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Chapter 5
"Nice of you to finally meet with me,” Renald said with a hint of agitation. He had been trying to reach Donatein for a month now, with no response until a week ago. Now, sitting over coffee, he wondered why he had even asked the Marquis for his assistance.
This did not seem to bother his friend, who only grinned back at him, his tone laced with sarcasm. “You must forgive me, Monsieur. I have a very busy schedule."
Renald took a sip of the strong brew and tried to keep from glaring at his long-time cohort. “Did you do what I asked?"
Donatein sat back in his seat and eyed his companion. His lips twisted in what could only be a smirk. “Oui, I did what you asked."
By the knowing glint in his dark eyes, Renald's heart skipped a beat. “And what is that look for?"
His companion laid a hand on the table. “She was not one who simply wanted verbal contact."
Renald narrowed his eyes and gripped his cup more tightly. “For your sake, she had better still be a virgin.” It was not as though the two of them never shared women, but Renald did not share his property.
The heavy-lidded gaze he shot Renald, the way his shoulders relaxed, and the lazy lift of the corner of his mouth all said he really did not care. “Yes, she is still a virgin. I just tested the waters for you."
Renald ran a hand through his hair. “I asked you to speak with her. Not ruin her."
With a nonchalant lift of his shoulder, Donatein lifted his cup to his lips for a sip of his own coffee before he continued. “As it stands, she sought me out. She wanted a night of excitement before being forced to settle down with you."
Renald had to chuckle at this. “Marriage to me will be anything but boring. I had to force myself to have very little contact with the girl until our wedding. Which is what I needed you for.” This brought him back to his earlier concern. “I am very displeased. She might be responsible for her own actions, but I will handle her later.” Renald paused. “What did you do to her?"
The grin that split Donatein's face was almost too much for Renald. “I recently crafted a whip out of some old pieces of leather. I needed a new subject.” He shrugged. “When she arrived at my home, I made her remove her clothes."
The story went on in great detail. Being jealous and rock-hard at the same time was a new concept for Renald, knowing his future wife had bared her body for another man and allowed him to taste her pleasures. He should have been mad as hell and ready to kill the bastard, retelling the story as though he were still there.
Instead, he pictured himself in Donatein's place, but in his mind, he would finish what the Marquis did not.
"We must share her sometime,” Donatein finished. His lips turned up into a grin that made Renald's blood boil. Renald assumed the man was just as excited as he was, if not more so, by the beautiful black-haired temptress that was soon to be his wife.
Renald shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a coldness moving across his body. “I believe that will not be necessary, Monsieur. I never share my property. Not with anyone."
Donatein's face dropped, and Renald thought he saw a pout forming on his lips. “You really should open yourself up a bit more, Renald. You have a bad habit of hoarding your slaves all to yourself."
Renald grinned. “Yes, I do. But currently, I have no slave, and my wife will not be treated as my slave.” He leaned in close, keeping his eyes level with the Marquis. “She will submit freely to me, as even my own slaves always have. If you ever touch my property again, I will kill you quickly. So quickly, you will not even be able to enjoy your final torture."
The Marquis’ brows shot straight up. Renald did not wait for an answer, but promptly left the table and walked out the door to the busy streets to run the errands he had put aside.
* * * *
"I do not think you have been alone with Renald since the two of you became engaged,” her sister commented. They sat alone in the quiet garden, enjoying the clear midday weather.
Beatrice shrugged and stared out over the moor. Her sister was right, but how could she explain things? If Donatein had told Renald what happened between the two of them, she could only imagine the reasons her fiancé was not speaking with her or having anything to do with her. What if he chose to call off the engagement? What if Donatein was right, and he was a man of great passion and desire? She could miss out on all of it for the sake of one night that did not really measure up to her expectations.
Hiding her recovery and overwrought emotions had not been easy. Ducking around the maids to dress herself, tucking sheets around her body anytime anyone even walked past her room. The way she cried herself to sleep the first week, needing attention from a man she could not have. Any closeness would have done. A touch, a caress against her cheek. Just to see him again so she would know what she felt was normal.
No, her recovery had not been easy emotionally. Worst of all, she craved that loss of control again and again. She prayed each day Donatein was right about her future husband. Because now, she was not so sure she could go forward without the surrender she felt that night. If Donatein was right, however, she would make it very clear to her husband that she did not wish him to walk out on her afterwards. He would stay with her and love her.
She crushed the tiny white flower in her hand and let it fall in tatters to the ground. “Some men just do not need to be bothered by wives. I wish you would stop bringing this up. It is not as though it is a love match.” She eyed her sister with a pleading look. Not only was it becoming old, but also, her feelings were beginning to get hurt. She longed to know the reason he did not want to spend time with her.
Her sister shrugged and walked along the bank of the murky water. The dark blue of her gown dragged along behind her. She kept her head down, not masking her smile. “I just hoped if I bothered you enough, then you might try to devise a meeting with him. Do something to show you want this marriage. Maybe, if you showed some interest the way you did with the Marquis, he might be more inclined to give you his attention."
Beatrice scoffed and rose from her seat on the grass, wiping her hands across her bottom. “Or, he might become annoyed with me and cancel the wedding."
Her sister looked up and giggled. “Or, he might just come looking for you himself."
"What?” Behind her, the sound of footsteps crunching the grass broke her concentration. She turned, expecting to see her mother come scolding her for sitting on the grass, but instead, it was none other than her future husband.
Instantly, her palms began to sweat, and she wiped them down the sides of her gown. Had he found out? He did not look happy. His dark eyes gave nothing away, but his quick and determined stride said there was something on his mind.
At a loss for words, she stood rooted to the ground and watched, his long lean legs quickly covering the distance between them. Not so much as a hello passed the sinister smile on his lips. When he did finally reach her, she blinked up at him. He was quite handsome, and knowing now that he wanted the same things she did made her heart skip a beat, but it did not last long.
He grabbed Beatrice by her upper arms and yanked her against his chest. Her eyes widened when his mouth crushed down on hers. His tongue pushed past her lips, and a tiny squeak escaped her throat before she allowed his invasion. A ripple of pleasure coursed through her, and she melted against him. Her arms wrapped his waist. She fisted her fingers into his coat to pull him that much closer. Desperately, she tried to gain control over her pounding heart. This seemed to be the last thing he wanted when he deepened the kiss and urged her to join him.
"Well, well, well. I must say, maybe I do have a few things to learn from you.” Camille's tone was humorous.
Beatrice jumped, and her eyes flew open. Renald gazed into her eyes and implored her without words to return his kiss and ignore her sister. Her tongue darted forward, meeting his hungry thrusts with her own. She moaned and ran her hands up and down the strong planes of his back. Th
e raw male energy was nothing like what she experienced with Donatein. It was better, because it promised forever.
Her eyes closed, and she succumbed to the strong arms that pulled her into his embrace. His groan of pleasure matched hers. Their bodies pressed tighter together, they were as one person, the scorching kiss as intimate as making love.
When he finally pulled away, she wobbled on shaky legs and fought to catch her breath. She held onto his coat for a moment to regain her balance. “Wh-what was that for?” she said, pulling herself back a step.
The giggle of her sister behind her made her realize their audience. Her cheeks burned.
"I believe that was for not seeing him. You really must catch up, dear sister."
Beatrice swallowed hard and faced her sister, not even giving Renald a chance to answer. “Do you not have other things to do today?"
She shook her head and giggled some more. “Sure, but this is much more entertaining.” She looked up into the very unhappy eyes of her sister's fiancé and quickly changed her pace. “Fine, you two enjoy your afternoon. I am sure Mother has something else she would like to drive into my head.” She grumbled and stalked off.
Beatrice whirled around to face Renald once more. Her hands still shaky, she held tightly to her gown, but before she could ask her question, he interrupted her. “You are my bride, and I want you to know you are mine. No one else's."
Beatrice blinked and nodded. Scared and excited at the same time, she gave him a shy smile. “I thought you did not want to marry me."
He shook his head, a gleam of menace in his dark eyes. “No, darling, that was not it at all. I simply wanted to wait until our wedding before I held you.” His hand cupped her warm cheek, giving it a delicate squeeze. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known, and I wanted our wedding night to be something special."
Her cheeks warmed with his compliment. Shyness kept her from doing anything more than nodding when she turned and walked towards the small pond. “Now that you are here, do you want to talk?” His nearness made her uncomfortable. She did not know the proper thing to say.
"Unfortunately, I cannot stay long. I purchased you a wedding gift."
Beatrice stopped and turned. He seemed much more relaxed now, giving him an air of sincerity that made her feel lighter than she had in weeks. He took her hand and led her to the stone bench a few feet from the pond. She watched as he sat down, his dark eyes never leaving hers. “Something I want you to wear for the wedding. And at any time it pleases you thereafter."
Beatrice just nodded and stayed silent.
"Kneel."
She blinked, confused. “Kneel?
He raised his brows, and a smile that made a chill run through her touched his soft lips. “Right here, Beatrice. Now."
At his command, her knees weakened. Her heart thudded in her chest so hard, it made her want to cry. A glance over his shoulder, and she could easily see the house. She pursed her lips. “But, anyone could see me."
He dropped one brow, and the other rose. “I can wait all day. So either do it now, or suffer the repercussions instead of receiving your gift."
Beatrice gulped and looked at the hand that tapped over his breast pocket. Her eyes darted from his fingers back to his face. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. Was it worth humiliating herself? “What if it is not worth it for a gift?"
He chuckled softly. “I like you much better when you are too afraid to speak to me."
Her eyes widened, surprised by his audacity. “This is not the Renald I met a few months ago."
"No, this is the Renald you will submit to for the rest of your life. Kneel."
Her body would have done as he commanded more quickly, had she not given into thought and reason.
She dipped to the cool, damp earth beneath her. The strength that emanated from Renald made it difficult for her to meet his eyes. Quietly, she kneeled in front of him, her eyes downcast. She ignored the hard, thrilling pound of her heart.
"That's my girl,” he said, and she could hear the pleased tone in his deep, calming voice. “Now, lift your head so you can see your gift."
No longer feeling ashamed someone might see her, she raised her head. A glimmer of light caught her eyes before he moved the exquisite gift into view. The thin purple velvet strip, too big for her wrist, glittered with a silver medallion no more than an inch wide. On the front was inscribed the letters RLD, which she knew to be Renald's initials.
Taken aback, but curious, she raised her head to the deep, serious expression on her fiancé's face. The wind had blown his hair into a disheveled black array about his shoulders. “What is it?"
Carefully, he lifted the piece from the mahogany box and held it between two fingers. “It is called a choker. Bend your head forward, love,” he said, his voice gruff with an emotion Beatrice did not understand. What was so important about this?
She lowered her head without saying a word and allowed him to strap the choker around her neck. It fit snugly against her throat, giving her a feeling of ownership, especially with his initials printed neatly on the front.
She ran her fingers over the smooth material and lifted her head again. To kneel before him only felt strange at this point because she knew anyone in her house could see her. What would they think to see Renald and her, alone by the pond?
The desire and love radiating through her future husband's eyes made all such thoughts disappear. His gaze fixed on the choker.
"How does it look?” she asked, feeling like a little girl on Christmas Day who just received a favored trinket. With a lift of her chin, she exposed more of her neck for him to see.
"It looks breathtaking. With your creamy white skin and the dark velvet, it glows.” He reached out a hand and stroked his soft fingertips down her cheek. A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he looked deeply into her eyes. “When I thought of you, this was the first thing that came to mind. It only enhances your beauty, my dear. I wanted you to have this so you realize no matter where you are, or whom you may be visiting, you are still mine."
Beatrice swallowed hard as she fought for something to say.
He continued. “Anything you have done before today means nothing. I realized today you were probably not looking forward to a loveless marriage. By giving you this gift and telling you its significance, I need you to see I do want to marry you. I want to be with you day and night. It may not be love at first sight, but one day, I hope it grows to that."
He sat back and held out his hand. Beatrice was still speechless as she stared up at him and set her hand in his. His skin felt warm, protective, caring. These were all feelings she never thought she would be able to have from her husband to be.
"By accepting this gift,” he said, “you give yourself over to me without reservation. In return, I will respect you, cherish you, honor you, and seek to pleasure you in any way you are looking for."
The gleam in his eyes made Beatrice flush. He knew all too well what she would need. She swallowed hard, feeling a bit of bravery rush through her. “Then we have much to discuss. I accept your gift with pleasure. I've longed to have a husband who would treat me the way you have promised.” She squeezed his hand and softly smiled. “Although I didn't initially choose this marriage, I look forward to it now.” Tears stung her eyes, and she fought to catch her breath and keep from becoming too sentimental.
For a long moment, neither said a word. They sat in comfortable silence, staring into one another's eyes. A few minutes later, Beatrice relaxed even more in his presence, still uncaring if she dirtied her dress. She wanted to feel him close to her, so she laid her head on his thigh. The thick muscle pillowed her head, and she stroked her fingers over his other thigh, enjoying the feel of the muscle rippling beneath her palm.
She curbed the worrisome thought that he would find out about her secret liaison with Donatein. Her lips curved into a relaxed smile, and she sighed contentedly. Renald ran his fingers through her hair. She sat, not saying a word,
and very few thoughts actually came forth. Content. A feeling she never experienced before. But finally, she was content.
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Chapter 6
Later that evening over dinner, Beatrice kept her thoughts to herself. She was still not sure if anyone saw her today, but figured her sister knew. After all, she might have stalked off, but she did not go very far. A quick glance at her sister's bright grin confirmed it.
"I told Renald he may come to visit you outside by the pond. Did you two have a nice talk?” her mother asked nonchalantly.
Beatrice pursed her lips and eyed her mother with a noncommittal smile. “Yes, we did."
Her mother beamed from across the table, and Beatrice held back the urge to roll her eyes. “I thought you might enjoy some alone time. After all, you were not far from the house."
Beatrice's hand went deathly still. She surveyed her mother's mood. Overly excited, but not confused. “Yes, I guess you could have seen us from the house at any time,” she mumbled, and went back to eating dinner.
Her father seemed to have nothing to say, as usual, and her sister held her napkin over her face with an infuriatingly delighted glint in her eyes.
* * * *
"What were you doing kneeling in front of him, anyway?” Her sister whirled on her when they finally entered their room for the night.
Beatrice shrugged. “He asked me to.” More like told her to, but that was just a detail.
Camille set the candelabra down on the table next to Beatrice's bed. “And you just did it? I am surprised with you, Bea. You never listen to anyone."
Beatrice chuckled softly. “You do have a point, but this is different."
Her sister eyed her with a confused expression. “How is it different? You went from considering him boring to kneeling at his feet in less than a minute. Well, that was after a very toe-curling kiss."
Beatrice bit the inside of her lip to stifle the giggle. It was everything and more than what she expected. “I am sure that kiss had something to do with it. After meeting him and talking to him, it just felt right.” She shrugged, trying not to think about it too much. There was still the subject of the strange gift, his words, and if he knew what occurred between her and Donatein. Even with that knowledge, she still looked forward to her wedding day, only a few weeks away at this point.
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