Page 2 of When the Laird Claims
Slowly, her gaze flitted to him in the mirror’s reflection, for she did not yet want to look at him directly. His lips were pulled back into a thin, displeased line. He was going to get as close as possible in an attempt to make her uncomfortable, to make her back down like he always did. She could not allow it. He was already getting everything else from her; she would not surrender that too.
“To what do I owe this displeasure, my lord?” Victoria said slowly, her voice low and laced with every drop of venom that she possessed for the man she was about to marry. “Do you not know that it is bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”
“How could I resist seeing your lovely face?” Charles answered as he placed a hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him.
He pressed his cheek against her cheek as she was forced against his chest, though her hips tilted backward to try to steal a sliver of distance from the beast. Her skin was already itching like mad where he had hurt her; she did not need the rest of her skin to be crawling, too.
With the sharp edge of his temple digging into hers to keep her head where he wanted it, he made her stare at their reflection in the long mirror in front of her.
Victoria recognized the woman staring back even less than before: blue eyes dull and bloodshot, framed by dark circles; her long brown hair wrapped around the crown of her head in braids so tight her scalp stung, studded with seed pearls and bits of baby’s breath flowers; and the drab, cream wedding dress that washed her out until her complexion was positively ghoulish.
A smirk twitched on his thin lips. “Are you as excited to be married as I am, my pet?”
It was harder and harder to contain her bile.
Victoria did the only thing there was to do; she smiled a false, saccharine smile. “Of course I am, my lord. So giddy I coulddie.”
The surest way to get back at him was to do anything that she could to keep from showing him the reactions that he wantedfrom her. Sickeningly, her despair was as encouraging to him as a fond smile from a woman was to othernormalmen.
“What a lucky devil I am, to have the Diamond all to myself,” Charles continued as he reached around her shoulders to pinch her chin and cheeks in his hands possessively. It made her feel like a child.
Devil is right. Even Hell itself would not wantyouback.
When she spoke next, she chose her words carefully. As they had an audience, he could only go so far in his reactions to her. “Of course, my lord. Goodness, I truly cannot wait to be married to you. After all, being your wife means that I will haveallthe keys to the rooms in my new estate.”
Anger flickered across the Earl’s features at her words, and the grip he had on her face tightened until she had no choice but to flinch. “Have I told you lately that I admire your spirit most of all, Victoria? Yes, you are beautiful, but beautiful is so commonplace, so boring.”
The tension in his voice belied the true meaning of his words; he wanted to break her spirit more than anything. She had a feeling that it was the chase that he loved, her defiance the only thing that kept him interested in her. She could not always tell whether that was a blessing or a curse. It depended on the day.
“Now, you would not be foolish enough to try to pull any of the antics that you pulled last week, would you?” he said. Warned, rather.
Ah, that must be the real reason he was here. Could he really fault her for attempting to run away? He was always so “careful” about making sure that she could not go anywhere, and that it was as difficult to escape from him as possible.
She had learned the hard way that therewasno escape.
The smile slipped from her face. “I would not dream of it, my lord. I have learned my less–”
Before she could finish, the door to the bedroom burst open once more, an exhausted and out-of-breath footman standing there, gasping for his words. Whatever news he was going to deliver, she knew that it was not going to end well for anybody in the room at present.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” the Earl barked at the clearly distraught man.
“My lord, you must come at once–”
“Somebody had better be dying or dead for you to walk in on my bride like this! Avert your greedy eyes!” the Earl hissed again, his voice taking on something of a shrill, nasal desperation.
The footman instantly trained his gaze on the ground, and seemed to have all the more difficulty breathing for the way that his chin was dipped low. “We are under attack, my lord. You must come at once!”
The Earl’s grip on Victoria’s face tightened in his frustration to the point that she had no choice but to wince and attempt to shrink back and out of his hold. He cast her aside so roughly that she lost her balance, and the two maids made no attempt to prevent her from hitting the ground with a winding thud or help her back to her feet once she was down there.
It is quite all right. I am better off here anyway.Victoria cast the maids a dark look, but they were not focused on her, too invested in the Earl’s response.
“The bloody hell do you mean we are under attack? Who in their right mind would want to attack me?”
Sometimes, Victoria’s tongue worked more quickly than her brain. “I can think of a person or two…” She muttered, just loud enough to be heard.
“What did you–”
The Earl’s words were cut off by the sound of something crashing in the distance. The maids screamed and immediately took off to the semi-hidden servants’ door beside her four-poster bed, forgetting that, like Victoria, they were not meant to do anything without their masters’ say-so.
