I return his smile. “I’m not sure it matters, though. He has made it pretty clear he doesn’t like me much. Nor does he plan on challenging you in this so called marriage, that isn’t going to be a marriage, ordeal.”
Taking my hand and wrapping it around his arm, he guides me to the main floor. “Ahh, that is where ye are wrong. But let’s vow that we shall let Locke, in time, admit that himself. Sound like a plan?” He turns, offering me a handsome wink. I nod quickly and turn to the crowd, trying to hide my flushing cheeks.
“So, would ye like to know who some of these people are, before my mother gets her hands on ye and drags ye into the lion’s den of her friends?”
“I’d rather click my heels and go home, but if that is my second option, I guess yes, educate me on the lions.” With a smirk, he nods his head toward a group of older women, all pretending not to stare until we look over their way, and then they huddle, acting as if they are staring at a painting on the wall.
“Those are the Borland sisters. All five of them. They are the master knitters in the village. They hold a knitting party every day after lunch. I highly advise trying it out sometime.” I look at him in horror. I would rather swallow a pack of live bees than sit in a room and knit. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” I ask.
He laughs, bending down to whisper in my ear, “I do not joke, Princess Adeline, about anything. Including the hidden intentions of my brother.” He pulls away and winks, causing me to turn back to the last spot I saw Locke.
Fire.
Those eyes.
They are in a way disturbing, but just as intoxicating. He doesn’t break away when he realizes I’ve caught him staring at me. I feel his eyes rake over my entire body. As if the fire in his eyes is heating my skin.
“Yer mark, it is like it’s on fire.” I snap away from Locke when I hear Christof.
“Huh?” I shake off the hold that Locke seemed to just have on me.
“Yer mark. It was becoming hot in my hands, as if it was being summoned.” He smirks, waiting for me to get the hint. I look back and Locke is gone.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I look around the room, pretending I’m searching out the people, when I secretly look to see where he went. Why do I care? I stop myself immediately at that thought. I don’t.
“Okay, educate me on another group of lions. How about those?” I point to yet another set of spying eyes, all focused on me.
After giving me a breakdown of most of the women who bite, an announcement was made that it was time to be seated for dinner. This, I was kind of happy about because I was actually starving.
I plaster a ladylike smile on my face, as Ellie drags me away from Christof and off to my assigned seat. I go to sit down when a girl runs at me. Before I have the chance to get defensive, she starts lifting up my dress. “What the hell are you doing?” I bark as she gapes at me.
“I’m lifting yer dress so it does not wrinkle while ye sit, Miss.”
Oh. “Oh, yeah.” Dummy. I mean, who doesn’t know that? Oh, I know! The ones who skipped high school history! Not that they wrote about a woman’s attire or 1900’s decorum in it. I turn, allowing her to ‘poof my skirt’ and I sit. Once I’m seated, Christof’s father, William, nods and an army of servants flood the room with mounds and mounds of trays.
The table, about a mile long, is filled to the brim with food and guests. As the brother duo is placed across the table from me, I sit with Ellie to my left and a girl who looks to be about my age to my right. She is, in modern times what we call, snarling at me.
“Okay. I’m not dealing with this. I’m not going to sit here and have her—” I go to stand up, but am brought right back down by Ellie’s strong hand. “Seriously, what was that for?”
“Ye mustn’t get up until dinner is over.”
I look at the array of food. “Dinner might be over in a month with all this food,” I huff.
”Hush now.” She doesn’t even make eye contact with me.
I make another attempt to get up and she brings me right back down. “What the hell, Ellie?” I raise my voice, and an array of gasps sound from behind us. We both turn to see a group of maids huddled up, gaping at me. I’m about to throw my fifty pound mug at their heads when I’m interrupted by more plates. Platters of meat galore, trays of vegetables, fish, breads, name anything, and it is being placed on the table before me. My mouth instantly waters and I forget about Ellie and the group of mean maids. I may be stuck in the twilight zone, but it doesn’t stop my stomach from growling. I want to refuse the meal, just on principle, but dammit I am starving. I can’t remember the last time I really ate. I go to grab for the warm biscuit in front of me when Ellie smacks my hand.
“Geez, what now?”
“Ye are to wait until all food is served. The head of the table will first give a speech. Then ye eat.”
“Well, why do they put all this food down then? And how long is this speech?” I sit back, forming a pout on my face. This regal living is bull crap. I mean, at my dinner table the food was grabbed and eaten before my mom even sat down. My brother and I were already running back to our rooms before my mother even took her first bite! The memory about home causes me to look across the table, at him. Of course, he is glaring at me. What else is new?
“You have serious issues,” I mouth across the table, causing his eyebrow to rise, the scowl never leaving his face. Man, that’s talent.
He mouths back, “Welcome home,” and then lifts his goblet to his mouth.
Welcome home? Pfft! I am not home. My eyes scrunch together. “Not a chance,” I mouth back, matching his motions and taking a sip of the wine. I close to choke on it, not used to the bitter taste. My parents used to drink it on occasion, but I was used to only stealing their beer.
“Are ye alright, Miss?” the snooty girl next to me asks. I turn to my right and notice the girl looking strangely at me.
“Oh yes, fine. Sorry, wrong pipe,” I tell her as she looks confused, almost insulted.
“I am sorry, but it is unladylike for one to smoke a pipe, I hope ye do not share that information with others.” She glares at me and turns back to her food.
“Oh no, no. Wrong pipe, like drinking pipe, lungs, throat—” I eventually stop when I realize she has stopped paying attention to me. I roll my eyes and turn back to my plate. Then back to him.
Still glaring. Geez, he has major issues. I should be glaring at him, that or making a huge scene for starters. What would I say? I don’t know, maybe where the hell are we? Who the hell are all these people? Most importantly, how do I get home? I look at him, ready to throw a roll at his forehead, when someone else says my name.
“Adeline, my dear. Where is it that ye reside again?” An older gentleman sitting next to Locke inquires.
“I was living in Seattle with my mom and dad and brother before I was kid—”
“Ouch!” I turn to Ellie, who just kicked me in the shin! “What did you do that for?” I bark, while she sips on her cough syrup.
“I’m sorry, child, I am not familiar with this place, can ye explain?” I look back at the gentleman, who indeed looks confused, but then his tablemate next to him looks angrier.
Oh, yeah. I get it. Play along. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you asked me what the designer of my dress was. I’m from Kidnapsville. It’s over the mountains, and through the woods. Pleasant little town. They get great sun out there.” I hear Ellie sigh next to me. I smile at Sir Olds-a-Lot and shrug my shoulders. Who cares? I won’t be here for much longer. Once this meal is over, I’m going to demand to speak to who’s really in charge here.
Finally, their father begins to speak. He starts off with stories of war, legends, and blah blah blah. I mean, I feel like I’ve heard this speech in Braveheart so I’m barely listening. He turns the spotlight on Christof, Locke, and then on me.
“—and to welcome our soon to be beautiful daughter into this family, we are so very blessed, Princess Adeline, to have ye in our
home and in our family. We will cherish the future and children ye will heir to the throne.”
The entire table raises their glasses and repeats, “To the next heir of the throne,” then cheers. I just glare at Locke. Once I feed myself, it’s time I get this show on the road and figure out how to get home, before I heir anything.
Turns out I was so angry that I was barely able to get anything down. As I watched the entire table feast on a lifetime supply of meat, I just sat there wanting to throw my plate at someone in particular. One thing I was able to suck down was the cough syrup. If I was going to be stuck here for the night, while Sir Grumpy Pants stared at me, then I was going to get drunk. Technically, I missed my twenty-first birthday celebration. Maybe this way, I’ll pass out faster and wake up in my bed at home. Whatever does the trick, right?
Once dinner was done, it was time to dance. I enjoyed a good beat here and there so I figured it couldn’t be that bad. An apparent neighbor to the family asked what music I preferred. I asked if they had any Maroon 5 but he looked at me like I was insane. I felt like I was getting that exact look a lot.
“I like this… whatever is playing, I like it. My favorite actually. I have the CD… I mean the record… I mean… I have it in musical form.”
I just shut up after that. I never took dance lessons, so I fought every single person who courted me to dance. I mean, the only dancing I knew was square dancing, and that’s because it was forced on us in gym class. Finally, the night was coming to an end and people were slowly leaving. I kept looking for Ellie, so I could pull her back to my room and make her figure out a way out of this place. As I set out in search of my maid, a set of hands wrap around my waist, and I notice Christof standing behind me.
“Milady. May I offer ye one final dance before retiring for the night?” he asks as sweet as can be. Since it seems I cannot say no to his infectious smile, I nod, allowing him to escort me onto the dance floor.
“I’m going to warn you though, I can’t dance. So this is only going to embarrass you. Be prepared to spend the rest of your night regretting your offer,” I mumble. He stops in the center of the room. Putting his hands on my hips and catching me off guard, he lifts me just slightly, and then lowers me so my feet land on top of his shoes. “Now there. I will do all the work. Ye just act as if ye are having the time of yer life.” He winks as he slowly moves us in a circular motion.
I can’t help but laugh. “Why are you going along with all of this? Don’t you think this whole situation is kind of messed up?” He looks as if he is considering my question, then shrugs. “I think that sometimes the best things in life can be placed right under our noses, and we still deny them. We refuse to allow ourselves happiness. Love maybe. As for how and why ye came here? Well, I think that everyone has their own destiny. Some paths are a little bit more confusing than others. But in the end, I believe everyone ends up exactly where they are meant to be.”
Intrigued by his statement, I pull away so I can see into his eyes. “And what does your destiny look like, Sir Christof MacCowen, Second Prince of Wren?”
Before he has the chance to answer me, an older woman approaches us. “So this is her, then?”
We both stop dancing and turn to the woman standing in front of us. Christof picks me up and sets me on my own feet. Turning to the woman, he bows. “Good evening, Berta, it is always a pleasure to have ye in our presence.”
Berta… Berta… my grandmother? She doesn’t bother answering Christof. She turns to me, inspecting me. I’m not sure what to say, or what to do.
“What do ye call yerself, child?” She speaks, her tone menacing.
“Um. Adeline. My name is Adeline.” I stutter, my nerves in an uproar. She takes a step closer, looking at me, but not saying another word. This is my grandmother. My dad’s mom. I step forward, “I’m so happy to finally meet you. The only family I really have is my mom and my dad, and well, Liam. So you don’t know how excited I am to have another living—”
Cutting me off, she raises her hand, taking a hard slap to my face. The echoes of gasps that fill the ballroom stop everyone in their tracks. I slowly lift my hand to my now burning cheek.
“Ye shameful child. What do ye have to say for yerself?” I’m stone still, in shock. I try and fight it, but my eyes fill with tears. Christof tries to step forward, but she continues on. “Did he ever tell ye how he shamed his village? How he left his family just a short time after his father left us? Ye should not have been brought back here. Ye half bred disgrace. Ye disgust me. A spoiled child like yerself will never be our queen—”
Christof steps between us. “Berta, that’s enough. Ye will not speak to her like that.”
I don’t stick around to listen to another word spoken from her hateful mouth. Pulling out of Christof’s grip, I pick up my dress and run toward the main entrance of the castle, pushing my way passed gaping eyes as I run outside, down the stone pathway. The sky is dark, making it hard to figure out where to go. I head toward the one place I know, the rose garden. I make it into the center of the gardens and find an exposed spot. It’s then I slide to the ground, placing my face into my hands. I can’t help but let the tears fall. Why did Locke bring me here if he knew no one wanted me here? If he didn’t even want me here? I shake my head in my hands as the tears begin to turn into sobs. I just want to go home. I want out of this stupid place.
“Are ye alright?”
I whip my head up to see Locke’s silhouette in the darkness. My sadness immediately turns to anger. I jump up, throwing myself at him. I raise my fists up and push hard against his chest. “Am I alright? Am I alright? No, I am not alright, dammit!! Why did you bring me here?! Why are you doing this to me?” I begin slamming my closed fits into his chest, and he allows me to do so, over and over until I grow tired.
“Because this is where ye belong.”
His answer only ignites more fire in me. I lift my arms and push him again, but he doesn’t budge. “God, stop saying that! You know I don’t! Send me home. Give me that damn key.” I’m struggling to catch my breath. My hands are now at my sides, my fists turning white.
“I cannot do that.”
Again, I go wild. I go to hit his chest again, but this time he catches my hands, bringing our bodies crashing against one another. “Ye will calm down, at once. Ye are acting crazy.”
He clearly has never had a girlfriend. Because if he did, he would know that was the absolute wrong thing to say to a female if he wanted her to calm down. Therefore, I go off.
“You big ol’ ogre, you don’t tell me I’m acting crazy! I swear to God, I am going to beat the living daylights out of you!” I try and fight out of his hold, but he is only gripping me tighter to him. “Let me go or I am going to scream my head off.”
“And I won’t ask again. If ye don’t calm down, I am going to silence ye,” he says, his eyes practically glowing in the moonlight.
“Give me that key,” I demand, panting in his arms.
“No.”
I open my mouth to scream just as he slams his mouth onto mine. With a crushing force, his lips make contact, and he certainly does silence me. His lips, so soft and perfect, mold around mine. He doesn’t move until he feels me slightly give in. Which is me slightly melting into his arms. He slowly lets go of my restrained arms, grabbing at the back of my neck. Allowing no room to escape, he puts more pressure into his kiss, his tongue beginning to graze my lower lip. My knees begin to weaken. I make a small attempt to fight and rip away from his attack, but he forces my mouth open and his tongue dives inside. I react strangely and instead of continuing to fight him, I moan into his kiss. My brain shuts down and I try to memorize this feeling. How my first real kiss feels like. My arms begin to lift, wanting to wrap them around his neck and never let go. It’s when he presses his body closer to mine and I feel how hard he is, that I realize what is happening between us. I panic, pushing him off me.
This time he allows the release, and I wipe at my tingling lips. “What the hec
k was that for?” I heave.
His breathing isn’t any calmer than mine. “I told ye I would silence ye.”
“You kissed me! Why did you kiss me?”
“Well it worked, didn’t it?” His smug smile makes me want to take my boot to his forehead.
“Yeah, by now making me want to wash my mouth out with bleach!” I wipe at my mouth again. He comes at me, grabbing for my wrist, my birthmark exploding with heat. “I think ye actually liked it. And I also think that—”
“Ahh, there ye two are.” We both turn to see Christof approach. Locke releases my wrist immediately and steps back. “I was worried about ye, and what happened back there. I thought to come search for ye, but I see ye are getting a tour of the rose gardens instead. They are beautiful in daylight. I should bring ye back here sometime, so ye can get the full effect.” He smiles, looking from Locke to me.
“I’m sure she’s gotten a mouth full from me, there’s no need to tell the same old story,” Locke hisses.
“A mouthful I’m sure is what she got.” He winks at me. “Well, if ye two are done here, I would love to escort ye back inside. The temperature tends to drop during the late hours, and it would be wrong to keep such a beautiful lady out in the cold.”
As much as I want to have it out with Locke, I need to get away from him. He takes a step forward, assumingly ready to argue about my exit, so I cut him off. “That would be great. I’m actually really chilly now. Thanks.” I step away from Locke and grab for Christof’s hand, allowing him to direct me toward the castle.
“Brother, I assume ye know yer own way back?” Christof says and turns, offering me his full attention and guiding me out of the garden. Locke doesn’t say another word as we leave.
Once we are out of ear shot of Locke, Christof starts laughing. “Oh man, did ye see his face? If I wasn’t his blood, he may have tried to strangle me, right there and then.”
Unlocking Adeline (Skeleton Key) Page 6