A Winter's Tale

Chapter 14:

Chapter 14:

I was frozen. I couldn't move. I so badly wanted to turn around to find the source of that gravelly voice. I needed to turn around. But, the fearful look in Miriam's wide eyes prevented me. So, I kept my gaze on her, feeling the intensity of the man behind me. There was no doubt who he was. No one had that voice here, no one but the man who had been hiding from me since I'd arrived. I heard Alice's sharp intake of breath from beside me. Immediately, I grabbed her hand, trying to comfort her. Oh, William was going to murder us.

        "I'll ask again," the voice said, slowly, "how do you know about her?" I opened my mouth, but nothing would come out. My breath was stolen from me, and I started to think about the first time I tried to meet my husband to be. The way he yelled, how afraid I was, how unsettled the estate was after. Alice squeezed my hand, "Emery. Turn around." It wasn't until then, the moment Alice's soft voice reached my ears, that I regained control of my body. I relaxed some of the tension in my shoulders, whooshing out a big breath. I looked up at Miriam once more to see her focusing her eyes on me. She nodded once, and that was all the confirmation I needed. Slowly, extremely slowly, I turned around to face the man I'd never thought I'd be able to see.

       I gasped. A half strangled, half amazed song that came from deep in my lungs. The man in front of me was not the man I was expecting. In some ways, he matched the description my mind created of him, yet he was still so different. He was tall and dark, which was expected. He easily towered over me in a scary way, intense, dark eyes staring down at me angrily. His lips were set in a frown. His fists were clenched, his black cloak hanging open wildly. He was a picture for sure, one of dark intent. But, that wasn't all. No, my betrothed was beautiful.

      Not classically handsome like the ladies at King James' court would like him, but scraggly, rugged. A dark beauty that was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. As I searched his face, I noticed something else. On the left side of his face, starting at his hairline, he had a scar in the shape of three scratches that went down the side of his face, and disappeared into his shirt. I had no idea how bad the scar was, how he'd gotten it, or if this was the deformity people whispered about. This scar would surely not be accepted in the court, and no matter how breathtaking he was, he would be shunned for it.

         He glared at me, "answer me." I hit full force back into the present when he spoke, that voice startling me from my reprieve. I met his gaze, not even sure what he could see in my eyes, "t-the cemetery. I f-found her grave." He closed his eyes with a pained look on his face. It was an old pain, something that happened years ago. I studied him. Something happened here. Something bad. Something that had to do with the unkempt, forgotten grave in the back of a family cemetery. I tentatively reached a shaky hand out to him, but I yanked it back when his eyes snapped open.

It wasn't anger there anymore. Instead, it was just exhaustion and exasperation. It struck me then how much of a toll whatever he was doing was taking on him. It kept him in the shadows, kept him hidden from his betrothed. I would never know him. He could fall in love with me, he could quit his project, we could get married, and live the life I'd always dreamed of. But, I would never know him. I would never know his past, the way he thinks, what makes him operate. I could tell that by the way he looked, the darkness in his eyes. For the millionth time, I wondered what King James was thinking when he decided to marry us. I would never be happy here, and this man, the infamous, mysterious Count of Dubois, would never be happy with me here.

       I stepped back, swallowing the lump in my throat, "I apologize." He cocked his head, eyebrows flying up to meet his hairline. He glanced back at Miriam who was probably still staring wildly at the scene before her, and then at Alice, who I'm sure could just barely hold in her excitement. "There's no reason to," his voice was softer, yet it still had a cold, hard finality to it, "you may go to the cemetery, but never ever say that name again. Understood?" I nodded, holding in my immediate response which was to snap at him that he could not mandate my life. I was not a child. He could not tell me what I was allowed, and what I wasn't allowed to do. 

     He studied me for a moment longer before swinging around, and stomping off into the nearest corridor. As soon as he'd disappeared into the shadows, Alice's squeal caused Miriam to let out a shriek, and me to jump. "You met him," she yelled, grabbing my arm, "you met him, and you saw him, and you spoke to him. How do you feel?" I was quiet for a little while, staring into the fire. I felt something. I just wasn't sure what to call it. It wasn't happiness though. "Sad," I said softly, shuffling closer to the fire, "I feel sad. Mostly for him. It's rolling off him in waves." It was true. The sadness cloaked the Count, leading me back to he realization that he was still haunted by old pains. Things that happened in the past that he'll never get over.

"He's a sad man," this time it was Miriam, who'd gathered herself, and was now beside me, placing an arm around me, "a very sad man." I knew better than to ask her why he wasn't happy. There were only so many feats I could achieve in one day. Seeing him, still had me reeling. Tall, ethereal, he was intimidating, formidable, terrifying. I knew how much it must've cost him to show himself to me. I knew that whatever was holding him back before, would hold him back again. There's no escape for the broken. That much, I knew well.

KANE'S POV:

I raced back to my quarters, my mind trying to piece together everything that just happened. I didn't mean to expose myself. I was going to slip in through the kitchen door while they were talking at the fire, but hearing her say that name, it snapped something inside of me. I lost my control. I needed to know how she knew about Jan....that woman. I remember so clearly the looks in my little betrothed's eyes- for she was little compared to me. Her beautiful eyes held fear, curiosity, care, and at the last minute anger. I knew she might be upset about me banning things that she could say as I'd already banned places she should go.

There was no point now. Things would all go down from here. She'd seen me, she'd want to see me again. She'd wonder places she shouldn't be, seeking me out, except next time, I couldn't frighten her away. No, next time, I imagine she'll send me an indulgent, exasperated look before demanding answers to all her questions. And, I would be able to do nothing but answer them. After all, I was the one who kept her in the dark for this long, who made her unhappy. William didn't agree with my choice when the news came that my betrothed would be on her way. He wanted to treat her like royalty, spoil her in my riches, send us on romantic strolls in the gardens, watch us fall so helplessly in love. I refused. That road was one I could never travel. Not again.

So, I made rules. Outlines places she could go, places she couldn't go. If that didn't make her angry, I knew controlling what she could say would. I reached my quarters, and threw myself in a chair. Curse that cemetery. I thought surely no one would discover the hidden grave. Off to the side amongst bushes, it wasn't tidy or pretty. It was small, rough. There because I would never forgive myself if I didn't put it there. Not like I ever forgave myself anyway. But, trust my curious little bride to find it, even in all of its discreetness, and ask about it. I sighed, rubbing my head. I had so much to figure out. So much to fix. So much to do. And, now, this petite, beautiful woman, with a name as enchanting as she was, was throwing everything off.

And, I loved it.