The Ward

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******

Upon entering the dining room, the first thing Edmund noticed was the attending servants. Normally facing ahead, on this unique occasion all had their eyes centred on Sage, chained to an impressive chair beside the Lord's seat. Hugely aggravated that none of them dared speak to her, Sage had given up trying to draw them into conversation and resorted to glaring back in sullen silence.

The dining table was laden with copious dishes that would feed a large hunting party, the unusual instruction given because Edmund did not know his captive's tastes.

"Leave us," Edmund dismissed the servants, and they immediately vacated the room, all disappointed and some showing signs of reluctance.

Wishing she could supress it, Sage felt her cheeks warm as she felt the man's eyes on her face, remembering he had seen her naked and neatly assembled the dress she wore.

"I see Joel has been attentive," he smilingly observed her chained status.

Sage ignored his humour, and feigned complete unawareness to him taking the seat beside her.

"Are you hungry?" he asked and Sage angrily shook her head at the same moment her stomach rumbled.

Edmund laughed, and playfully pinched her chin before she jerked her face away. He liked touching her, though he knew it pleasured more than his fingertips.

"Sage, if you refuse to eat, I will remove your dress and do things that will make you blush more heavily than you do now."

Sage's eyes widened at the empty plate before her, suddenly understanding the servants' quick dismissal.

"I can hardly eat whilst restrained," she irritably muttered, still refusing to look at him.

"Oh, don't let that concern you," Edmund lightly replied, carving a slice of meat and holding it to her lips.

The delectable scent of food distracted Sage, and her lips parted on instinct to accept the bite. Edmund watched her face as she closed her eyes to enjoy the rich flavour. Not wanting her to starve in protest, he decided to hold off conversation until her hunger was mostly sated.

So for a while he fed her, surprised that the task was rather fun for him. Despite accepting food from his hand, the girl ate daintily. She was no savage from the forest.

"Your parents must be concerned for your welfare," Edmund finally murmured, watching as she swallowed another tender slice of meat.

No answer.

"I suppose they will come for you, soon," he smoothly continued, smiling as she prettily opened her mouth for a piece of herbed roast potato.

Edmund was suddenly fascinated by the sight of her pink tongue peeking out to guide the bite neatly between her lips. His heart quickened, and he imagined his mouth being accepted in place of the food, his own tongue darting between her parted lips to arouse a fire in her that she'd never known nor dreamed of experiencing. He remembered his thought in the woods about the blue of her eyes, and wondered how it would feel to kiss those full, rose lips; for them to sigh against his mouth and return his ardour.

Shivering with lust, his eyes lifted from Sage's tempting mouth to clash with her alert, unblinking stare, a look that told him she was perfectly aware of his desire. Feeling slightly irked by her shrewd perusal, Edmund collected his wits and continued his endeavour.

"Perhaps they approved a betrothal to Nicholas, and you objected?"

Sage rolled her eyes before turning her gaze to the ceiling as though bored, until Edmund began to stroke the lace at her collar, his fingertips brushing the soft skin of her neck.

"Foolish girl. There is no corner of the forest for you to hide, if Nicholas wants you," he murmured, very focused on the movement of his fingers. Though she appeared indifferent, he could see her pulse rapidly beating, feel it beneath his touch. "Do you understand that only I can keep you safe from him?"

Edmund straightened and withdrew his hand when Sage unexpectedly threw back her head to laugh with startling abandon. Eventually she coughed to recovery, and though still smiling, she fixed Edmund with a glare of mocking contempt.

"He has not met my Guardian."

"Oh? Is your Guardian so fearsome?" Edmund quickly recovered his surprise, deeply pleased she'd been baited to a disclosure. So, the girl had a powerful protector. A deadly one, by her confident mirth. But why did she wander about alone?

"Your Guardian was not there to rescue you, when you were cornered by Lord Stiles' men."

"I might have lost them, had you not blocked my path!" she snapped, her eyes flashing at him.

"Who is your Guardian?"

A wary, almost fearful look flickered across her fine features before quickly disappearing beneath the mocking demeanour. Her mouth resolutely shut in an adorable pout, and Edmund knew she would reveal no more. It didn't bother him too much. She could keep her secrets, for now.

"Is there anything you wish to ask me?" he offered, feeling generous now that she was chained and docile. Firmly tethered, and free for him to observe while he dined.

"I would like to know when I will be released from this sty," she said icily, her chained hands balled into small fists.

"Sty?" Edmund echoed, looking very amused as he helped himself to various dishes. None to memory, not even Nicholas, would describe his majestic home so lowly. "Your estate must be very grand, indeed."

Sage stared at the table, now fully conscious to the fact every word she spoke was carefully scrutinized.

"I am not sure I will release you," Edmund answered her insolent query with a chuckle. "And I am unconvinced you detest my touch."

Sage remembered the handmaids' starry-eyed awe of their Lord, then her own vision of him making love to her, and her lip curled with hatred. "You delude yourself."

"I think not."

"While you are talking delusions, why not marry me as well?" she retorted, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

Edmund chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. "I could do that," he mused.

The tone of his voice raised goose bumps along Sage's arms, because he was not laughing. He looked up from the food before him, his eyes unsettlingly determined as though answering an unspoken challenge.

"I wonder if your Guardian would approve our match?" he remarked, his eyes calculating. "This elusive guardian, with wealth and knowledge, residing in the perilous woods. Who tutored you in the ways of gentlefolk, yet with none of the discipline a parent would impart. No regard for authority. And raised you to evade the touch of man."

Suddenly feeling uneasy, the chains clinked as Sage shifted restlessly in her binds. Edmund's brow furrowed as he remembered one of her first claims.

I belong to no man.

"Your mother is a witch?" he guessed, swiftly watching Sage's face to catch any reaction to his bluff.

"You should know I would never turn a benevolent person to the Guard," he added, hoping she might understand he was different from the fearful folk who blindly acted on their insecurities to the peril of more innocents, than wicked ones.

But a closed, almost dreamy expression had taken Sage over. Then she giggled, as though he were obtuse and failed to realise something obvious.

"The Master casts his net to an empty lake," she smirked, but Edmund saw her knuckles had turned white against the chair arms.

"You may call me 'Edmund'."

Again the wary look darkened the blue of her eyes. "Not 'my Lord'? Not 'Master'? Such an improper familiarity, for such a respectable household," she taunted.

"No," Edmund replied, without elaborating. Her eloquent speech was beginning to drive him insane with curiosity.

"And why do I receive this great honour?" she finally sneered, concealing how much she feared the answer. At first it seemed he wouldn't tell her, whether he held back for cruelty or kindness, she wasn't sure.

But then a slow smile curved Edmund's lips and he turned his attention from his meal to lean toward her, his deep voice lowered to a soft whisper. "Because, Sage, you will soon know me beyond all formality."

Sage's eyes widened with anger, fear, and a glimmer of curiosity that did not go unnoticed by Edmund. It was the same look he recognised after her bath; the breathless, perplexed wonder that invited him to teach her pleasure more than she could know. A look that told him any initial resistance would fade very quickly under his attentions.

Despite his companion being chained to bear his company, it was one of the most entertaining dinners he'd ever attended. His cock ached, straining to persistent hardness the instant he'd taken a seat beside the girl. Now, he had reached his limit, and abruptly got to his feet and left the room before he did something out of character that would shame his parents, if they were alive.

*******

The surrounds were blanketed in darkness when Edmund hastily mounted one of his horses. Briskly glancing behind, he was half-afraid Joel would burst from the house in his night garments and chase him down the road in protest for leaving at that hour unaccompanied.

Eager to run, the sturdy beast snorted and restlessly pawed the ground until Edmund urged it to canter from the stables to the courtyard. The ornate gates glinted, reflecting moonlight as they slowly opened to allow his exit, and with a curt nod of thanks he kicked on toward town. The servants closing the gates pulled faces as they were encased in a billowing cloud of dust left in the wake of his gallop.

Lucille reclined on her settee, fanning herself with elegant boredom when her maid opened the door to admit Edmund.

"Oh!" she smiled widely and gracefully rose, careful not to disturb the flattering arrangement of her black and green flowered gown. There was an excited glow in her dark eyes as Edmund briskly walked forward to kiss her hand.

"Edmund, such an absence! You have been so cruel-" she admonished, but as soon as the door discreetly closed behind her maid, Edmund tugged her into his arms and kissed her with a rare passion before hauling her toward the bedroom.

It was unusual for him to show a desire so ardent, but nonetheless Lucille encouraged it, eagerly laying back on the silk bedding to open her thighs invitingly. Edmund's handsome face was dark with frustration, and he immediately climbed atop her, roughly pulling the lace gown apart to expose Lucille's breasts. They were large, smooth and he loved the taste of her flesh in his mouth. His cock was hard, and desperately needed release.

Lucille's hands stroked up his shoulders to grip his neck as he kissed her again. She bucked her hips against him encouragingly. Edmund groaned against her lips before burying his face in her neck, bracing for the anticipated moment of entering her.

Closing his eyes, Edmund's mind surprised him with an image of Sage, in her staid white dress. Then the dress was gone, ripped from her slender form, and Edmund imagined her dark hair softly spread across his bed, her captivating blue eyes, staring with a lust to match his. Her rosy lips begged for kisses and her breasts seemed swollen for his touch, arched against his bare chest as his lips trailed her sleek neckline and jaw.

Her heart pounded beneath his palm kneading her breasts, her firm thighs parted to accept him. She was deliciously nervous, but eager. He whispered not to be afraid, to trust him, and she submitted. She moaned loudly as he began to enter her, then cried out with pleasure and kissed him breathlessly while he took her innocence. No, while she readily gifted it to him...

"My Lord, this is a welcome surprise," Lucille dizzily purred, bringing Edmund's fantasy to an unpleasant end. Tangled in the embrace of his mistress, his eyes snapped open, and he withdrew, cursing, as his cock softened with the infuriating realisation he'd been ruined by an outlandish girl he'd barely touched.

*******

Joel stirred before realising someone had entered his room. He quickly sat upright.

"Be at ease, Joel. It is only me," Edmund sighed, tiredly collapsing in a nearby chair.

"Is there trouble, my Lord?"

"No. Your door was ajar, and I presumed you were awake," Edmund replied, carefully lighting a candle and sitting back to gaze up at the flame's flickering shadows on the ceiling.

"Well, I did not leave it open," Joel said dryly. "I thought the days of you haunting my chamber at unholy hours ended in your teens," he grumbled, slowly getting out of bed to find a robe.

"I went to Lucille tonight," Edmund confided, rolling his eyes at Joel's sound of outrage.

"Alone, at this hour? Have you lost your senses?" Joel snapped, coming to sit in a chair opposite him.

"I may be tipsy, Joel, but you will respect me."

Joel yawned. "And would it be so disrespectful, my Lord, to inquire why I have been set upon in the night?"

Edmund chuckled. "In truth, I do not know why I am here. But it is not to accost you." He paused, as the words refreshed his recent preoccupation. "Joel, what do you think of the girl?"

"I believe there is not enough known of her to form a proper opinion," Joel answered carefully.

"You like her."

"I do. I believe whatever her history...She is respectable."

Joel's last word caused Edmund to stare at him. "Respectable? As in...?"

"You have had your choice of eligible females since you came of age, and none interest you," Joel said irritably. "You know what I think of your mistress."

Edmund threw back his head and laughed. "I am certainly finished with Lucille. But you would have me woo a girl who hates me?"

"She does not hate you - she does not know you. And by what you have shown so far, you can hardly expect her to fall at your feet."

"I told you, there is a hand to play. If Nicholas discovers I lied about having a slave-"

"My Lord, he would know it regardless. Maintain the charade with him, if you will. But there is no need to enact the reality."

Edmund was silent for a long moment, and unable to clearly see his face in the dim light, Joel wondered if his master had fallen asleep, until he spoke.

"Joel, I cannot describe what I feel for a girl that I do not know."

"If you could fall for a pretty one that flutters her eyelashes and swoons for your attention, you would have been married, long ago. But there comes a time in every man's life when-" Joel began his fatherly lecture, but his eyes landed on the large cabinet by his bed.

Edmund watched curiously, as Joel abruptly stood and went to it, frantically running his fingers along the top surface. Then he dropped to his knees and urgently searched the floor.

"Light, Edmund!" he said hoarsely, forgetting his place in his panic. Edmund quickly lifted the candle and crouched by Joel on the floor.

"My Lord! It's gone!" Joel gasped, seizing Edmund's arm.

"What? Your nightcap?" Edmund teased.

"The key!" Joel made a strangled sound in his throat and quickly went to find his slippers.

"What key?"

*******

The lock to Sage's door clicked, and the door quietly opened. Cloyd, one of the stable lads who'd dragged her from the bathtub, stood on the threshold still clutching the key he'd carefully stolen from Joel's quarters. Cloyd was a relatively new addition to the Lord's household, and had grown up in the town. Though he was of stocky build and good with the horses, he was generally disliked for being a bully and none of the maid staff were interested in his attempts at flirtation.

Admiring Sage's sleeping face, brightened by moonlight, Cloyd remembered the excitement he'd felt laying hands on her. It was the first time he had seen a naked girl, touched flesh so soft and firm, and he ached to do it again.

Sage woke to the unpleasant surprise of a cloth being forced into her mouth. It was roughly pushed deep, and she coughed and gagged, tasting musty dirt on the material.

Immediately trying to defend herself, Sage discovered that the wrist and ankle chains, kindly released by Joel save one on her ankle, had all been reattached. She was chained to the bed by one of the boys she recognised from the bath incident, and sleep abruptly fled her mind as fear coursed through her body.

"You are so beautiful," the boy breathed in a hushed whisper, stroking her hips above her white nightdress with shaking hands.

Sage groaned and shook her head, but the rag would not budge.

Grinning gleefully, the boy lifted the white material covering her, and his head disappeared beneath it.

Sage's eyes widened with fury as she felt fingers searching beneath her nightdress and clumsily prodding between her legs. Then a wet tongue hungrily lapped at her, like an animal. It felt vile, and Sage wanted to scream for the disgust that spread through her.

There was a movement by the door, and Sage saw another boy, staring at them with his jaw dropped.

"

Cloyd!"

he whispered with scandalised horror, running forward as the boy assaulting Sage frantically withdrew.

"Little bastard! I thought you were the Master!" Cloyd hissed back, his heart pounding with fearful adrenaline as he glared at Simon.

"She belongs to the Master. Leave her," Simon demanded.

"We could both have her. She's a slave, none would believe her tale," Cloyd reasoned, more than willing to share, if it meant he would get away with it.

Simon stubbornly shook his head and stepped toward the larger boy. "I said leave her!"

Cloyd's temper soared as he misunderstood Simon's unusual interference.

"Oh, you want her alone, do you?" he sneered menacingly. "You want to enjoy her without my seeing your small cock, is that it?"

The darkness concealed Simon's swift blush at his bully's crude insult. "Nay, I'd not let any girl suffer your touch. Are the rumours true, that you delight the horses better than you could please a woman?"

Sage would have laughed into the gag, if she didn't fear her virtue depended on the weaker boy's success. He was unfamiliar and did not look upon her with desire, though seemed strangely determined to preserve her dignity. Was it possible her Guardian infiltrated the Lord's household? Hope fluttered in her chest.

Cloyd snarled, his eyes narrowed with resentful jealousy. "Soft little rat from the house. Come to the stables and do a man's work, before giving me orders! Perhaps I should chase you into the forest again?" he threatened, advancing on the smaller boy, who stood his ground.

"For what you dared tonight, he will lash you without mercy. Proceed further, and you'll hang on the morrow," Simon quietly warned, the sobering truth of his words stoked the other's anger.

Raising a fist to bring it down on Simon, Cloyd froze with his arm in the air and his heart stopped as they were illuminated in soft light.

In his nightgown, and tightly clasping the lit candles, Joel appeared particularly sour to be up in the night for an unpleasant cause. The Lord was still in riding attire, his brown hair more unruly than usual from a swift journey. His clothes were lightly dusty from travelling the open dirt road. The foreboding look on his face was a mix of frustration and barely restrained anger.

Vividly awake despite the hour, Edmund's eyes quickly darted between the boys to Sage, gagged and shackled to the bed. He turned to Joel with a thundering frown, who in return briefly shook his head to indicate he had not left Sage that way.

Although not the object of his rage, Sage cowered in the bed as she witnessed the towering heights of the Lord's wrath.

"Speak, boys, before it is too late," he growled, his figure appearing significantly taller and stronger when silhouetted in candlelight. Usually composed in disagreeable matters, he now shook with rage, with both hands clenched to fists.

"I found him here," Cloyd boldly lied, pointing an accusing finger to Simon. "He was upon the girl. I think they are lovers."