl escaped Vladamir. He pushed past the seneschal to assail upon those who would challenge his keep. Eden watched her husband’s back in silence. His long hair swayed with his body as he stormed from the chamber, stalking away without bothering to acknowledge her. He didn’t cover his bare feet.

  With a fearful leap in her chest, she felt her heart squeeze. It was as if he wasn’t interested in talking to her at all. She could see it in his expression, even before he learned of the army outside the castle gates. Why was he so displeased with her? Whatever the reason, she knew she’d better find out quickly. Her future depended on his good humor.

  “M’lady?” The seneschal made a move to leave, but stopped as he witnessed her wan expression. Wiping his sleeve over his bald forehead, he asked, “Is all well?”

  “Besides the fires of a siege?” Her words were thick with sarcasm. Then, realizing that she was taking her frustrations out on the wrong person, she softened her tone, “Yea. All is well.”

  “Very good, m’lady,” Ulric sighed, unwilling to probe too much.

  “M’lord forgot his boots. I should take them to him,” Eden mumbled to herself, unwilling to let her husband run away from her so quickly and glad for an excuse to seek him out. The people of the manor seemed to let the duke dwell too often in his ill temper. She was going to make him face it and she intended on pestering him until he did.

  Kneeling on the floor she reached under the bed in search for the discarded shoes. She still wore her wedding tunic from the night before and her feet were bare. Sighing in exasperation, she leaned close to the stone floor to peer under the bed. The shoes had made their way far under and she had to lean down close to the stone to reach them. Finally as her fingers touched the rough leather, she pulled them to her. Standing quickly, she brushed off the cream colored tunic and pressed the boots to her nervous chest.

  “The land is at peace, who would lay siege to the castle?”

  Ulric had walked so far ahead that he didn’t hear her question. With a sigh of exasperation, she moved to the door. Suddenly, she stopped with a slight jolt of alarm, stubbing her toe on the vial of blood Vladamir had given her. It clanked across the stone floor but didn’t break.

  “Such a lovely morgen-gifu,” she said as she picked the vial up. Dropping the shoes onto the stone by her dried piece of chamomile, she quickly shut the door to the chamber and went to the bed. Her words held a sarcastic ring as she mumbled, “So thoughtful of my dear, monstrously tempered husband to remember me.”

  Well, m’lord. What is done shall forever remain done, for I won’t go back to my father’s keep.

  Eden took a deep breath and tore back the fur coverlet they’d used the night before. Pulling at the crude plug in the top of the vial, she was careful not to spill any of the blood on her expensive gown. Holding her breath, she flung the liquid onto the satiny linen.

  Eden watched the deep red fluid stain the beautiful beige material with some regret. She hoped that the linen hadn’t cost him a fortune and wouldn’t permanently stain. The blood stopped spreading and she nodded her head in satisfaction. “‘Til death us depart, m’lord.”

  She turned back to the discarded shoes, picking them up with grim determination. Then grabbing the flower with more gentleness, she found she didn’t have the heart to dispose of it. There was no safe place to stow it so she buried it in the tight fitting sleeve of her gown. She would just have to request her own trunk from the servants.

  Eden made her own way down the dark corridor, stopping by a door that led to a chamber she knew to be empty. She opened the door and gently rolled the empty vial into the darkness.

  “There, m’lord, ‘tis done.” She frowned, regretting the need for secrecy, but as she continued down the hall a smile played on her features. Hugging his shoes to her chest, she was intent on delivering them to him straightway. The smile widened as she thought of her husband’s handsomely angry face.

  Let him try to disregard me again. I won’t be ignored so easily.

  * * * * *

  “M’lord,” Eden hesitated, shading the morning sun from her eyes to watch Vladamir climb down from the wall. Holding her wedding gown high in her hands, she kept it from the dirt. It was still very early in the morning hours. By her guess, the men outside the castle set up camp within the night, mayhap even during her wedding and lit the fires with the dawn. She heard the soldiers on the other side of the wall. Their strong voices shouted unrecognizable commands over the distance. The sound startled her as she naturally moved closer to where her husband would land on the ground.

  Looking up with a lump forming in her throat, she watched in breathlessness as the duke jumped the rest of the way down from the wooden ladder. Eden couldn’t get over how handsome he was, and now having seen firsthand his muscled upper body, she found herself staring at it in hopes of catching a glimpse. She knew that his scars caused him much grief, knew also that many would feel the same if they had them. But she found they only added to his dangerous allure, his primal heathen attractiveness.

  Eden longed for what he’d started the eve before. It was to have been the night they consummated the marriage. She wasn’t sure what took place exactly during this consummation, but she knew that if it felt anything like his lips pressed to hers, she would enjoy it. As she looked him over, she wished he wouldn’t wear his collar so high to his neck. Many men showed their chests as was the style, then why not her husband?

  The scars, Eden concluded dismally. But I care not about the damned scars.

  The duke’s feet were st
ill bare so she didn’t feel so foolish holding his shoes to her chest. Eden could see the tendons working under his skin as they ran up from his masculine toes to the fronts of his ankles. The bottoms were caked with mud and a bloody smudge swept over the callused flesh of one arch. She gasped as she rushed the rest of the way to him.

  “You’re hurt,” she breathed heavily in concern, her eyes narrowed to study his injury.

  Vladamir lifted a bemused eyebrow at the statement. He followed her worried gaze downward as he turned his heel to better see the inside of his foot where he’d scraped it. “Nay, ‘tis naught but a slight graze. I’ve had much worse in battle.”

  Eden licked her lips and held out his shoes. “You forgot these under the bed. Methought you might have need of them and I see I was right.”

  Leaning against the stone wall, he swiped the mud from his feet with his hand and quickly slipped into the leather shoes. Then, with more concentration than was necessary, he tied the laces and secured them into place.

  “‘Tis a siege, m’lord?”

  “It would appear so.” Vladamir nodded as if it was an everyday occurrence and nothing to be distraught over.

  “What have you done?” Eden shivered in fright, swinging back around to face him. “The land is at peace. Why would any want to start a war?”

  “‘Tis hardly a war, m’lady.” Vladamir laughed, the sound rang almost sarcastic as it echoed in his accent. He pushed himself away from the wall and took a lazy step toward her. His eyes darkened seductively as he lowered his jaw to argue. “The land is never at peace, only in short periods of rest between wars.”

  “‘Tis a most cold opinion you have of the world. It would imply that the wars of past were fought for naught. That the lives lost in those wars were for naught,” she countered as she met his eyes. “It leaves nary a ground for hope.”

  The duke thoughtfully narrowed his eyes at her sentiment, but didn’t answer. It was as if her convictions amused him. Eden’s mouth suddenly felt dry at his attention. If not for the look, she would’ve believed he’d forgotten their kiss the night before. She knew she couldn’t forget, for her body heated anew at the reminder. Feeling insecure as a flush darkened her cheeks, she glanced away from his probing eyes. It was a mistake, for her eyes went straight to the strange, growing hardness that pressed against his tunic. She no longer felt as if she had to avert her gaze from him, though she still didn’t know what she’d done to deserve his wrath in the first place.

  Mayhap, I’m not an accomplished lover. Perchance, ‘tis only that I have disappointed him, Eden thought with a worried frown, for she didn’t know how to be better. Or perchance my husband is a man who will never be pleased.

  Her thoughts turned to the wall as a shouted command came from the distance. She jolted in fear at the harsh reply that the yell received. Never before had she been in a castle while it was besieged by an army. She looked over her shoulder as she took an involuntary step toward the ill-tempered duke. The wall prevented her from seeing anything unusual.

  “Who is it?” she asked, aware of how much time had passed in silence. Not taking her eyes away from where the growth pressed against his tunic. She wondered if the monster was changing shape. A moment’s fear overwhelmed her, until she found that she was oddly excited and not at all scared.

  “The banner,” Vladamir paused and suddenly frowned as if he remembered what was happening outside his castle walls. He shifted his waist so the tunic fell forward and away from his bulging erection. “The banner is that of your father.”

  Her head jolted up in surprise. Eden shivered at his claim, believing to understand his thoughts. In an effort to change his mind, she leaned forward to plead with him. “You cannot send me back there, no matter what you believe. Remember your promise. I have your word of honor.”

  A firm press of his mouth was his only answer as Vladamir tilted his head to the side. He folded his arms menacingly over his chest.

  “Please, don’t think it.” Eden looked over his shoulder as if she saw through the stone of the wall to her father’s army. She knew her father commanded many men, men who were loyal to the earl because they believed him to be a man of great power and in many ways the soldiers were right in the assumption. She shook her head in apprehension. “Just make him leave, I beg it of you. If you’re skilled at all in the black arts, frighten him and make him leave.”

  “I cannot force him to go afore he makes the decision himself. All I can offer is incentive.”

  “You cannot mean to give me to him?” Finally, unable to keep her hands from him a moment longer she flung herself forward to pull at his arm. “You promised you’d kill me first. I won’t wed Luther. You weren’t there. You cannot know what he is capable of.”

  “Do you forget your vows so soon, dear wife?” he asked in cynical amusement as he dispassionately untangled her hand from his forearm. “Methinks it speaks poorly of my worth as a husband.”

  “Nay.” Eden faltered under his gaze. Letting his arm go, she took a step away from his preoccupied dark eyes and regained her composure. She tilted her chin proudly in the air. “Methought that is what you meant as incentive. Methought you meant to send me back and deny the marriage, since ‘tis not yet truly consummated. It would be the easiest route for you, being that your men aren’t matched to my father’s army.”

  “We could rectify the consummation quickly if you’re so concerned. Mayhap then you’ll remember who your new lord and master is,” he offered with a cruel smile. “Should I lift your skirts and take you right here in the bailey? There would be plenty of witnesses to attest to the marriage being done.” When she shot him an alarmed look, he chuckled under his breath. “Besides, have you forgotten also my reasons for marrying you? It wouldn’t be revenge if I was to send you back to him, unless ‘twas dead and I’m not yet sure that is your best purpose.”

  Eden gasped at the dark look of hatred that overcame his face. She took yet another step back as he stalked her. Her hand trembled and she dropped her gown into the dirt. Hastily, she grabbed it back up but it was too late. The hem was dirty.

  “Don’t worry about the consummation,” he stated, continuing forward with his wicked smile firmly in place. His gaze dipped to the exposed tops of her breast. Her blood heated at the look. “We will tend to that detail soon enough.”

  Eden shivered at the promise in his words, though in her opinion they didn’t seem to bring him much pleasure. He grabbed the arm that held her tunic.

  “What?” she questioned in a panic. “Do you mean to hurt me? Will you decide to maim me as your revenge? You’re not going to consummate…here? Now?”

  “M’lady,” Vladamir said, his lips curled in mischievous delight. He leaned forward to whisper darkly into her ear. “What I do to you remains to be seen. Methinks that remains mostly on you. Have you a confession to make?”

  “You said never to lie to you, so, nay, I have no confession.”

  “Very well.” He didn’t let her go. “Then shall we make your father welcome?”

  “What games are you playing at? I don’t understand.” Eden raised a shaking hand to plead with him as she pulled in vain to free herself. “You cannot invite him in. He might hurt you.”

  “M’lady, ‘tis you who plays games. Now cease your womanly hysterics, they make my head ache.” Vladamir leaned over and grabbed the hem of her wedding gown. He yanked it roughly from her grasp. Eden froze, sure he was going to make good on his threats and take her right there in the bailey as his men watched. He ripped off a large piece of the expensive tunic with three hard jerks. Gripping it in his hand, he turned and waved to a nearby knight.

  “Hand this up the wall,” he stated to the man as he passed him the cloth.

  “How dare you disrobe me out here?” Eden seethed, skirting away from him. Taking a few steps to distance herself, she glared at him openly. She felt a pang of anger at the torn dress.

  “I can disrobe you wherever and whenever I like. I can lead you through th
is bailey naked. You are my wife,” he answered with a sneer as he walked to the main gate. Relief flooded her when he didn’t move to take her against the wall. He lifted his hand and motioned at a soldier. The man nodded his head and Eden saw him wave her dress in the air, like a battle prize.

  Vladamir turned back to her, a gleam of merriment lining his grim eyes, only to say, “Get abovestairs and change. We shall greet your father and tell him the joyous news of our union.”

  Eden shivered at his cold laughter. It sung out over the yard as she ran from him.

  I don’t know this man who is my husband. Mayhap, I did truly marry a monster.

  Vladamir watched Eden run from him with a shallow sense of victory. Her round gaze had sought him with such naiveté that he was hard-pressed to believe anything she had ever said to him. But that would be foolish.

  He wouldn’t be swayed by a pretty face. As he’d pulled on his shoes, he’d let his gaze travel leisurely over the alluring length of her form—from her hair as it floated in the breeze to her small ears then past to the delicate line of her throat and the pulse that beat erratically there. Her face had been calm, but she’d nervously sucked on her lower lip while looking at his erection. It had taken all his willpower not to suggest putting her mouth to better use.

  Watching her run off now, he felt his braes tighten even more. By all the gods! What is this woman doing to me?

  Even though the duke knew her deceit as a woman, he couldn’t help wanting to touch her. Every time she was near, he had the insane urge to hold her and protect her. Part of him wasn’t even mad at her, though he did distrust her. He liked to make her angry, just to see where her heated passions would bring her. He felt a strong urge to make her mad more often.

  Vladamir turned to the main gate and waited patiently for Clifton’s reply to his call of a truce. The duke didn’t know how the earl would gather that his daughter was at Lakeshire Castle, unless she’d been placed there by her father’s deceit. Vladamir hadn’t told anyone about his captive, not even while checking in with the king. It was unlikely the servants had gossiped outside of the manor, since none had left Lakeshire in a long time.