Fancytales: The Once Upon A Time Collection

by Leighann Dobbs

  Grayson followed along, impatient for the tour to end but content for the moment to admire the gentle sway of Jane's hips beneath her skirts...until they reached the sleeping quarters on the third floor.

  The suite of chambers reserved for the earl and his countess, which would be their final destination this evening, were located at the far end of the west wing, but it was their proximity to the small, locked room at the end of the row of facing doors along the east wing corridor which made him more than a bit uncomfortable.

  An unshakable sense of unease dogged his steps until, at the top of the stairs, Eadith finally cast him a furtive glance of inquiry. His quick, almost imperceptible negative gesture went unobserved by Jane but he knew his housekeeper, bless her, had understood when she declared, “The east wing is closed, of course, but all of the chambers are kept clean and are aired daily.”

  Then, ignoring the east wing entirely, she turned and swept her new mistress along the west wing corridor toward the masters chambers, where a maid awaited to help her undress and make ready for bed.

  Through it all, Grayson waited patiently until his new bride stood before him in naught but a thin night-rail and the quiet snick of the door closing in wake of her maid's departure assured him they were alone at last.

  Careful, lest he frighten her into fleeing well before she realized there truly was aught to fear from a night spent alone with him, Grayson gathered her into his embrace.

  He could not help but note the scent of her as he did so - she smelled of jasmine and a soft, sweet, feminine warmth all her own – and he marveled at how something so inconsequential could stir him in ways he had all but forgotten, make him desire things he had thought never to want, make him consider taking actions he would never before have thought to take and yet, he realized, it did.

  Grayson pulled her closer still, inhaling deeply of her fragrance, and the words he had meant to hold within the privacy of his own thoughts slipped from him. “I want you, Jane.”

  Chapter Four

  “Why?”

  Her question came low, the words trembling upon her lips before timidly falling into the hush of the room. She made a halfhearted attempt to pull out of his embrace and Grayson tightened his hold. She was shaken, he realized, for he heard both confusion and a genuine curiosity in her tone.

  Had she read something of his emotions in his gaze? She must have, he thought, because her cheeks colored at his declaration but Grayson felt no such timorousness for having admitted to the desire she made him feel. He did want her and yet, at the same time, he was also fully aware he would never truly be allowed to have her. To keep her. The madness would see to it...eventually. Still, her question begged an answer. Why did he want her? Even he had wondered.

  His gaze drifted downward from the uncertainty shimmering in her gaze, across the smooth, warm skin of her cheeks, along the length of her neck, down to the place where the bodice of her night-rail shadowed the curve of her breasts while his mind pondered her query and he realized with an unusual sense of clarity that he could never be close enough to this woman. Even now, the urge to draw her ever closer, so close he would no longer be able to recognize where his own flash ended and hers began, and he knew the answer. It was not simply her beauty which had drawn him to her, nor had his desire to make her his owe strictly to passions long denied. Nay, his want of her came from something much more deeply seated and personal. “Because I feel you.”

  His words, rough and graveled with emotion, fell between them and Grayson looked away from the flare of surprise in her gaze at his response – a response he had never intended to give because he had not expected to know the reason himself - and yet, he admitted, it was true. From the first moment he had seen her, Jane had touched him somehow, changed something deep inside him and though he had known he might truly be damned for it later, Grayson had wanted nothing more than to bring her here with him and to keep her close for as long as Fate would allow.

  The demons of his past which came to torture him in the night, coupled with his consequent fits and rages would eventually drive her out of his life, he knew, but for now...

  You should never have brought her here, his conscience pricked, and Grayson knew it for truth. There was a very real possibility he might do Jane harm. Unintentionally of course, but knowing he posed a possible threat to her safety bothered him. Still, she had moved him, and it had felt so damned good to feel.

  “Grayson?”

  The sound of his name on her lips brought his gaze back to hers and he lifted his hand to brush back a wayward strand of hair from her cheek, regret weighting the movement while he fought against his rising passions.

  Soon, she would realize the threat he posed and would demand to be taken back to her family. He could feel the chill of her budding fear, sense the cold inevitability of it between them even now at this, their fragile beginning, see it in the shadows lurking within her questioning gaze. From past experience, he knew those fears were well-founded, and yet, he could not bring himself to think of her leaving.

  Not now.

  Later, when her fear of the demons who came upon him in the night became so great it eventually forced her to flee, he would understand and he would let her go. But for now, for these first brief, precious few days, few hours, few moments...

  Frowning now, he released her and stalked to the bed. For long moments he simply stood, fists clenched at his sides, glaring down at the inviting surface while he silently cursed both it and the few brief moments of sleep he was allowed each night for bringing on the beast.

  Tonight was his wedding night, damn it, but he knew the auspiciousness of the occasion would matter naught once his eyes closed and the nightmares took over. He truly was mad, Grayson finally decided, because although he knew he had every right to carry Jane to this bed and make love to her until dawn as his body demanded, he would not do so this night. Resigned, he turned and made his way to the door.

  “Sleep well, Countess,” he muttered before disappearing into the corridor, leaving his bride to spend what remained of their wedding night alone.

  * * *

  Confusion knitting her brow, Jane watched him go. A quick glance at her attire made her worry perhaps her choice of nightdress had repulsed him. Lady Amelia had given her a much more sheer and daring one for the occasion, but taking her own innocence into consideration, Jane had thought it best to dress more simply. She had not the experience to follow through with the message the night-rail the marchioness had bestowed upon her had seemed to warrant, and thus...

  Covering her face with her hands, Jane bowed her head and sighed silently into her palms, quivering from her shoulders to her knees. Her whole body trembled in reaction to both her husband's heated touch and then her surprise at his unexpected defection while her fragile emotional state was left feeling ragged and torn.

  Fatigue from the events of the day paired with the maelstrom of emotions which had warred within her since the night of the earl's scandalous kiss tugged at her shoulders. What was she to do? With five older, married sisters, Jane knew this was not at all how one's wedding night was meant to be spent but she was quite at a loss as to how to repair the breach which had unexpectedly risen between them or to figure out what had caused it. And so she stood alone, in the center of what was certainly the earl's own bedroom, feeling afraid because she obviously had not seemed appealing in the way a new bride should to him.

  Not only that, he had left her to spend their wedding night alone, leaving their marriage unconsummated, and pitiably, Jane was also far too inexperienced to know how to bring him back. Worse, Jane admitted, she was uncertain that, did she know full well how to entice him to return, she would even want him to.

  Moving her hands from in front of her face, Jane crossed her arms over her middle and hugged. Too much had happened too fast and she could not seem to keep up with the changes. Still, she wondered briefly if she should follow him, seek him out to offer an apology to mend whatever error she had committed.


  For long minutes, she stood while her uncertainty battled with exhaustion until finally, weariness won and, much like Grayson had when he had left her only moments before, Jane padded toward the bed, resigned. Tomorrow would be better, she promised silently, but for tonight she would accept the respite the earl had given her and rest.

  Alas, it was not to be because some time later, sounds of muted, agonized moaning echoed throughout the chamber, causing Jane's sleep-dulled senses to give way to icy fingered grip of terror. Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins.

  Jerking bolt upright, her heart thumping heavily in her chest, Jane peered, terrified, into the eerie darkness of her unfamiliar bedchamber, blinking rapidly in an attempt to force her eyes to adjust to the low light.

  The heavy logs in the fireplace shifted and then hissed in outrage when Jane jumped in response, spitting spent bits of charred wood onto the screened hearth, but nothing inhuman or otherwise revealed itself to her in the darkness.

  She was alone.

  Aye, she was alone, Jane realized, relieved, but the pained voice she still heard repeatedly crying out in long, drawn out moans of agony followed by cries of abject terror was all too frightfully familiar.

  Grayson.

  Chapter Five

  Tossing back the covers, Jane scrambled to find and light a lamp before pulling the counterpane from the bed. Hurriedly wrapping it around her shoulders, she took up the light and rushed out of her chamber...only to have her way blocked at the stairs.

  “What has happened?” she blurted, pulling against the strong fingers holding her shoulders. “Has the earl been injured?”

  The tall, blond fellow shook his head. “Nay, not yet, my lady.”

  "Not yet?" Jane frowned, confused. She could still hear him moaning in distress and the sounds seemed to be coming from the east wing. “Are you certain? He sounds as if he is in agony-”

  Her words were cut off by what could only have been a scream of pure terror though the sound was oddly muffled, as if someone had smothered it with their hand. Again, Jane started forward but the fellow stepped into her path once again, barring her way with his body.

  “I cannot let ye pass, my lady.” His face flushed and he avoided her gaze but, despite her struggles, he did not step aside.

  Jane felt a wild sense of panic bubbling up inside her.

  "Grayson!” His name tore from her lips and echoed along the hallway before she realized she had called out to him, but he did not answer.

  Instead, to the obvious relief of the man holding her at the top of the stairs, Eadith came bustling into view, her gray hair peeking untidily from beneath a hurriedly donned mob cap. With a nod to the man, she caught Jane by the arm and tugged, clearly having come to escort her mistress back to her bed.

  “Here now, my lady, there's no call for that. His lordship is fine. 'Tis naught more than a dream disturbing his sleep, I'll warrant,” she soothed, determinedly urging her reluctant mistress back down the long hallway.

  The noises from the other wing quieted a bit but soon a fresh groan pealed through the semi-silence. Jane cringed. Looking over her shoulder down the darkened corridor of the east wing, she asked, “Does the earl frequently succumb to such night terrors?”

  Eadith opened the door to the bedchamber and waited for her to step inside. She shrugged. “A bit.”

  Taking the counterpane from around Jane's shoulders, she carried it back to the bed, which she straightened, and then waited expectantly until Jane followed and slid beneath the covers. “Do they always affect him thus?”

  Moving to stir the fire, Eadith shook her head. “'Tis best you ask your questions of his lordship, my lady. It is not my place to be carrying tales about the master.”

  Then, apparently assured her mistress would not be leaving her chamber again this night, Eadith left her to wait out what precious few hours remained of it.

  Unable to bear the chilling, eerie noises which continued to drift into her room, Jane curled herself tight against the mattress, tucked her head beneath a pillow and pulled the coverlet 'round about her ears to mute the sounds as the many outlandish tales in circulation about her new husband rose up in her thoughts to taunt her.

  “...insane!”

  “...a madman!”

  “...chained in the night!”

  Had he been chained this night?

  The muted sound of metal links rippling against themselves played through her memory and Jane shuddered. She did not sleep again until dawn was spreading its pale light across the sky.

  * * *

  Jane came awake slowly, the combined scents of warm skin and the outdoors teasing her senses, to find Grayson sitting on the bed beside her watching her sleep, his bright gaze lit with amusement. “You snore, Countess.”

  Jane felt her cheeks flush, both from his comment and her realization that he was beside her, on the bed, and...she tried to tug the covers higher for modesty's sake, but his weight held them firmly trapped beneath him. “It is rude of you to mention such things, my lord.”

  The curtains in the chamber had been pulled back, allowing the sun's light to spill brilliantly into the room. Eadith's doing, no doubt, Jane reasoned as she rolled onto her back, squeezing her eyes tight against its burning invasion. The backs of her eyelids felt swollen and scratchy, most likely due to her lack of sleep last evening while...

  Remembering, she sat up, ignoring the way the amusement in his eyes quickly changed to something much different and asked, “Are you well, my lord? Last night-”

  Grayson shook his head, cutting her off. He stood and in one swift move, peeled back the covers. “We've no time for chatter, Jane. I've asked Hammet to ready the horses for us for a quick, morning jaunt. You do ride, do you not?”

  Her brow furrowed in confusion at his unexpectedly pleasant demeanor. “Yes, of course I do, but-”

  “Wonderful.” Without warning, he leaned down to drop a quick kiss against her brow. “Eadith is bringing a tray. Break your fast quickly and do dress warm. It is nippy out. I will wait for you downstairs – unless you would prefer to spend what is left of the morning here?”

  His steady voice gave not a hint of the scandalous thoughts Jane read in the fire in his eyes but, unsure of herself after his abandonment last night, Jane lowered her gaze and curled her legs beneath her.

  “I will hurry,” she promised.

  True to her word, she entered the front parlor a mere half an hour later and the breathtakingly handsome man who was now her husband met her there soon after with an eager smile.

  “A punctual woman? I am crushed. I had rather hoped you would dally and thus give me reason to come fetch you from our bed.” He wriggled his brows and Jane could not help but smile though she peered up at him, bewildered and quite puzzled by his jovial, seemingly easy manner this morning.

  Such could not possibly be the demeanor of a madman, she thought.

  Could it?

  Chapter Six

  “I win!” Jane crowed much later, when Grayson drew up his gray beside her mare where she waited for him at their mock finish line.

  Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession while her eyes sparkled with the pleasure of her victory. Grayson chuckled at her utter delight over having bested him while making a mental note to never reveal how he had, in fact, let her win.

  “You are quite the accomplished rider, my lady. Congratulations. I am impressed.” Dismounting, he made short work of looping his mount's reins around a young sapling before he returned to assist her to the ground.

  Her gloved fingers came to rest against his shoulders and though her touch was light, Grayson felt the heat of it as if they were bare. His body tensed in sudden awareness.

  “Your prize,” he declared as he lifted her down, his every sense attuned to the feel of her body as it slid against his, “shall be a kiss from the victor.”

  With her hands still resting on his shoulders, Jane peered up at him through narrowed eyes. “As I am the victor in question, m
y lord, what you suggest is quite impossible.”

  Secretly charmed by the look of annoyance mixed with confusion on her face, Grayson fought back a smile and shook his head. “I claim the win.”

  Her brows arched near as high as the pitch of her voice when she demanded, “By what measure could you possibly claim to have won, my lord? You've only just arrived!”

  With great difficulty, Grayson ignored her affronted astonishment over his attempt to steal her victory. Instead, he haughtily arched a brow in response and gestured with his thumb to the mount behind her. “I own the mare.”

  He waited, fully expecting her to complain or to bluster in denial and refuse to accept his high-handed twisting of the facts. But, much to his surprise, warm peals of giddy laughter burst from her lips, drawing his rapt attention to their delicate lushness and he suddenly became aware of each tremor of laughter as it coursed through her.

  She must have noticed the immediate reaction of his body because her laughter suddenly quieted. While he watched, enthralled, her expression changed from one of merriment over his challenge of her victory to one filled with uncertainty mixed with blatant curiosity and perhaps even a twinge of untested desire, which she quickly hid before surprising him yet again.

  “Very well, my lord. I can see there is to be no arguing with you, therefore, I demand my pri-”

  Grayson's lips closed over hers, cutting off her words.

  He kissed her gently, his lips and tongue exploring the softness of her mouth while his hands slid from where they had rested at her waist to curl around the curve of her hip. Cupping her bottom in his palms, he pulled her close, pressing his body against hers while his mouth continued its tender exploration.

  Biting back a groan of pleasure, Grayson deepened the kiss, wondering how he could ever have walked away from her the night before. She was so warm and accepting, so vibrant and...