The Unknown Mistress - An Erotica and Romance Paranormal/Historical Novella (6 page)

And now the baroness wanted Jany to come to her chambers. Fancies of all kinds pressed in on her mind as she thought about seeing the baroness in private. It was impossible
not
to imagine
making love to that woman. A deep-buried longing burned strong in her, and now that it sensed a chance, it roared to life with a blind hunger. Was there was a chance that the baroness shared her preferences?

No. That was a ridiculous idea.
Silly, suicidal subconscious! You’ll get me thrown into prison!

Fuming, Jany rose and walked around her room, then jumped when a single chime rang through the city. The hour had come. She pressed the note to her chest and stared at the window. No more time to think. She could go, or she could hide in her room and hope that tomorrow would be more reasonable.

But she knew she had to go. Not only was she too curious, nervous and afraid to sleep; there was also the risk that the baroness might take a refusal the wrong way. What if Jany was pointed out as a suspect and found herself in the same situation as the ill-fated maids? It would not be the first time an aristocrat took out his or her anger on a common citizen. No, she had to go.

Opening the door as quietly as she could, Jany held her breath and hoped no one would be outside her room. She peered up and down the shadowy corridors. No one in sight. Apart from the splashing of the heavy rain, all was quiet. If she was spotted walking around like this, wearing her soggy clothes and far away from her own room, she was in trouble. But she could not go naked or in her nightdress. Besides, the castle seemed still, as if holding its breath for the morning. With luck, she would be unnoticed.

She closed the door and walked quickly down the corridor, heading towards the southern end of the castle.

*

Jany had to hide behind doors and walls several times to avoid being seen by passing servants, but after what felt like an eternity of searching and tip-toeing, she had located the baroness’s room. At least she hoped she stood outside the right chamber. There was no sign on the large oaken door, but it was situated at the top of the stairs in what had to be the right tower. It was her best and only guess.

Over half again as tall as she was, the door looked sturdy enough to hold back an army, but it was also carved with detailed patterns of delicate roses and thorny stems. Definitely not the door to an ordinary room. There was only one door in the hallway; all other walls were occupied by gigantic oil paintings, their motifs impossible to make out in the murk. Tall tapestries in purple velvet matched the long carpet that led up to the doorway.

Jany’s legs had felt the climb up the tower; the baroness’s room was five storeys above the street. In the hallway outside the door was a round window twice the size of a wagon’s wheel. It would have let some light in, if the moon had not been obscured by the oily, restless clouds. What little light there was came from a few small oil lamps placed in alcoves in the walls. The smell of wet stone and damp textiles hung heavy in the air.

Up here, the sound of the hard rain was much louder, battering the castle’s thick walls as if trying to wear the stone down. For the first time since the weather had turned bad, she was thankful for the rain; the noise drowned out the sound of her footsteps and all other noises.

 Walking up to the door on trembling legs, Jany wondered what awaited her inside. The baroness had to have a good reason for calling Jany to her private room. As soon as she opened the door, she might become hopelessly entangled in some obscure drama between two rival noble families. This whole business could even be a trap; rich people sometimes used hapless innocents to take the blame for crimes. That was nothing new.

Still, she had to go in. Disobeying a baroness did not rhyme with leaving this castle unharmed when she was surrounded by panicky lords and ladies. And that horrible witchfinder. One thing she was sure about: whatever happened inside the room would stay with her for the rest of her life. Her intuition told her that much, and her instincts was rarely wrong.

Holding her breath, she knocked on the door. When no one opened, she squinted, half-expecting to be attacked, turned the handle and pulled the heavy door open.

*

The room behind the door was so large that Jany paused on the doorstep. At least fifty steps from one end to the other, and with a ceiling so high it faded into darkness at least six metres above her head, the space was only marginally smaller than the castle’s great hall. On the opposite side of the room, a large fire blazed in a large hearth, its mantelpiece as wide as the roof of a small house. The unpleasant smell of dampness was dispelled by the flames and replaced by the scents of firewood and perfume. Three large windows, all facing north, would have provided a stunning view in clear weather. Now, the fire’s glow turned the glass panes into dark shimmering mirrors, constantly rippling as the rain washed down them.

As Jany’s eyes adapted to the light of the fire, she made out more details of the luxurious furniture in the room. In the middle of the floor stood a massive table that sat at least twelve people. Perhaps the baroness had had guests; near one end of the table were two wine glasses and a bottle of wine. In the middle of the table stood a row of ornate candlestick holders, all holding tall burning candles. Against a wall on her left were three wardrobes that each could contain clothes for an army. To the left of the table was a screen for changing clothes in private; to the right were a group of plush sofas in gleaming leather.

And, beyond the sofas, stood a four-poster bed that rivalled the table in size. It was easily the largest bed Jany ever had seen. The canopy could have been the former sail for a large ship, if sails had come in thick purple velvet.

Staring slack-jawed at the interior, Jany took a careful step into the room and closed the door behind her. “Madame?” she called. No response.

Uncertain, she took another step. She wondered if the invitation had been meant for someone else. Or was this a trap after all? The silence unnerved her. There were so many ways this could go terribly wrong. Unless she saw the baroness soon, she would run back to her own room.

Jany took another step and paused with her foot in mid-air.

The bed was occupied.

At first, she had thought the dark shape on the mattress was a trick of the dancing shadows created by the fire, but she had been wrong. There was definitely someone there, stretched out among the sheets, and it was not the baroness. The woman whom Jany had stood close in the stairwell earlier that night was tall and statuesque; this unknown person was leaner and shorter, probably as petite as Jany herself.

While Jany stared, the shape moved, and long hair spread over a pillow shifted. A woman, or possibly a man with a shock of hair. Goosebumps spread along Jany’s arms; there was something wrong with how the woman was poised in the bed, lying with her arms stretched out to the side and her legs straight and slightly parted. All the woman wore was a thin bodice. Jany could easily make out the outline of the woman’s body, and while she was very attractive, fear overrode all other sensations. What on Earth was going on?

Walking closer, Jany’s gaze strayed to the woman’s wrists. Was she holding on to something? A twirled towel, or a belt? She took another step, then gasped and raised her hands to her mouth.

The woman was bound to the bed. Even though Jany stood more than ten steps from the bed, she could see the ropes that held the woman’s arms and legs in place. She was awake too; the woman was breathing heavily and moving restlessly. Shadows made it impossible to see her face, but Jany had a feeling that the woman was staring straight at her.

Shock rooted Jany in place. Her throat was as dry as a sunbaked country road. She had come prepared for many things, but not this. Why, exactly, was there a woman bound to her hands and feet in the baroness’s room? Ignored for too long, Jany’s imagination offered its services and quickly offered a long list of explanations, but before Jany even had the time to be embarrassed, she was interrupted by a voice.

 “You came,” the baroness said quietly behind Jany.

Jany spun so fast she had to hold on to the table to keep her balance. The baroness stood near a wall, partially cloaked in shadow. Gone was the elaborate dress she had worn earlier; now she was clad in an evening robe in a rich velvety green. She must have stepped out from behind the changing screen.

“I found the note,” Jany said, realizing as she spoke that this was painfully obvious. She cleared her throat and added, “I wasn’t sure whether to believe the message was from you, but I hoped it was genuine.”

Jany closed her eyes and wished that she could start over.
Now I’ve suggested that the baroness could be a liar. Wonderful!
She might just as well throw herself out the window and save the executioner the effort.

To her surprise, the baroness smiled and looked bashful. “I must thank you,” she said. “I know this is inappropriate, but I did not know who else to ask.” She watched Jany nervously as if fearing that Jany would run away.

“But I am no one,” Jany said hurriedly. “There are many others of your kind he – I mean to say, you must have many distinguished associates and acquaintances who are staying here.” Apparently, Jany’s tongue was determined to get her into trouble.

But Jany was not entirely to blame. Part of the problem was the baroness’s robe; well cut and more snug than Jany first had realized, it seemed to cling to the woman’s body like a thin layer of misty jade. Imagining what the baroness would look like naked was painfully easy. Added to this were a few other troubling details, such as the baroness hiding behind a screen and looking extremely anxious.

And, of course, the bound woman, whom Jany tried to pretend did not exist until the baroness offered an explanation. At the very least, something
very
strange was going on. Strange and probably hazardous. Jany was constantly aware of the reason for her own presence in the castle: There was a rumoured vampire in the basement. Considering all the other outlandish events that were happening, it was likely that the women really were vampires.

As she waited for the baroness to speak, Jany glanced at the bed in sudden dread. Two of the baroness’s maids had already been afflicted by the curse. Now the baroness was frightened, and there was a woman tied to the bed. The wind pressed against the window and a log in the blaze cracked, sending off a small shower of sparks.

Watching the expression on Jany’s face, the baroness nodded solemnly. “That is Esabel,” the baroness said. “The third maid assigned to me by the duke. You know where the two other are.”

“Is she – “ Jany could not make herself say the words.

“I’m afraid so.” With a deep sigh, the baroness looked over at the woman, shook her head and shuddered. “It must have happened recently. I was fortunate that I noticed the signs, or I might have been caught by surprise.”

When Jany frowned, the baroness touched her long, graceful neck with two fingers. “The bite marks,” she explained. “The maid has them too. Fortunately, I was able to wrest her to my bed and tie her down before she had the chance to attack me.”

“Then there can be no doubt,” Jany said breathlessly. The tale was true after all.

In response, the baroness took a candlestick holder from the table and inclined her head, suggesting that Jany should follow her. Hesitatingly, Jany walked up to the baroness, and together they crossed the floor to the bed. The baroness held the candle over the bed so that Jany could see the maid better.

No more than twenty years old, and with a complexion that spoke of a eastern European heritage, the maid struggled faintly in her bonds. Whoever had tied her up had done a thorough job; the ropes were thin but long, and the knots looked tight and complicated. As the baroness had said, a pair of round wounds marred the woman’s otherwise pretty, slender neck. The injury looked sore; it had happened recently.

Jany could tell that the baroness was watching her so she tried not to stare, but it was difficult. While the maid was not as striking as the baroness, she was still so beautiful she would have a trail of young men following her in any tavern. Her eyes were large and light brown, and her wide lips were full and the colour of an old wine. The woman’s long dark hair was spread over the bed sheet like a halo of shimmering ink.

Oddly, Jany came to think of a concert she once had glimpsed at a theatre. A female cellist had played the lead, and she had been so passionate when performing that people in the audience had been fanning themselves as if flushed by the musician’s fervour. This maid seemed aglow with the same kind of intense vehemence. It was unsettling, peculiar, and stirring. Those large eyes were full of hunger.