The Virgin Widow Read online

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  Forbidden Publications

  www.forbiddenpublications.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Lillith Payne

  First published in 2008, 2008

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  The Virgin Widow

  For My Husband

  Chapter 1

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  About the author:

  Welcome to Forbidden Publications

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  The Virgin Widow

  by

  Lillith Payne

  The Virgin Widow

  Lillith Payne

  Copyright © 2008

  Cover Art by Dawnè Dominique © 2008

  Editor—Jessica Damien

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web without permission in writing from the publisher. For information, please contact the publisher via regular mail.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  ISBN: Not Assigned.

  Published by Forbidden Publications, July 2008

  Forbidden Publications

  PO Box 153

  East Prairie, MO 63845

  www.forbiddenpublications.com

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  For My Husband

  My thanks to Rene Walden-Wilson, owner of Forbidden Publications, for her support.

  Thanks to my very patient editor, Jessica Damien,

  and to Dawné Dominique for my stunning cover art.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 1

  "If a tree fell in the forest and there was nobody around to hear it, would you still bitch?” While Duke Zane Trahorn's body language was disciplined, his voice was cruel and harsh.

  "Really, sir!” Serena exclaimed, surprised by his outburst. “Our coach being driven off the road surely isn't within my control.” Staring directly at him, she watched the vein over his right eye tighten. His left was covered with a black leather patch and she didn't dare ask why. His left arm was tied close to his body in a silken sling, his fingers flexing. She'd been warned he was hard to deal with but was given no other choice. This was her new lot in life and she'd accept it with as much grace as she could muster, especially under the circumstances.

  "My request is not outrageous; an hour to bathe and change from my traveling dress before our wedding service seems quite within my rights. As you are aware, we've been traveling five days.” Her look dared him to confront her further but he didn't. Instead, he nodded his head to the formally attired man who stood quietly in the doorway waiting for his command.

  "Don't take any longer. I have guests waiting.” With his order issued, Serena figured she'd been dismissed but couldn't hold her tongue. And while she knew better, she didn't hold back her words.

  "Then it would seem all the more important to make a favorable impression.” She stood to her full height, realizing he was one of the few men she'd met who was taller than she.

  Knowing he was watching every step, she forced an outward calm she didn't feel inside. Their heated exchange started when she arrived, his brown eye openly surveying her. Allowing herself the same rude gesture, several seconds passed before she drew a breath. He was much younger than she'd been prepared for. The patch only gave his dark hair and skin a dangerous foil. His chin was squared and solid, his lips full. Serena realized she was wondering about kissing him. The idea was absurd; he was a total stranger to her. Just because a bargain had been struck didn't mean he would love her or show her any true affection. Yet deep inside, she wondered briefly what it would be like to be touched by him.

  "DeVore, see Lady Elgar to chambers and have hot water brought up.” He gave her a scathing look and didn't refrain from adding, “Satisfied?"

  Serena knew better than to challenge her soon-to-be husband a second time, especially in front of his servant, so she simply smiled and nodded. “Yes, thank you."

  Turning towards the tall, balding man with a kind smile, she continued towards the door, her words directed at him. “A cup of tea and my black trunk will do me nicely for now, Mr. DeVore."

  "Just DeVore,” he said and she nodded, giving him a genuine smile. Just as she was about to leave his study, she couldn't help herself from turning back towards the duke.

  "I'll be ready in an hour.” Watching him refill his cup, she felt her stomach roll at the idea of his being a drunkard. Sweeping the hem of her muddy gown with her right hand, she calmly left her almost-husband alone to drink himself into a stupor—she hoped. Her first impression of him wasn't as she'd dreamed and Serena could only assume his introduction to her wasn't what he'd been expecting.

  She was shown up the half-round stone staircase and ushered to the end of what seemed to be the west wing of the castle. There she met Hilda Haddock, the housekeeper.

  "A nice cup of tea and a hot wash will do wonders for you, I imagine,” she said by way of greeting. “Which gown would you like to wear?"

  A flurry of young servants brought in buckets of hot water, filling the wooden tub at the far end of the chamber. It sat to the left of the huge fireplace, the fire warming her already.

  "What is the duke's favorite color?” Serena asked Hilda, after being told to address her that way. She refrained from surveying the chamber too openly. While she wanted to run her hand along the fine carved wood bed stand, she instead started to strip off her road-worn traveling cape and shoes.

  "I'm not sure, Miss. He's always favored brown and black for himself.” She was about to add something further, but didn't.

  "Then the grey one, I think.” With the door shut behind the last of the boys, she didn't hesitate to start stripping off her traveling dress. “I do wish I had time to wash my hair, but I suppose it would take too long to dry,” she said, thinking aloud.

  "We'll give it a quick wash and you can sit before the fire for a few moments to catch your breath."

  Serena nodded, dropping the last of her underclothing and stepping into the small tub, immediately dunking her head. When she surfaced, Hilda was behind her with a bar of lavender soap, helping to wash the dust and road dirt from her long brown curls. In no time, it was rinsed and Hilda draped her hair outside the tub facing the fire. “There, now you sit a moment and let it dry while I pour your tea. Would you like honey?"

  "No, just black, please; it smells wonderful. Why mask the taste?” she said, accepting the hot, fragrant brew. Serena settled back in the water and let Hilda rummage through her trunk for her gown and clean underclothing. After wearing the same traveling clothes for five days, she hoped never to see them again. Several times while she soaked, Hilda came and re-spread her hair before the flames, a satisfie
d smile on her lips.

  "It's drying nicely,” she said aloud, but not necessarily to Serena.

  Serena's mind was filled with too many questions for any of them to become coherent, so she asked none. Finishing her tea, she forced herself from the water, the lavender scent clinging to her skin and hair. The drying cloth Hilda handed her was softer than she'd expected and her smile was genuine. She didn't know how carefully she was being watched.

  Accepting help with her serviceable undergarments, she noted Hilda eyeing her and spoke before the woman could. “I know my style is probably a bit staid but why spend so much money embroidering clothing nobody will see? It all seemed such a waste to me. Court life was more a fashion show than anything else..."

  "Good quality will last,” Hilda remarked. Her own gown was a two-piece wool garment in sturdy brown wool without any adornment. Serena had assumed once she was shown to a chamber, a maid would help her. Never did she expect the housekeeper to stay and act as her hand maid.

  "Is there anything I should know about the guests, Hilda? Any major subjects to avoid?” Before the other woman could answer, she added, “And the duke, has he any ... dislikes?” Through half-lowered lashes she watched Hilda scurry around the room, laying out her personal items on a mirrored dressing table.

  "The guests are mostly longtime friends. They all live within a day or so travel. I would think politics and religion would be deemed unsuitable for a first meeting, but that's just my personal feelings.

  Hilda hesitated and Serena quickly put in, “You hesitate, Hilda. If I am to become the duchess and make the duke happy, any bits of information will be helpful."

  "I'm sure you'll do just fine, my lady. The duke will guide you through the next days."

  That was exactly what she was afraid of, the complete unknown. And now it seemed her subconscious mind was letting her believe she could love him as a husband and he would love her one day. The idea was silly and she was old enough to know better, but the inner warmth she felt each time she thought of him was disconcerting, to say the least. His hard stare was meant to intimidate her. Instead it brought a challenge of wills. The idea of his large hand with long, thick fingers touching her skin made her blush red from head to toe. It was time to move on; being late was the last thing she wanted tonight.

  If things had gone as planned, they would have arrived early in the day and been wed by now. As it turned out, their delay had brought them to the duke's castle near nightfall, leaving her no real view of the land or its keep in the dull rainfall. Inside was warm and well kept, but she had no other inkling of what her new home looked like.

  Serena let Hilda twist her hair and didn't bother to step before the mirror when she was done. It was clean; that's what was important. Never having been one to spend hours getting ready for anything, it was a simple, yet elegant gown of brushed silvery-grey silk she stepped into. Unadorned, with plain lines and straight sleeves. She wore no apron in lace or silk as was considered a sophisticated accessory; instead, she let the lines of the gown show off her small waist. Almost with a groan, she allowed Hilda to add a simple lace collar, adjusting it against her skin, already feeling it choking at her.

  "How long have we taken?” she asked, finally moving before the looking glass, satisfied with her appearance.

  "It's almost time."

  "Then I must go, or the duke will not be pleased.” Serena didn't hold back a small laugh and Hilda smiled broadly.

  "Come, it won't be so bad; soon you'll be the Duchess of Trahorn."

  "Yes, that's what I'm afraid of!” She laughed aloud and finally so did Hilda. She felt a bond building between them. While not really knowing why, somehow the woman's mothering ways made her feel relaxed and confident. She walked beside the housekeeper, asking the first question that came to mind. “Which is the duke's chamber?"

  When Hilda cleared her throat several times before answering, Serena knew something was amiss.

  "He is in the south wing."

  "And the rest of the guests?"

  "Here in the west wing,” she said, before adding, “Mostly.” There was something about her tone that made Serena stop their progression and stare at the older woman. Several things went through her mind to ask, but instead she defaulted, not wanting to question Hilda just yet.

  "When things settle down, will you show me the rest of the castle and the keep, Hilda? I'd like to know the names of the servants and learn my way around as soon as possible."

  "Of course. DeVore will help, too. We generally don't have much company, but with the wedding service...” Hilda glanced away. Serena felt something lacking to her description but understood not to put Hilda on the spot.

  "Thank you for your help with my hair and for the tea, Hilda.” They were standing at the top of the stairs, DeVore waiting at the bottom.

  "Off you go; DeVore will show you in.” Hilda was gone before Serena could say anything further. At the bottom of the steps, DeVore nodded his approval.

  "Into the lion's den,” she mumbled, not realizing the butler could hear her, surprised when he laughed lightly.

  "Not quite so bad,” he replied, and after several seconds she burst out laughing. While he refrained from joining her, she saw the second tilt of his lips.

  Serena stood at the parlor door, listening to the conversation in the room, touching DeVore's arm when he would have interrupted. With a nod, he took a step back, leaving her standing there alone. Scanning the room quickly, she saw ten or twelve people, but one stood out immediately. A fair-haired woman was adorned with lace and pearls, her hair so uniquely arranged, Serena wondered how she stood up with the weight. But her cold blue eyes gave Serena a chill. Instantly she knew this woman would be trouble if she let her. Having no idea who she was, she got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she watched the woman's slim hand stroke Zane's right arm. It was a possessive move, anyone who witnessed it would realize.

  "Got yourself a brazen little chit, hey, Zane?” The voice was deep but with humor. Unfortunately, it was blocked by the door so she couldn't see its owner.

  "Most likely the journey was disconcerting.” Zane's voice was strong and she realized he was defending her in his own sparse way.

  "Let's hope so, for your sake!” another voice added and Serena steadied herself to make an entrance. Just as she was about to, the other woman spoke.

  "Leave him alone; can't you see he's nervous about the marriage? It's not too late to send her back, you know. Why you think you must marry now is beyond me.” The woman's voice held malice and instantly Serena thought of her step-brother.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Two

  Zane watched her openly, thinking she was too young and much too pretty to be a widow three times over. Maybe an inner death wish had him agreeing to her half-brother's proposition. Without fancy clothing or hairstyles, she was still beautiful. Having met William Elgar, he now understood his haste to marry off his half-sister and get her away from his keep. She was the complete opposite of the short, overly fed and overly obnoxious man he'd met. In reality, he'd expected his new bride to be somewhat the same and was more shocked at her appearance than he would ever allow her to know.

  Zane rubbed his temple; he knew a headache was coming on. As he finished the mead in his cup, a servant was there instantly to refill it.

  "The girl couldn't help being driven off the road. I can only assume she took a fright at the experience."

  "I do hope she recovers some of her stamina for tonight!” Serena couldn't see the person who voiced his opinion once again, but knew it was without malice.

  Everyone in the room laughed, except for the duke. Nobody was to know he had no intention of bedding her. She was for show only; no emotions would he allow himself to feel for her. Protecting himself was utmost in his mind. He noticed Fiona watching him and wondered if she could read his mind. With her small smirk of a smile, he suddenly took a dislike to her attitude. After all, she was the one who facilitate
d the situation by marrying the earl. If only she'd waited for him to recover, but Fiona didn't have faith in him. Conversation in the room continued without his input.

  "Pretty thing, what little I saw of her. Of course I'm sure she'll look much better once she's cleaned and dry.” Again the room of people laughed. The sound of the fair-haired woman's chuckle echoed through her ears.

  She could stand no more. Serena took a step forward into the doorway and only by speaking did anyone notice her.

  "Surely you can judge for yourself, my lord.” With a second step into the room, everyone quieted, including the woman who seemed attached to Zane Trahorn's side. She slowly bent into a graceful curtsey before continuing. “I do apologize for keeping you waiting; it's been a simply dreadful trip. A callous driver and coach forced us off the road and left without even an offer of help.” She glanced around the room, watching each face and knew it was the female's coach instantly.

  "It was disconcerting, but the duke's men were quite clever to have fixed the coach so quickly, especially under the circumstances. I did feel sorry for the horses. Such disregard for life, even animal, always annoys me.” Serena knew all eyes were on her and drew a deep breath, adding, “I'll recognize the crest on the coach door when I see it again."

  There was a tension all around her and she knew it was up to her to defuse it. If she was to become the Duchess of Trahorn; bad manners wouldn't do. “Well, have I passed everyone's inspection?"

  She paused for only a second before laughing aloud. Everyone relaxed around her, only she noticed the lady beside her intended husband didn't. Serena was sure the woman knew the future duchess was on to her.

  "Do get on with the ceremony, Zane. The rest of us are famished, waiting for your bride.” She glanced to Serena with narrowed eyes as if waiting for her to confront her.

  "I quite agree, the situation has left us all off schedule. And it wouldn't do for the new Duchess of Trahorn to be impolite to her guests, even though I've not been introduced yet."