The Mask Ch 03

Soft. Warm. Tired.

Those were the first thoughts that ran through her mind as she slowly opened her eyes. She stretched and yawned, letting her fingers roam over the soft silky sheets. She never remembered her sheets feeling so soft before.

The room was warm too. Annie must have started a fire for her. She turned over and snuggled back into the bed, then slowly opened her eyes. She blinked a couple times and stared at the unfamiliar desk that was against the wall.

She sat up, finally realizing that she was not in her own room. Looking down she noticed she was wearing no night clothes either. She pulled the sheet over her breasts and looked around the room.

It was painted a dark colour, a fire was burning in the fireplace. A desk was under a window, with the curtains drawn shut. Over the fireplace was a painting of a handsome man and beautiful woman, in between them, a little boy. Below the painting, on the mantel, were several masks.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The night before came back to her. She was married. Not only married, but married by order of the King of England. No bans were read, no wedding was planned. Just a priest and a contract. Why a priest she wondered. She knew the king wasn't Catholic, maybe Eric was.

Eric Lancaster. Duke of Ridgemont. The name sent chills up her spine. She was now the Duchess of Ridgemont. A title that her father had promised to her older sister. They were always told she was betrothed to the Duke.

Deep down Miranda always knew the Duke wouldn't marry Sabrina, not after what happened 10 years ago. The scars. She let out a cry as if it just occurred to her what his scars meant. It was her fault. If he ever found out, he would kill her.

This was something she was going to have to keep to herself. He would never find out the truth. It would be her life and the life of their child if he ever did.

She sat there for a while, just looking around the room. Wondering where her husband was. She had fainted upon finding out his name. She knew he would want to know why, and she had to think up a good reason. Maybe stick to the truth, that her older sister wanted to marry him. And that was the reason.

She slowly moved to get out of the bed. As she put a foot on the ground, the door opened. She quickly hid under the covers and pretended to be asleep.

She peaked out and saw the masked man staring at the bed, a bemused look on his face. Slowly he reach up, took off the mask, and tossed it on the mantel. He then walked over to his desk, stumbling a couple times.

He paused at the desk, slowly slipping a ring off his finger, and placing it down. He then turned and looked back at the bed. The low light of the fire made the scars on his face glow. He slowly moved to the bed, climbing on it, fully clothed.

"Wife..." he said with a slurred voice, as he tugged down the sheets and smiled. "Beautiful."

Miranda turned and looked at him, a little frightened. He moved over top her naked body, his hand going to her breast, playing with the nipple.

The warm feeling in her stomach returned and she opened her mouth to gasp.

"There is it." he muttered as he leaned down and kissed her. He loved the little gasps she made. He also loved how she always kissed him back. Her arms went around him to pull him closer. He moaned as he moved himself over her. His hand left her breast, and went to his pants to free himself.

Miranda wonder why he still had his clothes on. She wanted to see him. Slowly her hands made their way under his shirt, and up his back.

"No," he said harshly as he grabbed her hands and held them over her head. "No." he said again as he kissed her.

"Why..." she panted as he broke the kiss.

He looked down at her. It was harmless, he knew that. She just wanted to see what she had married. She might be able to look at his face, but he knew she wouldn't want to see what his body looked like. He just shook his head, and moved to spread her legs.

He moaned as he looked down at her glistening pussy lips. He let go of her hands, and moved his own to her. He slowly ran his finger tips along her outer lips, looking up he watched her eyes half close and a moan escape her lips.

"That's it, beautiful," he muttered as he slipped a finger into her. She gasped and pushed her self against him.

She didn't fully understand the feelings that were over taking her, she just knew she wanted more. She wiggled and pushed herself against him, panting heavily.

"What do you want, beautiful?"

"More..." she panted.

"More what?"

"I don't know..." she moved up against him again.

He chuckled as he removed his fingers. She moaned and arched towards him. He slowly licked her juices off his hand, then moved to put his penis against her.

"You want this," he said as he kissed her and pushed himself deep inside her.

They both moaned. Her at the feeling of being full and the warm throbbing feeling of him. He loved the tight feel of her pussy milking his penis. Slowly he moved in and out of her. She pushed back at him with each thrust.

Before he knew it, his balls tighten and he came deep inside her.

"Mira..." he panted before rolling off her and falling asleep.

Miranda laid there for a few moments, then sat up and looked at him. He looked so peaceful while asleep. She frowned at him being fully dressed. He didn't want her to see his body. She knew that. But she had to. It couldn't be that bad. His face wasn't that bad.

Slowly she put her hand against his chest. He moaned slightly, but stayed asleep. Slowly her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt and she started to undo them.

He continued to sleep.

She finally got the last one undone and moved to push his shirt off him, when his eyes opened and he stared at her. She just sat there, her one hand against his bare chest. Slowly her let her fingers run over his nipple and smiled at him.

He growled slightly as he stared at her. Slowly his eyes closed again and he sighed.

"Don't," he muttered.

"I just want to see you."

"I don't care," he opened his eyes again. "Just to go sleep." His eyes closed.

She sat there for a couple moments, looking at him. Then slowly her hand started to move again, running up and down the left side of his chest. He sighed in contentment, but the moment her hand strayed over the the right, his eyes shot open again.

"Miranda," he said in a tired slurred voice. "I'm tired, I'm half drunk, I've been forced to take a wife I didn't want. Although your touch feels amazing, I do not want you looking at me. Now lay down and go to sleep or I will beat you."

She sighed and sat back, her arms crossing over her breasts, a pout on her face. He turned his head and looked at her.

"Sleep," he ordered.

Slowly she moved and got under the covers, turning away from him, she rolled to the other side of the bed.

She heard his sigh, then his breathing even out. Moments later he was snoring. She laid there for a couple minutes, then drifted off to sleep herself.

The next time she awoke, she was alone. She sat up in the bed and looked around the room. The fire out and light was leaking through the closed curtains. She moved to get out of bed, looking for her dress, the only thing she found was a man's dressing gown.

She slipped on the silk robe, then found the chamber pot. Once she had relived herself, she started to wander around the room. She moved to the closed curtains, and opened them. She was surprised to find a pair of double doors, leading to a balcony.

She stepped out and looked over the back courtyard of the house, then over the roof tops of other houses. Walking around, she touched some over grown plants, and paused as she ran her fingers over a beautiful red rose.

Slowly she moved over to a bench and sat down. She breathed in the morning air. She wondered why Eric chose to live in London. She was sure he had a country estate somewhere. He would be able to hide from people more in the country.

She hoped he had a country estate. She liked the country better then the city. Her father's country estate raised horses. She loved going for long rides in the countryside. She frowned as she realized that if Eric never left his house, she probably wouldn't be able to ride a horse in the country again.

"My lady," a voice said behind her. She turned and gasped as she saw Henry standing there. "I'd come in now."

"Why?" she asked as she turned back and looked back at the rose.

"He won't like it," was all Henry said. There was history he knew she should know about, but it was not his place to tell her. "Please, my lady, I have breakfast."

"Very well," she got up and walked back into the room. There was a little table laid out by the fireplace with two place settings. She heard Henry close and lock the doors, then shut the curtains.

"Leave them open." she said.

"I'd rather not," Henry said as he continued to closed then.

She turned sharply to him. "Am I not the mistress here?" she asked. Henry turned slowly and looked at the girl. He nodded. "Then do as I say and leave the curtains open."

"Close them." A voice said from behind her. Henry turned and closed the curtains, leaving them in darkness.

Miranda signed and moved to sit down. "Do I have to spend the rest of my life in darkness?" she muttered to herself.

"Henry, leave." The Duke ordered.

"Yes, my lord," He moved towards the door, pausing he touched Eric's arm. "She's young," was all he said then he walked out.

Eric turned and locked the door, then turned to his wife. She was pouting.

"My god, Miranda, you are not a child," he said as he sat across from her. "Quit pouting."

"Why can't we have the curtains open?"

"Because I do not like the day. I am now a creature of the night."

"How dramatic," she said as she picked up a piece of bacon.

"Dramatic?" Eric said as he grabbed the table and threw it against the wall, food flying everywhere.

Miranda let out a scream as she stared at him.

He moved close to her, grabbed her arms and pulled her out of the chair, holding her about a foot off the ground, he looked into her eyes.

"These are the rules, my dear," he spat. "You do what I say. You do not open any curtains. Do not open any doors. You do not go anywhere unless I say you can. You do not take off my mask or try to see anything I don't want you to see. If you break these rules, you will be sorry. Understand?"

She nodded as tears ran down her cheeks. His hands digging into her arms hurt and she was scared he would throw her across the room. 
Eric saw the fear in her eyes and smiled. He need her to fear him, at least a little bit. He dropped her, wincing slightly as she cried out as she hit the floor.

She sat on the floor, not moving, his dressing gown pooled around her. She stared at his black boots. Not knowing if she should move or what. She could easily see him kicking her if she moved.

"Miranda," he said. She slowly looked up at him. "Do not disobey me." She nodded and lowered her head again. 
Eric turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door.

She started to cry. She wanted to go home. She didn't want to be here. Didn't want to be a bloody duchess. She wanted her nanny. Annie would know what to do. Maybe she could go see Annie.

She sniffed and looked around. She still didn't know where her dress was, and she didn't care. She only lived a couple houses over. Or used to live. Slowly she got up, wiped her eyes and moved to the door.

She opened the door and looked out into the dark hall. A couple oil lamps were lit, just providing enough light so you could see the outline of the stairs and other objects decorating the hall.

She walked down the hall, not opening any doors, since she was told not too. She found the stairs and walked down them. She was about to turn, when she saw some light coming from under one of the doors.

If there was light in that room, it must mean that Eric was in there. She moved slowly and put her ear against the door. She didn't hear anything. Her curiosity got the best of her, since she wanted to see what was light in this house of darkness.

Slowly she turned the door handle, to find it unlocked. Unlocked must mean it's not a private room, she told herself. As if trying to justify doing something she knew was wrong. Like the night she broke in here. She shrugged at the thought and opened the door.

She gasped as she walked into a parlor. White sheets were covering the furniture, but there were no heavy curtains. Just decorative balances over each window, and a sheer piece of material, to stop people out side from looking in. The wallpaper was old, and peeling in several places, but it was a beautiful pinkish colour. The carpet was a dark cream.

She slowly moved into the room, pausing by a silver tea service which was covered with tarnish. She was sure if it was cleaned up it would be beautiful. This was definitely a room where a duchess would invite important people over for tea.

She noticed a set of patio doors next. She walked over and opened them, they lead into a private courtyard. The plants were all over grown, but the flowers were blooming bright. She smiled as she walked over to a little fountain. The water was green and covered with slime.

She frowned as she sat on a stone bench. The fountain should have crystal clear water in it with little fish swimming around, that she could feed pieces of bread too. She wondered how she would go about getting this garden beautiful again.

She stood up and walked back into the parlor. She pulled a sheet off of one of the sofas, coughing as the dust settled. She sat down a velvet sofa, slowly she ran her hands over the soft material. She could imagine herself sitting here, with a good book, a nice fire in the white marble fireplace. It would be a perfect room to spend time in.

She frowned as she looked up and saw Henry standing in the doorway. He made a motion that she should leave the room. She shook her head and continued to look around.

"My lady," he said as he approached her. "You do not want him to find you in here."

"Why? This room wasn't locked. It's bright in here. He likes darkness. Why would he ever come in here?"

"He wouldn't," the servant said. "This was his mothers sitting room. Now, please, if you want a place to sit, I will take you to the library."

"I don't want to go to the library. It's dark in there." She turned away. She was a Duchess now. He was a servant. She would answer to the Duke, but not to a servant.

Henry sighed. He had no idea what to tell this girl to get her to leave this room. If Eric found her in here, he would go nuts. He already knew he'd have a hell of a time cleaning up the mess in the bedroom.

"At least let me show you the rest of the house, my lady," he said gently.

Miranda turned her head and nodded. "Very well." She got up and looked around the beautiful room once more, then followed Henry out in the dark hall. Once the door was closed, she shivered.

"Are there any other servants?" She asked.

"No, my lady, just me." He said as he lead her down the hall. Pointing out rooms, with the doors closed so she couldn't see in them.

"Why only you?" she asked. "There should be at least a couple of maids in a house this side, footman, a cook, a housekeeper and butler. I assume you are the butler. Where are the rest?"

Henry stopped and looked at her.

"And a gardener, that garden is in terrible shape. We need a gardener right away. And a maid. This place is dirty. All the rooms should be opened up and cleaned."

"That is not going to happen," Henry told her. "The Duke doesn't like many people around."

"Well, I need a maid. I can't expect to do those duties. I am a duchess, am I not?"

"Yes, my lady. Perhaps you should talk to the Duke about that."

"Fine, I will. Where is he?"

"Probably in the library, my lady," Henry pointed towards the doors. Miranda nodded, turned and walked into the library.

"Eric?" she called out as she walked into the dark room. "Are you in here?"

"What do you want?" a voice came out of the darkness.

"To talk to you?" she said as she moved deeper into the room. "Maybe some light?"

"Take off the dressing gown." The voice said. She signed and turned towards where she thought he was.

"I'm naked under it. My clothes are missing." She said to the shadows. She was getting rather nervous. "Can we open the curtains?"

"No."

She shivered as she moved her back against the doors. "Please Eric..." she whimpered. "I don't like the dark."

The sound of a match lighting filled the room, then a glow from a lamp on the other side of the room. She saw him over there, sitting in a chair, just staring at her. She let out her breath and walked over to him.

He just sat there watching her as she walked towards him. His lip twitched. He silently cursed the King for forcing her on him. But she was beautiful.

She stopped just before him. He moved his hand, motioning for her to remove the dressing gown. She undid the belted sash, then slowly let it drop off her shoulders, he sucked in his breath.

"I need a maid," she said softly as she let the robe slip down further, showing him the top of her breasts. "And other servants."

"Really?" he stared at her breasts.

"And a housekeeper, a cook some footmen..."

"That's quite a list," he glanced up at her. "Anything else?"

"The ladies parlor across the hall, I'd like..." before she could finish he jumped up and slapped her. She fell hitting her face against a table.

"What did I tell you this morning!" He yelled at her. She whimpered and started to cry as she held her hand over her face. "Do I have to lock you up?"

"The door was open..." she sobbed. "It wasn't dark in there. I don't like the dark."

"I don't care, you little whore!" He yelled as he kicked the table she was leaning on away. She fell on her side, then curled up in a little ball.

He stood there panting, looking at the scared girl at his feet. He took some deep breaths to calm himself down before he hurt her. He looked up at the ceiling, shook his head, then knelt down, and pulled the girl against him.

"Stop crying, little one," he said as he sat down on the floor, pulling her into his lap. Her arms went around him and she hid her face in his neck as she cried.

"Don't kill me..."

His heart broke. "Baby, I'm not going to kill you," he stroked her back. "You are driving me crazy, you know that?" He moved his hand to lift up her head. He frowned at the red mark on her cheek. He hated violence against women, and he had hit her twice.

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry, I hit you," he said gently. "That room as my mothers. It's hard..."

"What happened to your mother?" she asked as she sniffed. He frowned and brushed the tears from her cheeks.

"She died. After she saw me, after my accident. She was in such a rage..."

Miranda lifted her hand and touched the part of his face that wasn't hidden under the mask. He smiled down at her. She leaned up and kissed him, then settled back in his lap.

"She fell into a deep depression. Letting no one near her. Not even my father. One night she fell down the stairs. My father found her. He picked up her body and walked out of the house." Eric sighed. "Both their bodies were found the Thames about a week later."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It was a long time ago." Eric blinked back tears. He blamed himself for his parents death. If he didn't look the way he looked, his parents would still be alive.

Miranda felt sick hearing about his parents. Guilt swept over her. He lost both his parents. He had locked up their rooms to hide from the painful memories. She just came along, disregarded his warnings, and walked into his mother's parlor, opening those painful feelings again. She felt horrible.