Charade
Chapter Two
She wakes up with a cold shiver, a breeze running down her back as she tosses in the bed.
"Miss?"
She suddenly sits up, her eyes wide as she spots the woman by the door.
The woman in question, brown-eyed and dark of skin, smiles at Gabriella, holding out a tray. She spots the teapot and cup and sighs. "I'm sorry, I've only just woken up." She tries, holding the bed sheet up to her chest as the woman approaches.
Wait, why is she holding the bed sheet? Why is she... naked? Oh, God.
"Miss? Do you like milk in your morning tea?" She asks, pouring the hot liquid into the small cup.
Gabriella shakes her head and smiles, "No, thank you. You are allowed to call me Gabriella, I hope you're aware. I wouldn't want you to think that I am all that different from you." She gladly takes the cup and holds it between her hands, "What is your name?"
"Mckessie- Taylor McKessie, I am your maid under Mr Bolton's supervision."
She seems around thirty years old, and well-mannered.
"I see." Gabriella speaks, slowly nodding her head, "And where is my... husband?" The word still sounds foreign to her.
Taylor raises her eyebrows, "He has not told you? He left a short while ago for a long walk." She explains, picking the tray back up from the edge of the bed.
"Where has he gone?" Gabriella enjoys a walk, and she figures that it might be time to spent to get to know her husband.
"Around the gardens. They're quite large but I'm positive you could find him. I'm told he always stops by a statue." She shrugs, hoping to be helpful.
The younger brunette nods, "Could you please help me?"
"It is my job to unsure that you receive everything you please, so I am sure we could find your husband without a hassle."
Gabriella takes another sip of her tea before settling it down on her bedside table. She goes to move from the bed until she remembers her nude state, "I- Uh... could you fetch me my gown?" She asks, watching as Taylor is already grabbing her gown.
"You aren't the first bride I've followed, Miss." She informs her and Gabriella blushes.
"He- Troy had... other wives?"
"No, no, Miss. My apologies, you misunderstood. I meant his father's wives. You are young mister Bolton's first bride, you needn't worry."
She nods then, standing from the bed as she dresses.
"I'll only be a moment."
"How far does it go?"
Taylor smiles as she walks behind Gabriella. "For around twenty acres. Don't go worrying, Miss, I'm sure you'll learn your way around with time."
Gabriella breathes out, folding her arms over her chest at the slightly cold air, "It's fresh weather for end of August."
Her maid nods, "Indeed."
They continue walking for a couple of minutes before they stop at a stone bench.
"Ahh, I think I have found him." Taylor speaks, pointing ahead towards a statue, and the man beside it.
Looking over in front of her, Gabriella thanks her for her company before heading over to her husband.
She walks down the small-stoned path, her hand tracing along the back of the bench as she goes, her fingers collecting light dirt. She stops not too far away from him, her hands resting behind her back as she tilts her head to the side.
She notices his hands in his pockets, his stiff back and his casual choice of clothing. She think that he clearly has no work to do today, but then she remembers that he is supposed to be one some sort-of honeymoon.
Because they're married now.
She glances down at her dress, frowning at a thread hanging from the dark red hem. It captivates her attention for a second, until she hears his voice call out to her.
"I thought you might have wanted to rest."
Gabriella's head perks up and she faintly smiles as she steps closer, "Good morning." She stands beside him, "I slept comfortably. Thank you."
He nods, his face in deep concentration and she notes that he hasn't looked at her yet.
"Is there something wrong?"
Her voice sounds concerned and he turns to smile down at her, "Everything is fine."
She nods and licks her lips, her cold hands rubbing together.
He glances down at her shivering hands, "You're cold. Here," He gently takes off his dark jacket and places it over her shoulders, pulling out her tucked-in hair to rest against her back.
"Thank you." She blushes slightly until she realizes that it's stupid, that she can't blush or act like a foolish little girl around him because he's her husband now, and she has to act like his wife.
Troy sighs, closing his eyes before speaking, "I have no idea what I'm doing." He tells her honestly, his voice almost so mute that she barely hears him.
She ponders for a second before taking his hand in her grasp and threading her fingers through his, "Me neither." She swallows a nervous breath when he looks down at her with that gaze, "But... we'll figure this out together."
"Thank you."
They stand in a foreign silence for a moment, hands clasped and eyes watching an unmoving statue.
"You seem fascinated by whoever this is. Tell me who it is?"
He shrugs, "I can't tell because I honestly have no clue."
Gabriella softly giggles, her smile wide and her hand wrapping tighter around his own.
"Have you eaten?" She's not even sure where the question comes from, but perhaps they could converse over a good breakfast, she thinks.
He shakes his head, glancing down to watch her, "Have you?" She finds herself unable to answer for a short while when he takes her other hand in his and starts to walk her backwards.
"I'm not hungry." He says, his hands sliding up her arms and he reaches her jacket-covered shoulders. He slips his hands to her waist then, his fingers digging into the low of her back.
She stares up at him, entranced until she feels her back hit a rough surface. Her hands touch it, feeling the familiar texture of a tree. Jesus Christ, is he being serious?
Her hands grip the wooden stock, tilting her head back when he leans down. She can feel his breath along the base of her neck and she gulps, "Tell me, are you hungry?" He asks her, and she's not entirely sure it's even a question.
Eyes closed, she gives into him, her back arching forward as he lifts her up. "Yes."
She wraps her legs around his waist, her hands still not touching his body. Troy grasps the backs of her thighs and sharply pulls her tighter against him, pressing himself her lower half. She bites her bottom lip again as he pushes his jacket from her shoulders and pulls up the edge of her dress to her hips.
She can feel him against her, hot and wanting, but she can't find it in herself to let him have her.
"For what?"
She's positive that he isn't talking about food anymore, that the topic is pushed to the back of his mind.
His hand trail up the outsides of her thighs, resting on the hips beneath her creased dress.
Gabriella closes her eyes, letting her arms wrap around his neck as she keeps herself up against him, her fingers toying with the hairs on the back of his neck. He parts her legs further, stepping closer between them if possible.
She shivers from the cold air hitting against her bare legs, and she snaps back to reality. She pushes against him suddenly, letting herself drop to the ground as she moves away from him, pulling her dress back down her thighs.
She picks his jacket off of the floor and tosses it over her shoulders warmly. He smirks when she runs a hand through her tussled hair and takes a deep breath, "For food."
He's not sure how she walks away so fast but he finds himself following her, his face amused as she speeds up her pace.
"How is your supper, Miss?" A maid asks she puts a bottle of wine down on the table.
Gabriella smiles at her, "It's wonderful, thank you. I've never felt something so smooth in my mouth, it just melts. It's delicious."
"Yet." Troy pipes up from the other end of the table, a grin on his face as he flicks through some letters.
She ignores his suggestive comment with glare before glancing back up at the elderly woman with a soft smile. "Thank you."
The woman pours her another glass of red wine before picking up the pot of water and placing it in the middle of the large table before leaving the married couple in silence.
They sit in a comfortable quiet for a few minutes, each minding their own business. Gabriella buttering her bread and Troy continuing to read through his papers.
Her butter knife makes a loud clinging sound as it drops onto her plate and she sighs a deep breath before finally breaking the silence.
"Why are you so cold with me?" She asks, a frown on her face as she places her hands in her lap.
Troy looks up, raising an eyebrow at her question. He brushes it off with a shake of the head, "I'm not."
"Yes, you are. You have been all day, ever since breakfast. You're warm with me, and then you're cold again. I know you didn't ask for this, but neither did I. We're both struck in this situation so we might as well get along."
"We were getting along until you decided to start a argument."
"I'm not starting an argument, I'm ending one." She declares, slamming her hands down on the table briefly before standing and storming away from their breakfast.
Troy rolls his eyes with a sigh before following after her, his footsteps slow behind hers as she runs up the stairs.
She quickly makes it into their bedroom, leaning herself forward on the bed, her chest panting heavily. Taylor trails behind her and helps her unzip her dress as she gasps for air.
He makes it to their room and stands in the doorway with a heated expression.
"Leave."
Taylor falters and glances at Gabriella for reassurance. The brunette looks away and swallows a breath before Taylor leaves the room, closing the door behind her.
"What do you want from me?" She shouts, her hands resting on the side of the bed to hold her up as she pants.
"I don't want anything." He tells her honestly, moving closer to stand behind her. He grasps her hips and pulls her against his front, her back colliding with his hard chest. "I need it." She doesn't breathe for a moment, letting his words sink in, and gulps when he pulls down the rest of the zip on the side of her dress. He tugs down the thin straps and lets it fall from her body, pooling around her feet as she kicks it aside. "And you need it, too."
"I don't need anything from you." She tries, closing her eyes agin when he brings a hand around her front and plays with the knot of her night-gown.
Troy leans his head in the crook of her neck, "No, but you still want it." His words continue to confuse her and she mentally kicks herself for letting him take control over her, "You want this. You want me." He unties the string of her small gown and places open-mouthed kisses against her neck, "You want me to touch you." His hand grab her hair and pull out her the ribbon holding her loose ponytail in place, making her curls fall over her shoulders. He sweeps it to the side to touch her neck again and grasps the front of her dress in his hold, "Say it."
He's not forcing her to do anything, he's not being rude, he's just pointing out what she's been feeling all day. "No."
"You don't want me to do this?" He kisses her neck again, suckling on her skin, "Or this?" His hand slips up her stomach before sliding down her knickers, cupping her center.
She moans and fidgets, thrusting back against him.
"I think you do." He smiles devilishly, gripping her hips as she rests back against his body further, her behind pressing into him and her hands gripping his legs from behind her.
She stays still, letting his mouth work down her neck toward the top of her back, gently presses butterfly kisses along her soft skin, "You're my husband. I have to want you."
Troy pauses, stopping his movements against her, "This has nothing to do with us being married."
"Doesn't it?" She turns her head to look at him through the corner of her eye, "I was under the impression that because we were betrothed, I had to give myself over to you, and submit to you, and give you everything you could ever want..."
"I did not ask for you to marry me, are we clear?" He steps away from her, his hands hanging stiff as he sighs, "I did not make you do any such thing."
Gabriella half-smiles, turning around to face him as she folds her arms over her almost bare chest, "Believe me, husband, I know that. I don't do anything I do not want to, not without thinking about it. I didn't marry you for your money, or for your charms and good looks, nor for me. I married you for your business, and for my family alone. They needed me, so I needed you. I am not going to be your little play toy for when you get tired or angry. I am not going to put up with your hard and cold behaviour. And I am definitely not going to give you anything, any part of me, until I want to. I am your wife, and you need to respect me, or this marriage is never going to work."
She stalks past him then, pulling on the hem of her small dress as she leaves the room and heads down the corridor, searching for Taylor, no doubt. She thanks the stars that this is her house now, so she's allowed to cry and scream whenever she pleases. A loud sob escapes her as she collapses down on the bathroom floor when Taylor rushes in.
"Miss Gabriella, what has happened?" She kneels down before the young woman in concern, holding her shoulders comfortably.
Gabriella shakes her head with a cry,"I don't know if I can do this."