Chapter three
Elizabeth didn't go down for dinner that night, instead choosing the send down a maid that claimed she had taken ill. The day after was spent cloistered away in the library, the events of yesterday granting her a newfound appreciation of the quiet nature of darkness. No one disturbed her, not even her betrothed and she took company instead in a huge pile of books she had stacked beside her on the table.
Preparing for dinner was an awkward affair, made even more so by choice of the girl Ramsay sends up to assist her. Elizabeth recognises her right away as the girl she had spotted him with outside the kennels.
She barely pauses after she knocks, striding in with a boldness that surprised her. Even dressed in simple garb with her brown hair left plain and down, she looked more confident than Elizabeth certainly felt in that moment.
"Sorry for disturbing you," the girl said, in a way that managed to say she was anything but sorry. "Lord Bolton has sent me to assist you in any way you need for tonight." She smiles then, a wide smile that displays her teeth. It would be pleasant if it weren't for the unmistakable hatred in her eyes. It surprised Elizabeth, but only for a moment.
"What's your name?" She asks blandly, refusing to be intimidated. The girl meets her gaze steadily.
"Myranda my lady."
Elizabeth didn't know whether to laugh or get angry, not at Myranda, but at Ramsay's sheer nerve in sending her here. It was an outrageous yet calculated move, one that she was sure added to challenge he had dealt her. No doubt he expected her to remain silent, to be too dainty and polite to mention such things. As Elizabeth sends the girl off to prepare her a bath, she worries that he may be right.
When the bath is finally ready and Elizabeth submerges herself into the water, she gives a sigh of relief that Myranda's resentment didn't spur her on to fill the tub with cold water.
"What a pretty little thing you are," Myranda said, smiling nicely as she started to brush Elizabeth's hair.
"Thank you."
Her smile grew wider. "The others were pretty too though."
Elizabeth arches round to look at her, spilling the water slightly. "The others?"
"The other women Ramsay has lavished his attentions on"-
Elizabeth really did laugh then, the girl's intention far too obvious and misplaced. Confused, Myranda let the long hair fall and sat back uneasily. "Myranda," Elizabeth began gaily. "Your jealousy is unneeded here."
"Jealousy?" She did her best to look innocently surprised.
"Yes jealousy. I saw you with Ramsay yesterday and have already surmised the extent of your relationship - a relationship which is no business of mine."
Myranda really was perplexed now, narrowing her eyes on Elizabeth's face as if looking for any sign that she were lying. The young woman stared innocently back, a smile that looked genuine on her face.
"Are you going to send me away from the castle?" She asked, a sneer in her voice instead of the worry Elizabeth had been expecting. "Because I can tell you now Ramsay won't allow it."
"Why would I ask you to leave? I don't want Ramsay or his affections so you are more than welcome to them," she replied, picturing his cold eyes and empty smirk. She had already decided the charm he had shown earlier was nothing but an act. "I want you to keep going about as you did before I was here, so you can drop that concerned act with me. There doesn't need to be bitterness between us when there's enough misery in this castle as it is."
As Elizabeth went back to enjoying the water, Myranda had decided she had sorely misjudged the situation, had misjudged Ramsay's bride. Still, this new information started a kernel of pleasure in her stomach. She didn't want Ramsay. She didn't try to hide her smile as she imagined his face when she told him, hoping that he'd be angry.
She was so deep in her imaginings that she almost missed Elizabeth dismissing her. "Are you sure?" She asked. "I haven't helped you prepare" -
"I can prepare myself," Elizabeth says with a smile. "I thank you though and I hope we have come to an understanding."
Before the lady can change her mind, Myranda hurries from the room as fast as her feet can carry her.
Elizabeth gave a huge sigh of relief when the door closed behind her, sinking even further into the water. She had taken up Ramsay's challenge and had dealt with it, no matter how awkward it was.
Soaking her hair in the water she tried to make sense of exactly why she sent the girl away. It wasn't her intention and when the dismissal sprang from her mouth, she surprised even herself. She meant every word when she told the girl to continue her relationship with Ramsay, so why then did her presence bother her so? She settled on the notion that it was the cruel twist to Myranda's mouth that made her so dislikable and promptly forced the matter from her mind. She had much more important things to think about.
Elizabeth was going to miss her family desperately, her sister especially despite all the things she had said to Ramsay earlier. Anna was annoyingly perfect, but she was sweet, so sweet in fact that it was impossible to feel anything but affection towards her.
Behind her the door opens and closes softly, but she hears it. "What are you doing back here?" Elizabeth asks, not bothering to turn around. "I told you I don't need any assistance tonight."
She stops as hands lift her heavy hair up delicately, before one runs along her shoulder. It's too big and too calloused to be any maid. Before she can turn round, a voice, soft and intimately close to her ear speaks.
"I warned you once I enjoyed inappropriate meetings."
She knows who it is immediately, her heart thudding so hard she worried he could hear it. "What are you doing hear Ramsay?" When she turns, his eyes bore into hers, not delving below despite the skin currently on show that she tries her hardest to cover. "Please leave this is more than inappropriate!"
He laughs, sinking down to her level. "We are to be married," he says, his blue eyes alight. "I'm not the first man to sneak into their lady's chambers and I'm certainly not the last. Besides, you didn't strike me as a girl who cared much about propriety."
His eyes certainly did roam than, taking in everything she hadn't been able to cover, with a smirk. Elizabeth sank deeper into the water, thankful that the suds concealed most of her.
"Get out," she says, more strongly this time.
"No need to get angry, I'm just here to talk, I promise I'll behave myself...if you do." A flash of a smile, his hand resting beside her arm.
"Could it not wait until I'm clothed?" She asks dryly, too angry to be fearful. He doesn't say anything and she can tell he is not about to be deterred. "Very well. I suppose it's too much to hope that you're going to apologise for sending in that girl earlier."
He raised a brow at the edge to her voice. "I didn't think I had anything to apologise for. After all Myranda confided in me that you were far from upset - relieved is how she put it actually. You certainly don't seem relieved to me." Another smirk, this one far too personal for her liking.
"I am relieved. Grateful even that your attentions are diverted"- she breaks off when he moves close behind her, his hand delving back into her hair before travelling slowly across the top of her shoulders. She wants to pull away in outrage and yet at the same time, his touch travels through her in a way that is only pleasant. Disturbed by the sensation and her reaction to it, she goes to move away, but his other hand stops her.
"Do my attentions seem diverted now?" His lips are against her ear, his voice low and wicked sounding as his hand continued to explore, his fingers trailing over her collarbone.
Elizabeth's heart is beating fast with fear, fear and something she doesn't want to name. When his hand threatens to dip lower, she catches it in her hand. "I'll scream," she says, turning her wide imploring eyes to his.
He smiles again, eyes holding hers. "I certainly hope so." Before she can react, he kisses her, his grip too tight to pull away from. It's not long before she doesn't want to.
Elizabeth had been kissed before, but definitely not like this. Those were innocent kisses that gave sweetness and wanted nothing in return. Ramsay's kiss was anything but innocent; while he gave he also took, refusing to accept her as anything but a willing participant. It was the kind of kiss that Elizabeth later supposed her mother would deem unfit for unmarried, well bred ladies.
By the time he moved his lips to her neck, teeth grazing in a way that gave her shivers, she was clinging to him. Her modesty was forgotten, her breasts pressed against his front, and when her arms went to pull him closer of their own accord, she faintly heard him laugh. It wasn't a nice sound but before her senses fully returned, his lips recaptured hers, his tongue demanding her full attention.
Pain, sudden and sharp makes her pull back. When she raises her fingers to her lips they come away with blood.
"That was your first lesson," he says, his eyes and voice holding her. "Don't lie to Myranda and don't lie to yourself. Your unwillingness as a bride doesn't quite ring true when you're throwing yourself at me."
The palm of her hand connecting with his cheek makes an awful sound and for one awful second, she thinks he's going to strike her back.
Staring at his clenched jaw she suddenly wishes she could take it back, all passion forgotten now. But she doesn't stammer out an apology like her fear tells her to. No, Elizabeth stands her ground, trying to look as dignified as possible while covering her body.
She falters slightly when he stands to his full heights and she notices once more how surprisingly broad shouldered he is. She flinches when he leans forward, but all he does is laugh and place a chaste kiss atop her forehead.
"I'll see you at dinner tonight," he says. "If you're not there I'll assume you want to continue what we started and come finish you off." She blanches at his crude words, but before she even thinks of a retort, he's gone.
Speechless, Elizabeth is left staring at the closed door, not knowing what to do or think. When she wets her lips, she tastes blood. Shame is the first thing to pierce through the fog, so complete that it almost chokes her. He had said she threw herself at him, and she can't even say he was lying.
Feeling dirty, she scrambles from the tub and dons a robe, trying desperately to get warm. With shaking hands she wonders if she would have stopped him if had tried to take it further. Would she have shamed herself and her family?
Elizabeth was not unfamiliar with what happens to women who court such shame. Her own cousin was such a woman. She had been courted by a man neither one of her parents approved of. Scared that she would do something stupid, they finalised her betrothal to another man, expecting her to distance herself immediately from her beau. She didn't, and all it took were some pretty gifts and even prettier words and her cousin gave him everything. Apparently her body was all he wanted as afterwards he packed and left, leaving her and her parents to deal with the shame. Needless to say, her betrothed cried away when he heard the news, as did all her friends.
Ramsay hadn't even needed nice words to get her where he wanted, she thought with despair. All it took were seconds and she was his to do with as he pleased, seconds of calculated moves.
The more she thought on it, the more shame began to make way for anger. She remembered his words telling her it was her first lesson in that patronising voice. A lesson as if she were a child. He wanted her to feel shame, and that was almost enough to make her stop feeling it.
Elizabeth didn't dare take her time in preparing for dinner, terrified that he would take her up on his offer and even more scared that he would think she wants him to. Dressed in a gown of deep green, she all but runs down the stairs, her shoes clattering atop the stone floors.
"In a hurry my lady?" It's Lord Roose, making his own way to the hall looking surprisingly tired and tense. On his arm was his wife Walda, who greeted Elizabeth with a warmth that seemed genuine.
"It's good to see you again Elizabeth," she smiles. "I trust you're feeling better?"
"Much better thank you," she replies, falling into step beside them.
"And how are you settling in?"
The question brings to mind Ramsay's cruel eyes. "Very well."
"And I trust things are going well between you and Ramsay?"
Elizabeth and Roose both laughed at that at the same time. Still, politeness forced a response. "Yes he's been very"- she breaks off for the right word, kind seeming ridiculous under the circumstances. "Been very friendly!" She finishes lamely, before blushing deeply.
Friendly. He wasn't friendly when his hands wondered along her body and his lips explored hers. There must have been something on her face because Walda laughed and Roose peered at her intently.
She is saved from embarrassing herself further when they enter the hall and find Ramsay already seated and engaged in conversation with her parents. The sight was an uncomfortable one for her, praying that he kept things polite. She greets her parents first, pausing to kiss them both in the cheeks before finally turning to Ramsay.
He meets her halfway, his hand taking hers. But he doesn't kiss her hand. Instead he leans forward kisses her on the cheek and says, "I can't pretend I'm not disappointed. I'd much rather be enjoying you than food tonight." Despite her anger, his words so wrong and whispered just for her, cause pleasant shivers to skate down her spine.
By the time he pulls away her face is flaming with embarrassment and although no one else heard his inappropriate words, their faces said they had noted the surprisingly intimate exchange. Her mother looked pleased, her father less so.
Clearing her throat, Elizabeth sought to lighten the atmosphere. "It's good to see you again too my lord," she says regally, as if he hadn't been in her chambers not long ago. Trying to look poised, she lets him lead her to a seat, one right beside him. Her parents are seated opposite them, Roose at the head of the table, and Walda at his side.
By the time dinner was served conversation was flowing easily, owing in part to Ramsay being on his best behaviour. He was back to being charming, his smiles frequent and eyes free from any malicious intent. He also ignored her completely.
It bothered Elizabeth greatly that she had so much unspoken anger towards him, couldn't stop thinking about earlier and yet he could apparently dismiss her so easily. Irritated, she snuck a glance up at him, watching as he spoke animatedly.
He looked handsome tonight, even she could grudgingly admit that. Dressed entirely in black, he presented a wicked picture that suited his character.
Once again she was caught in the act of staring, his blue eyes pinning hers. They remained like that for a few seconds, both of them staring but neither one saying anything. Roose cleared his throat loudly, bringing them both back to the present.
"You two seem to be getting along," Roose says cautiously. "Elizabeth even described you as friendly earlier Ramsay. I thought maybe she had gotten you confused with someone else."
Ramsay glances from him and back to Elizabeth, his eyes suddenly alight with what Elizabeth immediately recognised as mischief.
"Friendly?" Ramsay repeats, watching her. "I suppose that's one word for it." The latter is said so intimately that even innocent Elizabeth couldn't mistake it's meaning. She knew that no one else would either.
"What other word would you use?" The question coming from her father was anything but happy, his voice matching his dark expression. Ramsay didn't look intimidated. In fact his answering smile says he's enjoying himself much more now. He leans back in his chair as if completely relaxed, boldly draping his arm along Elizabeth's shoulders.
"You can supply any word that meets your approval my lord." It was said in a mocking tone. The message was clear to everyone at the table, including Elizabeth. She didn't belong to her father anymore, she belonged exclusively to the terrifying man sat next to her.
At the subtle shake of her head, Elizabeth's father doesn't rise to meet the challenge. Instead he settles back in his own chair and with a grumble, reaches for his drink.
As everything falls back to normal, Elizabeth pushes away her untouched plate of food and considers excusing herself from the table. Perhaps she could say her illness has returned. She was about to announce it when Ramsay's hand settled on her knee. She didn't dare try and shake him off, for fear of drawing even more attention to them.
"You didn't strike me for a coward," Ramsay says casually, his thumb beginning to trace small circles on her leg.
"What?"
He looked round to meet her gaze. "If you leave now, I'll take that as an invitation to join you." His voice was low and around them conversation continued as normal. His hand moved slightly higher up her leg, the heat scorching her through her dress. "Although perhaps that's what you want."
Just for a second, a part of her wanted to say yes, wanted to take him up on his offer that his smile promised. What would it be like? A variety of gossiping friends back home, many of them not of the nobility, Elizabeth knew far more about the marriage bed than she knew she ought to. Looking up at him, she knew without a doubt that he would be wild and rough - the type that, according to many of her friends, guaranteed a good time.
Something on her face clearly showed, because the smirk on his was replaced by a flicker of surprise. It didn't last long before it turned to delight. "Is that indecision I sense?" She didn't answer but the blush was telling enough. He leant even closer, his voice even lower. "If you leave, go straight up to your chambers and I'll be there shortly."
"I can't," her voice sounded horrible panicked even to her. With an indelicate shove she pushes him away, but his hand remains. She's back to feeling shame and guilt. She doesn't even like Ramsay and yet she really considered - no she couldn't even think about it. She wouldn't let herself.
Silently, Ramsay watches all her feelings play on her face, her expression absurdly easy to read. He sensed her conflicting emotions, saw her guilt for feeling them and it only made him want her more. How much shame could he fill her with? Even more exciting was the possibility of taking it from her completely, of ruining all those years of gentle rearing and noble virtue. This was turning out to be much more fun than he originally thought.
He removes his hand from her leg, but leans close. "If you change your mind, just come find me and I'd be happy to show you what you've been missing." Her outraged gasp makes him smile, even more than the daggers he was getting from his soon to be in-laws.
Studying Elizabeth's prim little profile, he realised just how much he was looking forward to dirtying it.