Chapter 26

26

Lustina

Lustina gathered the rags off the floor, while Lady Praecepsia slept soundly in her bed. She bent over to pick up one particularly bloody rag, examining it with a frown, before placing it into the basket with the others.

As a hand slid across her mouth, she let out a startled scream into the palm.

“Follow me.”

At the sound of the baron’s voice, she blew out a relieved breath, and as he released her, she turned with a smile, to find him already walking toward the door. After a quick glance back at Lady Praecepsia, who hadn’t stirred, she set the basket on the floor, quickly shuffling after the baron. Down the corridor, she kept her eyes open for Bishop Venable, as she watched the baron turn into one of the rooms up ahead. Hastening her pace, she slipped into the room after him, and closed the door behind her.

When she turned to face the room, her eyes widened on seeing all the many mirrors stored within it. An entire room of mirrors consisting of all shapes and sizes. Confused, she turned to find more mirrors stacked along the walls.

“What is this?” She couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of an entire room dedicated to nothing more than mirrors. Her attention finally turned back to the baron, who stood in the middle of the room.

Only his profile could be seen, as the shadowed parts of the room seemed to dance around his other half, but when he turned fully, Lustina gasped at the sight of him. His lip had been split and a large plum of a bruise sat on his cheek.

“My Lord,” she whispered, dashing across the room toward him. “What happened to you?” When she reached to touch his face, he gripped her wrist midair.

His jaw shifted with anger, evident in his tight grasp. Wordless, he exhaled and released her arm, which Lustina lowered to her side. Whatever rage had claimed his face moments before softened.

“This was your punishment. Your suffering for Drystan’s accusations,” Lustina said.

He sneered at that. “This was my punishment for what I did to him in retaliation.”

An ache in her heart stole her breath as she absorbed his words. “For my punishment.”

Instead of answering, he lifted a lock of her hair, running his fingers over the strands. “As my mother’s illness progressed, she insisted all the mirrors throughout the manor be collected and stored away. She could not bear to look at herself.”

Lustina could not understand a woman who she had considered one of the most beautiful she’d ever seen thinking such a thing. “I cannot imagine what thoughts plagued her mind.”

“Nor I.” He drew his fingers down the edge of her neck, springing goosebumps. His circling to behind her gave a view of a mirror propped against the opposite wall, where Lustina caught their reflection. The baron came to a stand at her back, bringing to attention the stark difference in height. The sight of his wounds stabbed at her heart again, and she couldn’t hide the pain that claimed her face.

“Your sadness is for me?”

“Forgive me. I do not mean to make a fuss over your wounds, but the sight of them troubles me. To know you suffered such pain. More pain.”

“It is pain I would suffer a thousand times over.” In the mirror’s reflection, she watched him lean into her ear, as his palm slid over the fabric of her dress, pushing it down her shoulder. “Everything about you taunts me, Lustina. Your eyes beckon me to stare. Your scent beckons me to breathe. Your skin beckons me to touch.” His eyes flinched, the hand which had lowered her dress balled into a fist, and she felt a shuddered breath against her neck. “Do you have any idea what would happen, if I took you as I want to right now?”

The breath caught in her throat prevented her from answering the question. Of course she knew. Terrible things would happen, if someone should walk in and see her with him.

“The punishment we would suffer for such sin. I would willingly bear it to know the sound of your moans, but the thought of a whip across your spine incites a murderous rage inside of me.” His words shouldn’t have left her feeling weak with want. And the prospect of punishment should’ve compelled her to run from that room, but she couldn’t. She was too wound within his spell to walk away.

“I want to see.” Hand crossed over her body, he curled his finger into her skirt, lifting it up, inch by inch at a time, exposing her ankles, her knees. When the hem arrived at her thigh, she reached down to stop his advance.

In spite of her trembling flesh and the unrelenting desire to feel his touch, she couldn’t allow it. “Please, My Lord. I am … I cannot look at myself that way.”

Darkness swirled in his eyes, a look so exquisitely wicked and intriguing, it sent a chill across her neck. “That which you can’t bear to look at is what makes me sweat at night,” he whispered low in her ear.

Her skin prickled with his words, and when he pressed his lips to her throat, she nearly buckled in his arms. Releasing his hand, she turned her head away from the mirror and felt the fabric slide higher. Higher. The hem grazed the upper part of her thigh, only just covering her private parts.

Another shuddered breath at her ear. “More perfect than I could endeavor to imagine.” Teeth grazed the stretched side of her throat as she kept her face turned from it. “Look at yourself, Lustina.”

“I cannot.”

A gentle hand guided her face toward the mirror, and Lustina let out a sharp exhale at the sight of exposed legs that hinted at the sacred flesh a mere hairsbreadth higher, still hidden by her skirt. She had never seen herself that way before, as the monastery did not have mirrors. Neither did the cottage where she’d lived with her mother. She had only come to know their purpose after accompanying the bishop on a few visits to the more affluent estates throughout Praecepsia.

“I should lift higher. If only for the immoral and indecent thoughts that seeing your flesh would inspire as I lay in bed tonight.” The baron’s rough voice sent a flutter to her stomach.

“Please,” she breathed, taking hold of his hand. “I beg you not to.”

“Why?”

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Lustina gasped and snapped her head toward the door.

“It is only a servant.” The baron’s voice carried a hint of annoyance, as he ran his lips over her neck.

“How do you know?”

“I just do.” His other hand reached beneath the already drawn hem of her dress, and at the whisper of touch across her thighs, she drew in a sharp breath. Arms squeezed around her as a quietly tortured sound vibrated against her neck where he gently sank his teeth. “You will meet me in the woods when you are finished assisting the bishop. Do you understand?”

She nodded, unable to take her eyes off the sight of him holding her captive against him. How wrong it should have felt, yet it didn’t. The sight thrilled her. It left her to imagine what depravities he would commit, if not for the risk of being caught.

Releasing her skirt, he tipped her head for one more kiss at her neck, where he hadn’t quite bitten her, then slid the dress back up over her shoulder. And like a shadow moving across the wall, he strode from the room.

* * *

Lustina’s muscles burned as she raced through the woods, every sip of air cut short by the laughter that swelled from her chest. Sticks caught the hem of her dress, crackling as she trampled them beneath her boots. Ahead of her stood a small cave, and she ducked inside its darkness, flattening herself to the stone wall.

She waited.

Somewhere, the baron chased after her, though she hadn’t seen him since minutes before, when she’d challenged him to a race.

When more minutes had passed, she peeked her head out of the cave, noting there was no movement in the surrounding woods. The observation brought a smile to her face. He’d never find her there.

Something black swooped overhead, and she looked up to find a bird passing over the canopy of trees. Odd, the way it seemed to hover, and for one split second, Lustina felt like a mouse in the meadow. She ducked back inside the cave, and the crackle of approaching footsteps had her slapping a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing and giving away her location.

The crackles grew louder.

She backed herself deeper into the cave.

An eerie quiet followed, and the sky through the cave’s entrance seemed to darken.

A chill ran down the back of her neck, and the urge to run from the darkness tugged at her with fierce persuasion.

Something brushed over her skin, and as she opened her mouth to scream, a hand covered her face.

“Shhhh. You’ll wake the vampire bats.” The baron lowered his hand.

“Vampire bats?” Of course she knew there were bats that lived in caves. She’d grown up in the woods, after all. Still, she didn’t particularly care to come in close contact with them, and vampire bats sounded exceptionally awful.

Taking her hand, he led her from the cave into the light.

“You never did tell me how you managed to convince the bishop to let me come this time.” Lustina ducked beneath a low hanging branch as she emerged from her hiding spot.

“My mother. I overheard her saying something to the effect of, ‘With all due respect, Your Excellency, if the girl does not accompany you the next time, consider yourself permanently uninvited to my home.’”

The comment brought a smile to Lustina’s face. She’d never known a woman, besides her own mother, to accept her so unconditionally. “Your mother is an extraordinary woman, you know.”

“And quite fearsome, as well. Heaven help the man who defies her wishes.”

Lustina chuckled at that, still trudging over the bracken, as she followed after the baron. “How did you find me in the cave? Surely, you cheated.”

With his signature devious smile, he glanced over his shoulder. “The birds.”

“The birds.” Lustina snorted a laugh at that. “You have gone mad, Lord Van Croix.”

“You have never spoken to birds before?”

“Only if I have had a bit too much to drink. Maybe a slight bit of poppy’s blood.”

“It is riveting conversation. You are missing out.”

Discourteous laughter burst out of her, affecting her step, and she stumbled after him. “I insist you show me, then.”

Another glance, and he smirked. “As you wish.” Releasing her hand, he whistled at a bird, a large black bird, which sat on a branch of a tree on the path ahead. He cleared his throat. “Pardon the intrusion. I just wondered if you could point me in the direction of the Van Croix Estate.”

Hand slapped to her mouth, Lustina couldn’t muffle her laughter.

The bird remained silent, as she expected, watching the two of them.

“You are making me look like a fool,” Jericho said.

“Perhaps he is not in the right mood.” She giggled and swallowed back the urge to laugh harder. “You have to stroke their ego a bit, you know. Let me try.” When Jericho waved her on, she sauntered up alongside him. “Oh, handsome bird, will you not grace us with your magnificent and charming conversation?”

At the bird’s silence, she bent forward on a laugh.

“Nice try, fledgling. But perhaps he does not require such exuberant stroking. Some of us males take offense to such assumptions.”

“I am no fledgling. I can assure you, I have had lots of experience stroking males.”

The smile on the baron’s face dissolved to a frown. “Are you telling me you have lain with one? Many, at that?”

“Does it surprise you?”

He rolled his shoulders back, clearly affected by her comment. “Who are these unfortunate souls that I shall now have to hunt down?”

“At the moment, only one. And well, he is very sly. And mischievous.” The descriptions seemed to stoke his irritation, as his jaw shifted and clenched. “And when he crawls into bed beside me, he almost always takes up more space than he should.”

“I demand his name.”

Sighing, Lustina pranced ahead of him, casually running her palm over a tall flowerhead. “I am afraid I cannot give it to you, seeing as I have grown quite fond of his company and would hate to see him hunted.”

He lurched toward her. “You will tell me, or I’ll be forced to take a more severe approach.” His jealousy shouldn’t have tickled her the way it did, and she wanted to smack herself for taunting him that way.

“And what would you do? String me up for a lashing? You have already said you would not raise a hand to me.”

Hands in his pockets, he strode up to her, backing her against a nearby tree with nothing more than his proximity. “There are other ways to torment a woman. Now, tell me the name of this stranger who’s trounced on what is mine.”

“What is yours?”

“You heard me correctly.”

“All right, then.” Lips pursed, she tried her best not to laugh while saying his name. “Fergus.”

When he furrowed his brow, Lustina nearly broke into laughter once again. “Fergus? And where do I find this Fergus?”

“The woods, most likely. He meanders into the meadow from time to time.”

The crease of his brow deepened. “The meadow.”

“That is where the mice are. The big fat ones, anyway.”

The tension in his shoulders eased, and he looked past her, as if finally realizing who Fergus was. “This man who sleeps with you. Would he happen to possess feline qualities?”

Feigning thoughtfulness, she nodded. “Definitely.”

“Then, you have not lain with human males.”

She tapped her chin, as if to contemplate the question. “No. I do not believe I have. My apologies, you did not specify what kind of male.”

He leaned in further until towering over her. “You are enough to drive me mad, you know that?”

“Oh, yes.” Smiling up at him, she rested her hand against his chest. “I endeavor to drive you mad, in fact. Madness is far more colorful than the blandness of normalcy.”

“Indeed.” Slanting his lips over hers, he attempted a kiss, but, at the caw of the bird, stopped short. The animal made a strange clicking sound, and all at once, Lustina could hear a whisper on the air.

‘Someone approaches,’ it said.

Confused, she looked around, to find the forest empty of anyone except the baron, the bird, and her, of course. “Who said that?” No sooner did she ask than the whisper came again, and she tracked its sound back to the bird. “Oh! Was it him?”

“Yes. My feathered friend knows how to ruin a moment most effectively.”

“I heard him! How strange!” Caught between astonishment and disbelief, Lustina giggled. “I want to hear it again.”

“My Lord.” A completely different voice arrived that time, and Lustina craned her neck back toward one of the Van Croix servants that she recognized. The downtrodden look on his face left her stomach churning with dread. “It is your mother …”

Jericho stepped away from her. “What is it?”

“Please.” The servant cast his gaze away. “Come immediately.”