ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories) (3 page)

Glancing to her right she looked at the only other guest. She could not tell if it was a man or woman, the figure being wrapped in a large cloak, but as she passed the head turned to look at her. The face was partly covered but what she saw shocked her. A white and bony face with large and searching eyes peered out; giving her a ghastly smile as she passed. The poor thing must be terribly ill. 

It was only as they approached the front of the chapel that a dark figure stepped out of the gloom, as if out of nowhere to stand by her side. It was the Baron.

She had expected the dishevelled body of an old and bent man, yet the figure towered above her. Abigail hardly dare glance at him and her breathing quickened as she started to panic. It was actually going to happen, she would soon be the Barons wife and her instinct was to turn and flee, but for her family's sake she took in a deep breath and lifted her chin a little higher.

It was not the usual ceremony. Abigail had attended the weddings of several friends and family in the past but the service was like none she had witnessed before. The priest was not dressed in the usual style. Instead he wore a silver and white cloak depicting many strange symbols. His words were foreign to her ears, Latin perhaps but she did not recognise them. Even the chapel itself was sparsely decorated, with none of the usual statues; not even a crucifix. Even the bibles and prayer books were absent. 

The Baron produced a ring from his pocket; a heavy gold band that he handed to the priest. Abigail felt a cold hand touch her own and she turned to face her future husband for the first time.

It was his eyes at first that shocked her. They were deep and dark and seemed to look straight through her. The face was striking, almost handsome; debonair some would say and yet there seemed to be an unutterable air of sadness about the man. The whole effect almost caused her to swoon and she closed her eyes to steady herself as his cold fingers slipped the ring upon her own warmer one.

The final words of the priest signalled for the organ to start up once more. It seemed that the ceremony was over. There was no lifting of the veil or kissing of the bride and Abigail could not tell if she was relieved or disappointed, her emotions were so mixed. 

Taking her by the arm the Baron led her back down the aisle and away from her father and sister. The Baron was her family now.

She noticed the sickly figure had disappeared, perhaps sitting in the cold and draughty place had been too much for the poor soul?

It was already dark as they stepped out of the chapel and back into the main hall of the castle. The main hall was well lit and warm and added an unexpected welcome cheer to the event after the drabness of the chapel. At last Abigail was able to remove her veil and as she did so she noticed the Baron staring at her again in his peculiar way. It was if he were looking straight into her very soul and she could feel her heart start to pound once again. Light refreshments had been provided, the old man who had first greeted them silently stirring the hot punch and ladling it into small cut glass bowls; yet it was not a festive atmosphere and the small group stood stiffly together. All knew it was a marriage of convenience and it was difficult to celebrate such an occasion. Father and daughters chatted amongst themselves whilst the Baron silently watched from a corner of the room.

After an acceptable time had lapsed John Carmichael made his excuses to the Baron for both he and his youngest daughter to leave. Abigail grasped at her father’s hand, she was to be left alone in this drear place with the Baron. It was too soon and her eyes begged her father to stay for a while longer but it was of no use. The deed was done and their staying would only prolong the sad goodbyes.

Abigail clung on to her father’s hand as long as she could until finally he pulled away and left her at the door of the great castle looking silently out into the night.

"You had better step inside and close the door my dear otherwise you will catch your death" his voice was deep and cool, like the sound of a river after heavy rain and with only the slightest hint of an accent.

He was close behind her and she could almost feel the brush of his breath upon her neck. Her hands trembled as she turned around to face him, alone with her new husband for the first time, a man she barely knew. The Baron was well over 6ft tall and he made her feel tiny by comparison. The same dark eyes glowered into hers and she could not tell whether he was pleased with her or not. Abigail wondered if he was having second thoughts on his choice of bride. Her mind raced for conversation, desperate to break the forced awkwardness. The Baron seemed a man of few words and she had to fill the silence.

"Your guest did not stay long, perhaps they were ill. They did not look well at all?"

His hand touched her shoulder lightly and his brow furrowed.

"You must be mistaken my Dear. I have no guest and did not invite anyone to the wedding but your family. Even my trusted servant Joseph did attend"

An image of the pale, skeletal face flashed through her mind, it was not an image she could have easily imagined.

"You are mistaken Baron, the cloaked figure sat alone on the right of the aisle. I presumed it was someone of your own family or acquaintance?"

His eyes narrowed slightly but his countenance did not portray any emotion.

"I think you must be mistaken. Perhaps one of the servants did attend against my wishes but that is by the by. Now we are married you must call me Victor, Baron is a little formal don't you think? Now you must let Joseph show you back up to your room. It has been a long day and you must be tired."

Abigail stood in confusion. She had been preparing herself mentally for her wedding night and had fully intended to perform her wifely duties, whatever they may be.

Victor watched the expression changing in her eyes, his own cold and stony,

"I may not have explained myself fully to your father. I need a wife in name only and would not expect anything else from you. The people of the village fear me and I hear the names and superstitions that surround this castle and the name of Baron von Reichenstein.

I am hoping that with you by my side, if only in public, these stories will diminish. Now if you will excuse me I have some urgent matters to attend to. Joseph will show you the way back to your room. I will not see you until tomorrow evening. Until then. Goodnight."

With a brief kiss of her hand and a bow of the head he was gone. Abigail stared after him open mouthed. She felt as if she had been slapped in the face and had never felt so insulted. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as Joseph crossed the room with a smirk and with a wave of his arms beckoned that she follow him.

Safely back in her room she bolted the door before sinking onto the bed. The whole marriage was just a sham, a fake, a front to help restore the Barons good name. She had thrown away all chance of happiness for a lie.

Her image in the mirror now looked ridiculous- her hair was tousled and the dress, once beautiful and a symbol of purity now seemed to be sullied and dirty. Tugging at the gown fastenings she pulled the garment over her head and let it fall onto the floor.  A beautiful white cotton nightdress had been laid out on the bed but this too she threw onto the floor. She did not want anything from the Baron- it was all a mistake- tomorrow she would return home. 

Slipping her old gown over her head she looked at her reflection in the mirror- the same eyes looking back at her, perhaps a little older and wiser than earlier. Of course she couldn't go home, the Baron had saved her family from ruin, and although she hated him she must keep her part of the bargain for the sake of her father and sister.

The thought wearied her. She was exhausted and emotional and needed to rest. Laying her head back onto the pillow she allowed her body to sink into the deep and comfortable mattress and very soon she was asleep.

A sound awoke her in the dead of night. She had been dreaming that someone was in the room watching her and she held her breath and listened carefully. Opening her eyes she lay very still without moving and looked blindly into the darkness. There it was again; a slight fluttering noise from somewhere in the room. Abigail sat up and looked around the room as her eyes became accustomed to the darkness. The curtain covering the window was fluttering gently in a slight breeze; she hadn’t noticed that the window had been left open and moved to close it. As her hand reached the fastening a great shrieking sound erupted from the corner of the room and as she turned towards the noise a great black shadow flew through the air directly at her. Instinctively she raised her hands to cover her face as great wings rushed past her, the tips rippling her hair as the creature flew through the open space and was gone into the night.

Abigail closed the window quickly and made sure the latches were securely fastened. Her heart stammered in her breast as she sat back down on the bed to catch her breath. It had been a bird, a trapped bird and that was all. It must have been frightened poor thing and she had disturbed it; that was all.

It was late when she awoke the next day. A brand new set of clothing had been laid out for her; some of the most exquisite items she had ever seen. It seemed churlish not to wear them; she had made her bed and it was up to her to make the best of things. A sleep had refreshed her and she felt more positive in the morning sunlight.

Stepping tentatively out of her room she made her way along the long corridor and down the vast stone staircase to the main hall. Despite the day being a pleasant one, the castle was cold and damp and she shivered as she stepped across the marble flooring.

“Hmmmmm”

Abigail turned at the sound of a man clearing his throat. It was Joseph, a man it seemed of few words.

Bowing politely before her and holding out his arm towards a door to the left, he escorted her into the drawing room.

The room was bright and cheerful and not at all what she had expected. The floor was carpeted with rich wool rugs that her dainty slippers could sink into. A huge fire blazed in the fireplace and was surrounded by a comfortable looking couch and chair all covered in a bright material that depicted colourful images of birds and butterflies. A small table had been set for her breakfast and as she took a seat Joseph poured her tea into a delicate rose teacup. Abigail could not help smile at the sight of the gnarled old retainer playing at mother.

The whole room was fresh and clean, a bowl of white roses stood on a table by the window and Abigail wondered if this had all been prepared just for her. The Baron was such a dark and strange figure that she doubted that all this elegance could be for his own comfort. It was a shame that he was such a cold and distant man or things might have been different.

After she had eaten and Joseph had cleared away her dishes, he showed her into the library; another cheerful place with a great fire in the hearth and every wall filled to capacity with books. She had thought that they would be old and dusty tomes, dull and incapable of entertaining her, but she was surprised at the variety of the content. Most of the volumes appeared to be new, the latest novels, travel and adventure books, cookery and art, poetry and history; most beautifully bound and containing full colour illustrations. One smaller area was covered by a curtain and drawing it back she was surprised to see a collection of old and dusty volumes. They were probably the Barons private collection and she closed the curtain again without further thought. There was enough reading material here for a lifetime and she wondered again at the nature of the Baron; a man who appeared to have such a wide and exquisite taste.

The library did not only contain the books. Set out on one of the tables was a set for embroidery and tapestry making; a set of paints; watercolour, oils and brushes plus an assortment of canvases and papers and a beautiful wooden writing set containing enough pens, ink and writing paper to write her own novel. Someone had been very thoughtful indeed.

Abigail filled her day looking through the books and the beautiful gifts. There was no doubt that these things were meant for her amusement and the day flew by quickly, only interrupted by Joseph when it was time for her lunch. She wondered about the other servants in the house. She had only seen Joseph, yet surely the castle was too vast for one man to look after? There had been the strange figure at the chapel and the Baron had alluded to other servants. They were obviously silent workers and kept themselves to themselves,

For most of the afternoon Abigail found herself absorbed in a new book; a first edition of a book called Wuthering Heights by a new author called Emily Bronte. Its dark tale of love and passion set against the backdrop of the wild Yorkshire Moors struck a chord with the young girl and she was fascinated by the dark and captivating Heathcliffe, and as she read she pictured the face of the Baron.

By the time her eyes had grown too tired to read any further; the afternoon sky was dimming, the sun almost set in the west and Joseph appeared to light the lamps and to add more coal and wood to the fire. A small, golden carriage clock chimed out the hour, the small bell striking five times; she had been married for 24 hours and had hardly seen her new husband. What kind of work kept him away for most of the night and day?

Joseph stood close by and cleared his throat and with a wave of his hands he ushered her through the door and back up the staircase to her room. At the doorway she paused and turned to speak to him but he had already gone and was disappearing down the great stone staircase.