~Chapter Nine~
She had the worst feeling. Dizziness of a sort, as if the ground were moving and she were lying still. She sat up with a groan, rubbing at her head. She was disoriented. She could hear her breathing echoing, and knew she was in some large room. No, rooms didn't move and it was clear she was moving. This was a train car. She felt out in the inky blackness, trying to find a wall, and when she did, she crawled up it until she was on her feet. Her eyes could make out vents near the ceiling, and small spaces no bigger than her finger near the edge of the door. Suddenly she was blinded by a flash of light. Her hand covered her eyes until they adjusted. Now she could see the tell-tale stripes of fabric as well as the man who hung the lantern from the hook beside a door.
Colonel Peter Walter the third was quite happy she was awake now. He'd dined with his family, and when his brother and father had settled in for a game of cards with Spine, Rabbit and The Jon content to watch the scenery out of the window, he had excused himself, apologizing for his earlier behavior again, claimed a little time alone with his books and schematics was just the medicine he needed. He did so often, after all, and why would they question what was commonplace. He'd sat there, in the dark, watching her for half an hour at least, waiting with the patience a spider showed while waiting for its web to move.
He took a lean against the door, crossing his arms over his chest. "I told you not to keep me waiting. Didn't you expect there would be consequences for disobeying me?" He lifted his brows attempting to look merely inquiring. Inside his head, good sense was like Saint George, seeking to a slay a dragon. He could easily take her to the lounge, they'd stop the train, or send her in a rented car from the next town to her home and there would be little true harm done. He'd be disowned, probably, but she would be fine. The beast inside his belly struck with lustful claws that left wounds bleeding, pouring out images like flames. Imaginings of her in his arms, against his body, beneath him, above him. His hands flexed where they rested with the sheer ache of wanting to grab her up and kiss her until she was too breathless to resist him.
She was, if possible, even more confused. Her thoughts felt like a train moving from a full stop. It lurched slowly forward, creeping toward recallection and consciousness with ever increasing speed, but at the moment, it felt sluggish and dull. She remembered he'd come to demand she apologize for tempting him, which was ridiculous. She'd felt so strange and she noted his smile when the train of thought reached full speed. She backed away, her hand shaking as it rose to her face, her eyes wide as a doe facing a ravenous wolf. "What have you done?" She scanned the car quickly, and felt the track beneath them, aware they were going far too fast for her to hope of jumping to safety, even if she could have opened the door. "This is not funny. Let me out of this room, or so help me, I will scream the roof down on us both!"
He shifted his weight, letting his arms fall to his sides as he pushed off of the door and stalked toward her, knowing the doors were both locked. She tried to feign, but he caught her by the arm, his other hand taking hold of her wrist when her hand rose to claw at him. Both arms tucked behind her, his chest pressed to hers, his knee pressing between her knees, his head bowed to brush the prickly skin of his chin along her neck, his breath hot upon her earlobe. "If it pleases you, do it. Scream for me."
She twisted in the attempt to prise herself loose of his grip only to stop when the rough press of his arousal's proof dug into her hip, knowing her fighting was, if not the cause, certainly it was helpful. "Please..." She whimpered softly. "Please let me go." Her hips pulling as far back as possible to escape the grinding rub of his loins against her, but any ground she took, he followed and occupied a moment later.
"Go where?" His chuckle was low and devlish. He drew a deep, slow breath, inhaling her scent into his lungs, the noblity of the knight representing his sanity was struck a mortal wound, the pang of self-directed shame quickly smothered in the sheer strength of his want to possess her. "Like the little girl in her red hood, you left the path and tred into a dangerous wilderness." He wound his left hand's long fingers around both wrists, allowing the other hand to slide over her waist and up along the base of her ribs, the warmth of her skin radiating through the layers of fabric. He was so pleased that fashion had no further use for girdles and binding. Under his palm it was all heat and soft feminine flesh. "a succulent little nibble who thought she could dangle herself before the wolves and never feel their teeth." His teeth softly sank into the space where neck became shoulder, and he felt her flinch, the nibbles working their way up along the line of her neck toward her jaw and the soft lobe of her ear. He could hear her breathing so quick and shallow, the rumbling growl of the beast inside of him was made audible by his own rumbling expression of hunger and need.
It was impossible to think, her head was swimming. Worried for her safety, but in greater fear of the alluring sensuality of his body and words in tandem as they sought to wear down her defenses. She had to keep a clear head. "Why are you doing this? You know that no matter what you do to me, it will not be long before you're found out. Why would you risk prison just for... " she bit her lip. "For fleeting physical pleasure?"
She felt a rumble slide through him like thunder, cracking from his lips in a faint roll of laughter. "Oh, my dear, whatever made you think I intend to make anything fleeting?" He lifted his hand from her ribs to again wrap around her neck. "I am known for my solitude. It may well be hours before they come to try and tempt me to join them. Might even be tomorrow morning." His thumb petted along her jawline. "And you will be silent when I leave, and hide yourself in case any of the others should, perchance come back here until I call for you to return to my arms." He could see hope flare in her eyes. He knew what she was thinking. Of betrayal.
"I wouldn't do what you're thinking of, Pet. Because if you do, you would have to explain to my father why one of his sons is dead. Because if your precious Peter gets a sniff of you, he won't stop until I gave you to him." He closed his fingers around her throat again. "And I will not let that happen. I will kill him dead, and it will be all your fault." He grit his teeth as his hand slowly crept downward from her throat and over the topmost button of her dress. "Why fight me? It's more than likely you will find it just as pleasurable as I surely will." Toying with the button, but not undoing it, simply twisting it slowly one way, then the other.
She would never have painted him a murderer, but then, as she thought on it, why should he not be? He was cruel and lacivious and if, before, she had projected a decency to him, she knew now it was never there to begin with. His fingers at the top of her dress were making her skin itch, wanting to reach up and push him away, she wrestled and felt his fingers dig into her wrists harder, a surge of pain halting her attempt. "What did I ever do to earn this? I've been nothing but kind to you." She screamed softly as suddenly her world was spun around her, whipped away from the wall to fly backward onto the folded walls of canvas, sliding to the floor on the far side, throwing back her head to look up at him, horrified.
"Kind?" He was panting through his teeth, his lips curled in fury. "Kind?!" He stalked toward her, looming large over her prone figure. "All you have done since the moment I met you, is laugh at me. You think just beause you're clever and beautiful that you're above everyone. Some princess deigning to walk amongst the common folk and we should bow and scrape and lick up what scraps you throw us." he leaned down and jerked her to her feet. He let the eyes that shifted ever between bright emerald and muddy olive, trace every line and curve of her face. "I am not satisfied with your scraps, Mary. I will have every bite. Every morsel."
He slid his arm around her shoulders and her waist, binding her against him, her hands pressed flat between her chest and his. "I will gorge myself on every delicious part of you. There will be nothing you will deny me." He lowered his lips against hers, the kiss as tender as his embrace was rough. The kiss did not diminish the beast, too gentle, too soft to sate carnality, but it fed the knight, who lay wounded by alive. "Say it..." He murmured against her lips. "Say you'll give me everything you are, every thought, every feeling, every part. Say you'll be mine, Mary. Swear it so we can stop this ridiculous fighting." The beast still lay coiled to strike, but the knight stood, wounded and barely holding on to life, between her and the ravenous madness of his lust.
She knew then that he was not being cruel. He was not merely devious or wanton or lacivious. He was insane. She felt ice flood through her, a painful chill permiating to the very core. Her palms kept the pressure between them, pushing at his chest steadily as she sought just a few inches, enough to draw a free breath or look at his face without having to cross her eyes. "What good would my word be, if I am as terrible as you say I am? The woman you described hardly sounds trustworthy." She thought if she could calm him, just for a few minutes, it would allow her body and brain to recover and she would think of some way to escape.
He let her have that small victory. The space was not enough yet to part their bodies, but the crushing grip eased so she could breathe a bit easier. "You don't think I will trust your word?" He gave a low mutter like an accountant doing sums under his breath before he spoke. "I don't. Still I want to hear it." He lifted his hand from her shoulder and wove his fingers in the soft mass of her hair, dragging her head back until she cried out. "Say it!"
"Go to Hell!" She kicked him in the shin, not getting much in the way of space, but it was enough that it set him stumbling and his grip failed. She ran for the closer door, which pulling proved locked. She looked back, sure he'd be there, pouncing upon her like a fox on a chick, but he remained where he had been, staring at her.
"Come here." There was nothing but ice in his tone.
She pressed back against the wall, shaking her head slowly, her heart pounding in her ears so loud she barely heard her own voice. "You're not well, Mr. Walter."
"You think I don't know that!?" He barked, rubbing his head faintly. He couldn't think. "I do not want to be like this." He frowned. "I'm not usually." His voice grew quiet. "More than once I've been told I lack passion and yet..." He turned his eyes to her, darkened to almost black. "... I know with the certainty I am sure you have that two and two is four and that the sun will rise in the east... that if you do not come here, I will come for you, and I do not know that you will survive."
She knew he spoke the truth. Slowly, she edged away from the door. Her footsteps slow but she moved toward him. She expected him to move, but he didn't, he was still as death, she thought. When she got close enough though, she could see he was shaking, his slender fingers dug into his thighs.
"I'm here."
His hand moved like a snake striking, grabbing her wrist with bone-crushing strength. She cried out and he stood slowly, his fingers unrelenting. "Good girl. Now. Say you will do as I ask of you."
She felt tears rising in her eyes, shaking her head as he peered at her without emotion it seemed. A cold, heartless machine. She could feel his warmth, had felt his heartbeat, his lust against her. He gave a twist and agony raced up her arm to explode in her shoulderblade. "I will do what you ask." She hissed it and he let her go, her own hand wrapping around and drawing her arm against her chest.
He nodded. "Good. We won't have to fight like this again then." He stood up and moved back to the folding chair he'd taken down for his waiting, sitting again and folding his arms over his chest. "Come here."
What choice had she? She stood and lifted her chin, wiping at her cheeks to banish the tears before she moved forward, crossing toward him.
"Stop." He lifted his hand, palm out, when she was perhaps four or five feet away. He looked at her from behind the lenses that caught the lamplight. The beast inside of him purred in satisfaction, and it prickled with some kind of deviant pride to see his handprint still branded on her skin. "That is a very pretty dress. Did you make it yourself?"
She nodded hesitantly.
"Mmm." He nodded. "Take it off." She blinked at him, shaking her head instinctively and he sighed. "If you do not take it off, I'll do it, and I won't give a damn for keeping it whole."
She lifted her hands to the buttons and nodded faintly. He sat back and recrossed his arms, watching. Fear made her take her time, which only made it worse for her. The teasing peeks of skin and the hot blush of her cheeks. Tears tickled down across the heated pink contour to drip down and splash against her dress until she had no more buttons. She had stopped, trembling as she stood with her head up, glaring. "Go on." He noted the roll of her shoulders, the arch of her back as she peeled the dress off and let it fall to her feet. She stood there in her sockings and shoes, the thin cotton slip over her chemise and bloomers. "Keep going." He growled between his teeth, a tiger coiled in some Indian jungle, watching a tiny antelope at the water hole.
She was weeping despite the clench of her jaw, the sniffle sound of her breathing echoing softly. His gaze rooted to the hem of her petticoat as it crept higher, over her knees, her thighs, the lace-edge of her bloomers peeking and then bared completely. She pulled the garment overhead and let it fall from her fingers to the floor. "Stop." He spoke, a huskiness influencing the word. "Bring them here." He set his feet on the ground, brushing his palms over the tops of his thighs. "Lay them right in my lap."
She picked them up, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand as she crept closer, feeling that aura of danger he eminated. carefully, she laid her dress and petticoat across his lap, doing her best not to touch him when she did. Unlike before, he did not move to catch her, and she sprang back for nothing. He did not move, but watched her for several seconds. He stood suddenly and she stepped back further dragging a grin to his lips. He gave a chuckle and with care, folded the dress and slip as one parcel. "You did very well. I will return when I can."
"You don't mean you're going to leave me here like this!?"
"Oh..." He stepped closer and canted his head. "Begging me to stay already?"
She frowned and shook her head faintly. "You will." He nodded as his hand retrieved the key from his pocket. "Until I return, I want you to think about how you came to this." He tucked her dress under his arm and gave a bow of his head, enjoying the look of shock on her face as he turned and slid the key into the lock, twisting it and pulling the door open. He closed it tight, locking it from the other side as it trembled, her body hitting against it and sliding down. The beast in him was sated for a while. He made his slow way back to the front of the train. He hadn't realized he still was clutching the dress until he reached the sleeping berth. He could put it in his room, but Peter was always in there nosing around when he couldn't find something. He smirked to himself and opened the door to the space set aside for the band, though they never used it. He lifted one of the bunks and tucked the dress underneath, smoothing it back in place and then slipping out to join his family again, the dangerous beast inside of him content to let him breathe for now. How long it would last though, he couldn't say.