The Unknown Mistress - An Erotica and Romance Paranormal/Historical Novella
Page 4
Jany gasped and then pressed her back up against a wall. Stop it, she ordered herself. Are you trying to get yourself killed, you fool?
“I understand,” Jany said, desperate to escape before she did something she would regret. “I won’t say a thing to anyone. I promise.”
The baroness’s catlike smile widened. “Lovely,” she said. “Now let us leave this stairwell and return to our rooms. The storm rages, and I think the coming hours will be testing for us all.”
*
As soon as Jany had curtsied and said farewell to the baroness, she ran back to her room, pushed the door shut, and leaned against her wall. She felt as if she had run around city walls in deep mud. Cold sweat ran down her back. Despite all that had gone wrong, she was safe.
All she had wanted was a meal, and instead she had got lost, put her hands on a baroness, and nearly been arrested. Worse, if she had not restrained herself at the last moment, she would have laid more than her hands on the woman. Absolute lunacy. Clearly, she was madder than the so-called witchfinder. And she was still hungry. Sitting down on her bed, she sighed and rested her face in her palms. Why did nothing ever go as planned?
Thankfully, some kind soul had left two buckets of steaming hot water, a coarse scrub and a crudely cut slice of soap in a corner of the room. She was still ravenous, but at least she would not have to sleep dirty. That was a blessing. After the walk to the castle and the manic scene in the hall, she felt as if the witchfinder’s glare had left a layer of grime on her skin.
Upending the buckets over her head, Jany quickly washed herself and pulled her clothes back on. While the water was hot, its heat lasted only moments; the air was freezing cold.
A knock on her door made her start and spin around. Standing shivering in the middle of her room, she looked at the handle. Her nerves were truly on the verge of a collapse. “Who is there?” she asked.
“A delivery, mademoiselle,” a male, nervous voice said. “From the kitchen.”
After staring at the door for a few seconds, Jany hesitantly unlocked and opened it a crack. Outside the door stood a young man wearing a servant’s plain uniform. In his hands was a tray holding a large plate filled with carved ham, flanked by slices of bread dripping with honey. Next to the plate stood a mug with steaming spiced wine. Jany’s stomach roared like an overjoyed lion at the sight.
“One of the ladies ordered us to being you this,” the man said and looked down the hallway. Most likely, he wanted to bolt back to the kitchen as soon as he could.
“Oh.” Jany opened the door and snatched the tray from the man’s hands. “Thank you,” she said, smiled nervously, and closed the door in the man’s face before he changed his mind. When he did not knock again, Jany sat down and attacked the food.
A while later, Jany lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. The rain hammered against her window. Another week of this and the city would be completely flooded. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a long growl so low it was almost inaudible. There was no sense to the weather; it was too cold for thunderstorms, but apparently the climate had lost track of the seasons and had decided to have one anyway. Or perhaps the storm was brought here by darker, more sinister forces. She shivered and pulled the wool blanket over her. Hopefully, the night would not be so cold it kept her awake.
But the more she tried to clear her head, the more restless she grew. Too many strange things were happening too fast. Her thoughts whirled harder than the wind outside. A baroness, walking down alone and unguarded into the dungeons. That was just one mystery among many others, but one that kept bothering her. There was no way such a well-known person would wander down and deliberately seek out the might-be vampires. At least not without good reason.
Jany frowned at the ceiling as she tried to recall what she knew about vampires. Once, long ago, she had read about their supposed powers. It wasn’t the bloodsucking part – that was frightening enough – but what she struggled to remember was different. A mention about some other unnatural capability. The ability to change into bats, wolves and rats. They could even turn into a kind of green fog, some said. But they had also the power to –
Jany sat upright. Of course! Tales about vampires often said they could hypnotize people and bend their victims will.
So that was what had happened. The baroness had been put under a spell. There were no other possible explanations to why she would have gone down there. Maybe the maids had cast their charm on the baroness before they were exposed. That meant that the maids probably were vampires after all.
That was enough for one night. Tomorrow would be a long and testing day, and her head was spinning. It was time to sleep. Shuddering, she rose and made sure that the door was locked, then quickly returned to the bed and hurried in under the blanket. She pulled it up to her chin, glanced around the room a final time to make sure nothing hid in the shadows, then yawned hard, preparing to sink into oblivion.
Then she froze, her eyes wide open.
On the tray that the servant had brought was a small folded paper, held in place by the plate. It had to be a note; the servant would not have accidentally left a piece of paper there. It was too neatly folded and tucked in far under the plate. Discreet but meant to be seen. Definitely a message. She could even make out lines of ink where it had bled through the paper.
Jany stared at the note. Without doubt, it meant trouble. Few things were as lethal as intrigues when surrounded by paranoid people, and on this particular night, the duke’s home was packed with hundreds of men and woman who were scared witless. Terrified nobles with money and power. A recipe for disaster.
But she had to read the message. If she tried to sleep, curiosity would keep her awake all night.
Unfolding the note as if it might conceal a snake, she held her breath and brought the note close to her candle. Her hands were trembling badly. Part of her – that secret, hopeful side who had filled her mind with images of the baroness naked – anticipated who might have sent the note, and when she saw the elegant, flowing handwriting, she felt lightheaded.
Come to my chamber tonight when the church bells at Basilique Saint Sernin strike one. My room is at the top of the southern tower.
I am scared, and I need the company of someone I can trust.
There is something you must see.
Signed,
The Baroness of Orable
*
Jany reread the note over and over while thunder crashed in the distance. Her head had been spinning before; now her thoughts ran around in a mad dance. Was she hallucinating? Or dreaming? No, this was real. Dreams were less bizarre than this. She remembered hearing the nearby church bells ring midnight, and that had been a while ago. The baroness was expecting her to come soon.
Feeling the cold sweat return, Jany wanted to kick a wall. Why on Earth had she decided to go down into the basement in search for food? It was the silliest, most poorly planned course of action she ever had taken. She should have waited for a maid to pass her door and asked her for directions. Instead, she had wandered down into the one place where she absolutely should not go. Then she had stumbled headfirst into the baroness, that tall, proud woman, so powerful and beautiful that
No! Focus! Jany shook her head in irritation. Above all, the baroness was dangerous. All aristocrats were. They had money, influence, no care and no brains. Oh, and this one had might-be vampires for maids.
And now the baroness wanted Jany to come to her chambers. Fancies of all kinds pressed in on her mind as she thought about seeing the baroness in private. It was impossible not to imagine making love to that woman. A deep-buried longing burned strong in her, and now that it sensed a chance, it roared to life with a blind hunger. Was there was a chance that the baroness shared her preferences?
No. That was a ridiculous idea. Silly, suicidal subconscious! You’ll get me thrown into prison!
Fuming, Jany rose and walked around her room, then jumped when a single chime rang through the city. The hour had come. She press
ed the note to her chest and stared at the window. No more time to think. She could go, or she could hide in her room and hope that tomorrow would be more reasonable.
But she knew she had to go. Not only was she too curious, nervous and afraid to sleep; there was also the risk that the baroness might take a refusal the wrong way. What if Jany was pointed out as a suspect and found herself in the same situation as the ill-fated maids? It would not be the first time an aristocrat took out his or her anger on a common citizen. No, she had to go.
Opening the door as quietly as she could, Jany held her breath and hoped no one would be outside her room. She peered up and down the shadowy corridors. No one in sight. Apart from the splashing of the heavy rain, all was quiet. If she was spotted walking around like this, wearing her soggy clothes and far away from her own room, she was in trouble. But she could not go naked or in her nightdress. Besides, the castle seemed still, as if holding its breath for the morning. With luck, she would be unnoticed.
She closed the door and walked quickly down the corridor, heading towards the southern end of the castle.
*
Jany had to hide behind doors and walls several times to avoid being seen by passing servants, but after what felt like an eternity of searching and tip-toeing, she had located the baroness’s room. At least she hoped she stood outside the right chamber. There was no sign on the large oaken door, but it was situated at the top of the stairs in what had to be the right tower. It was her best and only guess.
Over half again as tall as she was, the door looked sturdy enough to hold back an army, but it was also carved with detailed patterns of delicate roses and thorny stems. Definitely not the door to an ordinary room. There was only one door in the hallway; all other walls were occupied by gigantic oil paintings, their motifs impossible to make out in the murk. Tall tapestries in purple velvet matched the long carpet that led up to the doorway.
Jany’s legs had felt the climb up the tower; the baroness’s room was five storeys above the street. In the hallway outside the door was a round window twice the size of a wagon’s wheel. It would have let some light in, if the moon had not been obscured by the oily, restless clouds. What little light there was came from a few small oil lamps placed in alcoves in the walls. The smell of wet stone and damp textiles hung heavy in the air.
Up here, the sound of the hard rain was much louder, battering the castle’s thick walls as if trying to wear the stone down. For the first time since the weather had turned bad, she was thankful for the rain; the noise drowned out the sound of her footsteps and all other noises.
Walking up to the door on trembling legs, Jany wondered what awaited her inside. The baroness had to have a good reason for calling Jany to her private room. As soon as she opened the door, she might become hopelessly entangled in some obscure drama between two rival noble families. This whole business could even be a trap; rich people sometimes used hapless innocents to take the blame for crimes. That was nothing new.
Still, she had to go in. Disobeying a baroness did not rhyme with leaving this castle unharmed when she was surrounded by panicky lords and ladies. And that horrible witchfinder. One thing she was sure about: whatever happened inside the room would stay with her for the rest of her life. Her intuition told her that much, and her instincts was rarely wrong.
Holding her breath, she knocked on the door. When no one opened, she squinted, half-expecting to be attacked, turned the handle and pulled the heavy door open.
*
The room behind the door was so large that Jany paused on the doorstep. At least fifty steps from one end to the other, and with a ceiling so high it faded into darkness at least six metres above her head, the space was only marginally smaller than the castle’s great hall. On the opposite side of the room, a large fire blazed in a large hearth, its mantelpiece as wide as the roof of a small house. The unpleasant smell of dampness was dispelled by the flames and replaced by the scents of firewood and perfume. Three large windows, all facing north, would have provided a stunning view in clear weather. Now, the fire’s glow turned the glass panes into dark shimmering mirrors, constantly rippling as the rain washed down them.
As Jany’s eyes adapted to the light of the fire, she made out more details of the luxurious furniture in the room. In the middle of the floor stood a massive table that sat at least twelve people. Perhaps the baroness had had guests; near one end of the table were two wine glasses and a bottle of wine. In the middle of the table stood a row of ornate candlestick holders, all holding tall burning candles. Against a wall on her left were three wardrobes that each could contain clothes for an army. To the left of the table was a screen for changing clothes in private; to the right were a group of plush sofas in gleaming leather.
And, beyond the sofas, stood a four-poster bed that rivalled the table in size. It was easily the largest bed Jany ever had seen. The canopy could have been the former sail for a large ship, if sails had come in thick purple velvet.
Staring slack-jawed at the interior, Jany took a careful step into the room and closed the door behind her. “Madame?” she called. No response.
Uncertain, she took another step. She wondered if the invitation had been meant for someone else. Or was this a trap after all? The silence unnerved her. There were so many ways this could go terribly wrong. Unless she saw the baroness soon, she would run back to her own room.
Jany took another step and paused with her foot in mid-air.
The bed was occupied.
At first, she had thought the dark shape on the mattress was a trick of the dancing shadows created by the fire, but she had been wrong. There was definitely someone there, stretched out among the sheets, and it was not the baroness. The woman whom Jany had stood close in the stairwell earlier that night was tall and statuesque; this unknown person was leaner and shorter, probably as petite as Jany herself.
While Jany stared, the shape moved, and long hair spread over a pillow shifted. A woman, or possibly a man with a shock of hair. Goosebumps spread along Jany’s arms; there was something wrong with how the woman was poised in the bed, lying with her arms stretched out to the side and her legs straight and slightly parted. All the woman wore was a thin bodice. Jany could easily make out the outline of the woman’s body, and while she was very attractive, fear overrode all other sensations. What on Earth was going on?
Walking closer, Jany’s gaze strayed to the woman’s wrists. Was she holding on to something? A twirled towel, or a belt? She took another step, then gasped and raised her hands to her mouth.
The woman was bound to the bed. Even though Jany stood more than ten steps from the bed, she could see the ropes that held the woman’s arms and legs in place. She was awake too; the woman was breathing heavily and moving restlessly. Shadows made it impossible to see her face, but Jany had a feeling that the woman was staring straight at her.
Shock rooted Jany in place. Her throat was as dry as a sunbaked country road. She had come prepared for many things, but not this. Why, exactly, was there a woman bound to her hands and feet in the baroness’s room? Ignored for too long, Jany’s imagination offered its services and quickly offered a long list of explanations, but before Jany even had the time to be embarrassed, she was interrupted by a voice.
“You came,” the baroness said quietly behind Jany.
Jany spun so fast she had to hold on to the table to keep her balance. The baroness stood near a wall, partially cloaked in shadow. Gone was the elaborate dress she had worn earlier; now she was clad in an evening robe in a rich velvety green. She must have stepped out from behind the changing screen.
“I found the note,” Jany said, realizing as she spoke that this was painfully obvious. She cleared her throat and added, “I wasn’t sure whether to believe the message was from you, but I hoped it was genuine.”
Jany closed her eyes and wished that she could start over. Now I’ve suggested that the baroness could be a liar. Wonderful! She might just as well throw herself out the window and save the e
xecutioner the effort.
To her surprise, the baroness smiled and looked bashful. “I must thank you,” she said. “I know this is inappropriate, but I did not know who else to ask.” She watched Jany nervously as if fearing that Jany would run away.
“But I am no one,” Jany said hurriedly. “There are many others of your kind he – I mean to say, you must have many distinguished associates and acquaintances who are staying here.” Apparently, Jany’s tongue was determined to get her into trouble.
But Jany was not entirely to blame. Part of the problem was the baroness’s robe; well cut and more snug than Jany first had realized, it seemed to cling to the woman’s body like a thin layer of misty jade. Imagining what the baroness would look like naked was painfully easy. Added to this were a few other troubling details, such as the baroness hiding behind a screen and looking extremely anxious.
And, of course, the bound woman, whom Jany tried to pretend did not exist until the baroness offered an explanation. At the very least, something very strange was going on. Strange and probably hazardous. Jany was constantly aware of the reason for her own presence in the castle: There was a rumoured vampire in the basement. Considering all the other outlandish events that were happening, it was likely that the women really were vampires.
As she waited for the baroness to speak, Jany glanced at the bed in sudden dread. Two of the baroness’s maids had already been afflicted by the curse. Now the baroness was frightened, and there was a woman tied to the bed. The wind pressed against the window and a log in the blaze cracked, sending off a small shower of sparks.
Watching the expression on Jany’s face, the baroness nodded solemnly. “That is Esabel,” the baroness said. “The third maid assigned to me by the duke. You know where the two other are.”