The girl frowned at her. “It wasn’t locked.”
“Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“I’m Leanora. Lord Stefan hired me to look after the house and do the cooking.”
“Oh?” The girl didn’t look old enough to be employed, Bryony mused. Her hair was bright red, her eyes brown, her nose and cheeks sprinkled with cinnamon-colored freckles. A long white apron covered a day dress of blue-sprigged muslin.
Smiling tentatively, Leanora stepped inside. Only then did Bryony notice the large, covered basket she carried in one hand, and the small box tucked under her arm. “I wasn’t to start until tomorrow, but Lord Stefan insisted I come by tonight to bring your dinner. Which way is the kitchen?”
Bryony pointed to the doorway. Heart pounding, she waited until the girl was out of sight, then stared at the open door. A quick glance over her shoulder to make sure she was alone and she stepped forward, only to come to an abrupt halt when she tried to cross the threshold. It was like walking into an invisible shield. She tried again and yet again with the same result. She couldn’t get past the threshold.
Wishing she knew some curse words, she slammed the door. And heard her captor’s words in the back of her mind.You will not leave the house.As she made her way intothe kitchen, Bryony couldn’t help wondering if the hired girl would be able to come and go as she pleased, or if she was also trapped in this dreadful place.
Deciding he would rather not spend his days in a coffin, Stefan went into the city that evening where he bought a bed, a bowl and pitcher, and a small chest of drawers. With his needs taken care of, his thoughts turned to the woman. Picturing the fair Bryony in his mind, he picked out several dresses he thought she might like, as well as a cloak lined with fur, a nightgown, robe, and slippers. He also bought a comb and brush and pins for her hair.
He hesitated as he perused the selection of ladies unmentionables. He had purchased gowns for women before, but never undergarments. Perhaps that was something the girl would rather do for herself.
At the stable, he hired a horse and cart and a driver to deliver the items he had bought for his lair, with instructions to leave the goods by the back door. He would see to the things he had purchased for Bryony himself.
The girl he had hired would not be staying in the house. He had instructed her to come in the morning and be gone after she had prepared the evening meal. One mortal living under his roof was temptation enough.
Bryony wiped her mouth on her napkin, sighed as she pushed her plate away. Leanora was an excellent cook, considering the crude kitchen she had to work in. Earlier, Leanora had insisted on washing Bryony’s dress, petticoat,and stockings, even though Bryony had nothing else to wear. The dress, made of yards of heavy cloth, was still damp, leaving Bryony clad in nothing but her chemise and a wool blanket.
Taking a sip of tea, she thought how nice it was to have another woman in the house. It made staying there seem less dangerous somehow. Stefan’s presence, the latent sense of power that clung to him, frightened her on a level she didn’t quite understand. He was tall and muscular, a man in his prime. She knew many men like that, but none of them frightened her the way he did. Of course, none of them had made her a prisoner, either. What were his true intentions? she wondered, and then decided maybe she would rather not know.
Putting her cup aside, she rose from the table, pulled the blanket around her shoulders, and went into the dreary main room. The décor could certainly be improved, starting with the ugly curtains that covered the windows. A few rugs on the floor would not only add color, but warmth. Paintings would be nice, too. Perhaps a vase of flowers on the mantel, along with an ivory figurine or two. A mirror in the bedchamber would also be welcome, she thought, and frowned. She couldn’t stay there now that she knew the bedchamber was his. She glanced at the couch. It was comfortable enough, though a fluffy pillow would be a nice addition since she would be sleeping there from now on.
Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of footsteps, but it was only Leanora.
“I’ll be saying good night now, Miss,” the girl said, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders.
“You’re leaving? But, I thought you’d be living here.”
“No, Miss. But I’ll be back in the morning.”
Bryony nodded. Clutching the blanket, she watched carefully as Leanora opened the door and stepped outside. Running forward, Bryony caught the edge of the door before it could close all the way. But when she tried to leave the house, the same invisible barrier stopped her.
Feeling the sting of despair, she dropped down on the cold tile floor and wept bitter tears.
Stefan muttered an oath when he entered the house and found Bryony sound asleep on the floor, her cheeks stained with tears. Feeling a sharp twinge of guilt, he lifted her into his arms, blanket and all, and carried her up the stairs to his room.
He placed her gently on the bed, then went downstairs to retrieve the bags holding the clothing and other things he had bought for her.
Upstairs again, he peeled the blanket away and tossed it aside. She mumbled something unintelligible, but didn’t wake. For a moment, he considered relieving her of her chemise but some nearly forgotten sense of propriety stopped him. He took a moment to admire her slender form. She was perfect in every way, he mused, her skin flawless, her breasts high and proud, her ankles trim. Unable to resist, he ran his fingers through the long, golden cloud of her hair, caressed her cheek with his knuckles. Fighting the urge to take her in his arms, he pulled the nightgown from the bag and slipped it over her head, tugging it down over her shapely legs before he drew the covers up to her chin.
One night he would have her. It was inevitable. But not tonight. He had much to do before dawn.
Bryony sighed and covered her eyes as the sun’s light danced across her face. Frowning, she sat up and stared at the room’s single window. The thick drape that had covered the glass had been replaced by a lacey pink curtain. Looking down, she gasped when she noticed she was wearing a long, white nightgown. She felt her cheeks grow hot. Who had put her to bed? Who, indeed? she thought, and felt her cheeks grow even hotter. It could only have been Stefan. She blushed from head to foot at the thought of his hands touching her, his gaze moving over her. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she found herself staring at her reflection in the large mirror on the opposite wall. Where hadthatcome from? A blue velvet robe was folded at the foot of the bed. She ran her hands over the soft cloth, thinking it was just as nice as anything she had at home. New curtains, a mirror, a nightgown and robe. They could only have come from Stefan.
Rising, she glanced at the wardrobe. The doors stood open and she saw that his shirts and trousers and other things were gone. In their place hung four lovely gowns. Her half-boots, freshly polished, stood on the floor, along with a new pair of shoes. Why was he being so nice? What did he hope to gain? He had removed his clothing from the room. Did that mean he had moved into one of the other bedchambers? Did he still intend to share her bed? The thought made her shudder.
Hearing a knock at the front door, Bryony grabbed the robe and slipped it on as she went downstairs to greet Leanora.
She came to an abrupt halt at the foot of the stairs. The ugly black curtains were gone here, too, replaced by floor-to-ceiling damask draperies. Several colorful rugs brightened the floor. A large painting of a four-masted ship at sea hung over the fireplace. A crystal vase filled with colorful spring flowers stood on the mantel alongside the ivory figure of a unicorn.
Bryony frowned. Everything she had thought about the night before was laid out before her. How was that possible?
With a shake of her head, she rounded the staircase to bid Leonora good morning. Only there was no sign of her. Wondering why the girl hadn’t let herself in, Bryony opened the door.
