“Madelaine?” A familiar voice asked as I flung myself into the arm chair from last night. Tension flew through my body and I went to stiffly stand up and walk out the door.
“You find this room comforting as well?” Lord Tomas asked, his boots neatly nestled beside his chair, “no need to leave, no one comes in here but William. I am waiting for the messenger to recover, he was sick with fever and terror. What troubles you?”
“No need to worry Lord Tomas.”
“In here Madelaine, there is no need for formalities or courtly manners. It’s just Tomas and Madelaine.”
“Tomas,” I sighed, “you’re different in here, less…”
“Lordy.” He laughed, “though I still do duties in here.” He held up an account book in his arms, shrugging his powerful shoulders. “Where did you leave my coat?” He continued.
“Oh!” I moved for the door again, something akin to fear burrowing into my flesh, “I left it with a servant, I’ll go and-”
“Laine its-”
“Don’t.” I whispered, anger and anguish coating my words along with my insides. “Please don’t call me that.”
“I’m sorry,” he said uncomfortably, “I thought that was your familiar name.
“Captain Hamish,” I sighed, “has addressed me so since I was very little. He knows the child Tomas, you know the woman. Please do not mix the two. You have known me for little more than two days.”
“It feels to be months.” He said, “our betrothal feast is in a week. Our marriage a month from then. As it has stood from the moment you turned from infant to girl.”
“I know,” I whispered, the knowledge clinking against my mind like coins in an empty coffer.
“We haven’t talked of it, have we.” He said gently, resting the account book beside his shoes. “I’m sorry you have not known the boy before the man, though it would have been impossible.”
“Quite.”
He moved to his feet, taking a step towards me so my face was close to his shoulders, “but I think, you would not wish to know the boy.” He said it so softly that I looked up, forcing my glance to become a stare into his chocolate brown eyes.
“I would take the boy, the young man, the leader.”
“And his love?”
I looked down, tearing my eyes away from the glance shared among men. “it is not for sale.”
I moved to leave and he gently gripped my arm, as though I was a priceless book with delicate pages. “I do not want to buy it,” he said roughly, “I want to earn it.”
And there I saw it, in the flicker of his eyes, the careful way he held me. The way I had seen a young kitchen-hand embrace his sweetheart at the estate. Not the aloof attachment of lords and ladies, the stiff-necked agreement of peace treaties. The forced, if enjoyable mingling of houses. This was a promise that he planned for more than vows of social agreement. But of the heart as well. A commoner’s thought.
“Tomas,” I breathed, “who is your mother?”
“Victoria Landon.”
“No, not her I think.” I said, “nor do I think you are who you say you are.”
He leaned closer, “Think carefully on your words Lady Madelaine.” He whispered in my ear, “all walls have ears. You have entered my city, with my guards.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“You are safe here. You will be married to Lord Tomas Landon, you shall be a servant to the king. I am protecting you have things you need not know.”
He let go and grinned his rougish grin, “I mean you no harm. As you have said, you have been here more little more than two days. If you could ask your Lady’s maid to stand down, I would appreciate it.”
I nodded and Sarah disappeared from her place at the back, blood trickling down his neck where she had nicked him in warning.
“How did our company grow cold?” he asked, watching me, “I feel as though I have trapped a song bird.”
“Many nobles have. However-,” I padded up to him, closing the gap once again, “you’re not a normal Lord.”
He watched me warily as I curled my hands behind his neck. I had to know what he hid. Perhaps I was sent here for more than marriage vows. Morbid curiosity overcame his caution and he breathed in my hair, the smell of my skin.
“Who and what are you, Lady Madelaine?” He murmured, “Already I am powerless before you.”
“Lady Madelaine Ann Elwood, only daughter of Lord Adriel and Lady Tamara Elwood.” I recited.
“No,” he said, unclipping my hands and standing back, “there is more to this name. But you will not tell me. Very well. We shall work each other out one way or another.”
“If you wish.” This time I did grip the door handle, remembering how the night before Hamish had me pressed against it.
Tomas was very close, watching me as I began to turn it. His body hummed the tune all men play after I have played with them. But unlike noble brats and king’s men, he was likely to win me.
“You are not Hamish.” I said softly. I’m not sure why I said it, only that it undid something inside me. It reminded me of where my station was, my duty as a noble’s daughter and to my family. “You are more controlled then him.”
I felt, rather than heard him hiss, before he pulled the door shut. Again, I was trapped against the door, with a powerful man holding me under his gaze. Hamish had been so cruel. Would Tomas prove to be as well?
“What did you say?” he asked heavily, “what does that captain have that I cannot acquire? What does a wounded man have that I do not?”
His eyes searched me, and still he did not touched me. Only when in duty, or in polite concern. He did not fight me as Hamish did. He did not look at me with anguish behind thin contempt.
“Honesty.”
He scowled so darkly that the smile he had minutes before was a distant memory. “Perhaps not,” he said, “allow me to be true to you.”
He leaned closer, one hand braced against the door, the other coming to tilt my chin up. His breath was hot as it brushed me, his eyes holding mine in a moments’ question. He slid down and captured my lips, pushing my head against the wood. His mouth tasted warm and soft, as odds with his muscular appearance. He held me gently, as though afraid I would turn to dust before him. I leaned into him and his eyes flew open, before I pushed at his chest. The door creaked open, as though on its own accord and I slipped through to Sarah. She shut the door on the Lord’s face, still braced against the door frame.
I heard a thump as his head came to rest on the door, followed by his fist.
“Do you always play with your food?” Sarah asked me, leading me to my room, “you can only have one main meal.”
I grinned, adrenaline dancing in my veins, “You're right of course. I have no time for heart felt actions”
I stopped by the stair, kneeling to stare. There, at the foot of the stone was a carved mouse. It laughed at me, at my foolish vanity and inability to admit to my own problems. I straightened and flicked my hair over my shoulder. What did a carving know?
Sarah went to follow when she perked up, watching some servants chatter excitedly. They waved her over and she quickly chatted, giggling a little behind her hands. They exited and she hurried to my side, “the messenger has been given a remedy and awaits the Lord.”
I slipped down the steps, ignoring the little carving, “we must hurry then.”
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