Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
N ight was beginning to fall faster now that winter was here. The grounds surrounding the manor slick with sleet, snow not far away either. Gregory had made sure we all knew it was on its way as he always had. He also shared Grandmother’s fear of us going out in horrible weather. Whispers of his favouritism of Magdelena had always been common in the manor. Never anything predatory or untoward but always as if he were an uncle watching his niece.
Something that line of the family tree had never had. Most men of the Florian line had died before the next generation were born.
The ghost of Maaier’s touch lingered on my wrist. My gaze fell to my sleeve that covered the flesh he touched. The weight of his eyes on me still ghosting over me. My hands flexed in the bandages that Arthur had wrapped over my hands per Maaier’s incessant request. The man was becoming more and more like a thorn in my side with each passing hour. His eyes always followed my every move. At first I was uncomfortable but now, I found myself longing for him to approach me rather than stare at me like I was his most prized possession.
My mind wandered to his dark eyes. A small shred of me wondered what colour they would be. If they would mirror the darkest seas or whether they truly were midnight itself. I hadn't seen a shade or even a hint of red since that ill fated night in the library after Maaier left. A small shred of me longed to see it again. Even if only once.
I hadn’t dared to tell anyone, believing that in my dying state I imagined the foreign colour and those that come after it. That I was hallucinating as a result of Arthur’s tonics for the pain that he was still feeding me daily. They had stopped working long ago as there was no more pain but I wasn’t going to tell him that. It seemed as if the small task gave him purpose in the manor despite his job outside.
The bedroom door creaked as I pushed it open. The stiff neckline of my dress was stifling in the cool air. My fingers moved to pull it away from my neck. I would rather look at that horrible mark now scared into my chest than be choked any longer.
Letting my hair down, I shuffled toward the bed. The silken sheets called to me like an old friend.
A small wrinkle caught my eye amongst the fabric. Only it wasn’t a wrinkle. As I approached, I noticed a small shred of parchment laying on the surface. My breathing hitched. My heart pounded as my mind raced with fear. The paper trembled in my grasp.
Curly delicate handwriting written on a shredded piece of a faded novel. A familiarity with the font took me by surprise. Where had I seen this script before?
Bile rose into my throat.
Who left this? Was it my attacker? Were they back to finish me off?
I should tell Maaier. I needed to tell Maaier. Yet I remained still, rooted to the spot. My mind spinning. They were in my room. A wave of dread washed over me. This was it. My last night alive. Again.
The moon shone through the windows, full and bright in the sky through the forest. My throat thickened. A lump lodging itself within.
Clenching my fist around the paper, I walked toward the door. A chill of brisk cold air rolled over the doorway. Only getting thicker the further I ascended into the hallway. My heart picked up once more, pounding against my tight chest. A scuttle sounded down the hall toward Grandmother’s room. Stepping as lightly as I could, I made my way down to the kitchen. The moonlight guided me through the halls as I crept past each room. No sound coming from any.
Arthur was supposed to relieve Maaier at night for a few hours so he could rest. I didn’t want to be caught by him. Having any of the men hover over me each moment of everyday was bad enough.
I searched the benches. Finding what I needed. My fingers toyed with the knife's handle. It wasn’t the biggest but it would have to do. The same scuttle sounded beyond the room. My eyes followed the sound. I gripped the handle tighter, holding it out as the scurry got closer. I braced for impact. The cold air still covering the manor only growing thicker. I waited on baited breath. Hoping that whatever was out there would leave. The scurrying stopped. I stepped forward. The dark hallway illuminated only slightly, the moonlight dimming from clouds. Narrowing my eyes. I watched as the sound began again.
A rat moved its way through the doorway scurrying out a hole in the wall and back out. A horrified scream lodged in my throat. I hated rats. But this time, I had never been more welcoming of the vermin in my life. As I hesitated to go outside I pondered my choices. I could go back to bed and act as if I never found the note or I could go be a fool and investigate who wanted me outside.
This fear ended tonight.
I moved as silently as I could, moving back toward the back gardens.
The greenhouse loomed in the yard. Only a slight walk from the house.
Greenery that once bloomed within now withered in the harsh cold. The breeze bit at my exposed face, prickling my nose. My heart galloped in my chest. Blood roared through my ears. Whoever was lurking within would have seen me by now. There was no point at delaying the inevitable. With one last look behind me at the looming dark manor, I entered the greenhouse.
The scent of soil and shrubbery filled my nose. My once most calming scent now sending a shiver of unease through me. The glass house was silent. I strained my ears for a noise. No tell of anyone being here.
My fingers ran over the wooden bench in the centre of the room. The greenhouse was only the size of the library. Grandfather had once been interested in plants but never once continued his endeavour after Mother was born. Or so I was told. I didn’t believe it for a second. The tools in here were worn long before I ever stepped foot in here.
The knife glinted in the soft light beside me, shuffling briefly sounded behind me.
I froze. My bandaged hand gripped the blade tighter. I spun to face them.
No one. I was losing my mind.
With a rush of air, a gloved hand gripped my face. Cupping my mouth. I froze. Silently cursing myself for not fighting.
“Aren’t you an obedient little thing?” A velvety voice sounded behind me. Despite the circumstance, my body softened. The scent of saffron and cedar filled my nose. The hand slipped from my face allowing air to enter my lungs once more. The scent familiar enough to slow my racing pulse.
“This is rather improper, Maaier,” I said. My voice failed as I turned to face him. His grin widened as he noticed the knife in my hand.
“I am glad you came prepared.” He tilted his chin toward the useless weapon.
“Well, when a stranger leaves a note in your bedroom, one would assume it best to bring a form of defence.” I smiled as sweetly as I could, knowing full well he could see right through it.
Maaier chuckled. His long gloved fingers moved forward. Brushing mine as he gently pulled the kitchen knife from me. My heart bloomed to life at his touch. A dimple arose in his left cheek as he smirked. He placed the blade on the workbench. Turning his dark gaze back on me. Long hair swept back behind him.
“Why am I here?” I straightened as I spoke. Trying my hardest to shake off how much I admired the way he smiled at me.
“I wanted to see how well you took orders from strangers.”
The words rattled through me. As if sensing the change, Maaier reached out. A single hand moving forward toward my throat. His fingers closed over softly. The grip slowly tightening. The warm feeling from earlier spread through me. An almost aching need forming within. Maaier’s lips moved closer to mine.
“Such a beautiful little thing.” He spoke softly as he admired me once more. Drinking in my every feature. Tilting my head side to side as if imprinting my image to his memory. My eyes never leaving his.
The hand on my throat drifting lower. His fingers leaving a wave of gooseflesh over my skin. Stopping exactly at the centre of the cross. My breathing halted in my throat. Maaier towered over me. His hand dangerously close to my breasts. I had never been touched by another man before. Yet I so desperately longed for this strange man’s touch. I barely knew him. How could he possibly have this effect on me?
His hands moved down. Gripping my hips, he pulled me up. Setting me down on the workbench. I sat eye to eye with the strange man. His hands were placed beside me, caging me into him. It was not as if I would run. Not now anyway. I craved the demolition in his eyes.
“You smell like roses,” He breathed. Words fell flat on my tongue, left unspoken in the heat of his touch.
My own trembling hands reached out to touch him. Meeting a hard wall of clothed muscle on his chest. He drew in a quick breath, his body growing rigid.
“Be careful, Vespera. You have no idea how hard it is to restrain myself around you.” He puffed.
“And what if I do not want you to restrain yourself?” I breathed, looking up at him through my lashes. Maaier chuckled darkly. He shifted closer, his hips moving between my legs. I remained still as stone. His lips mere inches from mine.
“Soon enough, sweet bloom. Soon enough I won’t need to restrain myself. You will be mine. Mine to indulge in. Mine to lose myself in, only to find myself once more.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his hand cupping my face. “Tell me Vespera, has another man tasted these lips?”
I shook my head. Too breathless to formulate a response.
Maaier hummed his approval. A wicked gleam in his gaze.
“Good girl.”
I don’t know why those words had such an effect on me. I wanted nothing more than for him to lay me back and do as he pleases with me. To use my body as we both so desperately craved. I was close to praying when he drifted back.
Panic rippled through me.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked softly. I was afraid of his response. He had probably been with multiple women. Why would he be interested in a pure woman such as myself?
“You could never do anything wrong.” He smiled. “Come, let’s get you to bed.” He offered his hand. I took it with my mind racing.
What on earth had just happened?