Taken by the Baron: A Novella Read online

  “You’re awake,” he remarked as he sat on the bed to pull his boots on.

  Amanda jumped. She hadn’t realized he had noticed her. She hoped he hadn’t seen her staring at him a moment ago.

  “We’re leaving in half an hour,” he told her. “Dress yourself so we can eat before our carriage departs.”

  In the light of day, all her embarrassment from the evening before flooded back. Her nightgown was so thin, the outline of her body was clearly visible through the white cotton. If she got out from beneath the covers to dress in front of Descamps, he would see everything.

  The thought made her blush fiercely and she longed to tug the covers over her head and hide away until he left. But the look on her husband’s face told her he would brook no disagreements. Determining that she might as well get this over with, Amanda hurried out of bed. She gathered her outfit for the day and, facing the wall, dressed as quickly as she could, aware that her husband’s eyes were on her the whole time.

  She tried futilely to tighten the lacing of her corset, but it was no good. She just couldn’t reach them behind her back. As he had the night before, Descamps walked over to her and tightened them for her without a word. He stabilized one hand on her back while the other pulled the laces tight. The warmth of his palm permeated through her cotton shift to the skin beneath. He buttoned her gown up for her as well, and Amanda was aware of his nearness all the while.

  Amanda finished the rest of her morning routine with record time, putting up her hair in a messy knot on top of her head and shoving her feet into the first pair of boots she could find. Descamps didn’t seem to care a whit that she wasn’t fashionably dressed.

  “Come along, wife,” Descamps said when she had finally finished. Amanda must have looked startled for he added impatiently, “Well you are my wife, are you not?”

  She nodded quickly and scurried after him.

  * * *

  There were several more days’ journey in the carriage ahead of them before they were to reach their destination. It soon became clear that Descamps had no desire to shift from the routine they had established yesterday.

  During the day, they rode together silently in the carriage, except for the times when Amanda screwed up her courage to ask her husband a few questions about him and his estate. She soon picked up on a pattern. He would humor her with answers for the first few questions, but before too long would grow short-tempered again, upon which time Amanda would settle back into silence. A few more hours would pass and then she would ask him something else. She made a game of it so she wouldn’t be reminded of how utterly depressing this all was.

  In the evenings, Descamps was true to his word. He made no more attempts to touch her, and soon Amanda felt comfortable enough to undress in front of him and sleep next to her husband.

  It was still several months away from spring and the rooms were cool. The heated bricks the servants placed at the foot of their bed soon cooled and the heat of the fireplace didn’t permeate all the way to their bed. The baron’s body, although a foot away from her on the other side of the bed, emanated warmth, and she soon grew to appreciate his presence, if only for that reason.

  Once, she woke in the middle of the night. The baron was sleeping with his back to her, and Amanda, feeling a chill, scooted herself until she was only a few inches away from him. Not touching, but close enough to feel his warmth spill over her. When she woke the following morning, Descamps had already arisen, so she wasn’t sure if he had noticed her movements during the night or not.

  After a few days of this routine, she was weary of travel and longed desperately for a bath. It was with some relief that she heard the baron finally say they had arrived at their destination.

  “Well, wife,” Descamps said as an imposing structure appeared in the distance, “welcome to Highmount Castle.”

  Amanda stared straight ahead and gulped. As they got nearer, it was clear the building looked as menacing as its name. It truly was a castle, large and imposing, with cruel, pointed spires and flying buttresses.

  The castle was at least 500 years old, she guessed, and although it looked to be well maintained, there was nothing that had been done to modernize the exterior or make it feel the least bit homey. Trailing ivy crawled along the walls and over some of the windows, giving the place an abandoned air.

  The baron must have somehow sent word of their arrival ahead of their carriage, because the entire staff was lined out on the front lawn to greet their master and new mistress. Was it just Amanda’s imagination, or did they all look meek and depressed?

  Then again, what did she possibly know about the way a great household like this was run? Perhaps that was the sign of a well-bred servant. Her own family had been too poor to afford much help.

  The baron jumped from the carriage elegantly, then held out a calloused hand to help Amanda descend as well. The touch of his fingers shot a jolt of sparks up her arm and she almost yelped and pulled her hand back, but thankfully she restrained herself. It would be so embarrassing to make a fool of herself in front of the servants so soon after her arrival.

  Her husband led her inside and the rows of servants bowed and curtsied as she passed them. Amanda longed to run over to them and ask what they really thought of their master. Was he truly as mad and cruel as the rumors said?

  Amanda gulped. Well, she would be discovering that soon enough.

  The massive entry hall was several stories high, with a tall, echoing ceiling and ribbed vaults. Amanda felt small and unimportant standing there in that cavernous space. The baron quickly led her through it and up the impressive staircase several flights to the third-floor landing.

  He took her along several hallways and winding passages, still holding onto her hand. Amanda hurried along to keep pace with his long strides. She would never remember how to find her way back to the entrance hall. It would probably take weeks until she could wander these halls without getting lost.

  She thought back wistfully to her parents’ modest yet comfortable cottage. It was nothing like the damp, cold, dark hallway she was struggling to keep up in.

  The baron came to an abrupt halt in front of a door and let go of Amanda’s hand.

  “These will be your chambers,” he said. “The door on the right leads to your dressing room. The one on the left will bring you to my bedchamber.”

  She blushed to think that her husband might be using that left door soon.

  Descamps went on. “The servants will make sure that your belongings are brought up here and put away. I shall see you at supper.” He checked his pocket watch. “We eat in three hours.” He turned around as if to leave.

  Amanda had stood still during this torrent of information, but now she spoke. “Wait! You’re just going to leave me here? What am I supposed to do until evening?”

  He stared coldly at her. “Take a nap. Go exploring. What you do is none of my concern.”

  And he spun on his heel and walked back the way they had come.

  Amanda could only watch her husband go. She was feeling a mixture of relief that she wouldn’t have to spend more time in his company and hurt that he would abandon her in a strange place so soon after their arrival.

  Any remaining hopes she’d held of having a happy marriage were finally dashed. Amanda had to get it into her mind: this marriage between them was a contract and nothing more. She would have to find a way to come to peace with that.

  Amanda entered the bedroom, only to confirm that it was as depressing as the rest of the castle. As expected, it was incredibly spacious. The furnishings looked to be in excellent condition and, judging from their quality, they were expensive. The four-poster bed against the wall was impressive, but it didn’t look a bit comfortable.

  There was nothing cheery or welcoming about the room at all. Even the fireplace’s glow couldn’t warm the cold space.

  As it turned out, Amanda wasn’t to be alone for long though. A single knock on the door announced the arrival of a woman in her late twe
nties. Her pale blonde hair was tied up tightly beneath a white cap. The woman would have been very pretty if not for the scarring which had ravaged her face. Pox, perhaps?

  The woman curtsied to Amanda.

  “My name is Sara Turner, my lady. I’m to be your lady’s maid.” She spoke in quiet, crisp tones.

  Amanda’s family had never been able to afford a dedicated lady’s maid. Whenever there was a service she or her sisters couldn’t do themselves, they enlisted the help of one of the scullery maids to assist them. The experience was so foreign that Amanda’s first instinct was to dismiss Sara and tell her that her services wouldn’t be needed.

  But she was a baroness now. Amanda had to keep telling herself that so she wouldn’t forget. Her husband would expect a level of elegance she was not used to, and she must do her best not to disappoint him. And anyway, it had been so long since Amanda had seen a friendly face that she was reluctant to get rid of the one in front of her now.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Amanda said instead, hoping she sounded more confident and collected than she felt.

  “I imagine you’d like a warm bath after all those days spent traveling,” Sara said. “One is being prepared for you now, as we speak.”

  Amanda clapped her hands together in gratitude. “That would be divine!” she exclaimed. Perhaps she wouldn’t feel quite so glum with all these layers of dirt and grime removed from her skin.

  “And then I imagine you’ll want some help dressing for supper afterward, my lady?” Sara asked her.

  “Yes, that would be appreciated,” Amanda said. A thought struck her. “Oh! But I have nothing to change into. My belongings have not yet been brought upstairs.”

  “Not to worry, my lady. I’ll see to it,” Sara assured her. The woman curtsied again and left the room.

  Sure enough, she returned only a few minutes later, several manservants trailing behind her carrying Amanda’s heavy trunks and several more carrying a large porcelain bathtub between them. It was several more minutes before enough hot water had been poured into the tub and it was ready for use. With Sara’s help, Amanda undressed and climbed into the water. The temperature was just right.

  She settled in and let the water lapping across her skin soothe away the stress of the past week.

  Amanda left for supper a few hours later feeling moderately better than she had when she’d first arrived. The furnishings could be replaced. She would ask her husband for something with bright, bold colors. Yellows and greens would be just the thing. And a large, plush rug to cover the stone floors. Perhaps a few decorative wall hangings. That would add cheer and warmth to the room. Life in this castle didn’t have to be all gloominess and dark.

  3

  Chapter 3

  The light had already left the sky went Amanda went down to supper. The flickering glow of candles lit the hallways, casting everything into deep shadow. If there weren’t so many servants moving to and fro, it would have felt almost spooky.

  As it was, Amanda got lost twice on her way down to the dining room. Both times, she had to stop and ask a passing servant for directions. Her happier mood dissipated during the meal, however. Her husband was already waiting in the dining room and he glanced up at her entrance, eyes running dispassionately along her person.

  Amanda blushed. She had tried to look nice, but after several days spent on the road, she was not at her best. Judging by his critical gaze, she guessed her husband thought so, too.

  She took several deep breaths to push back the hurt and went to her seat. The baron hadn’t married her for her looks; she knew that, and yet she couldn’t prevent the yearning of wanting her husband to think her pretty.

  Such a silly, childish notion. If he had wanted a pretty wife, he could have married one. No, for whatever reason, he had chosen her. Amanda just wished she knew what that reason was.

  Descamps was silent throughout the entire meal, except when she attempted to engage him in conversation. Then he would offer brusque answers before resuming his food. Amanda had grown used to this by now, and it no longer phased her.

  “I thought I could update my new bedchamber,” she ventured at last. “Perhaps give it a more feminine touch. If that’s all right with you, my lord?”

  Descamps stared at her for a few moments. “Your room displeases you?” he asked in a low voice.

  Amanda’s heart fell. She had only been here a few hours and she had already managed to insult her husband’s home. She stumbled over her words, trying to explain she had meant no offense, but the baron brushed that aside. Descamps motioned one of the footmen over to their table.

  “James, be sure to assist my lady wife with whatever she needs for this project. Help her make over the entire castle, if it pleases her.”

  The footman, James, nodded and then returned to his post while the baron resumed his meal. And that was that. Descamps did not seem interested in following up with her on what changes she wished to make. And Amanda did not want to inadvertently insult him by pursuing the subject.

  After dinner, Amanda, feeling the lonely, exhausting weight of the last few days, rose and made her apologies.

  “If you don’t mind excusing me early, my lord, I don’t feel quite myself tonight,” she said quietly. “The journey has worn me out,” she fibbed.

  “Good night then,” Descamps said, waving her away.

  Amanda returned up the stairs to her cold and dark bedroom. So this was to be the rest of her life. A loveless marriage with a man who could not be bothered with her.

  Sara came in shortly thereafter and helped Amanda undress for bed. When the maid had left, Amanda contemplated taking some time to write a letter to her mother and sisters to let them know she had arrived safely, but she decided against that.

  Her heart just wasn’t up to it tonight, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to lie convincingly about how she was doing. Even through a letter, her mother was likely to pick up on Amanda’s unhappiness. Why cause her family pain on her behalf? Better to let them believe she could be content here. So the letter would wait.

  Instead, Amanda blew out her candle and lay down in the too-large bed. Sleep did not come easily though. She started at every sound, wondering if it was her husband come to claim his marriage right. Part of her hoped he would, just to get the act over with.

  And a secret part of her even wondered if she might enjoy it. He had promised, after all, that she would. When she thought back to the feel of his mouth on hers that first night…. Amanda shivered. She stayed up late, her conflicted feelings warring within her, but her husband did not join her that night.

  The cold light of dawn awoke Amanda the following morning. She blinked blearily, for a moment forgetting where she was. Then her eyes landed on the closed door that led to her husband’s room and Amanda remembered. She had not heard him come to his bed last night. Perhaps he had spent the night with a mistress, she surmised bitterly. Someone more experienced in the art of love who wouldn’t flinch away from his touch.

  But the baron was awaiting her when Amanda went downstairs to breakfast. It seemed strange to take their meal in the large dining room when it was just the two of them. Perhaps she would ask him if there was a more intimate room to take their breakfasts sometime later. But she would wait.

  It wouldn’t do to give him the impression that she was criticizing every aspect of his home within a day of her arrival.

  “Good morning, wife,” Descamps greeted her as she took the seat to his right at the large table. She wished he wouldn’t call her that. That intimate moniker felt like a mockery. “How did you sleep last night?”

  “Very well,” Amanda lied, helping herself to a piece of toast. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she supposed she would have to eat something.

  “I assume you’re feeling better, since you’ve left your room.”

  “Yes. Thank you, my lord,” Amanda lied again.

  “Then I imagine you’ll want to spend the day getting acquainted with the staff. I
’ll make sure the housekeeper finds you. She can also give you a tour of the castle.”

  “What about you, my lord?” Amanda ventured. She knew it was foolish to feel any more disappointment, but her heart still sank at the news that he was leaving her on her own again.

  “I have business to attend to,” he said brusquely, making it clear that he didn’t want to elaborate what that business was.

  True to his word, the baron abandoned Amanda after breakfast, leaving her alone in the dining room and unsure of what to do next. She had always been so busy back home.

  The few servants her family had been able to afford couldn’t take care of all the chores in the house, and so Amanda and her sisters had been known to help out with the cleaning and the cooking on occasion—a fact that her mother kept as well-hidden as possible. Mrs. Wilberry would have rather died of shame than admit to the neighbors that her daughters did something so common as milk the dairy cows.

  Just as Amanda was wondering whether she should risk getting lost and seek out the housekeeper herself, the woman appeared in the dining room to meet her. An older, chubby woman with a tight bun and stern face, Mrs. Hughes was not nearly as friendly as Sara had been. The housekeeper spoke in clipped, matter-of-fact tones. Amanda supposed it must be very trying to run a large castle like this, with so many staff.

  The woman did not seem very impressed by Amanda. Nor did she appear keen to relinquish the control she had seemed to have in determining the running of the estate while the baron was unmarried. The housekeeper explained what she had planned for the menu for the coming week, but she didn’t act concerned with whether Amanda would have any input in the matter.

  Unwilling to make such a woman her enemy, Amanda merely acceded to everything Mrs. Hughes said to her. Besides, the housekeeper would know her husband better than she did, Amanda reflected gloomily. This brought her an idea.