To: Guest S
I am getting your wonderful reviews and enjoying them but THIS is the only way I can respond to you. Thanks for enjoying the story and I hope to keep hearing from you. Be assured I am reading your reviews and loving them. THANKS!
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Guest Reviews:
Guest #1: Amir IS awesome, hu! And yes, we will see Clair again.
Barefootballerin: I am so glad you are keeping the faith that Amir will make it up the stairs. Let's see if your faith paid off...
Melstrife: you get HALF your wish...and look...Sunday has ARRIVED!
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Also, I forgot in my last post to congratulate Firelily18 for being my 100th reviewer! We are getting VERY close to 200...who will send in THAT review? You?
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Ok, now let's go see if we can find the answer to your burning question..."Will Amir make it up those pesky stairs...alive?" I know it has been eating away at you all for days! As well as the less important question of "will Erik and Christine consummate the marriage?" Read on and find out...
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Chapter 7
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The room was a bit dark, with only a few oil lamps burning as well as a crackling fire in the hearth. Erik's eyes scanned the area until it settled on the vision he sought… Christine, his wife. She was sitting on the far side of the bed, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. When she saw him glance her way she stood up, her hands laced in front of her as she stared back at him. She looked beautiful, the firelight casting golden shadows through her hair and across the pristine night-robe she wore. He had personally picked that one out from among the trousseau that had been ordered along with the dresses that morning. When he had spied it, he knew he wanted nothing more than to see her in such seductive attire. Now here she was. Yet, he could instantly tell that something was not right, that his wife was more than nervous…she was shaking like a leaf! Clearing his dry throat, he began his attempts to put her mind at ease.
"Come here," he instructed, his words perhaps a bit commanding but his tone he kept low and gentle. He watched her hesitate for a moment and then her chin came up and she slowly approached, never taking her eyes off of his. When she stood directly in front of him, he reached out and ran his hand down the strands of her loose hair, lifting a few stray curls off her shoulder and letting them fall down her back with the rest. "You look…lovely," he told her, his voice hardly above a whisper.
Christine blushed and looked away, causing him to reach out and tip her chin up, turning her face back to him.
"Tell me, what has you so concerned," he requested, having a good idea what her answer would be, yet, he wanted to hear it voiced, for fear that he may have jumped to the wrong conclusions.
"I…I was just not expecting…I mean I thought you had said that you and I would…" Christine had done her best to sound sure and confident, but her false bravado was fading fast.
"Would be married in name only?" he finished for her, watching as she turned pink with a modest blush and nodded slowly. Erik gave a heavy sigh and reached out to take her hand, leading her over to the plush sofa by the fireplace. Directing her to sit down, he reached up and removed his constricting cravat, as well as his jacket, before he undid the top few buttons on his shirt, making himself a bit more comfortable. However, his comfort seemed to come at the expense of hers and she averted her eyes as even a minute amount of his skin came into view. This was going to prove harder than he thought. "Christine, I am going to ask you something and I need you to be perfectly honest with me. I do not want you to lie to me or avoid answering in order to spare my feelings, understand?"
Christine felt a wave of anxiety flow through her but she nodded in agreement.
"It is no secret that my father has manipulated us both in order to get what he wants and I am well aware that he spoke to you about his demands last night in great detail. I can also imagine that this was the subject of your private discussion on the balcony tonight, though from what I observed it appeared to be more of a threat then a conversation." He shook his head sadly and ran his fingers through his hair before he continued. "I will make no excuses for him. He is the devil himself and has been that way for as long as I can remember. But I want you to know, that no matter what he said to you, I swear I will not let his threats come to pass. You are my wife now and I protect what is mine. You have nothing to fear from him, or your uncle, Christine. So please, tell me truthfully, what has you so frightened? What is it your uncle holds over your head that would make you so compliant to his wishes?"
Christine's mouth dropped open but no words came out. Dare she tell him? Could she even say such words out loud? It was both frightening and embarrassing and if she gave voice to them, it would make them real, thus more likely to come true. Yet from what she saw in his eyes, Erik was telling the truth and she trusted him to keep his word. So swallowing her deepest fears, she spoke.
"When…when my parents died, I was placed under the guardianship of my Uncle Max," she began, her hands clenching and unclenching in the fabric of her silk robe. "He paid for my tuition at the abbey, but I always knew he had no love for me, seeing me as nothing more than his obligation. When he came to fetch me yesterday, telling me that I had been promised in marriage, he made no secret of the fact that it was for his monetary gain alone that the wedding would take place."
"Yes, I am sure my father promised him a substantial reward for your compliance in this matter." Erik nodded, understanding the financial aspect of many of his father's underhanded deals. "Is this why you did it…to please him?"
"No! I would rather spit in his eye than do anything to please my uncle," Christine assured him, her tone revealing her level of hate for the man.
Erik found he could not help but smile at her spirit, glad that she was not some dutiful starry-eyed girl willing to obey whatever her elders demanded of her.
"Then was life at the abbey so terrible that you saw marriage as your only means of escape?" Erik persisted.
"The abbey was dull and I knew I would never be persuaded to take vows myself and remain there, but it was not unbearable," she admitted.
"Why then? What would cause you to agree to such an arrangement?" Erik felt bad about being so inquisitive when it was evident that she did not wish to divulge her secrets, but he had to know. "You must tell me, Christine. I cannot protect you from danger if I do not know from what direction it is coming." Once more he reached out, this time running his fingers down the side of her soft cheek. "Please, my beauty, confide in me."
Christine could hold back no longer, her pent up fear and anxiety bubbling over in the form of words and tears.
"My…my uncle…he said if I did not do as he wished, he would…would sell me to a brothel to become…a whore!" With the uttering of her last humiliating word, Christine's composure dissolved into tears and she buried her face in her hands in shame, missing the burning hate that flashed up in Erik's eyes.
"He would do this to his own niece?!" Erik roared, causing her to flinch at his tone. "That bastard!" He looked at her for a moment more, trying to fight down his anger. "Is that what my father threatened as well?"
"He…he said that if I did not give him a grandchild within the year…he would see that my uncle's threat was carried out," she confessed, her voice taking on a desperate manner as her breathing sped up until she was quickly becoming hysterical. Suddenly, without thinking, she reached out and grabbed hold of Erik's lapels, pulling him in closer to her in a frantic manner. "I can't do it, Erik…I won't lower myself in that manner…I won't be turned into a prostitute!" And because in her now panic-stricken mind, the only way she saw out of that fate was to comply with their wishes, she leaned in and brought her lips up to meet with his in an attempt to initiate the act that would provide her salvation. Christine was petrified, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Erik knew that his bride was overwrought, that she was only kissing him out of fear and anxiety. Yet when he felt her warm lips on his, everything else seemed to fade away. He brought his hand up and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him as his other hand began to slide up her cheek. Erik deepened the kiss, doing all he could to ease her fears by giving of himself in a way that would be mutually beneficial. It has been so long since he had felt this way and it was beginning to consume him in the fires of want.
Christine had shocked herself by her actions but now, as she felt his tongue slide across her lips, beckoning her to give him access, she once more sensed that overwhelming need begin to overtake her. It ignited in her stomach and spread outward until it caused every fiber of her being to resonate with a tingling sensation. Her hands unclenched from his jacket and began to slide upward and across his broad shoulders. Somehow this man was capable of quieting her fears and maidenly hesitations, leaving in its wake an overwhelming need. If this is what it took to secure her future, then so be it…Christine was through fighting.
"Christine," Erik moaned as he broke contact with her lips and began to trail hot kisses down her throat. "Tell me to stop now if you wish it…I cannot be held accountable for what will take place if you do not," he warned, never allowing himself to be more than a breath away from her soft skin.
"No…" was all she could say, her mind still at war with her own body. "I am your wife. I…freely offer myself to you."
"Yes, you belong to me," he stated, pulling back as he looked into her eyes. "No one will ever touch what is mine! Not your uncle, not my father and certainly no vile man in a seedy brothel! But I do not want you to do this out of desperation or fear for your future. I will never let them harm you, I can keep you safe…do you believe me?"
Christine hesitated only for a moment; for as she looked at the man whom she had taken vows with that very afternoon, she could tell that he not only had the desire to protect her - but possessed the means to do so as well. He was her knight, her hero…her husband.
"Yes…I believe you," she nodded, still a bit breathless.
Erik could see that she spoke the truth, and it gave him a surge of pride to know he possessed her trust in this matter at least. There were still so many secrets that lay between them, but those could be dealt with later. Now, he needed to touch and feel her, to explore every inch of her body and commit it to memory. Without breaking eye contact he pulled on the satin ribbon that held her delicate robe together, watching as it parted and gave him access to what lay beneath it. With skilled hands, shaking from years of denial, he began to slide the garment off her shoulders and down her arms.
"Don't be afraid Christine," he whispered, still seeing that dreaded emotion hovering there in her eyes, her tears building as she fought to keep them in.
"I…I don't know what to do," she confessed.
"You just said you believed me, now I ask you to trust me as well, can you do that?" he almost begged, the pain he felt in his chest over her fears was almost as great as his need for her.
"I will…try," she assured him, wishing she felt as confident as she was trying to appear. "Sister Margret said…that a good wife should obey her husband in all matters."
At her words Erik pulled back, his brows beneath his mask knitting together in concern. He was about to speak when his eyes fell upon her arm as the robe slipped down and he was instantly brought up short. As he stared at the dark purple finger marks, the concern in his eyes was replaced with a frenzied madness.
"Where did you get those?!" he growled, but then he stiffened up as he gasped out his next words, it causing him physical pain to ask. "Did…did I do that when I grabbed hold of you today?" His hand reached out, visibly shaking as his fingers hovered over the purple bruises that had been revealed. He quickly pulled back, looking at it with an almost hate-filled stare. Had his blood-stained hands caused damage again? Had he once more brought harm to an innocent lady with his lack of self-control?
"No!" Christine was swift to assure him, seeing the almost frantic look in his eyes over the sight of her injury. "No, Erik, it was my uncle. He is the one who caused these…not you."
Erik searched her eyes, desperately probing for the truth, and when he found no deception in her words, he let out a sigh that spoke volumes. It would have driven him mad had he been the cause and he had the sudden urge to lean in and kiss away each and every angry mark. Instead he stood up, walking a few feet away as he tried to calm his rage. He was unsuccessful and the contents of a small end-table became the hapless victim of his all-consuming fury, swept to the floor in a disastrous crash. The sight of the bruises brought forth far too many horrible memories for Erik and when he looked over at his new bride and saw her cringing against the arm of the settee, he felt his heart fall in his chest. He was frightening her; he had reduced his own wife to tears in his presence. He truly was a monster.
"Please…Erik," she began, holding back her panic over his outburst. "I…I didn't mean to anger you. Tell me what you want, and I will do it…I can be a good wife, I swear!"
"Stop saying that!" he roared, wishing to cover his ears as the past seemed to resonate all around him. "You owe me nothing, least of all your unquestioning loyalty or obedience!"
"But…I do," she argued, her voice still meek and frightened. "I swore today before God to honor and obey you…it is my duty."
"You also promised to love me as well, yet I can see you are finding that particular requirement impossible," he countered in an angry voice, as he began to pace back and forth in front of her. "When I look into your eyes, I see only fear and yet you would allow me to touch you, to make love to you simply because you feel obligated to do so? That is not right!"
Christine pulled back, cringing as she tried desperately to bury herself deeper into the corner of the lounge. His tone was placing her back on the verge of hysterics.
"I thought…I thought that was expected of a good wife," she cried, tears streaming down her face. "I don't understand! What do you want from me?"
Erik looked at her in shock and horror as Christine suddenly faded away and was replaced by the face of another…one with raven hair and dark eyes. He shook his head frantically to erase such images, the pain the vision caused almost leaving him doubled over in grief and shame.
"What do I want...?" he repeated, his breaths coming out in labored gasps. "I…I want you to go to bed, Christine!" he ordered, grabbing his jacket off the back of the lounge and storming to the door. "Just go to bed and forget this whole damned thing ever happened!" With the slam of the door he was gone.
Christine threw herself forward on the lounge, burying her face in the cushions as she sobbed hysterically. Everything was ruined now. Erik hated her, or at least was repulsed by her, and she had no idea why. Were the marks on her arm so repugnant that he found her ugly and not pleasing to the eye? Was her boldness in initiating the kiss a slap to his masculinity and position of authority? What had she done to earn his scorn and anger? She laid there for some time, crying until she had no more tears to shed, then slowly, almost reluctantly, she extinguished the lights in the room and crawled into bed. At the very least she could fulfill his wishes in this small matter…and soon she fell into a fitful sleep.
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Amir had finally been able to rise from the settee, his fuzzy brain making everything much more difficult than normal. When he made it to the bottom of the stairs he paused, unwilling to go up just yet for fear he might fall back down. He decided that a brisk walk outside might be just the thing to clear his mind before making a second attempt. So veering to the left, he instead headed out the back door to the gardens behind the manor.
Once outside, the crisp night air of spring did wonders to focus his thoughts and steady his steps. The crickets were chirping amid the breeze in the wind, creating an almost musical quality of the night. He took a few cleansing breaths and was about to return to the house when he spotted a lone figure sitting on a bench to his right.
"Erik?" he asked, watching as his friend raised his head from his hands to look at him.
"What are you doing out here, Amir? I told you that you could take one of the guest rooms tonight," Erik reminded him, far too distracted to further chastise his friend. "Did you get lost?"
"Did you?" Amir countered, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck thoughtfully. "Shouldn't you be upstairs…with your wife?"
"My wife?" he all but scoffed. "My frightened little captive is more like it."
"Erik…I don't understand," Amir admitted, coming to sit down next to him.
"That makes two of us, Amir," he said, once more leaning forward as he ran his hands through his hair sadly. "This is all wrong…every bit of it. A husband and wife should love one another, or at the very least trust each other before being thrown into marriage. Yet the woman up in my room does neither. She cringes and cowers before me, asking me what I want from her, swearing that she can be a good wife to me! Those words alone almost brought me to my knees but when I saw the bruises…those damned marks on her perfect skin…all I could see was…"
"Emily," Amir finished, his eyes growing sad as he lowered his head in regret. Then as Erik's words sunk in he looked up questioningly. "Bruises? You didn't…"
"NO! Never!" Erik interjected, disgust coming to his eyes. "They were the result of her uncle's biting grip, not mine." Or at least that is what she had claimed…he only prayed it was true.
"Forgive me, my friend," Amir begged, feeling guilty for his rash assumption. "I was a fool to ask."
"Yet it was not inconceivable, was it? Not after…" he could not even bring himself to voice the rest of his thought.
"Do not continue to berate yourself like this, it will not change things and it does no one any good." Amir placed his hand on Erik's shoulder and tried his best to comfort his friend.
"Yet nothing I have done since that fateful night has accomplished any good…has it?" he asked. "If I could go back in time and change things, I would. If only I had not let my temper rule my actions…if only I had shown self-control."
"You know my feelings on the matter and have for many years…I will not bore you with another rendition of them," Amir told him with a sad sigh. "Just know that the past is just that…the past. You need to let it go and look to the future for once, because that is what Christine can be for you…your future. I spoke with her tonight and she is a rare and amazing woman, you would do well to try and open up to her. You both have been thrown together in the most awkward manner and yet, you have a chance to emerge stronger and wiser for it. It would appear that you fear displeasing her just as much as she does you. Talk to her…show her that you want her trust, not simply her obedience or fear. If, in time, you can gain that, you might just, in turn, acquire her affection."
Erik looked up at his friend, hope springing to his eyes.
"Do you truly believe it is possible?" he asked. "Could such a miracle take place…especially with a face like mine?"
"I have to believe in miracles, Erik," Amir told him, his eyes taking on a look of despair. "If not…then what hope is there for me, old friend?"
Erik nodded, realizing that Amir, too, fought the battle of a broken heart and it pained him even more to know that he was to blame for that as well.
"But how do I gain the trust of a woman who quakes in fear whenever I am in her presence?" Erik asked.
"Slowly and over time," Amir suggested. "You only met her yesterday. Let Christine get to know you, spend time with her, and for heavens' sake talk to the girl, don't just give orders or bark commands. Ask her opinion on things, find out her hopes, her dreams and desires, then do what you can to fulfill them."
Erik leaned back against the bench, contemplating his friend's words silently. After a bit he stood up and looked back at the mansion thoughtfully.
"Again, I am in your debt, Amir," he told the kindly Persian. "I will take your advice and tomorrow, Christine will see a whole new side to her terrifying husband. It is the least I can give her."
"It is a start anyway," Amir nodded. "Now get going before you lose your nerve."
"Are you sure you do not need me to assist you in getting upstairs?" Erik grinned.
"I have been taking care of myself, as well as you on occasion, for some time now. I think I can manage to climb a few pathetic flights of stairs," he retorted, feigning irritation at his suggestion.
"Very well then, just do not let me find you at the bottom of the steps in the morning with a broken neck," Erik warned.
"I will do my utmost and not be so rude as to ruin your breakfast with my gruesome death," Amir said, rolling his eyes.
"I would appreciate that very much," Erik thanked him as he headed into the mansion, leaving the Persian alone in the garden.
Amir sat there for a while longer, thinking of all that they had just talked about. He could see why Christine's words would have pained Erik so much, for they brought back echoes of the past for him as well. He shut his eyes and shook his head, willing his heart to stop aching for what he knew he could not have. When he opened them he allowed his eyes to rise upwards to a particular window on the third floor of the east wing. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the face of a dark haired beauty looking down at him. It lasted only a moment, for when she noticed that he was staring back at her, she quickly yanked the curtains closed and was gone…leaving Amir alone in the moonlight.
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Christine was jarred from her sleep by the sounds of movement in the room, causing her to stiffen up as she lay silently in place. She could hear the rustle of clothing, the tell-tale sound of boots striking the floor as they were removed and then the feel of the bed giving way under the weight of someone lying down beside her.
Erik had returned…but for what purpose? Her heart was beating frantically, waiting for him to reach out to her - to make his intentions known…but no touch came. At last, she dared to turn over, searching in the blackness for some indication of what she should do.
"Erik…?" she began, shaking with fear.
"Go back to sleep, Christine," came his voice in the dark. To her relief, he seemed neither angry nor upset, simply tired. "We will speak of things in the morning. Now it is best we both get some rest, nothing can be resolved at this late an hour." And as if that was his final word on the subject, she felt him turn over on his side and face away from her.
Christine did the same, rolling over so that her back was to him once again. Yet, even with the distance between them, she could still feel the heat from his body radiating across the space as it warmed her. She had run the gambit of emotions this day and even though she was still a jangle of nerves, her body quickly succumbed to exhaustion and she was soon fast asleep.
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Wow...that was...intense! AND a bit confusing hu? Lots of clues were just thrown at you. Good thing you have a few days to process it all before I post again, hu?
OH NO...looks like we never did settle the burning issue of "Will Amir make it up the stairs!?" Guess you will have to wait till next time to find out for sure.
I can't wait to hear what you THINK is going on...I will never tell you if you are right or wrong, but I LOVE to hear your guesses!
And if some of you are concerned over a few of the things Erik just said...remember, NOTHING is as it seems. hee hee.
