ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories) (4 page)

A new gown of emerald green silk had been hung next to the mirror with a pair of slippers to match. A note on the bed announced that dinner would be served at 7:00 pm in the Dining Hall and that the Baron would be joining her. A tub of steaming water and towels had been set by a roaring fire for her to bathe. The whole thing was slightly unreal and she wondered if her life would be so ordered from now on. Dipping her hand into the water she checked the temperature; it was of course perfect.

Abigail sat ready and waiting in her chamber, she had over half an hour to wait until the appointed time but she dare not wander around the castle in case she bumped into her husband. It would be different over dinner, if there was no conversation at least they could eat in silence; if she met him elsewhere she wouldn’t know what to do or say.

The dress had fitted her beautifully and it brought out the green flecks in her eyes. Her dark curls hung loosely around her shoulders and contrasted with the pale whiteness of her skin and the overall effect was bewitching; even Abigail herself thought that for once she looked beautiful. She wondered if she should have been more formal with her hair, braided it perhaps or worn it up as was the fashion, but without help it was difficult and probably one thing that Joseph wasn’t prepared for. At home there had been no Ladies Maid, the two sisters had faired for themselves, helping each other, but now she was alone. At the thought of her sister and father at home her eyes began to fill; however beautiful the castle might be; however generous the Baron might be, she would be very lonely.

At a knock on the door she dried her eyes. The hall clock was starting to chime the hour and it was time. Her heart fluttered as she opened the door and followed Joseph down the stairs and into the Dining Hall.

The first thing that she noticed as she walked through the door was a huge chandelier hanging down from the ceiling, high above a long dark table. Its candle flames lit a myriad of crystal droplets that shimmered and sparkled on the cut glass goblets and silverware that had been laid out upon the table.

As she gasped at the loveliness of the room, the tall, dark figure of the Baron stepped out of the shadows to greet her. Abigail was struck once again by his appearance and had almost forgotten how handsome he was. As he moved closer his dark eyes met hers and she was at once entranced and stood unblinking in his gaze. There was something both deep and mysterious behind the handsome face, a secret that flickered behind those soulless dark pits and her heart raced; her bosom rising and falling in quick shallow bursts within the confines of her gown.

“Come my dear, you look exquisite” the deep tones of the Baron  seem to whisper throughout the room as  he took her hand in his and led her to the table. Once again she noticed the coolness of his skin. As soon as he had taken his place opposite her at the table, the door opened and in walked Joseph to serve the soup as if he had been listening behind the door; waiting for his entrance.

Once the soup had been ladled and the wine poured, Joseph left the two alone.

Whilst dressing for dinner Abigail had tried to think of topics of conversation in which to engage the Baron. She could not bear to think that they would sit alone, night after night without speaking. It was bad enough being alone in the daytime but she must find some comfort in the man, if only in his words.

“I must thank you Baron for the fine gifts you have provided for me, the books and materials for my amusement; you are most kind.”

“Victor, please call me Victor.”

“Then Victor, you are most kind and I thank you,” his name seemed strange on her lips and seemed too personal for their reserved relationship.

“I hope you like the gown too? It appears to fit you perfectly?”

Abigail could feel her cheeks flush as his eyes traced the outline of her body to her waist and back up again. She was aware of her soft and heaving bosom, strapped against the fine silk and knew the Baron was aware too. He did not speak and his countenance did not change. He appeared to be a man of little emotion.

“It too is beautiful, thank you Victor.”

“It is only beautiful because you are wearing it.”

Her heart ached at his words. They were the kind of words spoken by lovers in the novels she read, yet from the Barons lips they were spoken without passion; without love. She wondered if a real heart beat within his chest or if it was as empty as his words.

The soup course was over, the broth sipped in silence and soon Joseph was carrying in the main. A huge roast of beef was revealed under a silver dome as Joseph expertly carved. She was served with a plateful of meat and assorted vegetables; yet the Barons plate remained empty.

“Are you not eating Baron, Victor”, she quickly corrected.

“The beef is a little too well done for my liking. I have acquired a fancy for very rare meats on my travels across the continents and I know that is not to everyone’s taste. Joseph will be along with my dish shortly.”

On cue Joseph entered the room, bringing forth a separate silver salver. The lid was lifted to reveal a plate of red and bloody meat which the Baron started to devour with relish.

Abigail could not watch him eat, the blood dripping from his fork forming a small red pool in the centre of his plate.

As she cut her own perfectly roasted beef she searched her mind for conversation.

“A strange thing happened to me last night.”

The Baron looked up from his meat and waited for her to continue.

“Yes the strangest thing. I was woken in the night by an odd, fluttering sound. I had just been dreaming that someone was in my room, watching me. The window in my room was open and as I rose to fasten it, a great black bird that must have been trapped in my room flew straight at me and out of the window.”

The Baron put down his knife and fork and continued to stare at her.

“Go on.”

“Well that is all. I was frightened at first but I was just being silly. The bird was more afraid than I.”

Sitting back in his chair the Baron seemed to turn a shade paler, his eyes burning brightly and the rims appearing red.

“You must promise me that you will keep your window securely fastened at all times and your door locked.”

His voice was urgent and she was surprised by his sudden passion.

“Yes Victor, but I am sure that will not be necessary.”

Reaching across the table he grabbed her by the hand; his eyes angry and fearful.

“Promise me that you will do it. You must promise.”

“Yes of course Victor, I promise, but...”

The Baron had already risen from the table and bowed his head.

“You must forgive me. I have work to attend to. Joseph will serve the rest of your meal. Now if you will excuse me I will bid you goodnight.”

The door closed and the Baron was gone leaving Abigail alone once more. She couldn’t tell if it were her words that had troubled him or if he would have left of his own accord. Yet he was normally such a cold and unemotional man; something had definitely stirred him.

She was in no mood for a pudding, yet she let Joseph serve her coffee before retiring for the night. Slipping out into the main hall she made her way to the library. She would light a candle and read for a while; eager to return to the world of Cathy and Heathcliffe.

Abigail had left the book closed on one of the tables but it had obviously been put away by the ever vigilant Joseph. Scanning the walls in the candlelight she noticed that the curtain on the far side of the room had been opened. She was certain that she had closed the curtain over the ancient looking books and even if she hadn’t then Joseph would certainly have done so.

She was about to close the curtain when the front of a book grabbed her attention. One of the larger volumes had been removed from the shelf and had created a space, leaving the cover of the next plainly visible.

The book was all about local folklore and the cover depicted the picture of various creatures; some real and some imagined. Just under the title was a sketch of a bat; its dark wings outstretched as in flight. Closing her eyes she thought back to the previous night and the fluttering sound in her room; the creature had been no bird; it had been a bat! Wuthering Heights could wait another day; she would read up on the local ghosts and ghouls instead. About to leave the room she stopped in her tracks, there were raised voices coming from the main hall and panicking she looked around the room for a place to hide. She recognised one of the voices as the Baron’s; he was shouting at someone quite loudly and sounded angry. The second voice was thin and reedy, it could have been Joseph but she doubted it. The voices ceased as the door opened and Abigail shot behind one of the armchairs. Baron von Reichenstein strode across the floor and to the bookshelf, placing back a large red bound book before closing the curtain to conceal them once more.

“What the hell are you doing behind the chair?” His voice boomed across the room and she could sense the irritation in his voice.

Creeping from her hiding place she felt quite ridiculous; like a small child about to be chastised.

“There is no need to hide from me Abigail; this is your home too and you are free to wander as you please. However the hour is getting late; I will see you safely to your room.”

She wondered what perils awaited her in the house and was about to protest when he noticed the book in her hands.

“What have you there my dear?”

As if caught red handed with stolen property she held up the book for the Baron to see. His eyes seemed to widen for a brief moment but his gaze was soon steady on hers once again.

“I doubt that will be of interest to you. More likely to keep you awake at night. I’m sure there are others that will better suit. I see it is from my own collection. I have a number of rare and ancient volumes that I keep under that curtain to stop them from fading in the sunlight. I would rather that you do not read those; some of them are the only remaining copies in the world and the pages are quite fragile and could easily tear.”

Taking the book from her hands he placed it back on the shelf behind the curtain and escorted her up the stone staircase. She had little appetite left for reading.

Stopping at the doorway the Baron caught her arm.

“You must promise me to lock this door tonight and remember to check that your windows are fastened. Do you promise me?”

Nodding in compliance she pulled away from him and entered the room alone.

Why on earth was he acting so strangely? Surely he wasn’t afraid of bats and birds or other creatures entering the castle? Pushing the bolt across on the door she paused. Something had bothered the Baron and it had started after her tale of the creature that had been in her room.

People were still superstitious in this land and she had grown up with stories and legends of strange creatures that roamed the hills at night; or little people that lived in the woods and the living dead that dwelt in a sleep of death by day and drank the blood of men woman and children during the night. She smiled to herself, trolls, elves and vampires had been the cause of many a childish nightmare.

The smile stuck on her face. In the legends of Vampires they had turned into bats; flying to their victims through open bedroom windows. She thought of the Baron’s peculiar habits; not visible in the day and yet working during the night. As a picture of the blood pooling on his dinner plate entered her mind she shook her head to remove the thoughts. It was all ludicrous; wild imaginings in the darkness. Yet before she retired for the night and blew out her candle she made sure that the window fastenings were secure.

Abigail did not sleep well. For most of the night she tossed and turned as the images of strange creatures filled her dreams. At one point she thought that she heard a scratching sound outside of her window, a tap tapping at the glass but it was probably only the branches of a tree rattling in the wind.

When at last she opened her eyes the sun was streaming in through the window. All was well with the world and she smiled at her own ridiculous nature.

A note from the Baron was waiting for her at breakfast. He apologised for his behaviour the previous evening and offered to take her along to a dance being hosted by one of the local Dukes that evening. He explained that he had kept to himself far too much over the years and he now wanted to show off his new bride.

She wondered what had caused the sudden change of heart but did not care, she was going to a dance and would have plenty of other people to talk to; perhaps even her own sister would be there?

The day was bright and Abigail did not want to stay indoors. There was a whole day to pass until it would be time to ready herself for the dance and she needed to stretch her legs.

One of the closets in her room had been filled with clothing and she found a walking cloak along with outdoor shoes. It appeared that the Baron had thought of everything. Soon she was outside and enjoying the fresh clean air. The castle grounds were wild and unkempt but she did not care and as she wandered around she thought herself as Cathy looking for Heathcliffe, though she doubted that she would see Victor von Reichenstein before the evening.

Rounding the front of the castle she could see the little chapel in the distance. The wedding seemed a lifetime away; everything had happened in such a whirl; it had been so dismal on that day that it would be good to look around the place in daylight.