ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories) (2 page)

This time her voice was gentle and Abigail stood to face him, placing her hand gently on his arm.

At the touch of his daughter a great sorrow spread across his eyes and he quickly buried his face into his hands.

"Oh Abigail my love, what shall we do?"

It was a few moments before he had composed himself and they were all sat beside the fire.

"As you are aware my dear I have been in London on business. I received a letter from my bank over a week ago. It appears that some investments I had overseas have collapsed and I am left with very little. All the wealth I have left is in this house and lands. I shall have to sell off much of the land to pay off my taxes and outstanding debts. I am not even sure how long I can manage to keep the run of this house. I can barely afford to pay the servants wages."

Abigail listened open mouthed to her father. She had never suspected that anything had been wrong. Their lives had always been so comfortable, so carefree that she had scarcely taken the time to think about the family fortunes.

"Surely things cannot be that bad Father, surely something can be done?"

Shaking his head he looked solemnly into the fire.

"I'm afraid I have done all that can be done. Unless..."

"Unless what father?"

"It does not matter"

"Unless what father?"

Turning to his daughter he paused before speaking.

"If you or Janine could make an advantageous marriage then we could perhaps save the Estate?"

Abigail swallowed hard thinking of her words to Henry Driffield. He was a wealthy land owner but surely even he did not possess the kind of money needed to save her father.

"But no-one in the County would have that kind of money father- even if we had suitors."

Janine started to cry again and Abigail looked up at her father. There was something else, something he wasn't telling her.

"Father?"

Sighing heavily, John Carmichael gazed into the fire.

"On my return home this evening there was a letter waiting for me. It was from Baron von Reichenstein. He has somehow heard of my misfortune and has offered me a substantial amount of money that will clear our debts and also allow me to keep the Estate."

Abigail could feel the relief flooding in her chest.

"Well Father. Then there is a solution after all?"

His eyes were wide, looking intently at his daughter.

"Of course there are certain conditions; he wants the hand of one of my daughters."

The words set a chill over her heart. Baron von Reichenstein was indeed a wealthy man but was a mysterious figure that kept to himself. He was virtually a recluse. Abigail had only seen him once and then only briefly as his carriage had passed her in the lane. He lived alone, high up on the hill that looked down upon the little village in the valley. There were many rumours about him and none agreeable. When anything unpleasant happened it was always laid at the Barons door, though none of it ever proved. A number of villagers had gone missing over the years and all blamed somehow on the Baron without evidence. He was a dark and lone figure; sinister and mistrustful in the eyes of the local villagers who told tales of him to frighten their children when they misbehaved, and thus promoting the rumours from generation to generation.

He must be a very old man by now thought Abigail, and could feel her flesh creep at the very thought of him.

Janine had started to cry again and Abigail realised why. The prospect of such a union stuck in her own throat.

"Surely there is another way Father?" 

"I had hoped that you would find a suitor at the Ball tonight Abigail, I know that Henry Driffield was interested. I thought with Janine married to the Baron and you married to Driffield, you would both have secure futures, and I would not have to worry about you should anything happen to me. The Baron specified that I should not tell you about my debts, about his financial offer, but I could not lie to you. If I had, you would have known."

The rash words she had spoken to the farmer rushed through her head.

"Oh father, I have been so foolish, so selfish," and reaching out she buried her head into her father’s chest.

In her heart she knew what had to be done. Her poor sister was too young, too sensitive to be partnered with a man like the Baron. She would have to take on the burden herself. With the house and Estate saved there would be no need for her baby sister to be married. If one of them should marry for love then it should be Janine, not her.

Composing herself, Abigail stood up addressing both her father and sister.

"I am prepared to marry the Baron father. We have no choice. I am the eldest and so must take on the responsibility. There is nothing else for it."

Her voice quavered but she would not cry and stuck her finger nails into both her palms in an attempt to keep the tears away.

The three figures embraced until the room dimmed and the fire embers crackled in the grate. All was silent. There were no words left to say.

By the time Abigail entered her chamber late that night, the clouds had gathered in the night sky and a heavy rain had started to fall. Lighting a candle by her bedside she glanced at the shadowy figure standing in the mirror before her. Was it the same young girl that had left only a few hours earlier for the Ball? Her hair had become unpinned and hung in an unruly fashion around her shoulders, frizzy and course where had once been smooth and tamed curls. Her face was blotchy but she had cried enough and there were no more tears left. Stepping to the window she gazed out wearily into the lost night. The wind had started to whip up the trees and they tossed their branches in alarm against the oncoming storm. The house was set a little further back from the main village, situated higher up than most of the houses so that she looked down onto the lighted windows of the distant dwellings that gave the village an almost magical feel. Letting her eyes stray upwards towards the hills her gaze steadied on a spot in the distance; the dark shadow of a great castle, menacing and eerie in the scant moonlight. It was the home of Baron von Reichenstein. Abigail's flesh tingled as she pulled her shawl a little tighter across her shoulders. She had jumped from the frying pan and straight into the fires of hell. Her heart felt heavy at the thought of it- a life chained to the Baron; no doubt she would rot away, confined to remain within the damp and dour castle walls. Well better it was she than her dear sister. She had no other choice.

By the time she had woken the following morning her father had already dispatched a letter to the Baron offering the hand in marriage of his eldest daughter Abigail.

A swift reply was received stating that the wedding would be arranged for a week’s time in the little chapel in the grounds of the Castle. The service would take place at dusk, just after the sun had started its descent into the Southern Hemisphere. It would be a quiet affair with just Janine and her father invited. There would be no additional family on the Barons side. They were all dead.

The week passed quickly and Abigail went through the hours in a daze. She had removed all emotion from her heart and had been left with a numb emptiness. Janine and her farther tried to offer  comforting words, promising that they would visit her often; yet all the time she gazed up at the castle and imagined it her prison, the Baron her jailor.

The day of the wedding finally dawned; a cold and dull day - the sky bleak and unforgiving. Abigail and her family were instructed to arrive at the castle gates by four pm. John Carmichael and his youngest daughter would remain in the main hall, whilst Abigail would be shown to her chamber to prepare for the ceremony. 

As the three figures waited patiently at the gate, Abigail could feel her knees start to buckle beneath her, the steely resolve dissolving in the shade of the gothic towers that rose upwards from the main body of the castle. Supported by her father and sister she pulled herself together as the distant bell began to toll. On the exact stroke of four, a door swung open at the front of the castle and a dark and crooked creature made its way across to the gates. Abigail stepped back at the sight of the abhorrent figure and prayed that this was not the Baron.  The bent backed figure gave a slight bow and gesturing forward with his hands led them through the gate.

As the group moved slowly up the steps towards the main entrance hall, Abigail had the feeling that someone was watching her from high up in one of the towers. Glancing up she met the cold blank stares of the gargoyles, hideous carved stone images of Devils and imps; all manner of creatures from the underworld looked down upon her. There was definitely something evil about the place.

The hall was marble; long and cold. It was time to part from her loved ones until the time for the ceremony and fighting back the tears she watched as her father and sister were led away to a side room. The old man did not speak but led the way up a great winding stone staircase, glancing backwards every few steps to ensure that his charge was following. On reaching the landing she was led along a dark and dreary corridor before stopping in front of a door marked with her own name in fine gold lettering. It was not what she had been expecting, and as the door was unlocked and opened she was surprised to find a cheerful and cosy room lit by a dozen candles and a generous fire, blazing in the grate. Before she could turn around the old man had vanished and she was left standing alone in the doorway.

Stepping timidly into the room she closed the door behind her. A large bed dominated the room and on it was laid her bridal gown; an exquisite creation of white silk with a long and flowing lace veil. Besides these, a set of pearls shimmered in the candlelight and picking them up held them to the window to catch the late afternoon sun.  They were the most beautiful things she had ever seen, the cool even globes warming beneath her fingers.

As she picked up the gown to make a closer inspection, a sealed envelope fell onto the floor. Her name had been written on the front of the envelope in large and looping black letters. Carefully she opened the envelope and withdrew the contents- a letter in the same bold handwriting.

My Dearest Abigail,

I do hope that the bridal gown meets with your approval. The pearls are a family heirloom- my wedding present to you. We meet in the chapel when the bell tolls 5.

Baron Von Reichenstein

The small clock on the mantle struck the quarter of the hour- she would have to change quickly into her gown and rearrange her hair. The dress fitted perfectly and she wondered how the Baron had known her size. Surely he had not chosen such a wonderful garment himself? The image in the mirror reflected a beautiful young woman yet she felt afraid and the face did not smile back at her. The pearls encircling her elegant throat gave her a regal air but they did not make her happy. All she wanted to do was to go home.

By the side of the bed she found a pair of dainty silk slippers to match her gown and once again she found that they fitted her like a glove.

With her hair pinned in place she was ready with 15 minutes until the appointed time. Sitting on the bed she stared into space, her mind empty and awaiting her fate. It wasn't only the wedding itself that had been worrying her. The thought of her wedding night had been niggling at the back of her mind and she had tried not to think too much about it. She was innocent in the ways of women and without a mother had received no instruction on the intimacies between men and women, save for what she had read in books, which had only amounted to the fumbling of corsets and concealed blushes in the conservatory.

Soon there was a knock at the door. The old man had returned with a bouquet of wild pink roses for her to carry. It was time to leave. With a final glance at her own reflection in the mirror she reluctantly followed the old creature out of the room and down the staircase. It was time for the girl to become a woman. 

The chapel stood in the vast grounds in the shadow of the castle. It had the same damp and musty smell as the church in the village yet Abigail suspected that it was seldom used. There was an air of desolation about the place and the leaves of many winters were gathered around the old oak door. It was an ungodly place and the girl visibly shivered as she stepped into the stone porch. Her father was waiting to lead her down the long aisle to the altar and the sight of him brought the tears rushing to her eyes. Clasping her hand firmly in his, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and lifting her veil he brushed them away. It was neither the time nor place for weeping and he kissed his beloved daughter softly on the cheek as they stood waiting for the signal to their entrance. The inner door was slightly open and she peered into the gloom that was lit by many candles. Two people were sat in the wooden pews. She recognised one as her sister, the other, a tall cloaked solitary figure sat opposite. A low rumble filled the space and she could feel the ground beneath her reverberate as a wheezy organ began to bellow a dramatic flurry of chords and notes that filled the vast space. It was not the usual church organ music that she was accustomed to and felt as if she could almost drown in the hypnotic sound.

It was time. 

With a final glance and a squeeze of the arm the two set off on the slow march towards the waiting priest. 

Abigail's stomach was in her mouth as she managed to put one foot in front of the other; her body hardly seeming her own. Everything around her moved slowly as if she were part of a strange dream. Walking passed Janine she could tell the girl was crying and lifting her head she smiled half-heartedly at her sister in an attempt to reassure her that all was well.