His mouth slanted possessively across hers. Opening to him, she deepened the kiss, equaling his fervor and wrapped her arms around his neck drawing him closer into her warmth.
Desire exploded through him as her hands swirled across his back. She clung to his chest whimpering as she bit his bottom lip, holding it captive between her teeth.
Stefan plunged his tongue again into her mouth. His desire to taste her was so strong he thought to never stop kissing her. With a moan, he seized her body and rolled across the bed, allowing her to lie across him for just an instant, as he wanted to see the outline of her curves through the firelight.
Apparently, going slow was going to prove more difficult than he once thought. Stefan tried to focus on anything but the blood roaring through his ears as Rosalind's hands began to smoothly explore his body.
"Enough," he said gruffly, grabbing her hands, and turning her on her back yet again. "Enough." He hesitated a second before stripping the remainder of his clothes and joined her yet again, skin on skin, heat radiating from their bodies. He swore no other man would ever touch her, would ever know her. The last thoughts he had before making her his wife.
Rosalind awoke with a smile on her face. Slightly embarrassed at her behavior the night before, she was surprised she felt as rested as she did, especially considering her husband had her up half the night with his lovemaking, a fact Rosalind was not at all ashamed of.
Thirsty, she looked to the right of the bed and noticed her wine glass. Trying not to wake Stefan, she reached for the glass just as his arm came crashing around her body.
"Are you well, Rose?" His voice was haggard with sleep.
"More than well, Stefan. I was merely thirsty."
He sat up in the bed and rubbed her back, massaging the tight muscles as she lifted the cup to her lips.
Rosalind drank the contents of her wine, relishing the taste of sweet berries, and… what was that other unfamiliar taste? In question she raised her eyes to Stefan's ready to speak, but the words would not come.
Shaking her head against the dizziness she saw in front of her, she tried again, but her lips would not move, her body it seemed was paralyzed. This was no sleeping spell. This was, something much worse.
"Rose? Rose!" Stefan was shaking her body, the last thing she saw through the blurry haze of nothingness was a lone tear run down Stefan's cheek. And then blackness.
"Rose!" Stefan's body seemed frozen in place. How could he help her? He looked down at her lips, red as a Rose, yet paralyzed, her eyes now closed. The wine, it had to be the wine.
Cursing he leaned down to listen to her heart, it still beat. She was alive, yet he didn't know how long or what would happen if he didn't get the poison out of her system.
A menacing laughter pierced through the night sky.
"Finally! Do you think it was easy spying on the two of you? Lying in wait until you drank of the wine? I thought I would go mad at the sound of your wicked lovemaking. Is she gone then?" The Dowager Countess of Hariss burst through the door, dagger in hand. "He told me how much to use, and I believe I got it just right. Not truly enough to kill her, but I dare say it would take a miracle for her to wake up. Don't you think?" The dowager's eyes were blazing with hate.
"Your own daughter!" Stefan's scream was hoarse. "How could you do this to your own family!"
"Your family has taken everything that I've loved, Your Grace. I believe we're even."
It took everything in Stefan not to charge the mother and drive the dagger straight through her heart. "I've done nothing! The curse has made you mad!"
With a scream, she kicked the table over and began pulling at her own hair. "You have done everything! You and your wretched family! If I didn't have to marry into your family, I could have been happy."
She took a seat on the bed, her fingers slowly grazing the edge of the dagger, back and forth back and forth. Laughing, she looked up at Stefan again. "I was to be married before I met Rosalind's father. Of course you didn't know that, but your grandfather did. Because of the curse, I was forced to marry. Imagine everyone's surprise when I could not gain children from my husband? They blamed me, they all blamed me!"
A tear escaped down her cheek. Stefan realized the only thing he could do was merely sit and wait for the woman to calm down before he stripped her weapon and tied her up. He draped a blanket over Rosalind, and waited for the woman to continue her insane speech, all the while trying to keep a trained eye on Rosalind in hopes that she wasn't worsening by the minute.
"Blamed you?" Stefan managed to sound curious. "For what?"
"They said my wickedness caused my husband harm! They said—" she panted for breath "—that if I didn't give him children, the curse would take over the families. It wasn't enough that we married. We needed children…"
"You have children. You sold one and are attempting to kill another…" Probably not the best time to remind the woman of her madness, but Stefan's anger was having a hard time staying at bay. A whimper escaped Rosalind. At least she was making noise. Panic seized his heart. He could not lose her now. He couldn't live if he did.
"They are not my children!" She wailed. "None of them! Edward is their father."
"Are you not their mother?" Stefan noticed Rosalind's eyes flutter. Thank you, God, he thought.
"I carried them yes, I birthed them, but it was always my fault that my husband could not father children. For my wickedness with another man, the same man that fathered them. And now he hates me — he has turned on me all because I wanted the money."
"The money?" Truly, if Stefan wasn't so worried, he would have a half a mind to be confused. Was she merely mad or speaking truths?"
"Yes, we needed money. But we have money now, and we have a title. The curse is broken with you two married, but I could not allow you to be happy. I am sorry. I really am. But it would not be fair for you two to be happy while I have been sad and rejected all my life."
"Forgive me, but you've been given everything." Stefan argued. "A titled husband? Wealth? And children, regardless of where they came from."
"Love!" the witch yelled. "Acceptance! It's all I wanted from my husband, from Edward, or from his family. I received nothing. None of it. So I take from you what you took from me."
Stefan was dizzy with her speech. "And what did I take from you?"
"My husband. You killed him!"
Rosalind stirred. Stefan made a move to stand in front of her as she lay across the bed. No telling what her insane mother would do. Perhaps he was right, and she was the type to eat her own young.
"I did nothing of the sort." Stefan said in soothing tones. "He died of the curse, do you forget?"
"You rejected Rosalind! It killed him! His heart was weak! You killed him!" She manically waved the dagger in the air. "So I killed her. I have no care for those children; they may as well be adopted. Because of them, I was hated. You do not deserve to be happy. Now, we are even." With a laugh, she laid back down on the bed. "Yes, finally! Edward! I did it for you, Edward! We are even! And now we can be happy together…"
Rosalind stirred again. Stefan muffled a curse and looked out the window. How to escape without causing Rosalind harm or getting killed by the evil mother? A movement caught his eye.
Samson! Of course! He whistled and quickly thanked his lucky stars that his horse was in fact part human, or at least seemed to be as he lifted his head to unhook the branch his lead was tied to and walked slowly to the door.
Stefan made a promise to give Samson his body weight in oats if they pulled this off.
Rosalind stirred again, and suddenly Stefan's memory brought forth pictures of their first meeting, when she fell into his arms. When the horrible curse started. If he could go back and change those words, he would. For it was never the idea of marriage that put him off, and now looking at her helpless body, he realized he would do anything and everything in his power to protect what was his. Even if it meant leaving.
Rosalind's mother shrieked and cac
kled as she kicked her feet on the bed. It was now or never. As quiet as possible, he lifted Rosalind into his arms, and noticing that he had mere seconds before the mom charged after him, he ran to the door threw it open and put Rosalind on Samson.
"Take her home boy, take her home." Rosalind's body was lying across Samson, she would be fine. The minute Samson trotted away; he heard a shriek as though from the pit of Hell emerge from the direction of the cottage.
He leapt out of the way just in time as the dagger flew from the witch's grasp, aimed straight for his heart.
Now, she was without a weapon. She ran at him eyes blazing. A shot rang in the distance, and the insane woman fell to the ground.
Mr. Fitzgerald dropped the pistol, his hands shaking. "I didn't know her madness had reached this far… I saw — I saw the horse and Rosalind…" He looked down at his hands then back at Stefan. "Did I kill her?"
With his heart beating wildly in his chest, Stefan checked the dowager's body for a pistol shot. "No, you hit her in the arm. She stirs even now. The walls of Bedlam will be the first thing she sees when she awakens."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The heart will break, but broken live on.
~ Lord Byron ~
Rosalind's mouth tasted bitter and dry. What had happened? The last thing she remembered was the wine and Stefan and…
"Stefan!" The blackness of the room brought terror rather than comfort. Where was he? Where was she?
Frantic, she looked around, not noticing anything familiar about her surroundings.
The door clicked open.
"How are you feeling?" Stefan's mother walked in with a worried expression plastered across her face.
"I…" Rosalind found she couldn't speak. "I'm not sure. Is Stefan here? Is he alright?"
The Dowager Duchess of Montmouth smiled. "Well. The last time I've seen him this worried was when his father died. Though he never took to spirits like he has now. I believe my son has also taken to talking to his horse." She smiled to herself and shook her head. "But I assure you, he will be fine. He survived a shipwreck after all. Now dear, how do you feel? Can you move?"
Rosalind tried to wiggle her toes. Everything felt right, except for the nagging tiredness that seemed to plague her body. "Was it another spell then?"
"The wine." The Dowager sat on the bed and patted Rosalind's hand. "Child, it seems your mother was trying to poison you and Stefan."
"But…" Rosalind's mind was barely able to wrap around the idea. "Surely she's mad, but to kill me? Her own daughter?"
"Bitterness does things that sometimes we do not understand, Rose. I've brought your godmother here to the house to attend to your needs. Your sister wasn't to be found anywhere on the estate, perhaps she was out."
Rosalind shifted, so Stefan hadn't told anyone of her sister's betrothal. "Isabelle is to be married to the new Earl of Harris. She left a day ago."
"I know, dear, and how sad that must be for you. But I was talking of Gwen, the sister with that raven black hair. She seems to be missing. It is of no matter though. I've told Stefan to locate her at once."
"Gone?" Gwen would never run away, would she? What if something happened to her? "And mother?"
"At Bedlam. Now rest dear. You both have done your jobs, the curse is broken, even Fitz is getting better."
Rosalind nodded and laid her head back on the pillow. She couldn't help but feel a nagging suspicion that things were far from over. With both sisters gone and the families' health returning, why did she feel so horrid? Granted, her own mother had tried to kill her, but she had been slowly going mad ever since her father died.
With a sigh, she fought to close her eyes. Perhaps Stefan would have some answers upon his return.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
There is no instinct like that of the heart.
~ Lord Byron ~
Stefan cursed as he kicked the desk in front of him. How had Gwen done it? The only clue they had of the whereabouts of the youngest sister was now with Gwen. And the middle sister was now traveling in search of her.
All of them under his protection. Both gone, and his wife had almost died. Could things possibly get worse? The only positive in the whole situation was that the curse seemed to have lifted. Fitz health was returning to normal, his mother was able to walk around without much help and Elaina was back to being Elaina.
Another problem he had no desire to look at. It seemed to be the woman's only joy in life to enrage Stefan with every word that dripped from her mouth. To think that he would even think of having an affair with the woman! He was married, as was she, and he didn't forget the haughty looks thrown between James and her when Fitz was on his death bed.
For the past hour he hadn't been able to bring himself to read the correspondence that had arrived in the post. The letters written in black sealed his fate as well as Rosalind's. He wondered, truly wondered, how it had come to this. The truth of Rosalind's birth was still pounding in his head. His conversation with the next in line to be married did nothing but make his mood plummet. After all this time, he had to believe there was some sort of hex on their family and if he didn't marry the rightful bloodline of the deceased earl, then everything would be for naught.
"Stefan?"
He turned to see James standing in the doorway, looking very much the dandy known to the ton.
"What is it?" He snapped.
"Mother says that the duchess has awoken. She asks for you." The butler handed James his hat and gloves.
Stefan's brow furrowed. "Where are you off to?"
James laughed. "Truly? You ask after all this madness has taken place? I have every intention of getting foxed and staying out all night in celebration. The curse is broken and I'm feeling better than I've felt in years. Perhaps I'll visit my mistresses, eh?"
Not the luckiest ladies in London, Stefan thought eyeing his dandified sod of a brother. "Yes, perhaps that would be best, after all. We wouldn't want Elaina getting too attached, hmm?"
"Nothing happened between us."
"So you say," Stefan muttered. "So you say."
James cursed. "What do you expect me to do? She threw herself at me! You wouldn't happen to be jealous, would you brother? After all, you've everything you need. A title, wealth, a wife… oh wait. Apologies, it seems your wife isn't technically in the best capacity to please you, is she? Well, I'm sure you can convince Elaina to attend to your baser needs."
Stefan pushed away from the desk and then charged his brother, ramming him into the nearest wall. "Speak poorly of my wife again and I'll put a bullet through you. Do you understand?"
James snorted, pushing Stefan off of him. "Oh I understand brother. Good day."
He sauntered off, leaving Stefan shaking from the whole episode. He needed to see Rosalind, but the last thing he wanted to do was admit that he had failed her. Yes, the curse was broken, but he wasn't even man enough to protect her sisters, nor would she be happy to find out that her father was not a blood relation but a stranger without a face.
With a sigh, he dragged his feet to the large stairway and slowly ascended. The woman had been put through so much, why was he always the cause of her pain?
Rosalind dreamt of the day she danced with Stefan in the snow. Of the playful way he teased her, and his horrid proposals and finally his kisses.
She awoke to the smell of hot biscuits and tea.
"That's it." Mary said sitting on the bed. "I knew a good cup of tea would wake you up, after all, it's said to have healing properties. Mr. Fitzgerald brought it over first thing this morning. Worried sick, he is."
Rosalind smiled, but didn't reach for the tea. But who could blame her? With nerves as strong as a feather she wanted nothing more than to see her husband and have a good cry. Well that, and perhaps a blood sizzling kiss.
"Ahem." A male voice came from the doorway.
"Stefan!" Rosalind didn't mean to yell, but she couldn't help the relief she felt at seeing his face.
"I see your voice
hasn't met any harm, just as loud as ever. Ah Mary good to see you, do you per chance have our cane close by?"
Mary grunted and sauntered out of the room.
"I think she's beginning to like me," Stefan grinned and closed the door, locking it behind him. "How do you feel, Rose?"
Her breath hitched, which was all it took for Stefan to rush to her side and pull her into his arms. "I'm so sorry, Rose. I swear I'll make it better. I swear it."
"Just hold me."
"With pleasure." Stefan pushed the hair away from her eyes and kissed her eye lids. "I could not bear to lose you, Rose."
"Did she truly—"
"Your mother was mad, Rose. A sane woman would never cause her children harm."
Rosalind nodded.
"I need to tell you something, and I fear it isn't going to make you feel any better. Would you rather I waited until you were out of bed and walking?"
How much worse could it get? "Tell me now, please. Just promise not to let go of me."
"I believe I can manage." Stefan pulled her into his lap, cradling her head in the crook of his shoulder. "Your father…" He paused and looked away. "He was a good man."
Rosalind turned her head to look Stefan in the eye. "Yes." Her words were tentative. "Was that what you wanted to say?"
"For now…" Stefan bit his lip. "Well, that and both your sisters seem to be missing now. Gwen has gone after Isabelle. Apparently she understands more of that horrid language than she let on. For she took the betrothal contract with her. A note was left that she would return once she reached the location where Isabelle was taken. Unfortunately, she refused to tell us where that specific location was."
Rosalind shuddered. She should have known Gwen would do something like this. "We have to go after her."
"We… will do nothing. I, however, have plans to do exactly that." Stefan pushed the hair away from her brow and bent near to bestow a kiss upon her face. "There is something else."