She had to marry the Beast.
Images of her betrothed swirled in her mind. Bald head. Gray beard. Jagged red scar. A touch that would kill her?
Panic seized her, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Luna and Lessa, help me! She slammed her bedchamber door shut. Would anyone hear her if she screamed?
But all she could manage was a strangled whimper. She struggled to breathe as the room started to spin around her. How could she marry that old man? She fell to her knees, her mind flooded with more images of the Beast.
“Are you all right?” Tatiana eyed her curiously.
“Cannot … breathe.”
Tatiana knelt beside her. “I have to admit the Beast was a bit horrid looking. And older than I expected. But look at it this way. He could be great in bed! You know experience counts for something. And you could always keep the bedchamber dark so you don’t have to look—”
“Not helping,” Luciana gasped.
“Oh. Well, maybe you won’t have to bed him. Since his touch kills people, he might decide to leave you alone.”
Luciana moaned. Her survival was dependent on the mercy of a Beast?
“You had better pull yourself together,” Tatiana warned her. “If you fail at this, you’ll die, and Papa will die with you.”
Luciana was so surprised, she stopped gulping air. “Now ye want me to succeed?”
“I want Papa to live.” With a shrug, Tatiana rose to her feet. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to help you.”
Luciana took a slow, deep breath. Her sister was right about one thing. She had to be strong. There was no point in lamenting over her fate. She would have to marry the Beast. And the gorgeous man with the red hair and black horse would be relegated to her dreams.
Her life wouldn’t be that bad, she assured herself. She would keep herself and her father alive. She and her sisters had devised a way to correspond with each other, so she would have their letters to look forward to. And she had a beautiful man to dream about. If she kept him secretly in her heart, no one could take him away from her. As her dream man, he could be perfect. He would think she was beautiful and strong. He would believe in her.
Feeling much better, she stood and looked around the large room. Tatiana was hovering by the bedside table, attempting to touch a stack of notes. She hissed each time her hand passed through them.
“What are those?” Luciana approached her.
With a frown, Tatiana crossed her arms. “Why should I tell you? What could you possibly know about true love?”
“You have a secret admirer?”
Tatiana scoffed. “My life is far more dramatic than that. If you must know, I’ve been having a glorious love affair. With Alberto, the captain of the guard.”
Luciana tried not to let any shock register on her face. After all, she was already harboring a secret dream man in her heart, so she was in no position to judge. Her father had included the captain of the guard’s name on his long list, so she attempted to recall it. “Captain Booger?”
“It’s Bougaire!” Tatiana stomped a foot silently. “No one ever says his name correctly. My poor Alberto. It’s tragic enough that I can never touch him again. Now I can’t even hold his letters.”
“I could read them to you,” Luciana offered.
“No! They’re mine.”
Luciana gathered them up and headed toward the hearth.
“Wait!” Tatiana followed her. “What are you doing?”
“I have to marry a Beast whose touch could kill me. It is far too dangerous for me to keep love letters from another man.”
“We—we could hide them,” Tatiana suggested.
“It’s safer to be rid of them.” Luciana dumped the notes in front of the fireplace.
“You can’t burn them!”
As Luciana picked up a lit candlestick from the nearby table, a terrible thought occurred to her. “Did you write letters to Captain Booger?”
“It’s Bougaire!” Tatiana huffed. “And yes, of course I did. I love him.”
Luciana’s heart sank. “You’re going to get me killed.”
“No!” Tatiana looked aghast. “Alberto would never use them against me. He loves me!”
With a sigh, Luciana sat in front of the empty hearth, then set the candlestick on the floor beside her.
“No,” Tatiana wailed.
“I have to.” Luciana held a letter over the flame, then tossed the burning note into the fireplace.
“My poor Alberto,” Tatiana whispered. “How will he live without me?”
Luciana picked up another note, then hesitated when she saw a tear roll down her sister’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I can’t afford to make the Beast angry. He could kill Father. With that huge army, he could even destroy Vindemar.”
“Fine!” Tatiana waved a hand in the air. “Burn them! It doesn’t matter. Alberto’s love for me will never die.”
“That’s good.” Luciana lit the rest of the notes and tossed them into the fireplace.
There was a knock on the door, then Gabriella walked in with a tray of food. As Luciana returned the candlestick to the table, she noticed her guard was back at the door. And Tatiana had disappeared.
Her maid set the tray on the table, then drew a note from her pocket. “A letter from His Grace. I’ll be back for the tray in a little while.”
“Thank you.” As the maid left, Luciana broke the wax seal with her father’s insignia and unfolded the letter.
My beloved daughter, the note began, and Luciana smiled at the way her father avoided calling her by the wrong name.
I will be conferring with General Harden for the next few hours. There will be a banquet tonight and a celebratory mass tomorrow morning that you will need to attend. Please be sure to go to confession today.
All my love, Father.
Luciana sighed, then read the note again. Who was this General Harden? Captain Harden’s father, perhaps? Whoever he was, she would probably meet him at the banquet.
The thought of going to confession made her groan. So far, she’d avoided having anything to do with the priests who worshipped the Light. As she ate her soup, she recalled the lines her father had taught her to say. And his warning that she not confess anything serious.
With a sigh, she rose to her feet. There was no point in putting this off. She strode to the door of her bedchamber and found her guard standing outside.
“I’m going to the chapel,” she informed him.
He bowed. “I will accompany you, my lady.”
She started down the hall and wondered again what had happened to her new friend, Pirate. She slanted a look at her guard. If he was going to be her shadow, she might as well be friendly with him. “What is your name?”
He blushed. “Jensen, my lady.”
“Thank you for watching over me.”
They started down the stairs, but when they reached the landing, she spotted Captain Bougaire coming up the stairs.
He glared at her, then said, “Jensen, go have your meal. I’ll take over.”
“Aye, Captain.” Jensen dashed down the stairs and out the door.
Luciana started down the stairs, intending to ignore the captain, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her across the landing into a corner.
She gasped. “What are you doing?”
“What have you been doing?” he snarled. “Why aren’t you answering my letters?”
Luciana pulled her arm from his grip. This was the man her sister loved? Alberto’s dark eyes were angry, and his lips curled in a way that made her shudder. She jumped when he slammed his hands on the wall on either side of her.
“I’ve written to you four times,” he growled. “Twice I asked you to meet me in our secret place, and twice you left me there waiting.”
She steeled her nerves and looked him in the eye. “It is not safe for us to meet. My betrothed has arrived—”
“No, he hasn’t. He was delayed a few days.”
“What?” Luciana’s head spun. “The m
an who greeted my father is not my betrothed?”
“That was General Harden.” Alberto chuckled. “You thought you’d have to marry that old man?”
Luciana let out a deep breath. Oh, thank the goddesses!
Alberto suddenly grasped her by the shoulders. “The Beast will be here in a few days. We have to elope!”
She gasped. “Unhand me self. Someone could see—”
“Tomorrow night!” His grip tightened. “Meet me—”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“What?” His fingers dug painfully into her skin. “Don’t back out on me now. I love you. You know that.”
She gritted her teeth. “I am betrothed to another.”
“You love me! You—Ack!” His face contorted with pain, and he jumped back, releasing her.
Pirate growled, his jaws clamped onto Alberto’s leg.
“Get off me!” Alberto yelled.
Luciana slipped by them. “Don’t ever touch me again.”
“What?” Alberto shook his leg, but Pirate held on.
“It’s over!” Luciana ran down the stairs, out the door, and into the courtyard.
She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. The man had unnerved her to the point that her accent had slipped. Thankfully, he hadn’t seemed to notice.
With a shudder, she started toward the western gate. She would probably have bruises on her arms. What had Tatiana seen in that man?
In front of the chapel, she heard a bark behind her. She turned to find Pirate loping toward her.
With a laugh, she knelt down and held out her arms. “My hero!” When he trotted up to her, she gave him a hug, then rubbed his ears. “Good boy. Thank you.”
Pirate sat in front of her, grinning.
“Poor thing.” She cupped his sweet face in her hands. “I bet that ugly oaf tasted awful.” When Pirate whimpered, she laughed and gave him another hug. “Now you wait out here. I have to go inside for confession.”
He gave her a forlorn look.
“I know.” She eyed the chapel. “I’d rather stay out here with you, but this is something I have to do.”
She opened the door and stepped inside. The entrance was dark with stone walls and a smooth stone floor. Candles flickered on a wide table, surrounded by vases filled with sunflowers. The scent of roses hovered in the cool air.
Through a wide, open doorway, she saw rows of wooden pews, lit by the sun streaming through long windows. At the end of the chapel, a few steps ascended to an altar. A large gleaming orb sat on the altar, and an even larger circle of gold was hanging from the high ceiling.
To the side of the altar, she spotted a man in a hooded black robe moving in the dark shadow of an alcove.
“Excuse me, Father?”
He stopped with a jerk, his back turned toward her.
Pirate woofed softly behind her, and she spun around. “What are you doing?” she whispered. “I don’t think dogs are allowed in here.”
He crouched low to the ground and slunk underneath one of the pews.
“Pirate, come out of there.” She leaned over to look at him. He didn’t appear inclined to move. With a sigh, she straightened, then caught a glimpse of the hooded priest slipping into a confessional booth.
You can do this, she assured herself, then strode down the aisle. She opened the door of the booth next to the priest and let herself inside.
It was not quite as dark as she had thought it would be, for there was a small opening at the top of the booth to let in some light. She settled on the wooden chair and glanced toward the metal grate. The man was turned away from her, his face completely hidden by his dark hood.
Was he one of the king’s spies? She would have to be careful and convince the priest she was one of the Enlightened. And not let her accent slip again.
With her best Eberoni accent, she recited the first line. “Greetings, Father. May the Light shine upon you always.”
* * *
Damn, damn, damn!
Leo gritted his teeth. Of all the stupid situations to get himself into. And everything had gone so well up to this point. He’d accompanied Nevis and Brody into the fortress. Brody had shown him the location of Lady Tatiana’s bedchamber before dashing off to the catacombs to shift back into a dog. Then Leo and Nevis had proceeded to the Great Hall, where the midday meal was being served. Leo had remained hidden upstairs on a curtained balcony at the far end of the hall. He assumed it was a gallery for musicians, but with no musicians there, it afforded him the perfect place to study all the people below. When he spotted the three priests busily eating, he hurried to the chapel to search their rooms for the sort of weapons an assassin might have.
Just before he could reach the door that led to their rooms, a female voice had called out to him. Luckily, a dog named Pirate had distracted her. It had only taken a second to realize who Pirate was and who she had to be. And like a fool, he had turned to look at her.
Tatiana. So close. And even more beautiful than he’d imagined.
How long did she intend to pray in the chapel? He couldn’t afford to be trapped in the priests’ rooms until she left, not when the priests could return at any moment. A quick look around gave no sign of another exit. Before she could finish fussing at Brody, he slipped inside a confessional booth. It hadn’t occurred to him that she would enter the next booth. Shit!
When was the last time he’d confessed? Ten years ago? Twelve? He’d seen no reason to tell anything to the king’s spies. But apparently, others still went through the ritual. Perhaps they feared the priests would report them if they didn’t. These days, a bad report from a priest could get a person killed.
She cleared her throat as if she thought he might not be aware of her presence. How could he not be aware? Her voice was soft with the tiniest hint of a lilt. Charming. Her scent of rose petals wafted through the grate. Sweet. He could hear every rustle of her skirt as she settled on a chair. Feminine. If he dared to turn his head, he would see her. Beautiful.
He clenched his gloved hands. Dammit.
“Greetings, Father,” she said softly. “May the Light shine upon you always.”
What was the proper response? He cleared his throat. “Blessed be the Light.”
“Blessed be the Light that can illuminate my sins,” she answered.
He winced. Did she actually have something to confess? Like consorting with one man while she was betrothed to another? He turned his head slightly so he could see her through the grate. She was staring straight ahead, biting her lower lip. Her skin was pale and luminous. Her profile sweet and delicate. Small nose, pink cheeks, and a soft curve to her jaw. She looked so young. And innocent.
“First, if you don’t mind,” she began shyly, “I would like to give thanks to the Light for restoring my health.”
He leaned closer to the grate, trying to see any lingering signs of her close brush with death, but her cheeks were pink and full, her eyes unmarked by shadow. “I heard you were quite ill.”
Her blush deepened and she lowered her head. Her loose black hair swept forward like a silk curtain, hiding her face. So close. He rested a gloved hand against the grate, imagining how soft her hair would be. How soft her skin would be.
“The Light was merciful. I am much better.”
“Beautiful,” he whispered, then turned away quickly when she glanced sharply toward the grate.
“Excuse me?”
“The … the Light is beautiful in his mercy.” He winced and pulled the hood forward to better hide his face. “Did you have something you needed to confess?”
She hesitated, then answered, “I’m afraid so.”
His jaw clenched. If he had to hear about her lover—
“May the Light shine upon my transgressions for the world to see. I—I took a long bath.”
He blinked. “That’s it?”
“Well, it was a really long bath.”
He snorted. “You should be ashamed.” He certainly was, for he was starting to
imagine her naked body immersed in warm, sudsy water.
She sighed. “I’m afraid I lounged in the tub for hours. And I used far more soap than was necessary. I must have lathered up my entire body three times. It was terribly wasteful.”
He groaned silently as more visions flitted through his mind. Long, shapely legs extending into the air with soap sluicing down her skin, headed for her sleek thighs. Rounded breasts, slick and glistening, peeking above the water with soapy bubbles clinging to her nipples.
“And I sent my poor maid out in the heat to gather rose petals to scent the water.”
No wonder she smelled so good. He shifted his weight on the hard chair. His breeches were getting too damned tight.
“And she had to keep heating more water over the fire, because the bathwater would cool down, and I like it hot.”
“Enough!” He rubbed his brow. “No more, please.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry, Father. I won’t take such a long bath again.”
Not unless I’m there to watch. Leo pinched the bridge of his nose. Didn’t a husband have the right to watch? And if she liked it hot … Get ahold of yourself. “If that is all, you may go.”
She hesitated, then peered at him through the grate. “What about my penance?”
“What about it? Come back when you’ve done something you actually regret.” Like killing your own nanny.
She bit her lip and was quiet for a moment.
Oh, shit. She had done something.
“I’m not sure if I should talk about it,” she said.
He grimaced. No, dammit. I don’t want to hear about your lover. Although it was safer for her if he was the one who heard it. If she confessed it to an actual priest, she could be in serious—
“You have probably heard that I’m betrothed.”
He cut a quick look at her. She was looking down at her lap. “Yes, I have.” He eased closer for a better view. She was gripping her hands together.
“He’ll be here in a few days. I-I know I must marry him. It’s the king’s command.” She looked up at him, and he quickly moved back into the shadows. “And I would never disobey. But I—” She lifted her clenched hands to her chest. “I’m afraid … of my betrothed.”
How to Tame a Beast in Seven Days Page 8