Several hours later, Ginelle was tucked comfortably in the cushioned seat of the horse-drawn carriage. Despite the frigid air of the wintry night, her velvet cloak kept her considerably warm. She peered across the space to peek at Stefan from beneath lowered lashes. He had been kind to her all evening, escorting her about the room, introducing her as his betrothed but her affections for him had not changed. He was merely a friend.
She closed her eyes and breathed in gently. She had to continue to remind herself that this was all for her unborn child. She wanted her child to have a better life than she did when she was younger.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” Stefan asked gently, drawing her from her thoughts.
Ginelle sifted in her seat and smiled. “Yes, very much, thank you.” She fell silent, feeling the sudden effects of sleep creeping forward.
It wasn’t until she drifted asleep that the carriage rolled to a stop and they were suddenly at Ashford. Ginelle stirred awake and blinked repeatedly to clear her head.
The coachman opened the carriage door and the frosty draft struck her face, sending a spasm of tremors through her body as she stepped down into the snow encased ground.
Stefan was there to take her arm and lead her towards the manor. Once inside, Lucile greeted them at the door and Ginelle bid Stefan a good night.
“These terrible cold conditions are just wrecking havoc.” Lucile muttered with disdain, trembling as she hurried to close the door. “You must be tired, go on to bed my dear and I’ll have Belle bring you some tea.”
Ginelle smiled as she shrugged out of her cloak. “Thank you Lucile but I think I will just retire for the evening.”
She made her way upstairs, her limbs dragging as she moved on down the darkened hall, eagerly seeking the comforts of her bed.
Warmth wafted from the fireplace as she stepped into the room, exuding a subtle glow, enhancing shadows to creep along darkened corners. She closed the door gently behind her and tossed her cloak carelessly aside, wanting nothing more than to collapse into her bed.
With slow, tired fingers, she worked at disrobing until she stood in nothing but her chemise. As she moved to gently lay the gown aside, it was than her peripheral caught the large, looming frame lounged precariously in the corner.
She released a startled gasp, her eyes widening with alarm as she fell back, her body colliding against the bed-post as the shadow lazily unfurled it’s long, lean legs to stand to its towering height. Ginelle felt her heart hastened until it threatened to burst from her chest; it wasn’t until the figure stepped forward, that her eyes widened in stunned awareness.
“Oh my-“ her eyes welled with tears as bewilderment combined with disbelief propelled her forward, only to halt as those haunting, blue eyes hardened cruelly to slits of ice.
“Dorian?” her throat convulsed as she uttered his name in a small, pained whisper, fearful that she imagined him and he would vanish abruptly.
“Disappointed?” he snarled his voice low and menacing.
Ginelle frowned, struggling to control the sudden rush of air escaping her lungs. She felt an onslaught of incredulity and sheer delirium. Dorian was alive!
She felt tears of profound happiness slip abundantly down her face and she wanted to rush into his arms and feel him, flesh and blood, to assure herself that he was very much alive.
She stepped forward, her eyes wide pools of anguish. “What happened to you?”
“You seem baffled to see me alive?” Ginelle frowned, detecting hard accusation in the timbre of his voice.
“Dorian-“
He stepped forward and she jolted with a sudden rush of apprehension. Her mouth fell open on a horrified gasp as her eyes traveled frighteningly over his tall, thin frame. His hair now slightly longer, fell in loose, untamed waves around the sharp, cruel angles of his face revealing sunken cheeks and dark circles beneath cold, blue eyes.
Words escaped her as she assessed his gaunt stature, horrified for she did not recognize the man staring viciously at her, an air of violence surrounding his detached manner.
“What happened?” her words trembled as they escaped her throat and she stiffened as he stepped towards her, his strides deliberate and foreboding.
A shudder trembled through her limbs as his cold, blue eyes traveled insolently down the length of her, lingering on the swell of her breasts. “Do you know how many nights I dreamt of you, like this?” his voice sent a tremor down her spine as she retreated until her back came up against the bed-post.
His mouth curled into a sneer as he stared callously, his eyes taking on a feral gleam of simmering rage. Her mind scrambled for an explanation but she couldn’t seem to think clearly with his body towering over her.
“Dorian-“ her brows knitted together in utter confusion as she reached out and lightly touched his chest.
His hands lashed out and seized her roughly by the forearms, jerking her forward and forcing a cry past her lips. “I rot in a black hole and all this time, you’re spreading your thighs for another man!” he hissed.
Ginelle gasped as his fingers painfully tightened, forcing a whimper from her throat as tears rushed to cloud her vision. “You’re hurting me!”
“You know nothing of suffering.” He growled, reaching up to grip her chin roughly, forcing her to peer into his penetrating stare. “I thought of you, my sweet woman, little did I know you planned to wed another when you diligently refused me!” he jerked her away from the bed-post and she gasped as he shoved her onto the bed. Ginelle scrambled in haste, frightened but eager to explain. She barely released a breath before he seized the front of her chemise and ripped the material in half.
She cried out as he shoved her down onto the mattress and pinned her there with his body. She shoved against his chest, pummeling him with balled fists as tears of hurt and betrayal rushed forth.
“Dorian, stop!” she cried desperately. “You’re wrong-“ he captured her lips and gripped her chin cruelly between his fingers, his mouth crushing and bruising, punishing as his hands ravaged her frame, jerking on her torn chemise.
Ginelle struggled in vain, her emotions torn as his mouth devoured her sensitive skin, and his fingers tugging until he grasped her breast, forcing a moan past her lips. She fought against rational thoughts and the sudden flare of heat uncoiling through her limbs. Unable to resist, she opened her lips to his kisses and they softened, his hands no longer tugging but caressing as they moved hurriedly over the curves of her body.
“Ginelle, my sweet one.” he rasped, his voice strained and heated. His lips trailed hot kisses over her throat and the swell of her breasts and she felt the length of him pressed against her outer thigh.
He reached up and seized the pins holding her hair in place and tugged her tresses free curling his fingers in the silken wealth of her hair.
A deep ache spiraled in her loins and she arched in his arms, pressing her body flush against the heated contours of his male frame.
He pushed her legs apart and thrust inside her, their cries of passion joining in union as he sank deeper into the cradle of her thighs, his hips rolling in slow, deliberate thrusts as he captured her lips, his kiss possessive and branding.
Suddenly, he left her side like a flame of a candle abruptly diminished. A sudden gust of cold air swept over her heated flesh and she scrambled into a sitting position, jerking the blankets against her chest. A cold splash of realization struck her hard as she stared at his rigid back and averted her tearful eyes to the torn chemise lying heedlessly across the bed.
Rational thoughts took place along with immense betrayal and hurt of his treatment towards her. She peered up from beneath lowered lashes and was surprised to find him staring at her. “Feeling guilty?” he asked maliciously, his eyes leveling coldly on her.
“Dorian, what have I done?” she cried brokenly.
He stalked towards her and she stiffened as he loomed above her. “Every unimaginable wrong doing.” He growled low, his eyes narrowing with cold rebuke, “Do you carry his bastard?”
Ginelle gasped, “Dorian-“
He gripped her arm, his fingers curling painfully around her flesh. “Answer me, damn it! Do you carry Stefan’s child?”
Her body trembled in his hands and her brown eyes brimmed with tears. She hadn’t the words to tell him that the child she carried was his, the pain of his accusations opened old wounds, and the afflictions left her feeling as empty and hollow like never before. She loved this man and yet, he continued to think the worst of her. Did he not see? Did he not feel how her heart ached for him?
Her waited silence confirmed his suspicions and he shoved her away in disgust. “Dorian!-wait!” she cried but he jerked away from her and stalked from the room, slamming the door with frightening force.
**********