Lord of the Fading Lands (3 page)

"Even though you've got a fine, kind heart," Lauriana continued, "and a strong back to make any man a treasured helpmate, young lads and their parents don't look for those blessings first. The lads want beauty. The parents want wealth. The queen's commission will probably be enough to bring Den's family up to scratch, but you don't have the time to wait for Papa to make a fortune so you can take your pick of men." Unspoken was the common knowledge that if a girl was not wed by twenty-five, she was obviously defective in some way. Spinsters were to be pitied—and watched carefully lest the hand of evil that had blackened their futures laid its shadow over those around them.

Ellie couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was obvious her mother had already decided whom Ellie would marry. "But I don't love Den, Mama." To her horror, her voice wobbled.

"Ellysetta." There was a rustle of skirts and then the unexpected warmth of her mother's arms wrapping around her thin shoulders and drawing her close. "Ah, girl. This is my fault." Lauriana sighed. "I should have done my duty by you long ago. But you were such an … awkward … creature, and we were poor. I thought you'd never be wed, so where was the harm in letting you keep your dreams?”

Awkward. Such a mild euphemism for the fearful truth Mama never voiced. Ellie knew her parents loved her, as did Lillis and Lorelle. But that had not stopped her from hearing the talk of others—or seeing the fear that Mama could never quite hide whenever ... things ... happened around Ellie.

"But you've changed, Ellie, and so have our circumstances. You've grown rather pretty in your own way, and this royal commission puts a few coins in our coffers, with the promise of more to come. Look at me, child." Obedient to the command and the accompanying hand raising her chin, Ellie met her mother's solemn gaze. "Life is never certain, Ellie. This is your chance to wed, and you must take it.”

"But, Mama—”

Lauriana held up a silencing finger. "Despite everything that happened when you were young, I've never curbed your love of Fey tales or your dreams of truemates and happy endings, but that's for Fey, not mortal folk like us. We don't have centuries to wait for true love.”

"I know that, Mama”

"Love will come in time, Ellie.”

"But not with Den, Mama!" How could it, when the very thought of his touch revolted her?

"Hush! You've not even given him a chance, Ellysetta. Den's not a bad sort, and he's certainly shown interest in you these last few months. His family's well enough, both in manner and position, and your children would never lack for food. Believe me when I tell you there's nothing worse for parents than hearing a child cry for food they cannot provide. Even if that child is not of their own blood.”

Ellie dropped her gaze as the reminder that she was not the Baristanis' natural child knifed through her. Almost twenty- four years ago, on a journey from Kreppes to Hartslea in the north, Sol and Lauriana had found an abandoned baby in the woods near Norban. A girl baby with a shock of orange hair and startling green eyes.

Despite the fact that they were grindingly poor—Sol's hands stiff and nearly crippled by an accident that had left him unable to work as a journeyman woodcarver—they had taken in the baby rather than leaving it to die. And they had kept her, even while Sol barely eked out a living on a few coppers a week as an apprentice carpenter, his broken hands managing to hold hammer, nail, rasp, and lathe, though they could no longer do the intricate detail work he loved.

They kept her even when mysterious, violent seizures afflicted her and the priests declared her demon-cursed. They'd even left their home in Hartslea rather than cast her out or give her into the Church's keeping as the exorcists and the parish priest advised them to do.

After that, thankfully, the family fortunes changed. Sol's hands had miraculously healed, and he'd been able to return to his first love, woodcarving. Ellie's ghastly seizures had dwindled, then stopped almost completely—a fact that Mama attributed to Ellie swearing her soul into service of the Light at her first Concordia in the Church of Light.

Still, Ellie had never forgotten all they'd sacrificed on her behalf. Now there was a chance for her to wed, if not well, at least well enough. It would ensure that Lillis and Lorelle would have the opportunity to make a truly fine match.

"You must trust your parents to do what's best, Ellysetta. For you and the family.”

"Yes, Mama," she whispered. She owed them that much and more.

"I know he's not the man you've dreamed of, but give Den a chance. And if another young man of good family asks to court you, we will consider his suit as well.”

"Yes, Mama."

"And wear your green dress tonight."

Ellie's shoulders drooped. "Yes, Mama."

That evening, Ellie donned her green dress and tried not to feel like a lamb being led to slaughter. At her mother's insistence, she wore Lauriana's bridal chemise beneath the green gown, and aged ivory lace fell over the backs of her hands, looking beautiful and feminine and delicate. Ellie wished she were wearing her own plain cuffs instead.

She stared hard at her reflection in the mirror. Startling green eyes stared back at her, looking too big in a too wan face, accentuated by prominent cheekbones and a slender nose. In the last year or so, her eyebrows and eyelashes had darkened to a deep auburn. The slashing wings of her brows were now exotic rather than pale and washed out, and once her eyelashes had darkened, their thickness and length had become apparent. She had been grateful for that, though at this moment she could have cheerfully wished them back to the transparent pale orange of her childhood. Her mouth was too wide, she acknowledged critically, her lips too full and too red. Her teeth, however, were white and straight, one of her best features.

She decided not to smile tonight—at least not so she showed any teeth.

She had ruthlessly subdued her wild tangle of hair into a knot on the top of her head, and for once was glad of its bright, unfashionable color and the rather severe style. She stepped back from the mirror. Unfortunately, Mama had been right about the dress making her look nice. The green color was flattering, and the bodice, laced tight to push up her breasts, made her look slender rather than skinny. She was still too tall to be considered feminine by Celierian standards. Flat-footed, she could look Den straight in the eye. Ellie thrust her feet into her highest-heeled shoes and immediately grew three inches.

Satisfied that she'd done exactly as her mother asked, and as much as possible to mitigate any hint of prettiness, Ellie made her way downstairs to the family parlor.

Den was already there, sitting across from her father on one of Sol Baristani's finely carved settees and chewing a chocolate caramel with relish. His stocky body was clothed in what appeared to be a new dark blue plaid suit, cut just the tiniest bit too tight, with a yellow neckcloth tied in folds about his thick neck. A gold pin, shaped like a rather ungainly bear, glinted from the folds of the neckcloth. His brown hair, greased with a strongly scented pomade, was slicked back from his face, with a puff of curls carefully formed at the top of his broad forehead. His skin was ruddy, his nose partly flattened from a series of childhood scuffles, and his eyes were pale blue rimmed with stubby black lashes.

He was attractive enough, in a rough, butcher's son sort of way. That wasn't what bothered Ellie.

He looked up, caught sight of her, and jumped to his feet, crossing the room to stand uncomfortably close to her. His gaze swept over her, then homed in on the swell of bosom thrust up against the delicate fabric of her mother's best chemise. A bosom that was three inches closer to his face thanks to her decision—poorly considered, she now realized—to wear high heels. His tongue came out to lick his full lips.

That
was what bothered Ellie.

Fighting the urge to cross her arms over her chest, she forced a stiff little smile—no teeth—and said, "Good evening, Den. How nice that you could join us tonight.”

"You look very pretty, Ellysetta." That came from Papa, of course. Den was still salivating over her bosom.

"Thank you, Papa." She was grateful for the warm love shining from Sol Baristani's eyes. And for his presence in the parlor. The gods only knew what Den would have tried had they been alone. Judging from the look on his face, she wouldn't have liked it much.

"Mmm. Yes," Den agreed, licking his lips again. "Very pretty." His pale blue gaze traveled up her neck and paused at her mouth. When finally he met her gaze head on, there were spots of color in his cheeks.

For a moment she imagined she felt a disturbing hunger.
His
hunger, she realized, and it wasn't for food. Sudden panic roiled inside her, tying her stomach in knots and making her break out in a clammy sweat. If he touched her, she knew she would be sick.

"Ah, Ellysetta. Good." Mama's voice snapped through the strange emotions that had captured Ellie, and she dragged in a gasp of air. No wonder she felt ill. She'd held her breath until she was dizzy!

^`-
to ask you to help me," Lauriana was saying, "but I've changed my mind. You look far too pretty to risk soiling your gown in the kitchen. Don't you agree, Den?" It was an embarrassing maternal attempt to draw a compliment from Den, but the young man didn't hesitate to oblige her.

"Indeed, Madam Baristani." Den bowed at the waist as if he were a lord's son rather than a butcher's. "Ellysetta looks lovelier than I have ever seen her." The smug smile was back.

"Sol, perhaps you would give me a hand instead?" Lauriana suggested with a pointed look.

Ellie's eyes went wide with panic. "I don't mind helping you, Mama!" She heard the shrill desperation in her voice. "Really, I don't.”

"Nonsense. You stay here and entertain your young man. Your father is happy to help me." As they exited the room, her mother flashed an indulgent smile at Den and said in a coy, entirely un-Mama-like voice, "We won't be but a few chimes, children.”

There was no mistaking her humiliatingly obvious scheme, and Den was quick to take up the unspoken invitation. As soon as Lauriana's skirts disappeared down the hall, he stepped closer to Ellie, his square hands reaching for her. She stumbled backwards to escape his pursuit, only to find herself stuck in a corner, trapped between his arms, staring in horrified revulsion as his thick, wet lips tried to attach themselves to hers. Ellie escaped the kiss with a quick twist of her body, and tried to duck under his arm. She wasn't quite fast enough, and her slender muscles were no match for his solid bulk. After a brief, undignified tussle, she found herself back in the corner, pulled tight against his body.

"Come on, Ellie" His breath was starting to come a little faster. "We both know why your parents left us alone. There's no need to play the coy maiden. I don't want anything more than a kiss or two." He grinned, showing two rows of sharp and slightly crooked teeth. "For now.”

"Den, we hardly know each other.”

He laughed. "We've known each other since childhood, Ellie.”

"But not like this … we've just been ... er … friends." They'd never been friends. He'd been a taunting bully who liked to make her cry.

"I want to be more than friends now" His hands roved over her waist, and his lips descended, glancing off her cheek as she jerked her head away. Den drew back slightly and chuckled. "I've been watching you for some time now, Ellie," he murmured, his voice thick and possessive. "Granted, you weren't much to look at as a kid, all orange hair, freckles, and knobby knees. But lately, you've started to show a little promise" That smug, secret smile flashed again, and one thick- fingered hand came up to cup her chin. "I've decided to make you my wife, Ellie Baristani.”

He didn't ask. He just said it, as if she had no choice in the matter. She stared at him, aghast, wondering how in the names of all the gods she was going to get out of this with any measure of grace. "Den, you … er... honor me, but—”

"Shh." The hand on her chin moved to cover her mouth. "There's no need to say anything." Her eyes widened in outrage and sudden fear as the hand on her mouth clamped down harder and Den lowered his head to her neck.

Her stomach lurched as something warm and wet touched her skin. Was that his
tongue?
A stinging pain at the base of her throat made her yelp against his silencing hand. The little bloat toad had
bitten
her! He sucked at the spot he'd just bitten, and once more that warm, wet tongue licked her. Oh, gods, she was going to be sick!

Outraged and repulsed, she grabbed two handfuls of his hair and yanked. Hard. She kicked his shins, too. He just grunted and shoved her against the wall, pinning her with the heavy, unmovable weight of his stocky body. Before she could draw breath enough to scream, his mouth was on hers. His lips were wet and slippery, and that horrid tongue was on the loose again, this time trying to get inside her mouth.

Without warning, one hand closed around her breast. Instinctively, she opened her mouth to scream. It was exactly the wrong reaction, and one he'd obviously been counting on. His hand shot up to hold her jaw open, and his tongue thrust deep into her mouth. Her screams, muffled by his mouth, came out as frantic little squeals that seemed only to excite him further.

Never in her life had Ellie been assaulted this way. Where were her parents? How could they have abandoned her to this ... this ... mauling?