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Chapter 8

Chris

In the oncoming weeks, I felt in a dark place. I had hoped our botched wedding night would be the worst, and that from there things would get better, while I knew in the back of my mind it would not be so. I tried again and again to please her and each time my failure made me all the more miserable. I silently cursed myself, wishing for another body, one that would respond correctly to the proper things, not this twisted mistake I had been handed: a damning attraction to the same gender.

That was not my only worry, for Katie Lea was nearly turning my manor upside down, and inside out. During the day she bossed my staff, driving my poor lovely cook to tears on more than one occasion. I had seen her once curled on the steps, mopping her eyes with her cap, as Darla tried to comfort her. She was stirring my whole household and making for a tense, strained, atmosphere. My home had seemed to lose the comfort I had before took refuge in. She was like some great crow which had descended upon my life.

Even many of my personal belongings had been done away with and replaced. I had tried to bite back my protests, not wanting to incite her wrath, yet when she insisted on replacing some of my most prized items we exploded into a grand argument that had some of the servants huddled in the doorway, hands too their lips as they took in the scene. Katie put an end to the tiff by wounding me with her yelling about my intimate failure--her screeches made it known to all staff that was present. She huffed away, and I slinked away as I wished for a hole to burry myself.

Since our wedding night I had taken Matthew only once, my frustrations overwhelmed me, and I needed some sort of relief or I feared I would lose my mind. But this morn after, I found myself hiding in the study to avoid Katie Lea, and my thoughts turned over Matthew and the way I forced myself upon him, from time to time. He was my slave, and therefore my property to do with as I wished. However, I had never seen any of those in my servitude as property, I had treated them all as human, though he required none of my graciousness especially when he grumped and became insolent. Still, guilt began to rise up in my chest as I found myself relating to his position. Just as I was being forced into a live this lie, to be held in the palm of a cold, shrewd, witch--so was I forcing him to my own hand. I wanted him so badly, and the more Katie tried to throw herself at me, and the worse she became, the more I wanted to run to him and shut both of us away and be lost to those moments that made me feel free, alive.

Now, however, I felt that perhaps I should grant the wish of his, to be simply slotted to care for my beasts, and not for my perverse desires. I no longer felt justified in taking him against his will, and having him of his own accord was no more than a fools fantasy. I drew my hand in front of my face, studying the damning gold band that cuffed my finger. The winking light blurred as my eyes welled with tears. I hated her already, I hated what my life was becoming, and in public I hid it all beneath a wide, white, smile.

I was jolted from my thoughts at a screech, and turned to see my beloved cook scurrying past the study door, Darla close on her heels. Sighing, I followed them out. The raven haired cook threw her cap to the ground and stomped on it, her face wet with tears, an enraged cry tearing from her throat.

"That--that--fiend!" She screamed, her fists balling at her sides.

"Wot now dear?" Darla asked, taking her hands and uncurling them.

"She 'as done naught but complain of me food, ne'er 'ave I been so upset! She's made threat to release me from service, m'lord!" She turned her tearful eyes to me, and I went to her and stepped between the two. I smiled and took her hands in my own. " 'Ave I not always served you well, dear Sir? Please I beg of ya, don't let her put me out!"

I looked between the two girls and knew that what I was about to do would send my lovely wife into yet another set of hysterics.

"Of course not my dear, I wouldn't dream of releasing you." I wrapped her in my arms, surprised that I didn't feel the revulsion that I felt when I held Katie Lea thusly, though there was nothing more than an ease of friendship. "Would you rather I send you back to the townhome?"

Her eyes were filled with tears and she shook her head, and I fought the small pang of jealously for knowing why—because of Matthew. "Well then, take the rest of the day and spend it doing whatever it is you wish. I shall straighten out this mess." I said sternly. I wished I could talk to Kaite Lea and have her obey me the same as those in my employ.

Jezebel bounded off towards the quarters and I waved Darla away, sending her back to her duties before my wife thought she was skimping on them and threatened to put her out too. As I headed into the kitchen I noted Matthew lounging on one of the chairs while Big Paul sat next to him, bowls of soup sitting in front of them. I swallowed and beckoned him outside, it was now or never for what I wanted to say and I only prayed that no one stumbled upon us. I heard him grumble as I took him round the side of the house and forced myself to look everywhere but at him. I knew that if I did I wouldn't be able to say what I needed to say. Once we were secluded I cleared my throat and worked my face into a neutral expression before I spoke.

"Matthew from this day on you are solely to work with the horses. Your other service to me is no longer needed." Before he could utter one word I turned on my heel and left him to his devices, a piece of me feeling as if it curled up and died in my chest.

Matt

I stood there stupidly, my brow drawn together as I stared after him. Yet the more I thought about it, the more it confused me and even stung a little. I started to go after him, wanting--no needing to know, but I stopped myself. He had just given me what I had been praying for. No longer did I have to suffer his hands on my body, touching and teasing before bending me to his will. With a smirk I was not sure was completely genuine I headed back into the manor. Big Paul still sat at the table, but instead of steadily dipping his spoon in the soup his large hands were clapped over his ears. I went to ask him why but as I opened my mouth the most horrified screeching noise I could ever dream of filled the air followed by the Duke's yelling.

"Damn it, this is my house and I do the hiring of the servants! Ms. Piper has been naught but the most faithful of cooks and I will not have you stepping on my toe when it comes to the running of the house."

"Excuse me M'Lord," The single word held more hate than I could ever muster and I unwillingly congratulated her on it. "But I thought that the running of the household fell to me now that we are wed." There came a strangled sounding cry followed by the sounds of doors slamming shut. Moments later the Duchess came into the kitchen. Her eyes swept over Big Paul and I in turns; although the feel of her gazing at me made my skin crawl. I suddenly desired to be else where. I left my bowl on the table and knew that not only Jezebel but Darla would be after me for it, but I had to get out of there. I headed to the stables and took a deep breath of my new found freedom yet feeling oddly unfulfilled by it.
The day passed on, with my head pounded sorer and sorer from the Duchess' shouting. By the time evening drew on the landscaped was painted in shadows, and I was tucked away in my quarters. I considered paying Jezebel a visit to cheer her up. I pulled my hair over my shoulder and began to unweave the braid. The dark strands spilled out in tight curls. My thoughts began to shift back to the Duke, and I was nearly startled at a knock on my door. Perhaps Master had changed his mind, his will being too weak to with hold his desires. I stalked across the small room and jerked the door open. My mouth snapped closed when I saw it was not Duke Irvine who stood before me, the moon glowing in his golden hair, but nay the other, darker half. T'was the Lady Katherine, her dark eyes shifty in the shadows. Before I could speak she had swept inside, pushing me out of the way and shutting the door tight.

"Matthew, pray tell you can quench my thrist..." She growled out, low and lustful as she advanced on me. I blinked back at her in confusion, stuttering as her hands pulled her raven hair over her shoulders like an unruly mane.

"T-thirst m'lady? You're rather far from the kitchen for something to quench your thirst." She laughed, a nerve grating sound and slowly started towards me again, her hands finally resting on my chest.

"Silly boy, I'm right where I need to be to be quenched." Her last word was accented by her

hands gripping my manhood and stroking it through the linen of my trousers. I swallowed and gripped her wrist and removed it from my person. "M'lady I fear that there is nothing in here that can quench that particular thirst you have."
She stamped her foot and her face screwed into an awful scowl.

"I shan't find it in that--that failure of a man." She bit out, still advancing, literally stepping on my toes. "But you, you seem to be quite different. You are always with a lady or two hanging about. I'm sure you would enjoy my company thrice more than that of those annoying, common little kitchen flies." She wrinkled her nose, then shook the ill look away and replaced it by a coy smile. "Not to fret love, the Duke would not know of our dalliances. Besides, what else would he expect? A lady must take her pleasure where it can be found, and my poor, pitiful, dolt of a husband is just not...'up' to the task."

Her hands were once more groping me through my clothes; making me feel dirtier than a long day shoveling out the stalls. My mouth worked, words swirled in my mind to hurl at her so that she would take her hands from me. Not only did I not want her to touch me but I found myself feeling rather angry at the way she spoke of the Duke. I may not have liked him but I would never have spoke ill of him; he has been kind to me even during my most terrible of tantrums.

"M'lady, I do not fear the Duke finding out for it will not happen. I'm sorry to disappoint you but I find myself not being 'up' to performing this evening. My two 'common kitchen flies' have quite worn me out and I am looking forwards to naught but the feel of my mattress beneath my aching bones." Once more she screeched and this time I did cover my ears and prayed that they weren't bleeding. She looked as if she was going to slap me and I braced myself for the blow but instead she glared and then flounced away.

I was now more flummoxed than before, as I lowered myself to my downy mattress. Surely with her cold treatment, the Duke would be running to me more oft than before even, and yet he had ended our affairs entirely. I should have been glad and unconcerned over the details, and yet, it did not seem right.

A soft knock sounded on my door and once more I dragged myself from my bed, my body feeling its 30 odd years and then some as bones cracked and popped as I moved. I opened the door slowly and closed my eyes as I pictured the Duchess standing there once more. Instead it was Jezebel, a smile on her pretty face as she looked up at me. In her hands was a covered plate and my stomach reminded me that I had in fact skipped dinner that evening. With a smile I let her in and moved over and sat down on the mattress as she bustled about my small room; putting things to right as I dug in. As I chewed on the cold pheasant I watched her, noting how her clothes clung to her body yet I could not bring myself to think anymore. She turned to me, still smiling and climbed into my lap, setting the cold meat back down on the silver plate.

"I've missed ye today Matthew." She purred as her fingers worked themselves into my mane. The normally soothing feeling sent shivers down my back, but the not the kind that I was used to getting.

"Jezzy, I'm not feeling well tonight." I said gently as I moved her to the side and kissed her nose as she pouted at me.

Darla came and seen you earlier didn't she love?" She asked. I laughed and shook my head. "Verily no. I haven't seen her about at all today." That seemed to appease her and she settled down, her hands lying restless in her lap.
"Then it must be the Duchess and her 'orrible squawking has you feelin' ill! Me own pretty little head is still ringin' with it. The good Duke certainly picked 'imself a fine harpy. Wot he seen in her, I can't tell. She reminds of a great, belowin' bird, flappin' about, she does!" I laughed at her as she scowled and waved her arms about, comically miming a flutter of wings.

"That she does my love. I do thank you for the food, but I think you had better find your way back to your quarters for the night." She pouted but got up and I patted her backside, earning myself a playful smile as she left. I finished off my meal and set the plate on the small table that I had confiscated from the barn. As I laid there my eyes became heavy and yet at the same time my mind kept running back over what the Duke had said and how things did not seem to add up. The only logical thing that came to mind was that he had found another to sate his desires; someone more pliant that would not fight him tooth and nail. I growled and flipped over to my side and willed myself to sleep.

Chris

I was curled under the silky covers, my mind beginning to drift away on the edges of sleep, when my solar was invaded. I groaned and wished to duck my head beneath the covers. The day had been long, full of turmoil and tension. I felt the bed dip, and her hands gripped my shoulders hard, rolling me over. She straddled me, and started an assault on my neck.

"Katherine..." I sighed out. She ravaged my exposed flesh as it burned from embarrassment, knowing that this repetitive effort for us to make love would have the same outcome as the ones prior.

"Shut up, I did not come to you to hear you speak!" She bit out at me and closed my words off by pressing her lips to mine and biting. I tasted blood and urged her back. She screamed, and brought her fists crashing into my chest in her rage.

"Stop it!" I pushed her away from me and escaped from the bed, she followed shortly after me.
"You're going nowhere! I demand you stay in this bed until you can get that pathetic thing of yours to respond! I did not marry to become celibate!"

"I did not marry to be treated as dog!" I shouted back as my anger boiled over.

"Nay, not a dog. Even a surly stray dog can please its mate!" She spat.

I bit my tongue, keeping harsh words at bay, and trying for something softer to just get her to leave me be.

"Just go to bed...love...and perhaps tomorrow night--"

Her open palm rang hard against my face and cocked my head to the side. My eyes flew wide in shock.

"Why would tomorrow night be any different from the rest! You're pathetic!" She continued to spit, as her open slaps became solid punches, and I threw my arms to my face in defense. "Look at you--woman!" She screamed.

"I--I will not tolerate such ba-barbarism in my own home!" I defended, ducking her wild fists.

"I do not care what you tolerate, and what you do not! OUT!" She shrieked and backed me towards the door. Our argument somehow made it from my solar and down the marble stairs, and into the kitchen. By the time my back was against the door, I barely knew where I was. Her insults and fists ripped through me, my failures rubbed in my face again and again until I felt as small as a bug, no more than a clod of dirt ground under her shoe. When her rain of terror finally subsided, I cautiously lowered my arms. My face was hot and streaked with tears that only made me feel like even less of a man, but I couldn't stop them from falling anymore.

"Unbelievable." She muttered. "Get out of my sight, woman!" She opened the door, and before I could get my bearings her hands were planted firmly into my chest.

She shoved me. I stumbled backwards, my foot awkwardly caught the step and all my weight came down at an odd angle, the pain sudden and intense as my ankle rolled, and threw me onto the wet ground. I tried to scramble back up to the door, crawling on my knees and scraping the skin. I banged on the door, and pulled on the knob but the door would not move. She had probably shoved a chair under the knob or something, and there I was cast out of my own home, wet and cold in my nightshirt, my ankle throbbing with pain, my own yell echoing through my ears.

I ran my hand over my eyes and tried angrily to smear away the tears, only getting the gritty feel of dirt wiped across my face. I battled my hair out of my face and got up, gingerly testing my painful ankle. I tried desperately to swallow back my tears as I limped to the barn like a kicked and injured dog. Humiliated, ashamed, I crawled into the barn and slid down into a corner near a lump of straw for the horses. In the darkness I could hear tiny squeaks and claws scrabbling, mice no doubt, and when one scampered over my bare toes I let out a startled cry. Dissolving into tears at my pathetic state, I pulled my knees close to my chest, shivering, hugging them for warmth. I would most likely catch my death out here in the cold, drizzle of rain. Perhaps that would not be the worst fate I could meet.

By and by, my swollen eyes began to slide closed, the bleariness of sleep soon crept over me, and thankfully it dulled the ache of my ankle. I only hoped none of my household would stumble across me in the early morning, slumped against a mound of hay, dirty, disheveled like a common pauper or even lower. I did not even wish for my beloved Christian to see me in such condition—and certainly not Matthew for he would surely be unkind and make a mockery of my misery. And yet, I was here because of him, and as I drifted to sleep, they were his arms which I imagined held me.

Matt

I woke again in a cold sweat as I did often, though even as often as the nightmares plagued me, I had never quite grown accustomed to them. The dreams of my childhood, of letting my brother be killed so savagely, nearly always haunted me at night. I sat up in bed and pulled my sticky, dark hair out of my face, and drew the sleeve of my nightshirt over my brow. I took a moment to calm my frantic breathing, and I knew I would not be able to fall asleep again this night. I did what I had been known oft to do when the night was cruel to me.

I slipped from my quarters and went to the barn, the soft sounds of the horses snoring and shuffling their hooves, and the familiar smell, was a calming scene to me. In the darkness I walked past each stall and checked on each beast as he slept standing in the shadows. One, my favorite chestnut, stirred awake and pranced over, the moonlight glistening from her smooth hide. I stroked her shoulder, the feel like velvet beneath my hands. She snorted, pressing her nose into my shoulder, she always made me smile and I patted her snout, speaking to her lowly as her deep brown eyes blinked at me.

"Okay, m'lady be patient and I shall get a treat for you. Don't tell the others." I patted her side and went to the storage where the grain was kept, and drew out a handful of oats. I turned to go back to her, treat in hand, but something caught my bare foot and I went down with and 'oof' meeting the dirt floor of the barn hard enough to scratch skin away from my palms. As I picked myself up, I fancied I heard whimper, and not of animal kind. "Is someone there?" I shouted into the darkness, scrambling for something to arm myself with, just to take precautions. I found a shovel, and hoisted it up ready to do damage to anything unsavory lurking in my masters barn. "Show yourself!" I demanded, and was caught off guard by what answered me, quiet weeping. "Christian? Adam?" I advanced slowly, forgetting the shovel and leaning it against the wall. The sounds had stopped. Whoever made them did not seem to want to be noticed. "Darla?"

Then, in a slant of moonlight, I saw the person belonging to the whimpering. His face was buried in his knees, his blond hair falling round like a veil, but I knew his form, though strange to see him huddled in the corner of the barn like a desperate animal, shivering.

"Master?"

He tilted his head up, just enough to look at me over his knees. His eyes were tired, puffy red, his face streaked with tears and dirt. I was more than shocked to see him that way, so below the regal man he was.

I slowly walked over towards him; acting as if I was approaching a rabid animal. He shrank back from me, a move that had me drawing up short. Cautiously I once more start towards him, kneeling down in front of him and trying to keep my face neutral but the sight of him in that pitiful condition leaves me breathless and wordless. He suddenly scowls and waves his hands at me, his voice wavering as he commands me to leave.

"Go on, go about your night Matthew." I cocked my head. Did he not realize that it was past the witching hour and everyone other that the thieves and highwaymen were abed this time of night.

"Sire..."

"I said leave Matthew." I felt the my resentment at the man creep back into my stomach and I turned to leave; what matter was it of mine if he wanted to spend the night huddled on the cold ground like a common street urchin. Yet the moment I took one step away I heard him sobbing and I knew that I could not leave him there as much as I felt he deserved it. I ignored his protests and picked him up, craddling him bridal style against my chest.

I headed back into my room and sat him down on my bed and stepped back, watching as he bent down to rub at his ankle. Even in the moon light that spilled through my window I could see the swelling and I could only imagine what he felt. I kneeled down once more and took the abused appendage in my hands and winced when he drew in a pained breath. He tried to twist it from my hands but only managed to wrench it more, making him cry out.

"Be still sire, let me wrap it to keep it from moving to much. It looks like nothing more than a sprain."

I got up from my position and rifled through the small chest that sat at the end of my bed and pulled out a stiff roll of leather I used on my own ankle when I twisted it working with the new philly. Gently I lifted his foot, flexing until it was back to a semi normal position. I wrapped it, making myself ignore the hurt filled gasps and whimpers. Finally I got it secured and I lowered the foot back to the floor and watched as he drew himself into a small ball on the bed; looking like a lost child.

"Why Matthew?" He asked, his voice muffled by his arms.

"Why what sire?"

"Why would you treat me so kindly after all I have put you through?"

"Sir, even though I despised the things you requested of me, you have treated me fairer than others. For my surly ways I would have surely been beaten many times over, if t'was another in your uplace. Yes, you have been rough at times, but you have never subjected me to a beating, even when I readily deserved it."

I watched his face as he cobalt eyes seemed far away, the sunny lashes jeweled with tears.

"I...I should never have asked such a thing of you, Matthew. I am truly sorry for the burden I have laid upon you in my selfishness. My judgment was clouded by...this--this sickness." His words ended in a sob which he tried to choke back, then muffled by burrying his face into his knees.
I did not know what to say. I had never thought that he and I would be in the same place talking quietly when a bed was mere inches away and other activities could have easily been partaken of. I sat down next to him and awkwardly took his hand in mine, forcing myself to look past the warm feeling that suddenly blossomed in my stomach at the simple touch. I opened my mouth to say something that would soothe his suffering yet the words that tumbled out were not that. The jumble that my thoughts have been since I heard that afternoon that I was free from his desires instead were voiced.

"M'Lord I must know, why have you set me aside? Is there another?" He brought his head up and stared at me, his jewel tone eyes made darker by the fresh tears that were threatening to fall.

"Of course there is another. I am married and my wi-wife gives me more than I need." His words were weak and I knew he was lying through his teeth.

"I find that hard to believe." I scoffed and thoguht back to the scene earlier where she practically molested me.

"How dare you question me? I do not have to explain my actions to you. You have your freedom now take it and be happy!" He tried to move off the bed but the moment he put weight on his ankle it buckled and he pitched forward. I reached out quickly and pulled him into my lap, biting my lip to keep from sighing as he wiggled around to face me.

"Matthew, let me go, I demand it of you!" He spat, his eyes wide and shimmering.

"I will, when you tell me what I want to know."

"Who are you to give me orders? I'm your master and I demand you let me go."

"I will, once you tell me the truth."

He closed his eyes, seeming to fight internally as silent tears coursed down his hot cheeks.

"I...I can no longer bring myself to subject you to something you do not desire. I--I undertand now." He said quietly. He dropped his eyes from me, his fair brows drawn together, the expression on his face simply miserable. "I can not stand her. She throw herself at me, to-touching, demanding, trying to draw from me things I do not feel. I never imagined it to be so awful! I thought I could pretend but nothing I do, no thoughts I entertain, no matter how bloody ha-ha-hard I try...I...can not...sate her needs. I do not know wha-what is wrong with me! Her words are right, I am pathetic. I am a failure of a man." His last words twisted themselves with his tears, hiccupped out with his sobbing. "Ah! Why am I telling you this, I am at my wits end! I t'would rather crawl into my grave than slink back to her, I have let her lay hands on me, as though I was merely a helpless woman--she has tossed me from my own home! I am miserable, completely. T'would better off if I left you all and met the wrath of God, get a quick start to my damnation..." He trailed off, and closed his eyes, tears falling quietly.

I did not know what possessed me to do it--maybe it was the way he seemed more human--but I tilted his head up and kissed him. Hesitantly at first, I was not quite sure what I was doing or why but I just held him; gently caressing his lips with mine as my hands rubbed light circles on his back. After a couple minutes I pulled away, my own brows furrowed and my lips tingling pleasantly.

"I-I'm sorry m'lord." I sat him down and moved from the bed and paced near the door as I tried to make sense of what I had just done. I hated that man—did I not? I shook my head and opened the door. I turned to him before going through it.

"You can sleep here for the night."

"What about you?" His voice wavered, and not for the first time did I compare him to a woman, only this time it was not mockingly.

"I shall find a haystack to call home tonight."

"Stay with me?" The soft words made me freeze, they were barely audible. My heart was suddenly beating triple time as I thought about lying next to him in the darkness. I wanted to spit some degrading name at him, yet as I opened my mouth to do so, his lower lip trembled and I found myself crawling in next to him; gently wrapping him in my arms.

"Thank you." He whimpered.

I held him until he drifted to sleep, confused as to why I rather enjoyed the feel of his face pressed into my chest and his hair soft against my neck.