Chapter 9

Rays of light pierced through his eyelids, bright enough to register despite his foggy mind. Blinking, it took William a couple minutes before he realized where he was. He groaned, and with flailing arms, he somehow managed to haul himself into a sitting position. Gasping, he hunched over his legs, his head pounding.

Lucia's side of the bed was already empty. The dimple on the pillow case was the only indication that she had ever been there. A quick scan of the room found no trace of her either, but William saw what looked promisingly like breakfast. Not ready to rejoin the living yet, he flopped back onto the mattress. William sighed and tucked his hands beneath his head as he stared up at the canopy. He had got himself a bride as skittish as a newborn colt, and it looked like there was nothing to be done about it at the moment. He must coax her as he would a colt.

In the practicality of morning, William experienced a sobering moment of truth--wedding remorse. He had just married a woman who carried his dead brother's child. He would never be able to touch her without being reminded that Henry had had her first. He would have to raise his brother's child knowing he would never have any legitimate ones of his own with his "wife." He had just sentenced himself to a lifetime of loneliness, not to mention celibacy. He might as well have become a priest.

"Gods, what have I gotten myself into?" he groaned.

Patience, he reminded himself. He refused to admit defeat before he even started. Usually.

With heroic measures of a man suffering from wine sickness, he pulled himself out of bed. A soft robe had been prepared for him, laid out neatly across the back of a chair. He slipped one arm into it while walking to the table to investigate the contents of the trays. His stomach turned unpleasantly at the smell of sweet pastries, but he eyed the silver coffeepot hopefully. Like a drowning man, he reached out and poured himself a generous cup. It was still warm.

When he downed his required dose of coffee, he noticed a note on the table. In a flowing handwriting, Lucia apologized for her absence and wrote that she was working on the final preparations for their move to Ravenshire in a few days. If William needed her, she could be found in her drawing room. William nibbled the buttered roll, laying the note aside. It hadn't occurred to him that they would be leaving soon for his home. They would stay the customary three days to ready the bride for the final separation from her family, but while she was packing, there was little for him to do.

He supposed that he could take the time to explore Lyonsyl a little on his own, to familiarize himself with this part of the country. It would also be a good excuse to avoid his father going on and on about his duties as the Ravenshire heir. He just didn't think his head was up for the challenge.

With the plan in mind, he made the preparation for a day out.

He jogged down the flights of stairs, whistling. Luckily for him, the entire household was in too much of an uproar to pay attention to him. Still, he thought it best that he returned the favor and dropped in to check on Lucia since she had been nice enough to leave him a note on her whereabouts. Recalling the directions, he found his way to her drawing room.

Canvases were propped against every vertical wall, as far as he can see. Women bustled like ants, some pushing past him as he stood, stunned, by the doorway. Lucia sat in the middle of the trafficking people, serene as an island in a stream. She was looking at a canvas in her hand, murmuring something to the girl next to her. As William looked on, the girl took the painting and set it in a preexisting pile.

Just then, Lucia looked up and smiled. "Good morning," she said as cheerily as she could manage shouting over the noise. "How are you feeling?"

He tapped his temple. "Got a poor head this morning. Too much to drink, I'm afraid."

She snorted, her gaze already dropping to the next painting she picked up. "That's what I told you last night."

William shrugged. "I'll live. What's all the commotion?"

Lucia laid the painting down. Shoving some more canvases off the settee, she offered him a space. "Just going through my old paintings. I need to sort through them to see which ones I should take with me." She laughed. "I just didn't realize how many of them there were. I had the servants take all of the paintings down from the attic."

William sat down and picked up the canvas closest to him at random. It was a still life of sunflowers spilling across the table. He didn't know much about art, but even to his untrained eyes, it looked like a fine painting.

"What about this one?" he asked her.

She peered at it for a second before shaking her head. "No, it's not good. The proportion is wrong, and the strokes were sloppily executed."

Unsure of where to put the rejected paintings, William put it back where he found it. He rubbed the palms of his hands against the coarse fabric of his riding breeches. "I thought you never hang up your paintings," he said. "Why bring them if you're not going to display them?"

Lucia looked up. "Well, the paintings help me see my progress."

"Ah, I suppose." William stood up. "Well, it seems like I can't give you much help here. If you don't mind, I would like to ride out today to explore Lyonsyl on my own."

Lucia nodded. She stood up as well and gave him a little peck on the cheek. "If you would like, you can take one of the servants with you as a guide."

William shook his head. "There's no need. I can find my way well enough."

She shrugged. Seeing him to the door, she waved a little before disappearing back into the house.

It was a terrible day for Lucia. After sorting out hundreds of canvases she had accumulated unknowingly throughout the years, she proceeded to oversee the packing of her possessions. Entering her room, she passed some footmen heaving large chests out under Maria's ever vigilant eye.

"Come right back here after you've loaded those chests," Maria directed.

She shook out the petticoat she had in her hands, folding it deftly before laying it down beside the preexisting pile of petticoats on the bed. Lucia saw her gowns on the bed as well, their colors clashing against each other. A maid was gathering the bottles of scent, hair accessories, and various combs she had on her dressing table.

Stepping out of the way of a heaving footman, Lucia walked to the mirror that Adrian had given her for her birthday. She touched the cool surface, staring at her reflection.

"Maria, please let them know that I would like to bring this mirror with me," she said.

The older woman scowled. "These things are difficult to transport. Might it be better for you to leave it here?"

"No," Lucia said firmly. "Tell them to pack it carefully. I want this mirror in Ravenshire."

"As you wish, Mistress."

Deciding that Maria was more than adequate overseeing the packing of her wardrobe, Lucia went to the library.

She wasn't surprised to see Adrian there in his favorite armchair. Looking up for the clicking of the latch, he nodded at her presence.

"Hello, Adrian," she said softly.

"Hello, Lucia."

She crossed the room, deciding to perch on the arm rest of the chair the way she used to. Laying a hand on his shoulder, she sought comfort from his presence.

"I thought you were packing," Adrian said, closing the book he was pretending to read.

"I wanted to see if you would spare me some of my favorite books," she replied.

Baring his teeth in a grimace, Adrian smirked, "Not a chance. Doesn't your husband have books in his library, or is he too barbaricto read?"

Lucia stuck out a tongue. "I wouldn't know," she said haughtily. She stood up, scanning the shelves even though she knew exactly where her favorites were. Picking up one of the serial novels, she smacked Adrian's head with it.

"Besides," she said, "It's not like anyone else in this household can appreciate the wonders of Mrs. Feldman's work. You wouldn't even miss it."

"You're right. You're absolutely right." Adrian sighed, leaning back into the comfort of his chair. "No one in their right mind would miss the garbage that is Mrs. Feldman's novel," he told her.

"You're just jealous that as a man, you can't enjoy them for the works of art they are," she laughed. Scooping the books up, she set them on the writing desk.

"There is that."

Adrian stood up. Walking to his sister, he asked, "How do you fare, Lucia?"

She looked at him and gave him a wistful smile. "Don't worry about me, Adrian. William is a very gentle man, despite his training as a soldier."

"But are you happy?"

She shrugged. "As happy as I could be under the circumstance." Turning to Adrian, she gazed at him steadily. "At the very least, he's a man I can learn to respect, and maybe even love."

"You shouldn't have to learn to love your husband."

"I know my duty," she said simply. "Unlike you, I've never had romantic delusions about marriage."

Adrian sighed, then raked a hand through his hair. "I suppose you know what's best for you." His face softened. "As your brother, I can't help but be overly protective where you are concerned."

"I know, Adrian. I know."

"So," he said and cleared his throat. He swung an arm around his sister's shoulder. "I seem to have some time on my hand today. How can I be of help to you today?"

Lucia winked. "Do you think Father would give me that beautiful volume of Illustrated Flora and Fauna of Mohana Mountains as a wedding gift?"

Adrian laughed. "I doubt it, but we'll ask anyway."

It seemed to Lucia that three days passed all too soon. Before she knew it, she was standing at the steps of her home, bidding farewell to everyone. She hugged Maria, with whom she had already had a teary farewell the night before. Maria had grunted about how ridiculous it was that Lucia had to be deprived of any familiarity whatsoever, then proceeded to burst into tears. Even now, Lucia could see tears swimming in her eyes, and she quickly moved on.

Her father pulled her into his arms and gave her a small peck on the cheek. "Take care of yourself now," he said gruffly.

She nodded. "I will, Father."

Next came Adrian, who was standing sullenly to the side, his hands in his pockets. He had been snarling at anyone who dared talk to him all yesterday. A lump lodged firmly in Lucia's throat. She and her brother had always been close. Though she had braced herself for this very moment ever since she understood the meaning of marriage, she never expected it to feel like a hollow was carved into her heart.

"Hey," Adrian said, leaning in so that she was the only one who could hear him. "If that William bloke isn't treating you well, you tell me. I'll beat him into a bloody pulp."

Lucia sent him a scornful look. "I am quite capable of handling him, thank you very much. Without the messy business of shedding blood."

"Well, he is your husband, after all," Adrian sighed. He clasped her on the shoulder. "Best of luck, sister dearest."

William helped her onto the carriage. Since the elderly Lord Ravenshire had opted to leave right after the wedding, it was just the two of them. As the footman closed the door, Lucia gave her family one more wave. The carriage lurched, and they were on their way.

Since William made no move to close the curtains, Lucia leaned against the window, propping her cheek on the back of her hand. Her eyes were fixed as everything familiar disappeared beneath the horizon, one by one. She expected the tears to come, but she was so numb that she felt no emotions. Finally, exhausted by the activities in the last few days, she fell asleep.

William watched as her breathing grew slow and even. Her skin looked paler than normal in the fragile morning light. The bluish smudges underneath her eyes marked the sleepless nights she had spent tossing and turning beside him. Taking pity on her supporting hand, he moved beside her and gently adjusted her position so that she leaned against him. He tightened his arm around her to minimize the jolts as the carriage clattered over the uneven road.

She seemed smaller in sleep. With her wary eyes closed, she looked as innocent as a small kitten, and just as cuddly. He tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear and brushed his knuckles across her soft cheek. She wrinkled her nose and mumbled something in her sleep.

He looked out the window at the majestic cliffs that graced the shores of Lyonsyle. On his other side stretched an idyllic scene, where herds of round sheep basked in the veiled sunlight. Even from a distance, William could see energetic dogs snipping at the heels of the furry animals. Lyonsyle was well-off, but it would thrive with the new trade agreement formed as part of the wedding contract. His estate may encounter hard times in the coming years, but he had no doubt that it would recover one day and prosper like it had in the past.

His stomach contracted as he contemplated all the things he still needed to learn as the heir of Ravenshire. There wasn't much time, as his father must return to Pelicana in a few weeks for the beginning of the Council. The elder Ravenshire had expressed hope that William would be able to learn from his trustworthy steward and Lucia the art of governing an estate before he joined him in the capitol in a few months.

The only positive prospect about his impending absence was the issue of sleeping arrangement. At the very least, he wouldn't have to share a bed with Lucia during his time in Pelicana. Of course, he would most likely encounter her brother at every turn, but after weighing his options, he considered it a step up from having to sleep next to a beautiful woman he had promised not to touch. For the past few days, Lucia had collapsed from exhaustion as soon as she curled up in the bed. It would not be so for the next month they were required to bed together. He wondered how in the world he would cope.

He brooded darkly as the carriage pushed on.

The nightmare crept up on her, like it always did. Before she knew it, she was caught in the sticky fingers of fear. The sinister chuckle, the sweaty hands that pinned her to the mattress as the unseen face rubbed against hers. She cried out, but no sound came. She pushed against the bulky weight of the man, her heart knocking against her ribs. All she could think of was that this time, he was sure going to rip her like a rag doll. Pain pierced through her core, and she screamed and screamed but no one could hear her. She sobbed, begging for him to stop. He just laughed and pushed deeper into her. She gasped...

And jerked out of her nightmare. Someone was speaking to her, but she couldn't understand the words. She moaned and pushed against the strange hands that held her. But it was William's face that swam in front of her.

"Lucia, wake up," he said urgently. "It's only a nightmare, nothing to worry about."

Without warning, tears began to course down her face and she began to sob. William gathered her into his arms and rubbed her arms hard to dispel the shivers that racked her body. He made soothing, nonsensical noises, hoping to ease her crying.

As soon as he could spare an arm, he tapped the roof of the coach with his cane. "Driver, stop at the first inn in sight," he demanded. "Lady Ravenshire is unwell."

"But my Lord, I was instructed to stop at the Wild Boar come nightfall," the man protested.

"To hell with your schedule. Did you not hear me say the lady is unwell?" William shouted.

Lucia raised her face from his coat. She grasped the lapels to get his attention and whispered, "William, it's nothing. I'm not so ill that we can't proceed according to plan."

"Don't be a fool," he snapped. "What happened just now was no ordinary nightmare." Lowering his voice, he said, "Listen, we have time enough for a few days of excursion. You look pale, and it's a bad time to grow ill. Please, don't be contrary."

She swallowed and said nothing. Letting her go, William knelt down the floor of the coach and grasped a compartment underneath their seat. A bottle of brandy sloshed within its glassy confine. William took it out and removed the stopper. He handed the bottle to Lucia, indicating she should drink from it.

Obediently, she took a swig. Her eyes watered immediately, and she swallowed a half-cough. Wrinkling her nose, she choked, "That was awful."