An Unsuitable Match

by Glint, Chloe

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Camille stood beside Kale in a grand ballroom with marble floors and a ceiling painted with murals of beautiful, nude women. Jewels glistened as ladies walked the floor in the candlelight. Tables were laden with plates of fat chickens, potatoes simmered in butter and garlic, and freshly picked fruit. People talked in corners while a group of dancers paraded in the middle of the room. Her sister would have fluttered around like a great butterfly, catching the attention of every man. Unfortunately, that was not the case with her. This was exactly the sort of situation she tried to avoid. There were too many people, too many noises, and too many smells. She fought the urge to turn and flee. If it wasn't for Kale, she just might have.

  "You're trembling," Kale muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "Are you nervous?"

  "I'm not used to parties," she admitted. "My sister was the one who enjoyed a glamorous lifestyle, not me. Our wedding was far smaller than this, and even then, I thought there were too many people."

  Though then she'd been anxious for other reasons…

  "You look gorgeous." Kale squeezed her hand. "Don't be so anxious. Everything is fine. In fact, half the room is looking at you."

  Kale was not wrong. Heads turned in her direction. She told herself that people were looking because of the necklace her husband had given her, but an old, bitter voice in the back of her head muttered, They're looking at you because you're strange. She fought down her unease and let out a shaky sigh.

  After giving her a comforting smile, Kale pulled her forward through the crowd. He led her toward the food table. The smell of chicken and delicate sauces permeated the room. Just as she began to contemplate what she wished to eat, a short, bearded man who was as wide as he was tall jumped in front of them. He smelled more of chicken than the chicken itself did. A goblet full of red wine was in his fist.

  "Kale, my boy," the man said, his voice a drunken slur. "Good to see you."

  "Good to see you too." Kale grinned and nodded. "Sir Francis, I would like to introduce you to my wife, Lady Camille. Wife, this is Sir Francis. He was my tutor when I was a boy."

  "Ah." Sir Francis beamed and reached for her hand. He kissed it with a wine wet mouth. "Your wife is extremely beautiful. You have made a fine match."

  "She is, isn't she?" Kale nudged her with a sweet, knowing grin on his face.

  Just as her cheeks grew hot, three ladies dressed in fine gowns crossed the dance floor. One was just as plump as Sir Francis with brunette hair in a bun upon her head. Two younger girls, both blondes with blue eyes, followed after her.

  "Oh, hell, my wife's coming," Sir Francis whispered. "She's been a monster these past couple of months. Wish she was half as pretty as your bride."

  At that moment, the brunette and the two younger girls made it to them.

  "Honey!" Sir Francis drew out the word so it lasted for ages. He bent in to kiss his wife's cheek, but she pushed him aside.

  "Don't touch me." She scowled at him. Her expression softened when she laid eyes on Kale, but he quailed beneath her gaze anyway. "Kale, how lovely it is to see you. This must be your wife. She's as lovely as everybody said."

  "Thank you, Lady Katherine."

  Her eyes widened. Who had been calling her lovely? The sharp tongued woman was also surprisingly kind. She smiled for the first time that evening. Perhaps this night would not turn out so horribly after all. As fear fled from her, she suddenly had a terrible thirst from some wine.

  "Husband." She reached for Kale's arm. "I am going to fetch some wine. Would you like me to bring you some?"

  "That would be lovely." Kale beamed at her, then kissed her hand sweetly. "Hurry back."

  As she turned to search for the servant carrying the drinks, she heard Sir Francis say, "I'm thirsty. Why don't you go get me some wine, Katherine?"

  Katherine snapped, "You've got a full glass of wine in your hand, Henry."

  She shook her head and cut through the pack of dancers. A few women smiled at her. Since kind words had caused her paranoia to fade, she smiled back but continued on her quest to locate the wine carrier. She finally found him. He was in front of three ladies who were looking rosy cheeked already. Unfortunately, somebody grabbed her arm. Somebody with a strong grip.

  "I need to speak to you," said the cold voice of Kale's father. "Now."

  Her blood ran cold. "Sir Thomas, what's the matter?"

  "Like you wouldn't know, you little harlot." Sir Thomas dug his claws into her arm.

  Everything slowed down. The piano's song was slow and mournful instead of fast and cheerful. The dancers moved to the beat of this new chord. She was in trouble. She didn't know what she had done, but she did know that Sir Thomas's tone held only anger. What is going on? She sought out Kale in the crowd and saw that Sir Francis had doubled over in the middle. Katherine berated her husband as Kale dragged the man over to a chair. He was too focused on that to see that she was in trouble.

  She gasped. "Let me go get my hus—"

  "No." Sir Thomas's voice was bitter. "Now."

  With more strength than she thought one man could have, Sir Thomas dragged her out of the ballroom and into the hallway. She followed after him, her fists balled at her sides as she lost feeling in her legs. What was going to happen to her? What had caused Sir Thomas's wrath? She wanted to cry, but she wouldn't. When she was alone, she could shed as many tears as she wanted.

  Sir Thomas led her into a tea room with a single candle lit in the corner. With the light being so dim and with Kale's father being so close, the room appeared smaller than it was. Walls closed in on her and her world spun. She strained to breathe as she imagined herself being crushed alive, her blood staining the floor. Maybe if she talked to Sir Thomas and found reason, then she could save herself from her claustrophobia.

  "I don't understand why you took me in here," Camille said.

  Kale's father's eyes were dark pits as he glared at her. "You don't know? Hmmm. Let me fill you in on a few details. You. The butler. The library. It seems to me that your father misrepresented you. I thought it was your sister who paraded herself around as a whore, not you."

  Anger roared in her chest. "My sister is not a whore, and I am not one either!"

  "Do not talk to me like that." Kale's father slapped her across the face so hard she stumbled backward and tripped over a chair.

  When she hit the ground, she bit her tongue and tasted blood. Her head burned. As she lay on her stomach, her face burning as she blinked to get her vision back, her heart thundered in her ears. She pressed her hand against her cheek and felt how hot her skin was. Even the slightest pressure caused it to ache even more than it already did. Yet her heart hurt more than her face. She'd never been struck before, not even by her parents. She sat up, her eyes brimming with tears that she refused to shed for such an awful person.

  "Don't you dare talk to a man in such a spiteful tone." Sir Thomas crossed his arms and glared down at her. "You are nothing more than a vessel for whatever children my son will have. You have no other uses beside that."

  She could not think of anything to say. Buzzing wasps filled her ears. Was this really happening? Time slowed down again.

  "Do not ever again let me hear that you were seen doing something improper." Sir Thomas's lips were thin. "Do you understand me?"

  The man glared at her, but she did not move. Her teeth chattered.

  "I said, do you understand me?" Sir Thomas snarled.

  She nodded, then hid her face. Sir Thomas growled in satisfaction and left the room. After the door slammed shut, she finally allowed herself to burst into tears. Her weeping was so fierce she wasn't sure if she wouldn't cry herself dry.

  ****

  A long time had passed and Kale could not find Camille anywhere in the ballroom. Where did she go? He scanned the room, but he did not see his lovely wife. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but he felt that something awful had happened to her. It was not like her to leave his side for this long. He had to admit that he
had grown accustomed to having his lovely wife at his side. He missed the woman. He spotted his father standing in the corner of the room looking smug and decided he would start his search by asking him if he'd seen her.

  Once he had sidestepped the dancers, he made it to his father's side. "Father, have you seen Camille anywhere?"

  His father laid his cold eyes on him. "Yes, I did. I think she went for a walk somewhere. I saw her go out into the hallway."

  "A walk?" But she was supposed to fetch wine. His stomach churned more. "Perhaps I had better search for her. This isn't in her nature."

  His father reached out and seized his arm. "Wait."

  Kale froze and gazed up into his father's face. "Yes? What is it?"

  "Before you go get your wife, I have a present for you." His father's eyes sparkled. "Just for you."

  "A present?" His father rarely even gave gifts during Christmas time.

  "Can it wait?" Kale asked. "I am rather concerned about my wife."

  "It can't wait." His father's tone was impatient and clipped. "Please."

  "Well…" Kale glanced warily at the door, hoping his wife would walk through it so he could stop worrying.

  He blew out a sigh and looked at his father's dark face. The man appeared determined. How long would it take him to receive a gift? Twenty minutes, at most? After that, he could go in search of his wife. He nodded.

  With a grin, his father headed toward the door. The man led him through the door, down the hallway, and up the stairs. As Kale followed, he wondered what gift his father could possibly have to give him. Why exactly was he in such a hurry to give it to him, anyway? He tightened his fists and once again wished that Camille was around. She had become more of a comfort to him than he had realized.

  As he groaned, his father showed him to the front of his own room. He glanced at the man in confusion. A light shown underneath the door. Was his wife inside? Was that his gift? It didn't make any sense. His father turned the handle of the door and stepped inside. After Kale followed the man a few steps, he froze.

  Standing in the middle of the room was not his wife but a maid. A maid who could have been Gabrielle's twin. Her hair was golden and ran down to her lower back. Her wide eyes were a shimmering blue. Her skin was frail and flawless. She had long legs and breasts so large it would take both hands to just cup one. She was a little taller and a little thinner than Gabrielle, but if he had seen her from behind, he would have thought her to be the same woman.

  "What is this, Father?" Kale asked, feeling as though he had been kicked in the stomach.

  "Your gift." His father wore an amused expression. "I felt guilty about leaving you with a horse as a wife, so I thought I would give you a gift to ease your suffering. She's a fine specimen, this girl. I believe her looks are to your liking."

  The words stung. Camille was no horse.

  "Don't you dare call my wife a horse," Kale muttered.

  His father gave him a cold look. "How dare you talk back to me after all I have given you."

  Kale stiffened and shook his head. All his father had given him was pain and despair.

  "You aren't going to thank me?" His father snarled at him and waited. Kale said nothing. "Fine. Then I will take my leave and rejoin the party."

  The man took three steps and then paused. He glanced over his shoulder.

  "You know, you are just like your mother," his father hissed. "It's a wonder I bother to speak with you at all."

  Not knowing how big of a compliment he had just paid him, his father finally left the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

  ****

  Camille stood, numb except for her burning cheek, and stared into the fire. The door clicked open behind her. She whirled around, fearful that it was Kale's father back for more, and froze when she saw it was not. It was Mr. Kent who was holding a large sack in his hand. When he spotted her, he froze and his mouth fell open.

  "What on earth happened to you, milady?"

  The words woke her up and another tear slipped from her eye. She covered her face in her hands and shivered. Mr. Kent crossed the room within moments and gently drew her hands away from her face. He pressed his hand against her swollen cheek.

  "Heavens." Mr. Kent paused. "Your face. Who did this to you? I know Sir Kale would never raise his hand against you."

  She bit her bottom lip.

  "It was Sir Thomas, wasn't it?" Mr. Kent whispered.

  She managed a halfhearted nod.

  "I knew the man was a monster, but this…" Mr. Kent squared his shoulders and seized her wrist. "We must tell Sir Kale about this at once."

  She buried her feet into the ground. "I cannot. I feel ashamed."

  Mr. Kent turned his gaze upon her, his eyes narrowed. "The only one who should feel ashamed about this is Sir Thomas, milady."

  The words gave her some strength. She nodded and followed after Mr. Kent, though her stomach squished and her hands trembled.

  ****

  Kale stood in the middle of the room, his eyes wide. He'd almost forgotten the maid was in front of him. He could not believe his father would sink so low as to deliver him a mistress and expect him to be happy about it. How can you be so surprised, though? The man has been nothing but cruel to you for years. Yet this was even more horrid than usual, especially since he had a wife.

  As he swallowed, the maid stepped toward him, cocking her radiant head. "Master?"

  The woman had a French accent so thick he could hardly understand what she was saying. He wondered whether she knew English.

  "I want you to leave," Kale said. "I don't need you. Go away, before my wife gets back. She'll be upset just having you in the room."

  The woman untied the strings of her blouse and let it fall open. Her fat bosoms were exposed beneath the candlelight. He was repulsed by his own urgings toward him. He shut his eyes and shook his head. The maid reached out and took his hand, then pressed it against her warm breast. Good God, where does Father find these women? He was just about to rip his hand away when he heard the door creak open from behind him and his wife and Mr. Kent stormed in.

  His wife took one look at him with his hand pressed against the maid's heaving breast and fled from him. His heart leapt and his legs went numb. He imagined what his wife had just seen. At least, what she'd thought she'd seen. He shoved the maid away and tore after his wife.

  He tore through the hallway and down the stairs, running as fast as he could. His wife burst out the main door and fled into the night. Though he rushed after her, she disappeared into the blackness within moments.

  "Camille!" he screamed, his heart breaking.

  No one answered, and his wife did not return to him.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Camille finally stopped beneath the trunk of a large tree. She, sobbing uncontrollably, sunk to the ground and buried her face into her knees. She felt like the world's greatest fool. How could she have thought that Kale actually loved her? It sickened her now, to think that she had fallen for the man's games. She could not get the image of his hand pressed against the bosom of the beautiful blonde woman out of her head. It made her grow so ill that she longed to vomit.

  More than anything, she wanted to go home. She wanted to retreat to Gabrielle and let her sister hug her and call Kale all the bad names she wasn't supposed to say. But she couldn't do that. She was alone in the woods. Her heart hurt. She gazed through the trees at the shimmering light of Sir Thomas's estate in the distance and tasted something bitter in her mouth.

  The day she had gotten married, she thought she had known the worst kind of pain. She had loved somebody who did not love her back. But now, she knew she had been wrong. The agony she had endured the day of her wedding had been a childish pain. It had been an insult to her vanity, not her actual heart. She had not known Kale at all. Words of whimsy on a page only created superficial love. It was love that was felt when getting to know a person that caused heartbreak.

  That was what she was enduring now. She ga
zed down at the spectacular necklace her spouse had given her, then tore it off of her neck. She let it fall from her fingers to the ground. She didn't care how expensive the trinket had been. It was nothing to her now. She shook her head and continued to walk through the forest.

  ****

  Kale charged toward the woods with Mr. Kent at his side. He leapt over logs and underbrush, not caring that his face was sweaty and that he was out of breath. How could things have gone so wrong so quickly? One second, he'd been at the party, the next he was losing Camille, the woman he had grown to love above all else. Even if the woman did return to him in body, he didn't know how he could have her back in soul. She was not a fool and had seen him with his hand pressed against the breast of another woman. He was innocent, but he didn't know how he could prove it to her. But the first step was finding her. There were wolves out in these parts capable of tearing his fragile bride to shreds. He would not allow that to happen, not if he had to chase after her all night.

  "How bad did it look?" Kale whispered. "When you walked in, how bad?"

  Mr. Kent didn't say anything. Kale froze.

  "The woman forced herself on me. I tried to push her away." Kale trembled. "I swear to God, I never would have—"

  Mr. Kent put a hand on his shoulder. "I know, Sir Kale. Your moral character would not allow you to betray your wife's trust. I saw the look on your face when we came inside. You looked surprised and aghast. A man does not wear such an expression in the midst of carnal pleasure."

  "Did Camille see that too?" Kale gasped. "Or did she…"

  "She was right behind you." Mr. Kent sighed. "All she could have seen is your hand, well, where it was. But Camille knows your character too. I don't blame her for running away in her shock, but I have no doubt she will return to you."

  "Yes." Kale swallowed. "But in what condition? I must find her."