Father glared at me the entire time we said our vows—my new husband in his gruff but steady voice and me tripping and stumbling over the words. It was only when the magistrate pronounced us man and wife and we signed the wedding contract that he nodded in approval.
“Kristina,” he said, stepping forward as the magistrate left the screen. “This man, Lord Wanerite, is your new lord and master. Be a good and faithful wife and obey him in all things and you may in time redeem yourself.” The curl of his lip and the sneer in his voice made it clear he considered this a remote possibility.
I didn’t want to be a 'good and faithful wife' but the choice wasn’t mine—I was married now whether I liked it or not.
“From this moment forth, I have no daughter.” Father’s eyes flicked over me in disgust. “And no son, either. If you see your brother again, tell him he’s disinherited. I want nothing more to do with either of you ungrateful wretches.”
“Yes, Father,” I whispered, my throat tight.
“Don’t call me that,” he snapped. “Not anymore.” He looked at my husband. “Lord Wanerite, Kristina is yours now, to do with as you please.”
My new husband nodded gravely. “I quite understand, Admiral Jameson. Have no fear—I will treat her well.”
Father snorted. “I don’t give a bloody damn how you treat her, Wanerite. Beat her every night if you like—just never let me see her again.”
Lord Waneright nodded again. “As you wish.”
“I consider this matter concluded,” Father said. The viewscreen went black and he was gone.
“I believe it’s time to go.” My new husband took my hand in his and interlaced our fingers firmly. There was something about his grip…I looked down to see his hands but they were gloved in black, hidden from my sight. I wondered how old he was—his voice sounded as though he gargled with gravel every morning. Was that the result of extreme old age or just another side effect of the parasites that had eaten his face?
I supposed I would find out soon enough.
Without protest, I allowed my new husband to lead me out of the house and into the waiting hover limo.
My new life had begun and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Chapter Thirty-six
“To the spaceport and hurry,” my new husband told the automated limo which sped promptly away with us in its belly. He turned to me. “I wish I could offer you a honeymoon at an exclusive resort but I’m afraid my business doesn’t allow it. We must be on the ship and out of Dianna’s orbit tonight.”
“I understand,” I said softly. Honestly, it didn’t matter to me where we honeymooned. Why should I care where I spent my personal season in Hell? I wondered if he would try to touch me…to kiss me… The very thought made my stomach roll. Not because he was a Skelly head, though—because he wasn’t North. No other kisses could ever be as sweet, no other caresses as tender.
Put him out of your mind, I advised myself as the limo sped down darkening streets toward the spaceport. You’ll probably never see him again and you have to live with this…this Aldus person for the rest of your life. So you’d best stop thinking of the past.
Of course the advice was easier to give than to take. Still, I forced myself to look away from the limo’s window and turn to face my new husband instead. To my discomfort, I found that he was studying me intently, the glitter of his hidden eyes behind the mask never wavering.
“Um…” I searched my mind for a topic of conversation. What did one say to one’s new husband who was a complete and total stranger? “What should I call you?” I asked at last when he seemed disinclined to help me out. “Would Aldus be all right or do you prefer Lord Wanerite?”
“Just Wanerite,” he said shortly. “For now that will do.”
“Yes, my Lord.” I looked down at my fingers, wishing he would stop staring at me.
“Does my gaze make you uncomfortable, Kris?” he asked softly.
I looked up quickly. “How did you know that was my nickname?”
He shrugged. “It seemed a logical assumption. But you never answered my question. Does it make you uncomfortable when I look at you?”
“A little,” I confessed. “I…I’m not really much to look at.”
“I disagree—you’re lovely. I especially like your hair this length.” Reaching out, he brushed a stray strand of hair away from my eyes with one gloved hand. “Beautiful,” he murmured, as if to himself.
I could feel my cheeks getting hot. “Th-thank you, my Lord,” I stammered. “You are too kind.”
“Oh? You may not think so by and by,” he remarked ominously.
Before I could get the courage to ask him what he meant by that, the hover-limo came to a halt at the Victoria spaceport.
To my surprise the ship we stopped in front of seemed to be a commercial vehicle rather than a private one. A few crew members dressed in blue jumpsuits were loading packages into the docking bay while others scuttled over the outside of her vast, white flanks, making sure she was ready for take off.
“Here she is. The Lakota.” I heard a note of pride in my new husband’s gravelly voice which somehow made him sound younger. “Not much to start with—just a inter-moon transport. But she’s going to do some interstellar jumps as well. It should be an interesting journey.”
“It will?” I looked at the ship with a slight twinge of hope.
“Oh, yes.” My new husband nodded. “There’s plenty to see out there among the stars. If you’re not afraid to take the journey.”
“I’m not afraid,” I breathed. “I thought…I guess I thought you’d just take me back to Midas and we’d live there.”
He shook his head. “No, we’re going to be living on the ship for a while. Would you like that?”
“Yes, very much,” I said before I thought about it. Maybe I would get my dream of exploring the stars after all. Then, I remembered that I wouldn’t be exploring them with North and my fleeting feeling of euphoria was abruptly crushed. Oh North, if only you were here. None of this means anything without you!
“Are you all right?” My husband sounded genuinely concerned and I realized I was crying.
“Fine,” I managed to say. “I’m fine.” Quickly, I dashed the tears from my eyes and tried to smile. “Forgive me, my Lord. It’s been a long day.”
“Of course.” Rising, he stepped from the limo and held out his hand to me. “Allow me to show you to your quarters.”
I took his gloved hand and then his arm, which he extended to me as a gentleman should. At least he has manners, I told myself. I was certain my father had gone out of his way to pick me the worst husband he could find—why else would he marry me off to a Skelly head? But maybe he had made a mistake in Lord Wanerite. After all, outer appearances could be deceiving as I very well knew.
We walked up the gangplank and into the interior of the ship. Inside it was all long corridors and brushed steel—a thoroughly professional place but with a few personal touches such as the name plaques hung on the cabin doors. We passed the crew’s quarters, a spacious airy bridge, and a communal kitchen before coming to the private sector.
I could tell it was private because my new husband had to punch a code in the tastefully recessed keypad to raise the blue energy field which separated it from the rest of the ship. Once the blue field lifted, I was treated to the sight of a much more luxurious corridor, one which was actually lined in soft moss green carpet. Here the doors were made of rich wood instead of brushed steel and the plaques outside the cabins stated offices instead of names. “First mate,” declared the first one. Across from it was one marked “Captain.” And a little farther down was a door with the designation, “Navigator.”
This was the door my husband stopped at. But there was no keypad to punch a code into. Instead, a hand-plate was affixed to the wall just beside the door.
“Here.” He motioned to me. “Put your hand on the plate. Let the ship read your prints.”
“I don’t understand,” I said bl
ankly as I pressed my palm to the plate as he had indicated. “Are you the ship’s navigator?”
“No,” he said as the door slid open to reveal a small but luxuriously appointed cabin. “You are.”
“What are you talking about?” I stepped across the threshold and turned to face him. He followed me and the door slid shut behind us with a quiet whoosh.
“I said, you’re the Lakota’s navigator—if you want to be, that is.”
I shook my head. “Is that why you married me? Because you heard about what I did? How I attended The Royal Academy in disguise and learned navigation there?”
“I did hear you were at the top of your classes before you were found out,” my new husband rumbled. “But no, that’s not why I married you.”
“Then why? I don’t understand.”
“You will, in time.” He stepped back, still regarding me through the featureless plague mask. “This is your quarters but I will visit it at any time I see fit.”
“Yes, my Lord.” I felt my cheeks go hot as I considered what he was saying. No doubt he would expect me to fulfill my wifely duties, regardless of how I felt about the situation. His next words confirmed my thoughts.
“It is our wedding night, Kris. Do you know what that means?”
“I…I think so.” I dared a quick glance at him and then looked down to study my hands.
“Good,” he rumbled. “I’m going to check with the crew and give them some departure instructions. When I return, I expect to find you waiting in the bed for me. Wear the pink nightgown you will find in the wardrobe. Do you understand?”
I nodded miserably. He was my husband now—my lord and master and I was a prisoner on his ship. What else could I do? “Yes, my Lord,” I whispered.
“Very good,” he said again. Then he swept out of my room in a swirl of black and was gone.
For a long moment I just stood there in the center of the room, dazed. How had it come to this? Was I really going to have to give myself to this man who was a complete stranger? Not a stranger—your husband, chided a little voice in my head. And you don’t know anything about him except he’s a skelly head. Would I have to see him without his mask on? Would he be horribly hideous?
To be honest, I didn’t care. Anyone but North would be hideous to me—what did it matter if my new husband’s face looked like a skull? Dully, I forced myself to go across the room to the large four poster bed and the wardrobe which stood beside it.
I supposed I should remove the crimson gown and get ready for bed. Not that I would get much sleep once my new husband came back. I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought. God, I couldn’t, couldn’t go through with this.
But you must, whispered my little voice. And anyway, it’s a fitting punishment for all your lies and deception. That was probably true but it was little consolation. Sighing deeply, I opened the wardrobe and looked through the clothes hanging there.
To my surprise, they seemed to have been picked especially for me. All of them looked to be my size and they weren’t all dresses and skirts as I had been required to wear all my life in Victoria. There were actually several pairs of trousers as well. Could it be that my new husband was a more liberated man than I had first thought?
Don’t kid yourself. So what if he lets you dress in pants—he still expects you to do your wifely duty whenever he commands. How liberated can he be?
A very good point. With a heavy heart, I pulled out a pale pink negligee with lace at its collar and sleeves. “Wear the pink nightgown,” he had said. It was a virginal, delicate thing, the exact color my wedding dress would have been if my time at the Academy hadn’t made me into a “fallen woman.” Was my new husband trying to tell me something? And if so, what? I fingered its silky material thoughtfully before pulling off my crimson wedding dress and putting it on instead.
Just as I slid into bed, I heard the door of my new quarters open with a quiet whoosh. Hastily I burrowed under the covers, unable to face my new husband or duty I would be required to do.
“Kris,” he said quietly in that deep, gravelly voice. “Are you ready?”
I forced myself to peak over the edge of the blankets. “Yes, my Lord.” The words came out in a squeak but I couldn’t help it—my heart was pounding and my throat was dry. All I could think of was that this stranger was about to touch me and I would have to let him. It was going to be a thousand times worse than Wilkenson’s unwanted kiss and all because the man touching me wasn’t the one I wanted—wasn’t North.
My new husband walked over to the bed. Standing by my side, he loomed over me looking impossibly tall in his outfit of unbroken black. “Should I leave the lights on or turn them off?” he asked softly.
“Off please, my Lord,” I said before I thought about it.
“Very well.” He laughed harshly as he turned out the lights, plunging the room into darkness. “So that you can avoid looking at what’s under my mask, no doubt.”
“Oh, no—no, my Lord,” I protested. “Just because I…I’m shy, that’s all.”
“I have heard of your excessive modesty.” His voice softened somewhat and the bed creaked as he sat down on the side of the mattress, just inches from where I lay. “I hear that you managed to pass yourself off as a boy at The Royal Academy and no one was the wiser because of your caution.”
“I hid myself as well as I could right up…up until the end,” I whispered, remembering the horrible feeling of being naked between Broward and his henchmen. “I…I was attacked in the showers and found out.” Then I realized how that must sound. “I was attacked but not…not taken,” I hastened to assure him. “I was rescued before anything…improper could take place.”
“Before you were raped, you mean,” he said flatly. “I had hoped as much.”
“Is that why you got me a pink nightgown?” I asked hesitantly.
“Among other things. Tell me about how you were rescued.”
“My roommate—he came in just in time. I think my friend told him there was trouble.” I sighed wistfully. “He was always coming in, just in the nick of time to save me. He seemed to know exactly when I needed help the most.”
“Too bad he couldn’t save you this time,” my new husband remarked.
I closed my eyes, fighting back tears. “He…he wouldn’t want to. He hates me now for my deception and I can’t blame him. It was awful, what I did—the way I lied.”
“Maybe not quite so awful. You were protecting yourself in a dangerous situation,” he offered gently.
“I should have found another way. I shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” I whispered. “I hurt so many people…hurt North…”
“Was that his name?” he murmured.
“Yes.” I buried my face in my hands and sobbed. “I’m sorry, I just…I can’t…can’t seem to forget him.”
“Do you still love him?” His harsh voice grated in my ears and I feared the consequences if I answered truthfully. But I had done enough lying.
“Yes,” I whispered. “So very much. Forgive me, my Lord. I know that is not what a man wishes to hear on his wedding night but—”
“On the contrary—it is exactly what I hoped to hear.”
His statement startled me so much that I looked up, peering at his indistinct shape in the darkness. “What?”
“Earlier, you asked me why I married you, Kris,” he said. “I married you because I still feel the same way about you that you feel about me.”
“I…I don’t understand.” I shook my head. “I’ve never seen you before tonight.”
“Is that what you think?” The lights flipped on suddenly and I winced away from their brilliance. When my eyes finally became accustomed, I saw that my new husband was once more standing beside the bed.
“My Lord?” I said, uncertainly.
“Kris,” he whispered. He took a step toward me and reached for his mask. As it fell away, the voice modulator which had been attached to the inside of it detached as well, and I heard his words in a more fa
miliar tone. “I married you because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Because no matter how angry I was at you, I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”
“North!” I gasped, staring into his familiar piercing blue eyes. I stumbled out of bed and stood in front of him, scanning his tall form frantically. The black clothes seemed out of place but the rest of him—his tousled golden hair, his sharp features—were so wonderfully familiar. Still, I couldn’t quite believe it. “North, is it really…really you?”
“It’s really me.” He dropped the mask and voice modulator on the ground and took my hands in his. “I married you because I still love you, Kris.”