“I would be happy to, if given the chance.”
“I have no interest in you knowing me, because I have no interest in knowing you. This is an arrangement, nothing more. All you are is a bargain that I have to live up to.”
I clutch my dress over my chest, as if physically trying to shield myself from an invisible wound. What did I expect differently? What had I really been hoping for? Some great romance? Ha. The type of love in the stories young girls read isn’t true. I’ve seen “love” between my father and Joyce. That is the only love that’s real, and it is not something to want.
No, I didn’t want him to love me. But, maybe, I’d hoped I would not be seen as a burden, for once.
“Fair enough,” I say softly.
“Is there anything else? Or are you satisfied?”
“I’m satisfied.”
“Good. I expect to have no issues from you while you are here. Heed the rules, and you will want for nothing as long as you, or I, walk this mortal plane. You will never have to cross my path again.”
The chair squeaks as he stands; his footsteps fade. I wish I had something else to say, or a clear picture of what I wanted. But the fact is I’ve never been allowed to want anything in my life. I’ve been told what I can and can’t have for so long that whatever skill a person is born with to make those choices has been lost to me. It has withered and died from never being used.
I sit for almost a full ten minutes after I’m certain he’s gone, just staring out into the dark woods. Night has fallen and the moon is waning, so it’s almost impossible to make out the dark silhouettes that bar the forest. The longer I stare the more I am filled with a strange sensation that something is staring back at me.
Unable to tolerate the uneasiness any longer, I head for my own room. But as I emerge in the hall I hear footsteps in the main entry. My head slowly turns toward the door that serves as the entrance to my wing. Against my better judgment, I creep across and press my ear to the door.
There are muffled voices on the other side, but I cannot make out what they say. The words are strange, and foreign, spoken in a tongue that I don’t recognize. I tread lightly over to one of the windows that overlooks the circular drive. It’s empty. Not even the carriage that took me here is parked out front any longer.
Who is there?I wonder. Do others live here? Oren made it sound like there were only three of us in the manor. Would he lie? If so, why?
Heed the rules and you will want for nothing, Lord Fenwood said. Oren had also made those rules clear: I am not to leave my wing at night regardless of the sounds I hear. Whatever the lord gets up to in the late hours is not my business.
Fine. I don’t mind being more long-term house guest than wife.
I retreat to my room and ready myself for bed. The mattress and duvet are among the most comfortable I’ve ever felt and I quickly fall into a dreamless sleep…
Only to be woken within the hour by bloodcurdling screams.
