Maiden and the Monster

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “You’re coming with me. We will have it annulled. We ride for King Alfred at once.” Clifton moved to grab her, but hesitated as Vladamir stepped in his way. Growling, he looked around for help and found none.

  The hall filled with the mumbled protests of the soldiers of Lakeshire. A few of the men even stood from the tables. All let their mead rest untouched as they stared at the group. The unwelcome guests looked about the manor with bravado and backed away.

  “My place is here. I’m staying with my husband. There is no ground to annul the marriage,” Eden said as she took Vladamir’s arm. Then, in a show of defiance, she looked demurely at her husband. Finally after a shy smile of adoration came over her face, she turned to her father. “The marriage was consummated last night. Check the bed linens if you don’t believe me. You’re a day too late.”

  Vladamir tensed at her words. She glanced at him through the thick of her lashes and gave him a hesitant smile, her gaze begging him to trust her. He understood her silent look and nodded his head.

  “I don’t believe you,” Luther stated boldly. “‘Tis a trick. Where is your ring? You don’t know what consummation is. That is why you say such things.”

  She shook her head in denial and licked her lips as she looked to Vladamir’s mouth. The obviously planned action had the desired effect on Luther. Much to Vladamir’s amusement, the man turned white in anger. Eden smiled defiantly at her father.

  “You’re still pure, are you not?” Luther asked. The dark complexion of his face turned to a ruddy red. He looked about the manor for confirmation. “You said so.”

  “Nay, my father assumed so.” Eden trembled but didn’t let go of her husband’s arm. “I’m not pure. In fact I’m far from it. We are man and wife and if you must know, we consummated this union at least fourteen times last night. So there is no disclaiming it.”

  By all the saints! Fourteen times in one night?

  The duke was amazed that his wife dared to make such an outrageous claim. In his day he prided himself on his virility, but fourteen? His little wife was indeed more naive than he had given her credit for, or more stupid. He struggled and finally succeeded in hiding his smile. His wife really did have high expectations of his performance. Though, by the twitching of his arousal, his body was more than willing to try and prove her words true.

  The gathered maidservants gasped and murmured in surprise. A few gave the duke looks of feminine appreciation and wonder. The younger girls looked at him in horror and at Eden in pity. The fighting men grunted in admiration of their lord, a few of them snickering at the very idea.

  Eden’s confused expression turned up to him and he could practically see the question in her eyes. He was hard-pressed not to laugh.

  “You wretched whore,” Clifton screamed in outrage, eyeing Vladamir warily. His short body shook with his indignation. “I don’t believe it. He’s making you say such things.”

  “Lizbeth.” Eden turned to the girl. The servant hovered with a group of maids outside the kitchen door. “Go to his lordship’s chamber and produce the bridal linen for all to see, so that none can deny the validity of this marriage.”

  “Take Lady Eden and one of Clifton’s soldiers with you,” Vladamir added as he agreed with his wife’s command. “So that they know there is no deceit.”

  “‘Tis not necessary, m’lord. I’ll stay here, if ‘tis your will. I already believe that it happened,” Eden said, just loud enough for her father to hear. She gave her husband another demure smile before blushing.

  Vladamir nodded to her, granting her request. He didn’t want her from his sight at the moment anyway, lest Clifton’s man take it upon himself to restore the earl of his daughter. He felt exhilaration at the torment in the older man’s face and it wasn’t lost on him that Eden’s actions were the cause of that torment.

  The gathered crowd waited in silence for the maid to return with the linens. Vladamir felt Eden’s hand shake as she hugged herself to him. When he glanced down, he saw her bloodied face. Her body trembled against his and he saw her fear. At that moment he knew that he was the lesser of two evils for her, and that she was indeed not in league with her father.

  Vladamir trained his eyes steadily on the intruders. Their gazes met in silent battle. It seemed an eternity before Lizbeth’s steps sounded on the stairwell. The maid emerged carrying the linen and the soldier solemnly trailed behind her.

  Clifton’s knight appeared as if he saw a spirit flitting about the manor’s hall. When he stepped before the throng, he couldn’t meet the earl’s eye. His face was ashen and he looked to the floor. Lizbeth’s face was pale and drawn. Without waiting to be commanded, she jerked the satiny material and unrolled it for all to see.

  The onlookers gasped at the sight. A light murmur began in the crowd as they all looked to Eden in horror. The noblewoman blushed at the scrutiny, drawing closer to his side. A few of the Saxon soldiers shook their heads in puzzlement. One of the duke’s Northumbrian warriors chuckled.

  As the red bloodstain stared back at them, Clifton’s face turned scarlet with anger. “What have you done to my daughter, you barbarian? You unearthly monster. You demon spawn. You’ll pay for this.”

  Vladamir hid his amusement at the stain, not caring what damage it might do to his reputation. His wife poured the whole of the vial on the linens, making it look as if he was most barbaric in his treatment of her the eve before. But it wasn’t the size of the oblong stain in which he found the most amusement, it was the placement of it. From the look of the linen he’d taken her maidenhead through her throat.

  “You have your proof, now draw your soldiers away,” Vladamir stated coldly. He had to bite the inside of his lip in the effort it took not to laugh. Pushing Eden behind his back, he put his fists on his hips. “Or I’ll petition King Alfred. ‘Tis my land you trespass on.”

  “Lizbeth, you can take that to laundry,” Eden commanded in a frantic hush from behind him. He felt her move and could just imagine the hurried wave she gave the woman.

  “But—the ceremony. It cannot be binding. It doesn’t stand if ‘tis done to his pagan gods. It won’t be recognized,” Clifton protested weakly. His broad chest puffed with rage.

  “I’m converted to King Alfred’s religion a year past. Mayhap you didn’t know. King Alfred himself was at my baptism and one of the king’s priests performed the wedding ceremony. ‘Tis most binding.” Vladamir smiled wickedly at the man’s discomfort. “The documents are being finished by the priest today.”

  “Yea, Father,” Eden broke in. She came to the duke’s side and he saw the taunting amusement that flitted over her features when she looked at her father’s irate face. “I have given the duke my dowry on your behalf, though I’m sure you’ll want to add to the sum. I promised him only that which I knew could be given—my inheritance from my mother’s estate. Please send it along with some of my wardrobe. As Luther pointed out, I’m not able to dress as a duchess without it. ‘Tis too inconvenient of a time to have more gowns sewn.”

  “I don’t believe your insolent tongue,” Clifton said.

  “Believe it Father,” Eden leaned closer to Vladamir. “There is naught you can do about it. ‘Tis done.”

  “Look behind you. There are your witnesses,” Vladamir stated, his temper growing in bounds at the earl’s persistence. “Raulf, step forward.”

  Raulf stood from the quiet table where the knights sat. He smiled graciously and nodded his head. “M’lord.”

  “Tell them,” Vladamir ordered not looking directly at the man he summoned. His eyes bored with victory into the earl’s. He silently drank in every sorrowful movement of the older man’s face.

  “Yea, I bore witness,” the man said in a loud steady voice. “‘Twas a most binding and proper ceremony, performed by the same priest the king sent here to man the village church. Not one detail was missed. We all bore witness.”

  “You won’t get away with this.” Luther fumed, tired of waiting for Clifton. “She is to be my w
ife. I won’t stand for it. She is bound to me. We were as good as wed.”

  “Since honor dictates it, I’ll pay you for your inconvenience. Name a fair price.” Vladamir smiled as he reached behind his back to grab Eden. Pulling her into his arms, he held her possessively to his chest. Her forehead pressed against the linen of his tunic and her shoulders trembled under his embrace. She didn’t fight him as he wrapped his arms completely around her in protection.

  “I won’t have money—” Luther began.

  “Fine, then ‘tis settled, for you’re not taking the duchess.” Vladamir nodded his head to Raulf. “Escort them out.”

  “Yea, m’lord.” Raulf turned to go and waited for the men to follow. Several knights stood unbidden as they moved to help Raulf.

  “Luther will stay outside the castle to make sure you don’t try to escape. I’ll ride to the king at once. I’m a trusted and loyal leader of the Witan. You’ll pay for this insult on my name. Ealdorman Baudoin will demand your head afore I am done.” Clifton stormed angrily from the castle. Lord Luther turned on his heels to follow behind.

  Vladamir watched the men leave before easing his hold on his wife’s slender form. Leaning his chin on her hair, he smiled victoriously over her head. Absently, he ran his hands over her back in a soft caress. She clung to his side long after her father’s soldiers followed their lord out of the hall. In a whispering sigh, her breath fanned over his tunic.

  Realizing they were being watched, Vladamir cleared his throat. Eden looked up at him from the confines of his chest. Her round eyes stared innocently into his. He tilted his head in question, glancing briefly over the tight hold of her embrace.

  “Forgive me,” Eden said softly, dropping his arm. Her nose had bled onto his tunic shirt, though it didn’t show readily on the black material. Grimacing, she swiped the blood with her hand. The motion didn’t help. Finally, unable to wipe away the stain, she sighed and dropped her hands. “Thank you for keeping your word.”

  Vladamir lifted his finger to lightly touch the end of her nose. He frowned at the swipe of blood that ran across her cheek and down her chin. Already the bridge swelled with a purple bruise.

  “I know.” Eden tried to hide her nose under her hand and turned from him. “I must look hideous.”

  Vladamir was about to answer when he looked up. The onlookers were quiet, watching the noble couple in awed silence. He swallowed over the lump in his chest and ignored the low thud of his heart.

  “I’ll go clean up,” Eden said when he didn’t answer her. She rushed from him holding her nose, nearly running through the crowd in her haste to be gone.

  Vladamir was disappointed at her withdrawal but let her leave. He felt the coolness of her blood on his chest and quietly motioned the gathered throng to depart. The duke wanted to go after his wife but knew he couldn’t as he walked toward the bailey. He first needed to make sure his uninvited guests left without incident.

  “Fourteen times?” a redheaded soldier asked with a knowing nod of his head. He moved to follow Vladamir as the soldiers who heard the jibe laughed with merriment.

  Vladamir didn’t show his surprise at the comment, nor did he answer when several others added their own jests to the first barb. Never had the Saxon men approached him so freely. The duke found he quite enjoyed their easy banter. As one of the men pounded him on the back, Vladamir smiled and said with much seriousness, “What? Don’t you bring a woman pleasure that oft in a single eve?”

  The men laughed louder showing a newfound respect for their leader.

  * * * * *

  Eden trembled with the memory of the warmth of her husband’s strong hold. She felt safe in his arms. His chest was hard and lean and his arms were like a pleasurable vise binding her to his manly body. The tips of her breasts ached where her nipples had pressed into his tunic. A curling heat lit in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t wanted to move as she took comfort in his unyielding strength.

  Now that she was away from the hall, she didn’t know what to do. By the reaction of the witnesses, she had a feeling she’d done something wrong with the linens. However, she couldn’t begin to guess what.

  What am I to do? The king cannot annul this marriage. I cannot marry that miserable lout of a toad, Luther. I’d rather die the most horrid of deaths. I’d rather be turned alive on the rack, hung in the gallows…

  “Cease!” Eden cursed herself as the mental imagery of her thoughts came forth in her mind. Gingerly touching the tender bridge of her nose, she shook her head. “I must not think such things.”

  Withdrawing her hand, she fidgeted with the cord at her waist and paced around the small bed in her bedchamber. It was smaller than that of her husband’s. She’d thought it nice, despite the sparse belongings, until she saw the luxury of the duke’s larger chamber. His room was also sparse in decoration, but his bed was freshly stuffed and more comfortable. Albeit, she’d been too preoccupied the night before to properly appreciate it. She refused to go back to Vladamir’s room.

  After the way he acted in the hall, she wasn’t sure she would be welcomed in the duke’s bedchamber anyway. It was true in many noble households that husband and wife slept in different beds.

  But that cannot be my household. Not yet. For if my father knew that I was estranged so quickly from my husband after we wed, it would give him further evidence to the king. There is no way Alfred would let the marriage stand. Not if Luther was willing to take me tainted. I must stay married to the duke at any cost. But how does one convince a king? And even more puzzling is how does one convince a husband?

  “Yea?” she called to the door in irritation at a soft knock. Eden held her breath, hoping it was Vladamir in search of her and knew that it wasn’t.

  What could be the most sensible reason for the king to allow this marriage to hold true?

  Political alliance? Possible.

  Money? The duke has none.

  “Heirs,” Eden exhaled, smiling with the brilliance of her plan. The king would have to let her remained married if she was with child and her father wouldn’t like that big of a scandal attached to the name of Hawks’ Nest, no matter how disappointed he was in her choice.

  “An heir, m’lady?” Haldana laughed merrily at the door. She shook her head in denial, the short curls bobbed with her energetic excitement. “Nay, ‘tis too soon to tell. Takes a full two sennights, I believe, and even then you cannot be certain.”

  “Wh-what?” Eden spun around, embarrassed that she’d spoken aloud and without censure. “I didn’t say heirs. I said hairs.”

  “Hair, m’lady?” The servant woman carried a basket of herbs in her hands, which she balanced on one plump hip. She turned to close the door, her expression doubtful.

  “Yea, I was wondering why the duke didn’t choose to cut his hairs,” Eden lied shamelessly. In truth she liked Vladamir’s long waves. She narrowed her eyes as she spied the basket. Almost remorsefully, Eden touched the bridge of her nose and winced. It still throbbed. She could taste a tinge of blood in her mouth where the blow struck the tender skin of her lips against her teeth.

  She tried not to let her eyes spill over with tears as she remembered her husband’s cold face when he watched her father’s treatment of her. Well, in Vladamir’s defense, he had punched her father in the chin. Still, she’d thought her husband would’ve protected her.

  When had she begun to feel so safe with the duke? When had she gotten to feel so unjustly secure? Sure, Vladamir came to her aid but too late. By that time she’d been face down in the rushes, her nose bleeding for the entire hall to see. She tried not to feel resentment at Vladamir’s indifference but couldn’t help it. Resolving to take a new approach to handling her ill-natured husband, she took a deep breath. If she were to keep the marriage, it would take a lot of planning on her part.

  “How did you know I was here?” Eden asked.

  Grinning at her mistress, Haldana winked. “Methought you might be hiding here.”

  Eden smiled halfheart
edly at the older woman as the servant bounced about the room. She dropped her hand from her nose and sat on the bed. Edging back on the mattress, she moved to lie on her side and looked up at Haldana. “What have you got there?”

  “Herbs,” Haldana answered with another wink. Her voice was ever pleasant as if nothing was amiss. “Fer yer nose.”

  “Oh.” Eden sighed at the reminder. Looking around her in embarrassment, she resisted the urge to feel her face again.

  “You heal fast, m’lady, but methinks this will help.” The servant went about her business, digging through the contents of the basket to set vials and jars next to Eden on the bed. Watching with interest, she knew she’d never been useful when it came to using herbs. Her father didn’t believe in such nonsense like the use of healing poultices. He thought it best to “live out” any ailments.

  “‘Tis a brave thing you have done, m’lady,” Haldana said as she finally set the basket on the bed next to the vials. She lifted a crude, wooden bowl and set it on the small table in the corner. There was a little bit of water at the bottom of the bowl, which Haldana used to mix the herbs.

  “Brave?” Eden pushed her hand into the mattress, lifting her tired body slowly up in surprise. “Because I stood up to my father?”

  “Nay, because you wed the duke.” The woman scratched her whitening hair in thought before picking up a dried herb. Nodding to herself, she dumped it in the bowl.

  “But, why—?”

  “Why would I say such a thing?” Haldana lifted several dried herbs from her basket to stroke the seeds off of them and into the water and poured a few contents of the vials into the mixture. After several seconds she was mixing a paste with her fingers. “Because you look as if you need to hear it.”

  “Haldana,” Eden tried to insert but was once again interrupted.