The Wedding Pact (Marriage by Fairytale Book 3) Page 2

  She almost didn’t dare ask the question, but she had to know. “By companion, do you mean friend?”

  “No. I mean wife. You will marry me.”

  Ophelia felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Her guardian expected her to marry him? In her shock, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t know you.”

  “It’s understandable that you’re uncertain about things, but trust me, it’ll work out.” He reached out and touched her knee. “You’ll get to know me in time.”

  She shuddered. She wanted to shift away from him, but something in the way he was looking at her stopped her. He was smiling at her. He was using a pleasant tone. But she detected something unsettling in his eyes. She couldn’t quite explain it except that she wondered if a fox felt like this when a hound had it cornered into a hole.

  He released her knee and finished his cup of tea. “We have plenty of time to get better acquainted. And we can start now. I’m sure you’re hungry since you’re used to eating at 9:30.”

  How did he know that? Had he been managing every area of her life for her all of these years? Had the servants been instructed to follow a carefully laid out plan he had given them? She recalled the way the tea had been poured, the way the maids had giggled over doing things the way he wanted them to be done, and now…and now he was telling her she was going to marry him. He hadn’t even asked. He wasn’t giving her a chance to get to know him first. He was planning to marry her without any regards to her wishes.

  Her eyes grew wide. The maids were packing her things! She turned her gaze back to him. “When do you intend to marry me?”

  “We’ll marry tomorrow. We have to leave for France. I have some important business to tend to there. We’ll need to leave right after the morning meal.”

  The morning meal was always at 9:30, and it always ended at ten. Right at ten. For as long as she could remember, it’d been that way. There had never been any deviation from that schedule. The same was true for her noonday snack, her afternoon snack, and her dinner. Everything was always done at the same time. Like a well-tuned clock, her life had been precise and orderly.

  He rose to his feet. “Come, my dear. Let’s not tarry.” She was about to put her cup down on the tray when he added, “And make sure you finish your tea. It’s not good to waste anything.”

  Since he was watching her expectantly, she brought the cup up to her lips and swallowed the rest of the tea. She didn’t even taste it. How could she when she felt a sense of unease rising up within her? Marriage. To Lord Wolfe. Starting tomorrow she’d be his wife, and then what? The rest of her life would play out like this? It’d be an extension of her life up to now. Everything would be done at certain times. She would be expected to do whatever he wanted. True, she’d been doing that up to now, but at least she didn’t have the discomfort of having him around.

  She set the empty cup on the tray. If she wasn’t careful, she just might throw up.

  “Good,” Lord Wolfe said. He put his hand under her arm and guided her up so that she was standing. He took a moment to brush her hair from her shoulder. He scanned her, and his smile widened. “You are very beautiful. Much more so than I hoped. I’m very pleased.”

  She didn’t know what to say, and fortunately, he didn’t expect her to answer. He just tucked her arm around his and led her out of the drawing room.

  Chapter Two

  Ophelia spent the rest of the day in a silent panic. She hadn’t met her guardian until today, and now that they’d met, he wasn’t leaving her side. Well, he did let her out of his sight so she could change into an evening gown for dinner, but that was it. And while getting ready for dinner, she couldn’t help but notice the large trunk packed with her things in it. She knew what it meant. It meant she would be leaving here with him tomorrow. Her stomach twisted into knots.

  “Lord Wolfe wants to see you with your hair pinned up,” the maid had said as she worked on her hair.

  Ophelia forced herself not to grimace. Lord Wolfe wanted her hair up, so that was the way it was going to be.

  “You’ll be a beautiful bride,” the maid continued. “He brought your wedding gown with him. Would you like to see it?”

  No, no she wouldn’t. But the maid went to the armoire anyway. The maid brought out a golden gown.

  “It’s expensive,” the maid told her, eyes wide. “I can tell by the fabric and design. I bet it’d take six months of my wages to pay for it. He’s sparing no expense for you.”

  The maid giggled and hung the gown back on the hook. Then she returned to the vanity and put a pin in Ophelia’s hair.

  “Isn’t there a way to delay the wedding until I’ve gotten a chance to know him better?” Ophelia asked.

  It was like the time she saw a raven eat a dead rabbit when she was younger. She’d been horrified by it, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to turn her gaze from it until the stable master told her to get her horse to the stables.

  “He plans to marry you tomorrow,” the maid said, seeming to be oblivious to the dread Ophelia was experiencing. “There’s a vicar a couple hours’ ride from here. You’ll marry there. Everything’s already been arranged.”

  Ophelia didn’t expect the response to bring tears to her eyes, but it did. He had arranged for the wedding even before he met her. Wasn’t there something she could do to avoid it?

  “Why are you crying?” the maid asked in concern as she stopped working on her hair.

  What could Ophelia say? If she told the maid the truth, the maid would probably tell Lord Wolfe. And then what? Would he let her out of the marriage? Or would he touch her again and tell her she’d get used to him? Throughout the day, he’d made it a point to touch her knee, her arm, the small of her back, and her hand. And each time, she’d had to fight back the urge to run out of the room screaming at the top of her lungs.

  The maid pulled out a handkerchief and wiped Ophelia’s cheeks. “Oh, I know what it is. You’re overwhelmed. Everything is happening so fast. We were told not to tell you his plans. He had written that he wanted to be the one to surprise you.” She put her hand on Ophelia’s shoulder. “Everything’s happening so fast. I’m sure after you have a good night’s sleep, things will slow down for you.”

  Ophelia watched as the maid slipped the handkerchief back into her pocket. If she told the maid she didn’t want to marry Lord Wolfe, would the maid help her? Or would the maid insist she do it anyway?

  The maid hummed a happy tune under her breath as she returned to putting purple pins into Ophelia’s hair. The purple matched Ophelia’s gown. Lord Wolfe had told her purple was his favorite color. She should have known she’d be forced to wear this for dinner.

  “What if I don’t want to get married?” Ophelia finally asked, her voice sounding small in the room.

  The maid chuckled and waved the question aside. “Every bride feels nervous. It’s natural. As I said, a good night’s sleep will give you a fresh new perspective on things. You won’t be feeling this way forever.”

  So the maid wasn’t going to help her. She was only going to do what Lord Wolfe wanted.

  The maid finished putting the pins in her hair then instructed her to stand up. “Let’s see how you look.”

  Ophelia rose to her feet and stepped away from the vanity so the maid could make sure everything was just the way Lord Wolfe wanted it. She closed her eyes and willed the tears back. The last time she’d cried, it was when she scraped her knee after the horse got too close to a tree.

  She’d been riding too fast, and she hadn’t been careful as she rode through the group of trees on the property. She recalled how the maids had fussed over her when she came back with a bloody knee. “I hope it doesn’t leave a scar,” one of the maids had said. Now, as Ophelia thought of that day, she wondered if the maids had worried Lord Wolfe wouldn’t be pleased if they presented her with a blemish, even one that was on her knee.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. Had they only fussed over her in orde
r to make sure she was perfect when she came to him? Had all of her life been leading up to this moment?

  The maid nodded in approval and smiled at her. “You are lovely. I know I’m not supposed to say it, but I can’t help but envy you. You’re about to be whisked off to France to live with a gentleman who’s been waiting most of his life for you.”

  It was on the tip of Ophelia’s tongue to ask the maid if she wanted to switch places with her, but she knew it would never work. Lord Wolfe wanted her. He didn’t want the maid.

  The maid took her by the arm and led her out of the room. “Go on to the drawing room. The bridegroom is waiting for you.” She giggled and winked at her before she went to the servants’ stairs.

  Ophelia stood still for a long moment. This was going to be the last evening she was going to stay here. It was the last time she’d have dinner here. Tomorrow morning after she ate, she’d have to leave the only home she’d ever known with a gentleman she didn’t know.

  Every bride feels nervous. It’s natural. As I said, a good night’s sleep will give you a fresh new perspective on things.

  Recalling the maid’s words brought her some courage. She took a deep breath and released it. Then she took a step forward. And another. And another. And before long, she found herself at the entrance of the drawing room.

  Lord Wolfe was already there. This time, he wasn’t standing by a window with his back to her. This time, he was lounging in a chair with a brandy in one hand and a book in the other.

  She supposed she should walk into the room, but she couldn’t bring herself to move forward.

  After a moment, he looked over at her. With a smile, he set the brandy and book on the table next to him then stood up. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you look lovelier this evening than you did earlier today.”

  He walked toward her, and she had to use every ounce of willpower not to turn around and rush back up to her bedchamber. He was going to be her husband. She had to get used to spending time with him.

  “You needn’t be shy with me,” he said as he guided her into the room. He shut the doors behind them, slipped his arm around her waist, and led her over to the settee. “Did you manage to get a little rest in while you were upstairs getting ready for dinner?”

  Since she was expected to say it, she replied with a, “Yes, I did.”

  “Good. We have a long day’s journey ahead of us. I want to make sure you’re ready for it. That’s why we won’t stay up too late after dinner. I know you’re used to going to bed at nine, but this evening, I insist you retire at eight.”

  They stopped in front of the settee.

  “Can I sit in a chair?” she asked.

  He squeezed her waist and kissed her cheek. “As I said, there’s no reason to be shy. We’re practically married already.”

  She recoiled from him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He prompted her to sit on the settee and sat beside her, his leg touching hers and his arm still around her waist.

  “Is that a good book?” she asked, looking for something—anything—to take his mind off of touching and kissing her.

  He glanced at the table. “Yes. It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Will you teach me how to read?”

  “There’s no need for you to read, my dear. You’re going to be my wife. You’re skilled with the piano, you sing, and you’ve been taught proper etiquette. You know everything that’s necessary in order to be Lady Wolfe.”

  Pretending she didn’t notice how close his head was to hers, she forced out, “What is the book about?”

  “About a military leader. You wouldn’t find it interesting.”

  “I don’t mind learning about him. It is one of your favorite books. I’d like to know why you enjoy reading it.”

  “Compared to you, it’s not all that interesting,” he whispered in her ear.

  He kissed her neck then whispered, “Ophelia, you’re the most exquisite lady I’ve even been with.”

  She grimaced. Wasn’t there something she could do to stop this? Did she have to just sit here and let him do whatever he wanted?

  She tried to move away from him, but his arm around her waist only tightened. Before she could ask him to let her go, he brought his mouth to hers. She was so shocked that she didn’t stop him as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. He explored her mouth in earnest as his hand went to her breast. He squeezed it and groaned.

  No. She couldn’t allow this. She lifted her hands to his chest and tried to push him away. He was strong. Far stronger than he looked. She made a futile attempt to wiggle away from him, and when that didn’t work, she turned her head so he wasn’t kissing her anymore.

  “I can’t,” she cried out. “Stop. I can’t do this.”

  He finally let her move away from him. She was trembling so badly that she could only manage to get to the other side of the settee. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might leap out of her chest.

  “You’re right,” he said. “We have to wait. It’ll be much better if I have you after we’re married. I vowed to keep you a virgin until we wed. You’re just so beautiful that I lost control for a moment. But I’m in control now. Your words have sobered me.”

  She held onto the arm of the settee. He expected to do even more to her? She couldn’t bear what he’d already done. How much more could he possibly want?

  “You’ve been untouched by a gentleman,” he continued in a tone that was meant to soothe but didn’t. “You’re scared. You don’t know what to expect. I understand. Tomorrow I’ll be mindful to take things slow.” He touched her shoulder and lightly squeezed it. “I’ll ease you into the transition of becoming my wife.”

  It was a good thing she hadn’t eaten anything recently because she would have thrown up if she had. He was going to do more of this to her. He was going to keep touching and kissing her? He wasn’t going to stop until…until… Until what? Exactly what was he planning to do to her?

  He released her shoulder and went to the desk that was across the room. Thank goodness. He was no longer next to her. Maybe she’d get a chance to take a nice, cleansing breath.

  He picked up a teapot and poured tea into one of the cups on the tray. He then picked up a decanter and poured a different kind of liquid into another cup. She might have wondered what the decanter had in it if she wasn’t so shaken.

  She couldn’t do this. Whatever he had planned, she just couldn’t do it. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

  He returned to her and put her cup on the table. He sat beside her and sipped his drink. She had to be honest with him. She needed to tell him this would never work.

  Gathering her courage, she said, “I can’t get married. I don’t know you. It’s too soon.”

  “We’re going to marry,” he replied. “I’ve waited for you all these years. I could have taken you when you turned eighteen, but I waited until now to give you extra time to get ready for marriage.”

  “Can’t we at least get to know each other first?”

  Though he smiled, she detected a hint of impatience in his expression. “The best way to get to know me is by marrying me. Now, I have agreed to wait until tomorrow before making love to you. That is enough of a compromise.” He gestured to her cup. “Drink up, my dear. The tea will get cold if you wait too long.”

  So, that was it. She only had tonight before he continued with what he had started. He wasn’t to grant her more time. Just as everything else had been her entire life, this marriage would be the same way. She’d have to do what he wanted, and she’d have to do it for the rest of her life.

  “Ophelia?”

  She turned her gaze back to him.

  “Drink your tea,” he said.

  After a moment, she reached for the cup and brought it to her lips. She tried not to think of it, but she could still feel his mouth and hands on her body. She felt filthy. A part of her wanted to take a bath to wash him off of her. It would be pointless. She’d still feel him trying to do things to do her that made her feel
unclean.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the way his gaze traced her body. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t marry him. There wasn’t any way she could subject herself to this for the rest of her life. She needed to come up with a plan. She needed to find a way out of the marriage. And she needed to do it before tomorrow morning.

  Chapter Three

  Once Ophelia was allowed to retire for the night, she had come up with a plan. No one else was going to help her. She would need to help herself. She rummaged through her armoire. There were only a few outfits left that the maids hadn’t packed. She selected a yellow dress and then grabbed the red cloak.

  She wouldn’t be able to leave through the front door. Lord Wolfe was still up. He had chosen to stay in the drawing room to read the rest of his book. She also couldn’t go out through the servants’ stairs. If one of the servants caught her, they’d return her to this bedchamber. Or, worse, they’d tell Lord Wolfe she’d tried to escape. She didn’t dare take that risk!

  She would have to climb down the trellis near her bedchamber window. She’d only climbed one once, and that was when she was ten. As soon as she realized the vines grew up along the manor because of the trellises around it, she had pretended she was a vine and had started to climb the one by the entrance of the manor. The butler had caught her and had ordered her to come back down. When she was back on the ground, he had forbidden her to ever go on another trellis.

  And she had abided by that rule. Until now.

  She stepped up on her daybed and looked out the window. It was already dark, and, unfortunately, the moon wasn’t that bright tonight. She waited several minutes to make sure no one was outside. The stables were dark, which made her think the stable master wasn’t there. If she was careful about the path she took to the stables, no one from the manor should see her going in that direction.

  She opened the window. The cool air reached out and brushed her skin. The brief rain from earlier that day had cooled things off. But she would be all right. She had a cloak to keep her warm. Besides, she’d rather freeze to death than let Lord Wolfe keep touching and kissing her.