Dark Sonata Page 4

  Did he look shocked? Mad even? She couldn’t tell. It was as if he was having an inner battle of some sort. Had she done something wrong? That was a silly concern for she was positive she had done everything wrong.

  But she wanted more of him, and hated that.

  He suddenly reached around her and forcefully grabbed the reins, kicking his stallion into motion. Victoria didn’t even have time to scream, only just to hang on for dear life. His mount was pounding the ground with its massive hooves, moving faster than she thought a horse could gallop. It seemed like only seconds past before they were at the back entrance of the manor, where the stables were located.

  “Save me a dance, princess,” was all he whispered in her ear before he deposited her on the ground with shaking limbs.

  She felt like she was being dumped off after he had his way with her, a worthless whore after a good tossing. The rudeness was astounding. Victoria looked up at him, gaining courage the farther away she was from him. “You sir, are no gentlemen,” she hissed.

  His silver gaze glittered down at her and a dark smile spread over his lips. “I never claimed to be, love. And I didn’t hear you complain.” And with the deftly hand of a magician, he whipped the cloak from her clutch. Victoria was temporally stunned. She gasped and fell instantly to her knees, trying desperately to cover herself from his view. Breathing hard, Victoria looked daggers up at him; if looks could kill he would have been slaughtered.

  Her breath suddenly caught when she saw the dark spark in his eyes as his gaze roamed over her very deliberately. She felt her face flush and her body started to hum. She pushed the tremors aside and tried her best to keep her wounded pride in tack, for whatever reason she didn’t know. “I will never make that mistake again, my Lord. You’ll understand if I think you are truly vile inside and out, and I should hope to never have the pleasure of your company again.”

  His booming laughter made her blood boil and her jaw to clench. He regained his composure and bent forward to bow in her direction, the act incredibly mocking. “Well put, love. All we can do it hope.” He winked at her then kicked his stallion and rode off, leaving her with the descending sound of his laughter and the biting cold.

  How dare he!

  Victoria felt a coat being draped over her, and hands that lingered too long on her bare shoulders. Victoria looked up at the stable boy and glared at him, daring him to touch her again. She didn’t even know the boy was present.

  He reddened and looked away, then swallowed visibly. “Forgive me, Miss, but who was that?”

  Chapter three

  “M’lady, come over by the fire so yer hair dries!” Her maid’s vexed tones reverberated throughout the room. “The Duke is furious, thinkin’ that ye caused a big scandal runnin’ about in yer unspeakables!”

  Victoria pulled her bathrobe tighter around her body and bit her lip, silently panicking, staring at the orange inferno across the bedchamber. As the searing flames danced and flickered her mind was elsewhere, lost in her muddled thoughts. Who was the blasted man?! Just the mere thought of him made her anger rise, never mind her tingling limbs and the thought of his masculine beauty. How did she allow herself to act so wanton? Oh, she knew, the man was a master at seduction, weaving an erotic air of illusion. Curse him, she should not give him that much credit, the awful man did not deserve such praise.

  It was a crime that he was so alluring, his dark appeal rivaling legends, she was sure. What a dangerous combination.

  The one thing she was certain of was that the man did do something to her horse and that was apparent. Victoria unclenched her hands and closed her eyes, feeling again what she had before. Yes. It was a vibration, a mild disturbance in the air that didn’t want to be discovered. Something was hiding, watching … lurking.

  “Ouch! How did ye get to be naked out in the cold of the night?!” her maid continued breathlessly, outraged. “Aye, ye be lucky the Duke did na see ye running about like ye lost yer mind. But dona be thinkin’ the Duke will na raise his whip to ye after ye ran after yer horse. Ye outright defied him ye did!” Victoria’s maid put her hands on her generous hips and studied her intently. Sonya was Irish with a temper to match her flaming tresses. The deep wrinkles around her shining emerald eyes suggested wisdom and hard times. She had been with Victoria since she was a babe and knew of her odd feelings and gifts, revealing them to no one. Victoria had always looked upon Sonya as a mother figure, not ever having anyone else to attach to.

  “Do you feel it Sonya?” Victoria whispered, closing her eyes again, holding out her trembling hands.

  “Aye, I feel ye being beaten if ye dona find a husband!” She continued when Victoria said nothing, eyes still closed. “The Duke is furious with ye! You must find a mon to protect ye! You canna show yer face tonight, the Duke has forbidden you to attend the ball! Lass, that is na good,” she muttered gravely, her rapid footsteps heard as she paced the diminutive room.

  “Shhh.” A sheen of sweat glistened on Victoria’s forehead, the more she listened the stronger the tremors became. Her skin felt as though it would burst into a million pieces, the sensation of warning, the immediate danger was pounding through her body vigorously. “Sonya, this is bad,” she got out, her mouth suddenly desiccated.

  The pacing stopped.

  After a moment Sonya spoke next to her, “What are ye feelin’?” The seriousness was laced through her concerned tone. Sonya always took her gifts very gravely for Victoria had never been wrong in the past, always being able to predict certain events and even odd turns in the weather.

  Victoria opened her lids to gaze into Sonya’s eyes, her heart pounding. “I feel evil, like nothing I ever felt before. Something is here, in this house. It’s what’s been meddling with the animals, I can sense it.” She took a shaky breath. “And it’s suffocating me.”

  Sonya was extremely superstitious as she was Catholic, being converted when she came to England long ago. She quickly made the sign of the cross and kissed her necklace of the Virgin Mary, whispering a prayer. “Aye. Evil, I feel it as well. ‘Tis not just infectin’ the animals, everyone seems to be on edge, very angry. Which is why ye need to stay away from the Duke.”

  Victoria nodded then hurried over to the window with a thought in mind. Her breath fogged up the glass pane, her eyes searching for any signs of irate animals harassing people. She scowled. It was just darkness. Nothing seemed to be stirring for all of the guests appeared to be already inside. Had the dogs suddenly calmed like her horse?

  “The ball has started a while ago, it’s half past ten M’lady.”

  Victoria cursed when she thought about the ball. Rotting hell. She could never show her face again. “I bet I am the talk of the night, the Crazy White Witch at it again.”

  Sonya stirred the fire not saying anything for a moment, her back to Victoria. “Nay, ‘tis not about ye they speak of.”

  Victoria whipped around to stare at Sonya, patiently waiting for her to expound. When nothing came she asked impatiently, “Who?!”

  “Ye haven’t heard then? The mon who saved everyone from the wild animals, he’s a bit of a hero. Everyone is talkin’ ‘bout him, the handsome devil. I seen the mon from a distance and he is different, he dresses very … different. He must not be from ‘ere. But, the mon turned a bad situation into a good one, the Duke is thrilled at least ‘bout that. ‘Tis all the servants can talk ‘bout.”

  Victoria paled, her heart starting a slow thump.

  “His name is Lord Stone, Ezra Stone. Aye, I believe everyone was sayin’ that.” She turned, dusting some soot off of her wool dress and spoke, “Now, he would be a fine catch indeed. But, I fear the Duke wants him fer Lady Henrietta. The mon is wealthy, that is apparent …”

  “No!” Victoria blurted, not believing her ears.

  Sonya tensed then frowned up at her.

  Victoria pointed at nothing, her hand shaking. “T… that’s him!”

  “Who’s him?”

  She shook her head in frustration
like Sonya was daft. “The man who saved me from Brat! The one who kiss …” Victoria clamped a hand over her big mouth.

  Sonya narrowed her eyes at her with a glint of mischief. “Eh? He kissed ye did he? Did the mon also disrobe ye?”

  Moron. She could have left that one detail out. “Well … he was the one who … who calmed Brat by just placing his hand over her,” she quickly continued. “And something is not right about him, I can sense he is very dangerous. What he did was inhuman Sonya. Every bone in my body had recognized him as a threat, a danger to everyone! It’s the evil that I feel.”

  “And he’s ungentlemanly!”

  Victoria flushed not wanting to comment on the shiver that just rushed up her spine.

  “Why did ye not bring him up until now?”

  Victoria looked away, slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know. Well, I wasn’t sure if I believed what I saw; he didn’t appear to be real at first. This man has a certain energy emanating from him that is not natural,” she murmured then shrugged. “I am glad I am not to attend the ball, he frightens me. I don’t know what his intentions are.” She paused. “Was he invited tonight or did he just show up?”

  “Nay, I think he was invited. He is the new Earl of Stone, inherited the title I believe.” Sonya frowned in thought. “But who knows where he was before his inheritance.”

  “Mayhap it is Henrietta he is after then.” Although … He did say to save him a dance. She shivered again at the thought, forcing his intoxicating image from her mind’s eye. He was just being a gentleman by offering to dance with her. She almost laughed, after what she let him do, that is.

  “If what ye say is true then it’s best you stay up here where it’s safe. Especially if the mon took liberties with ye. ‘Tis not a good sign.” Sonya kissed her Virgin Mary again. “Maybe we should go to my grandfather’s cabin, ‘tis not far from here. We should stay out of harm's way, all this talk is makin’ me nervous. You know I have relatives close by.”

  A rapid knock came at the door.

  They both jumped. Sonya visibly swallowed then glanced at Victoria, dread etched into her lightly freckled face. Sonya squared her shoulders and walked over to the door, slowly opening it.

  Jane, Henrietta’s maid came in looking out of breath.

  Jane curtsied and wiped her forehead. “Beg your pardon my Lady,” she muttered, looking past Sonya to Victoria. “But the Duke demands your presence at the ball. His Grace has changed his mind.”

  Victoria shot up. “What?! Why?”

  Jane glared at her. “Apparently, my Lady,” she said with vigor, “Lord Stone personally asked for your attendance and would not take no for an answer. The Duke could hardly deny this absurd demand after he gave Lady Henrietta a diamond and ruby necklace for her birthday. They say the necklace is worth a king’s ransom.”

  Sonya gasped and made the sign of the cross again, mumbling to herself.

  Tunnel vision was starting to set in. Victoria lost her voice, not being able to come up with something intelligent to say back. He demanded my presence? She inwardly screamed, her resolve breaking. Why did she have to let him kiss her?! More importantly, why did he have this interest in her? Why would he demand her presence after giving Henrietta such a grand gift?

  “You have an hour to get ready or his Grace will come up here and fetch you himself,” Jane hissed, not bothering to hide her dislike for Victoria.

  Sonya glared at Jane and walked up to her. “Watch yer tongue missy for I know a mon who’d love to cut it out.”

  Which was true. Sonya knew a lot of rebels from her homeland and often sought them out, many of them being distant family members.

  Flushing, Jane didn’t say another word, not wanting to test the claim. She turned and left, not bothering to shut the door.

  “Ouch, I hate that woman. Thinkin’ she is high nobility.”

  Victoria barely nodded; too stunned to comprehend anything. “Sonya,” she exhaled, “I have an hour to come up with a plan.”

  * * * * *

  Victoria closed her eyes, praying for some sense of calm to wash over her body. Mercy, she must dress for the Devil himself, she was sure of that. The horrid man. Images of him would not stop flashing through her mind even though she tried to stop them. She would lie if she said that her pounding heart was not caused from fear alone, but from anticipation, excitement.

  Curses, she should say a hundred Hail Marys.

  Victoria took a deep breath as she gazed into her full-body mirror. Her royal blue gown glittered in the low lighting; the velvet’s brilliance rivaled the purest of silks. Her hand trailed down the smooth fabric and she closed her eyes, feeling a rush of adrenaline. Would he like the color of the gown? She had been told that the bold color meshed perfectly with her pale hair and icy blue stare. Stop this nonsense Victoria. This is not what ladies thought about. It was highly improper. Victoria threw her head back and almost laughed out loud. Nothing about tonight was proper.

  She checked again at her reflection, breathing to fill her lungs and calm herself.

  Sonya had made this gown for Victoria's eighteenth birthday, wanting her to have the luck of the Irish. The fabric had come from Ireland, one of the only riches Victoria possessed, besides the choker. The hoopskirt flowed graciously around her, the shimmering velvet complementing her pale looks. She raised her hand to the daring square-cut neckline and inwardly smiled in a feline manner. This décolletage alone would make any man dizzy. Her ample cleavage was a vision of enticement, temptation, invitation. Delicate black lace trim unashamedly would draw eyes towards her assets. Oh, this could be very bad …

  She could visualize his gaze.

  Oh for God’s sake! She had a job to do and that was to escape this nightmare of a place. She smoothed out her skirts and ran her hands over the deep sapphire ribbons which adorned the long, slim waistline and continued down into the folds of the hoopskirt.

  She knew that she looked absolutely stunning.

  Her silver hair was pulled back with the same ribbons that adorned her dress with ringlets softening around her heart-shaped face. Her porcelain skin and rose-colored lips had a light dusting of rouge for the final touch. The brilliance of her eyes reflected the sapphire ribbons perfectly. Yes, she was a vision. That was her plan. She desperately wanted to appear vain, snobbish, and rude even. Victoria would portray an utterly boring individual, loving to talk about fashion and the gloomy weather.

  She couldn’t just leave or he may try and track her down and she couldn’t have that. Victoria had no idea what kind of man he was. So, tonight she was just a typical highborn Lady of the ton — London’s elite. Victoria hoped, prayed even, that he would lose his interest in her. The beauty on the outside was not on the inside and she would bore him to death. Yes, he would be running the other way by the time she got done with him. Once he lost his interest she would leave with Sonya, for her life in England was no more.

  If she dared to stay the Duke would show no mercy after the earlier incidents. She would travel to Ireland with Sonya and live a life of peace and hopefully a little adventure!

  “‘Tis been an hour M’lady, ye best go now. I will be waitin’ outside with two horses. Here is yer black mask, put it on now.” She paused, “Are ye sure ‘tis is the best plan? The mon is sure to fall over his feet when he sees ye. He might not mind that ye are borin’,” she pointed out and eyed Victoria’s appearance warily.

  “I have to appear groomed Sonya, like I actually matter in High Society. If I don’t he will catch on, thinking I’m just common whore,” she whispered then flushed. Giving what happened earlier that wouldn’t be hard to deduce. Victoria put on the mask with a deep breath. “Wish me luck, I will need it.”

  Sonya stared after her, kissing her necklace and uttering a prayer.

  * * * * *

  The saunter to the ballroom was a long one, as every bone in her body trembled with uncertainty. On the outside she appeared to be enjoying herself, fanning her face flirtatiously like she was t
hrilled. Yes, I am boring and vain. The weather is my favorite topic. Victoria wanted to get into the part before she entered the ballroom, eager to get this over and done with.

  Victoria was delighted this was a masquerade for it hid her identity from the gossiping mouths of nobility. Not that they couldn’t tell who she was if they looked closely, but it was not as obvious. She hoped that no one told Lord Stone about her being the alleged White Witch for that would surely ruin her plan. No doubt it would spark his interest and he’d see right past her silly talk about the weather. She needed to be typical, despite what he saw earlier in the storm. Her level gaze was wide and searching, eyeing everyone she passed. Victoria was afraid she would see him waiting for her on every turn, but he wasn’t there. She shivered, finally making her way to the Hall entrance and took in the gothic beauty of the Masquerade.

  The low lighting of the chandeliers helped hide everyone’s appearance giving it a manifestation of something quite mysterious, intoxicating, and dangerous. The two-story room had vaulted ceilings making it look considerable with the giant spiral staircase gracing the back corner. Her heart started to pound. Dear God, he was somewhere in this room.

  The man was wretched, she kept reminding herself.

  Taking a deep breath she darted into the crowded ballroom without being announced. Sneaking in was more like it. Well, it was far too late to be publicized she supposed. Everyone already appeared to be drunk with their obnoxious laughter ringing over the music. The air felt thick, taking an effort to breathe properly. Maybe her corset was too tight again? The instant thought of him ripping it open made her nervously giggle. She closed her eyes, reprimanding herself. If she could not act like a lunatic for one night, she’d be satisfied. With that thought Victoria snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, spilling it a bit. Damn, pull yourself together. Liquid confidence never hurt. She slowly looked around and when no one appeared to be watching she drank whole thing and discarded the glass on a nearby table, completely out of breath.