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Chapter 11

Chris

Another night and I found myself drinking again. I was beginning to find my own home unbearable, between my wifes squawking barbs and biting claws, and then Matthew and all the things that clouded my mind and judgment concerning him. Tonight, it wasn't even the gentlemen's club with Layfield, or McMahon, or Regal where I had ran off to. I had needed something else upon this night, and so I'd left my fine clothes in my wardrobe. My silk and beautiful things which branded me apart from other, lower, cockroaches, were not upon my back this night. I opted only for a white linen tunic and tan breeches, something inconspicuous. I would have looked odd and out of place brandishing fine French tailored clothing in a common, dingy, pub where men with holes for teeth and dirty, over-worked faces sat spilling ale into their beards.

At least here I wouldn't be subjected to Lord Regal asking me again and again about when there were going to be children. There was no Layfield bellowing laughter, nudging my arm, asking how the little woman was, and me being sure there was some joke in his voice, as I thought of Katie's various accusations of who was and wasn't the man of our home.

Here, I could do as I wished. I could just sit at a lonely table in the dark corner, having my mug refilled with ale as a buxom bar-made passed and winked at me, and maybe if I was sauced enough I'd wink back just to pretend she interested me in the least. I wish I could say different—that she really did draw my attention--how many times I have wished for such a simple feeling, but my desires are none that she could sate.

When she came around once more, I gave her a small smile. She spoke to me a bit, and her accent was so rough edged I could only make out a few words--or maybe it was just the ale. I think she questioned me about why I seemed so sad, but I of course did not give her an answer. I only watched as she trotted back to the bar, and I put my eyes on her round behind as it swayed, almost laughing bitterly that I couldn't have found it any less attractive.

She spoke to a couple of younger girls hovering round the bar. They both sent me devious looking smirks, one with ginger hair in tendrils around her face, the other a dark blond. I ducked my head down in hopes that they would pass me by, but nay. The two stopped at my table, the red-head piled into my lap and the blond began to kneed my shoulders, as she bent close to my ear and whispered of the things the three of us could do, if I was lonely and needed company--to say the least I was flustered and embarrassed at their advances. When I stuttered and tried to decline, the red-head pulled at a ribbon on her dress which was-barely-keeping her chest from assaulting my face.

"No, no please--e-excuse me!"

I babbled as I rose from my seat too quickly, sending the red-head to the floor with a squeak. My knee hit the table, spilling the rest of my ale over my breeches. I started to make my apologies and held my hand out to help her up; but she was smarter than I have ever given credence to their ilk. With a speed that even had I been sober would have doubted, she pulled me down, arching as I landed in that most sacred of places that I have no doubt many men before had been, and more willingly than I. My face colored and I scrambled to my feet, not even bothering to leave any payment on the table for my drinks as my legs carried me as far from the pub as they could in my inebriated state.

Thankfully the small dingy watering hole of the common man wasn't far from my home and I soon wobbled through the ruts that my own wagon and carriage had carved through the years. The cool night air had me tilting my face upwards and I stopped for a moment, savoring the beauty of the inky darkness with its stars winking like thousands of sparkling jewels.

Sadness overwhelmed me and as my feet grew suddenly leaden of their weary trek back towards the manor. I started thinking over the complete misery that my once privileged life had become. A loveless marriage I could deal with, after all my mother didn't hold any affection for my own father; but the contempt and blatant disregard in which I was treated was beyond the scope of my reasoning--ale addled or not. The fact of the matter was that the dear Lady Katherine should be on her knees thanking me for doing her a great service my taking her spiteful hand in marriage. Had she actually been a debutante I have no doubt that she'd not have found a suitor neither this year, nor the year after or even the year after. She simply oozed a contempt for mankind that had it not been turned on me every minute of every day, I think I would have envied her for.

Then of course, the thought of her on her knees at all made me grimace and I shook my head like a horse with flies buzzing around its velvety ears. That thought, mingled with the sudden scent of the stables that had come out of seemingly nowhere, sent my thoughts in another direction--to another dark haired distraction. However, this one was much more welcomed, even if he hated me. Thinking of his dark eyes, I looked back up to the raven sky. Once more the beauty of it ensnared me and I couldn't explain the sudden desire to have Matthew at my side as we watched the sky. The thought of him sitting next to me, whether he talked or not, made me hasten my footsteps and before long the manor loomed in my vision.

Like a thief in the night I skirted the large house; noting that a light burned in my study. That harpy has probably completely wrecked and 'redone' it. Even that dismal thought couldn't dislodge the droll little grin that had worked its way onto my face as I drew closer to the stable. The sound of voices, however, stopped me and I moved back into the shadows; not wanting anyone to see me--although if they did I had doubts they would recognize me.

After listening, I noticed that the voices belonged to Darla and Adam. They were bickering playfully as they walked; Adam obviously trying to charm my winsome cook into a roll in the hay. Once they were gone from my sight and I could no longer hear them I started my path again, hurrying towards the servant quarters and shifting from foot to foot as I stared at Matt's door. What if he was not there? Worse yet, what if he was in, but had company? That thought unleashed something that had me growling—jealously in its most basic form--and I pounded heavily on his door, my face set in a hard scowl as I waited for him to open it.

Just as I had thought of leaving, that he was surely out or in a dead sleep, he opened the door. I was thankful because the thought of wandering my grounds alone in the darkness did not really set well, although a wolf on the prowl in the misty moors would have likely been more welcome than the beast prowling inside the walls of my home. The look of his face as he opened the door brought a soft smile to my lips. His dark curls were down over his shoulders, some stuck to the side of his face, and before thinking I brushed them away with my fingers. He flinched back and blinked at me from eyes crusted and heavy with sleep. I felt a bit sorry for waking him at such an hour, but I dearly wanted his company, and in that I was perhaps selfish. But after all, he was in my employ, and so I was entitled to call upon him whenever he was needed, should he be asleep or not. Still, I thought about apologizing, and leaving him to fall back to his dreams. He furrowed his brow; his eyes squinted as he coughed to clear his throat.

"M'lord?" The word was growled, yet it the growl of a voice that had long since gave up its use while its owner found peace in slumber. "Be there something wrong sire?" He prodded when I didn't say anything. I collected myself and shook my head, opening my mouth and send him back to his bed, but my tongue had other ideas.

"Nay, nothing be wrong, I merely wanted some company this eve as I wander the grounds."

My voice brooked no argument even though my words had made the sentence sound like a request rather than the order it was. Matthew's eyes widened and he shook his head; his mass of dark curls flying wantonly around his face.

"Sire, if I'm not mistaken wouldn't this be better put off until the dawns light touches the grounds so that we may see where we're going?"

"The moonlight is enough." I said quietly.

I disliked the wobble of the alcohol, and perhaps my emotions in my voice as I extended my hand to him, afraid that he would not take it. After a moment of hesitation, he placed his hand in mine, warm and work-worn. I curled my fingers through his, and led him across the soft grass. As I suspected he would be, he was silent as we walked slowly. My steps as I led him towards our destination seemed at times unsure, and I knew it was from drinking too much, but did not really care. A couple times I felt his hand, discretely at my back, when I stumbled over my feet. He spoke once again, voicing that perhaps our trek was not such a good idea, but that did not stop me from making it.

At last, we reached the edge of the pond that I enjoyed in the summer, sometimes to read by, other times to just watch the silvery water shimmer, and the geese honk about with their line of young behind them. Right now the only sound was a lone frog croaking now and again. It was serene, and peaceful. I untwined my fingers from Matthews and sat down in the grass, just watching the moonlight wink from the placid surface. After a few moments, I traded that for a different view, stretching out on my back and staring up at the velvety sky.

"Matthew..."

I squinted my eyes at the stars as they shimmered, beginning to blur as my eyes teared up, and I was angry for those tears. I was not some meek, emotional woman that I should cry over such things as the sky at night. Yet still, looking at it, just made me feel impossibly small and lonely, even with Matthew there, because I knew he was not with me because he desired it.

"Why would the Almighty waste His time creating such a weak and disgusting creature as mankind, when He can create something as simply dazzling as the stars in the sky? What meaning is there in our creation and existence? Have we been placed here only to suffer under His eye at the hands of our own weaknesses...or is it only I?"

Silence enveloped us, but for that loan frog croaking softly. I wished he would have said something, but he was still and quiet. I felt a fool for dragging him from sleep, to be here with me, when he seemed as though he woudl rather be anywhere else at this moment. At last, I could only sigh. My loneliness was bearing down upon my heart, and I was ashamed at the wet tears streaking my face in the darkness. I had cried in front of him once before and perhaps he thought the same of me as my wife did for doing so. I hoped when I spoke, my voice sounded firm and steady.

"You're dismissed Matthew." I said to the darkness, waving my hand, though I doubt he could see it in the shadows.

"I do not believe that you are the only one that suffers a fate that isn't one you'd pick for yourself."

I was startled that he finally spoke, his voice still raspy. I rolled over to my side and watched as he pulled his long legs up and wrapped his arms about them as if embracing a lost lover; his chin resting on the top as he looked out over the mirror like surface of the pond.

"There are many who would choose to be in a place far different than that in which they are in, yet they do what they can to make the best of it."

I felt my chest tightening; surely Matthew was speaking of himself, wishing to be away from my home—far, far away. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he continued on.

"Yet there are those who wouldn't want to be anywhere, or anything other than what they are as of this moment. But such things are not for us to judge, after all in the good book it says that for our troubles and tribulations we will be rewarded a spot among the angels."

His voice died away and I furrowed my brow, it had to be the drink in my mind that seemed to give Matthew a regal sound this night. I couldn't for the life of me remember a time when he'd said so much and in such a way that if he were but dressed better could have passed for one of my peers.

"A place among the angels? Not for men like me." I said quietly, wiping at my eyes. I sat up, and crawled over closer to where he sat, hoping he wouldn't move away from me.

"Nor for me, yet it sounds comforting. I know my brother has a place among them." His voice wobbled and he turned his head to look at me, his hair blowing around his face on the soft breeze that had just kicked up. "I fear that I shall dance amongst the devils for all the trouble I have gotten myself into," His voice was steadier, but the moon light caught the track of a tear that had slipped from his eyes. "Of course the devil himself may not want me either. I might be doomed to an eternity to walk this earth, alone."

His voice was still sad but it was obvious that he was trying to joke himself out of the black mood that had enveloped him. I found my eyes trained to his, as they filled with a shean of tears, and I thought that if The Father damned the soul of this beautiful, perfect creature, to walk an eternity of unrest on the earth—well then, at least he would not be alone. I would be sure The Almighty matched my sentence to his.

"Matthew..." My voice had almost escaped me, with emotion welling in my throat. "Matthew I'm sorry. I have only increased the burdens of your heart by my selfish actions." I found his hand in the darkness, and touched it for a moment, squeezing gently. "It was not, nor is it my intention to encumber you with such pains."

"Some things are meant to happen." His voice was still soft, but the sad edge had all but disappeared and the grinned in spite of myself when he squeezed back before disentangling our fingers. "Had it not been you that day, who paid my price, there is no telling where I might have ended up." He fell quiet again, "Besides, your burdens are much heavier than mine."

Long moments seemed to have past when both of us were so silent. The alcohol was weighing heavier and heavier, the feel and taste of it cottony and numb in my mouth. My eyes were starting to droop, the white glittering dots in the sky began to blur.

"Matthew, Dearest love, won't you he-'elp me up to the 'ouse?"

My sentence ended with a hiccup, and a burning sensation twisting its way up and then back down my throat. I could have gotten to my feet on my own, but I so wanted to feel his strong arms curl around me, and envelope me in their warmth. He did as I asked, and stood me up. His arm stayed at my back, holding me close to his side as the pair of us made our way over the soft ground back towards my home. A smile was stretched broadly across my face, and I was a bit glad it was hidden in the dark for surely I looked as silly as a smitten girl.

When we reached the house, I did not want him to leave. My fingers found the strings hanging from the open neck of his shirt and the cottony tendrils curled around my fingers. I wanted to press my lips to his, or even better, for him to duck his head to capture mine. But in the shadows, his handsome, dark eyes glittered with a hard resolve, and so I only stroked his cheek.

"Thank you Matthew, you are too kind. Good night."

Katie Lea

I could not believe that he was out again! Was it not bad enough the way he behaved most of the time, that he also had to go off, while I was stuck here in the drab, bore of a home with absolutely nothing at all to do? Of course, I'd tried again for that beautiful, dark haired stallion in my dear husbands keeping but the brute would not have me. He obviously does not know a fine woman when she's presented.

I pulled the brush through my hair again, letting the dark locks fall over my shoulders. I paced the room, waiting for a slam of the door or a creak of the stair which would alert me to that rat of a man sneaking and stumbling back in. He does not know his place, that is all too apparent. His mother has surely failed him in bringing him up as a gentleman or a man at all. Were that lovely woman with us still, I would have certainly had words with her—and not soft ones. Perhaps I could make a man of him yet, though with each passing day my doubts grew stronger.

Once more my mind wandered back to the stallion in my husband's stable; his curly ebony mane wild about his shoulders as he pitched the hay, his rumbling voice as he called out orders to those under him. Of course there was but one problem with my yearning; if I should quicken with his child there wouldn't nary a way to pass it off as my husbands. Yes, I had dark hair, yet my eyes were blue so if the child were to come with Matthews coloring t'would bring shame upon the house. While I could care less about the Duke's good name, I would never drag my family's name through the muck.

I sat the brush back down and pursed my lips, my index finger tapping lightly as I thought. It was so simple, the answer had been staring me right in the face! Christian. Yes, my husband's valet. He bore enough resemblance to my husband that I could pass of a child of his as one from my husband; and then there was the foot man, Copeland. He too had the blond locks and light eyes that my husband possessed. I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in my throat. No one would be the wiser to my dabbling, except for he and I should a child result--but with his water-like spine he would never have the gall to air my infidelity in the open. T'would be the ultimate sword in his side, to have to watch as some other mans--some servants--son took control of what his family had worked so hard to build.

With that in mind, and my husband nowhere to be found, I slipped out of the room and padded down the grand staircase, mind set on finding one of those handsome blonds in my arms tonight. My trek was cut short, when I entered the kitchen and saw my husband slumped in one of the chairs, draped over the table and snoring like an idiot. I slapped him in the back of the head, fool, and he barely twitched. Well, he'd obviously worn himself out doing something or someone and why it was not me I wouldn't know. But no matter, I'd rather have a real man bucking against me, not one in training. I left him slouched over the table and noted that I'd have to scold him over it in the morning. Oh, I would be sure to really make his head ache.

I left the house and moved quickly through the night towards the servants' quarters. I could not quite remember where each man or woman slept, and only hoped the door I was knocking at belonged to one of the gorgeous blonds and not that big bald oaf Christopher keeps around. I waited for someone to come to the door, and pulled a couple of pins from my hair. The dark curls fell free around my face, and I shook them a little, and put on my best alluring smirk.

The minutes seemed to trudge by and I could not help the agitation that caused me to knock again; harder and faster this time. From the inside I heard the sound of voices and I furrowed my brow, it was surely past the middle of the night, no one should be out of their beds this hour. Well with the exception of myself; but I had urgent business to attend too. The light sounds of scuffling feet floated through the door and soon it was cracked open. The long blonde locks framed the green eyes of my husband's carriage driver, who stood staring at me in confusion.

"M'lady be there something wrong?" He asked, his voice pitching in sound.

"Nay Copeland, there is nothing wrong this eve." I dropped my voice down until it was sultry purr. "Oh, there is something, but I believe you can help me remedy it." I dropped my eyes to the hay covered floor, biting my lip and managing to blush slightly.

"Whatever it is wrong Mistress, you can be assured that I'm at your disposable." He made this too easy for me. I flicked my tongue against my lips.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

He looked a bit surprised. His emerald eyes widened at first, but then they creased to merry little slits and his lips took up a cocky smirk, as he bobbled his head and leaned in the doorway.

"I'm sure you were hoping I would do more than say, m'lady."

His strong, warm hands wrapped around my waist and moved me into his small living quarters. He shut the door and turned to me with a wolfish expression that set my blood to fire. He growled as he made his way to me, obviously unconcerned that I was the wife of his master. I never knew he was so daring, but the sure confidence of his movements excited me. He was so more a man than my gelatinous husband could be.

His lips captured mine roughly, and I sought his desperately, purring into his open mouth as our tongues dueled like skilled fencers. His hands were all over me, under my dressing gown, groping and probing. It was simply magnificent, and animalistic as our teeth bit and clashed. Soon we were both rid of our clothing and his hot, hard, arousal was pressed against my belly. He backed me to the bed, and we both crashed down, panting and moving against each other in complete passion. Very soon, it was over. The adulterous adventure was finished and I lay sticky and nude against his muscled arms, just stroking them. If he was now regretting what he'd done, he didn't say it. When I looked up at him he was only still wearing that cocky smirk, and I kissed it.

"Shall we dance again another night?" I purred against his ear.

"Mistress, that is entirely up to you, but I assure you that my dance steps will always be ready for you, should you wish to waltz."

He pushed the hair away from my face and captured my lips again; gently this time, his tongue twinning slowly with my mine. With a satisfied sigh I melted into his embrace. I did not want this to be over, but I knew that the dawn was on its way to chase the night back to its resting place.

He laughed and moved from the bed first, grabbing my gown and holding it for me, a gentlemanly smile on his face even though we both know that he is far from that. Dressing was unhurried, kisses being stolen as hands wandered and teased. Soon I was heading across the yard, the pale sunlight chasing my heels as I rushed. Gasping slightly for breath I quietly made my way past my still slumbering husband and almost tripped as I practically flew up the stairs. I barely made it to my room and back into my bed before my maid entered; whistling cheerily as she threw open the drapes.

"Good morning mistress. I pray the night found you well?"

"The night has found me well." I answered, as I rose from bed and feigned a yawn. I turned my back to her, and my lips twitched into a grin. "Very well, indeed."