“You needn’t fear,” his voice hoarsely rasped, “but I would see you as my bride before I leave. Loosen the gown, and let me look at you.”
Time ceased to exist as Erienne hesitated. She wanted to deny the request but knew that she would be foolish to test him after he had committed himself to such restrictions. Her fingers shook as she unfastened the opening, and she stood in quaking silence as the gown slid to her feet. She could not meet the blank, inhuman gaze of the mask as it ranged with deliberate slowness over the full detail of her, pausing at length on the pale-hued breasts and the slender curve of her hips. She fastened her gaze on a distant point and struggled to quell the shriek of utter panic that was building deep within her. If he touched her again, she knew she would break and crumble until she groveled and begged for mercy at his feet.
When it came, his hollow whisper was enough to make her flinch and stare in wide-eyed fear at the stark, emotionless mask.
“Get into bed before you catch a chill.”
His command penetrated her paralyzed thoughts. Erienne eagerly sought the covering of her gown and fled like a startled doe to the haven of the quilts. Sinking into the downy softness of the bed, she pulled the comforters up close about her chin. Lord Saxton stood where she had left him, as if he fought some greater battle within himself. Cautiously she watched until he swung his heavily booted foot about and went to the door, dragging his foot behind him. The panel closed as he left, and silence filled the room. Only the fading sound of his passage remained, but it was enough to shred the young bride’s emotions. In total relief and absolute misery, she sobbed into the pillow, paying no heed to the passing of the moon or darkness creeping over her room as the fire dwindled to a dull glow in the hearth.
Chapter Nine
GLISTENING bright sunlight filled the bedchamber in rich abundance as Aggie threw back the heavy drapes. Rousing slowly, Erienne blinked and shaded her tear-swollen eyes from the blinding brilliance, then huddled deeper into the soft warmth of the comforters, not yet ready to face another day as wife of Lord Saxton.
“The master be comin’ up ter see ya, mum,” the housekeeper announced with gentle but unmistakable urgency. “And I know ye’ll be wantin’ ter look yer best for him.”
Erienne groaned her rebellion and passionately shook her head beneath the covers. At the moment, crooked teeth and a large wart on the end of her nose would have better suited her needs, since winning Lord Saxton’s approval was the farthermost thing from her desire. Indeed, she would rather not have attracted him at all, and she could see no need in rousing his interest beyond what it already was.
“Come now, mum,” Aggie coaxed. “Ye’ve too fair a face ter be hidin’ it, especially from the master. Mark me words, mum. Ye’ll come ter rue the day ye were less than kindly.”
Erienne threw off the covers and sat up, turning a worried countenance to the woman. “I don’t suppose you’d know,” she began in an anxious rush, “if Lord Saxton has ever displayed a tendency toward violence?”
Jovial laughter bubbled from the woman as she moved her head slowly from side to side. “The Saxtons have always been most gentle with their womenfolk. Ye needn’t fear anything from him, mum. But if ye’re wise”—she raised a brow and looked directly into the wide, amethyst-blue eyes as she stressed the word—“ye’ll treat him with the reasonable regard and have a care for his pleasure. He’s a wealthy man…beyond most lords…and…”
“Pah!” Erienne flounced back on the bed in disgust. “I care not a whit for his wealth. All I ever wanted was a reasonable, gentle husband, a man I could show some fondness for. Not one who frightens me with his mere presence.”
She didn’t care if this was just a servant and she was being indiscreet with her emotions. Considering the circumstances, her feelings had to be obvious to everyone, and if it was a folly to be frank with this woman, then it was better to know one’s enemies from the beginning than to live a lifetime of deception.
“The fear will pass, mum,” Aggie Kendall encouraged gently. “Until then, ’tis a good thing ter look yer best in every situation, lest one day ye regret it.” She poured water into the washbasin, dipped a cloth into it, and after wringing it out, handed it to her young mistress. “For yer eyes, mum, ter take the sleep from ’em.”
A few moments later, when the master of Saxton Hall entered the chamber with his ponderous gait, no evidence of Erienne’s restless night remained. Hair brushed to a lustrous sheen, a deep red velvet dressing robe donned, and temples and wrists touched with an attar of rose, she was ready to solicit any man’s approval. Erienne laid the blame to Aggie’s gentle but unwavering insistence, for the housekeeper had hovered over Tessie’s shoulder to see that the toilette was accomplished without delay, lest they keep the master waiting. Pleased with the results, Aggie gave a last glance toward the couple before hurriedly making her departure, pushing Tessie ahead of her, and leaving Lord Saxton alone with his young bride.
“Good morning, madam,” the voice sighed through the opening of the mask.
A stiff-necked nod gave evidence of Erienne’s unflagging wariness. “Milord.”
His tone was softened with humor. “You seem to have suffered no ill effects from your first night here as mistress of the manor.”
A brief shrug lifted her slender shoulders. “Tessie is quite talented…and Aggie very persistent.”
“You must forgive Aggie, my dear. She is absolutely loyal to the family, and she sees in you a hope for its continuation. Indeed, she’s anxious for us to produce an heir.”
Erienne had the feeling he was laughing at her, but she could find no cause for his amusement. The subject was one she wished most dearly to avoid. Her silence spoke for itself as she maintained a cool disinterest. Lord Saxton was undismayed.
“I have no preference myself. A girl with her mother’s eyes would suit me just as well.”
Moving to stand near the dressing table, Erienne cast a cautious glance back at him as she rearranged the crystal vials. “And what of a son, milord? If he were to resemble his father, what would he look like?”
“You need have no fear, my dear. A man’s scars do not carry to his offspring.”
She released her breath haltingly and looked about, feeling the cage of despair closing in about her. “Is that why you bought me? To carry on the line?”
“As I’ve told you before, madam, I purchased you because I wanted you. Everything else is of secondary importance. The children you bear will undoubtedly be treasured because you will be their mother. Offspring by another woman might not be so dear. You are, my lovely Erienne, the one who has haunted my thoughts and dreams.”
“Am I, then, to be your prisoner here?”
“You’ll be nothing of the sort, madam. I assure you of that. If you desire an outing, you have only to inform me or one of our servants, and the coach will be provided for you. If you enjoy riding, there is a fine mare with white stockings and a good temperament in the stables. Keats will be happy to saddle her for you. There is, however, a thing I would caution you about. Without proper escort ’twould not be advisable to wander any distance. I plead caution in traveling beyond the immediate area of the manor. For your own safety, madam, I urge this.”
“I have heard tales of miscreants roaming this North country, but I have yet to face any more villainous than those who attempt to warn me of them.” Erienne dismissed the occurrence that had driven her and Christopher from the tumbledown stable. After all, it was not certain whether those men had been highwaymen.
“ ’Tis my wish, madam, that you never meet the ones who prey upon the countryside.”
Erienne looked pointedly at him. “Have you met them, milord?”
“ ’Twas not the Scots who torched Saxton Hall, I assure you. Since my life may depend upon my caution, I have learned to be wary of many.”
Beneath the blank stare of the mask, she lowered her gaze and spoke in a low voice. “I am curious to know why the manor was burned. If it was deliberate, c
an you tell me the reason?”
“Madam, there is not much I know about the ones responsible, but I do know that their instinct for survival is great. Like a pack of wolves, they strike out at anything that threatens them.”
“Did you threaten their existence?”
“My very presence is a threat to them.”
Her brow puckered slightly. “Then surely they’ll try again.”
He nodded in cold agreement. “Aye, but they’ll not catch me unaware.”
“You seem quite certain of that.”
“Madam, of all people, you should be the one to realize that I leave as little as possible to chance.”
The next several days dragged by as if they were weighted with heavy chains, and Erienne found no ease for her fear of Lord Saxton. When he walked the dark halls of the manor with that halting gait, her attention froze as she waited and listened. Yet as threatening as that sound was to her serenity, she had learned to be leery of the silence even more. For one so obviously hampered, Lord Saxton seemed able to move about at times without the slightest whisper of movement, like a ghost or a shadow in the night. And it was indeed at night when her trembling disquiet burgeoned, for she would suddenly find him in the room, that blank, expressionless mask turned toward her with not even a slight glimmer visible behind its gruesome half smile.
Though the door to her bedchamber had a stout and sturdy lock, she had not found the courage to test it or his command, lest her blatant refusal of his entry arouse his wrath and bring some terrible dark vengeance down upon her. Thus, in whatever state of dishabille she happened to be, whether bereft of clothes; meagerly garbed, or thankfully robed, she had no choice but to accept his company. She quickly learned that having Tessie in attendance was no deterrent either, for with a slight gesture of his gloved hand he would dismiss the girl, and in quick obedience the maid would abandon her mistress to whatever fate the master intended.
While he was in the room, Erienne was tormented by uncertainty. He had given his word only to the limit of his restraint. If he were pressed beyond that, she could find herself reluctantly easing his desires. In her mind was formed a haunting vision of herself cowering and quivering with hysterical pleas tumbling from her trembling lips. The vision frightened her, for she realized it could very well become a reality if he tried to take her.
When the moment came when she found him gone, no longer standing in the shadows, no longer sitting in his chair, a feeling of great relief swept over her. She had survived another night; she would see another day. Yet, like a thief in the back of her mind, there was a thought that robbed her of peace. It was the sure knowledge that at some time, one day, one night, one moment the debt would be called due, and she would be required to pay in full.
A week had not yet aged to maturity when Aggie came to fetch the morning tray, bringing with her a summons from Lord Saxton bidding the mistress to join him in the great chamber. Erienne accepted the directive with a low, inarticulate murmur of acknowledgment, but inwardly she quaked. She was certain he intended to bring up the matter of their relationship, to ridicule her for not being the loving wife she had promised to be, and she was horrified at the prospect of the confrontation.
While Tessie helped her into her dressing gown and brushed her hair, Erienne strived to control her quaking. She fervently hoped that something would divert her husband’s attention so she might avoid the session with him, but the idea was only a wish and had no basis in fact. The moment swiftly came for her to face her husband.
Pausing a moment at the entry to the great chamber, she drew a deep breath and tried to collect herself. She was not at all sure she had succeeded when she passed through the arched portal and stepped into the beast’s lair. Lord Saxton was standing before the hearth with an arm braced across the back of a chair. Erienne attributed it to her fear of the moment that he appeared to stand half again as tall as normal. His towering height did not diminish as she neared.
Though its cloth was velvet and the neckline high, the robe seemed inadequate beneath his close regard, but she had learned in their brief marriage that he did not miss an opportunity to watch her or to admire what he had claimed as his. She sank into the chair that faced him, feeling a need to relieve her trembling limbs. Whatever courage she had mustered had dwindled to little more than a troubled apprehension. She made a play of smoothing her robe to keep from looking at him, but he was patient, and finally there was nothing left to do but raise her gaze to the blank, staring mask.
“There are some things that need to be purchased from Wirkinton, madam,” he stated in his strange, low, whispery voice, “and I thought you might enjoy the outing. I have asked Aggie to go with you.”
“Will you not be going also, milord?” Erienne asked, barely managing to control the note of hope in her voice.
“I have other business to attend. I shall not be able to accompany you.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Why, madam, I expect you to spend the day shopping for whatever you will,” he answered in a tone of mild surprise. He tossed a small leather purse onto the table beside her, where it landed with a solid “thunk” that betrayed its wealth. “This should suffice for the day. If there is something of greater value you desire, inform Tanner so he might mark it and return for it later.”
“I’m sure this will be more than enough, milord,” Erienne assured him softly, taking up the pouch.
“Then I will let you be on your way. Aggie is no doubt eager to get started.” He paused a long moment before adding, “I will assume that you will be considerate of the woman and give her no anxious moments…”
“Milord?” Erienne’s tone was one of confusion.
“Aggie will feel remiss in her duties should something go awry.”
Erienne felt his pointed stare and lowered her eyes as a blush deepened the hue of her cheeks. The fact that the notion of flight had flitted more than once through her thoughts made it difficult to meet his gaze and pretend innocence. She nodded slightly in submission. “She’ll have no reason to worry, milord. I shall not stray of my own accord.”
“ ’Tis good then.” He moved with his awkward gait to the fireplace and stood staring down into the flames a long moment before he faced her again. From behind the slashes in the mask his eyes seemed to glimmer at her as he spoke. “I will be awaiting your return, madam.”
Hesitantly she rose to her feet. “Then I am free to go?”
He dipped his hooded head in assent. “Of course, madam.”
The thrill of being set free for a day surged through Erienne, and it was hard to hold her steps to a dignified walk. Her feet carried her quickly across the room, leaving the master of Saxton Hall staring silently after her.
With something akin to a child’s eagerness, Erienne settled back against the plush carriage seats and snuggled her velvet cloak close about her smiling face. Aggie’s presence reminded her that she was not entirely free, but the woman’s happy chatter helped to liven the journey. After almost a week of marriage, to be allowed to escape, however briefly, was like a reprieve from hell. Not that Lord Saxton had treated her unkindly. Indeed, despite his terrifying appearance, he had been most gentlemanly. Still, there had been times when she had almost felt as if she had been confined to a dungeon and was only waiting for the torture to begin. It had been a strained, tense week, but now, at least for a few hours, she could relax without the threat of his presence.
The coach eased through the narrow streets of Wirkinton, winding its way to Farthingale Inn, where it halted. There, while the ladies enjoyed a light repast and visited the nearby shops, Tanner would remain and await their pleasure or need.
Once fortified with the warming tea and nourishment, Erienne inspected the list of goods that were to be purchased, then with Aggie at her side promptly set to the task. In the confident manner of a mistress of a great house, she went to the different stalls and shops, inspected the items, and bargained for the best prices until the merchants begged
for mercy. She listened patiently as they praised their goods. Then unmoved, she declared that unless the price were fair, she would have to go elsewhere, after which they heaved disappointed sighs and gave in, unwilling to see even the smallest profit slip through their fingers. The housekeeper stood back with a pleased smile, assured that this was indeed a mistress who would do her husband proud.
The thought of escape was far from Erienne’s mind when she bade Aggie to buy fresh fruit at the market down the street while she looked for a coppersmith from whom she might acquire a pot for the kitchen. Aggie did not hesitate but hastened off. Erienne readjusted the several packages she carried before setting off on her errand.
She was not immediately successful in her quest and was contemplating a return to the coach to rid herself of her burdens when from a nearby shop several overdressed and overexposed strumpets bustled onto the cobbled thoroughfare. Erienne struggled with her packages to avoid the oversize skirts and petticoats and the dangerous ribs and tips of the parasols that seemed to jab her from every hand. Before the women could move on, a group of seamen descended upon them, and to her horror Erienne found herself seized from behind. The bundles of merchandise fell to the cobblestones, and she was hauled around to face a bearded tar whose shape and size resembled that of a walrus.
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