Semua Bab Promised to the father, married to the son: Bab 11 - Bab 20

*Skye* After the dinner is finished me and my new husband retreats to the library, where he pours us both a glass of port. Outside his father is sending off the priest, thanking him for his work. We sit down in front of the fireplace, the silence creeping in on us like fog, the only sound in the room being the cracking of the burning logs. But for some reason, even here in front of the roaring flames I feel oddly cold. My husband has been watching me every second of the evening, like he expects me to sneak off and steal the family jewels or something else nefarious. He still thinks of me as nothing but a gold digger, but it is nothing about his money and all about the protection his name and status provides. I realise he might be undressing me in his mind, but why should he bother when he can drag me off to the bedroom and simply do it for real ? From the heated kisses we shared earlier I will expect our intimacy to be rather rough and quick … not to mention repeated often. I ha

*Ben* I don’t know why I bother to run. I know exactly where I will find my father, where I always find him eventually. At my mother’s grave. Until tonight, I had never understood why my father had insisted on burying my mother near a tree on our property instead of in the graveyard beside the church in the village where all our previous ancestors are resting. But after hearing the tale at supper, I am left to wonder if it is that tree in which my father had first met the girl who would eventually become the love of his life. When I see my father nearing the grave, knowing he is going straight there and isn’t planning to wander about the moors, I slow to a walk. The moon is bright enough that I haven’t bothered with a lantern. I fight not to be irritated with the interruption. I had certainly not wanted to abandon my bride, although I suspect curiosity has gotten the better of her and she has glanced out the window to see father and son darting across the moors as though the hounds o

*Skye* I can’t remember the last time I slept so deeply, so soundly. Feeling completely rested is almost enough to make me believe I am safe. With a low moan and a languorous stretch I slowly open my eyes to a room bathed in faint light and my husband at the mirror, slowly guiding a straight razor up his neck and over his chin. He is wearing only trousers. My mouth goes dry as I take in the sight of his broad shoulders and muscled back. I had seen and felt the evidence that he doesn’t spend his days lounging about, but still the perfection of his tanned physique is a bit unsettling. Not an ounce of excess fat on him. He is all corded muscle, ropy sinews, and strength. I am quite mesmerized observing the play of his muscles as he shaves. “You’re awake, I see”. His warm voice slices through the quiet. My gaze slams into his, reflected in the oval mirror hanging above the washstand, and I wonder how long he might have been watching me. My cheeks warm up. “You didn’t wake me for my ba

*Skye* I have to take such care in answering his questions that it is trying beyond measure. There has never been a husband. I am not a widow. But there had been a love, what I thought was a grand love. What a fool I had been. I am not going to make the mistake of falling in love again. He has no interest in it and neither do I. Which should have made us perfect for each other. Instead it serves to tie my stomach into knots. I could have compelled the old man into caring for me. I do not stand a chance of doing that with his obstinate son. Yet I feel this insane urge to be as honest as I can with him. If he ever discovers the full truth, he will at least see that I had limited my deception as much as I was able to. Of course, if he discovers the full truth, it would all be moot, as he is likely to kill me anyway. Put those strong hands of his about my neck and choke the very life from me. But I can’t worry about the future. I have to concentrate on the present. And presently he is

*Ben* It is late afternoon by the time I, covered in sweat and grime, stride into the kitchen. I don’t know why I believe that if I work in the mines alongside the miners that fortune is more likely to smile on them and they will discover a tin-rich vein after two years of nothing. It had made the men uncomfortable when I first began digging beside them. I am their boss, the CEO of the company, born into the rich upper class. It had taken them a while to accept my help, my determination. But I enjoy stretching my muscles, pushing myself to the limit of near physical exhaustion. It keeps my mind from traveling the path of despair. Today it has kept me from breaking my promise to my wife that the day belongs to her. I shouldn’t have kissed her before I walked out, because her taste stayed with me far too long, it kept my body tense and in need until I went down into the pits where there is always a danger that I will not come out. So perhaps my father has the right of it. I really