Some people emailed me begging to finish this story. In my mind the concept already developed and died with the first entry, and I don't have an urge to complete it. But then I thought about how pissed off I get when I encountered unfinished stories. So I'm writing this last part to help make sense of the first half and provide closure.
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He had only wanted to see her happy eyes look upon him again. Five years had passed since she first appeared on his doorstep wearing the most obscene, yet tantalizing clothes he had ever seen on a woman. Her shoulders were bare, reddening quite quickly to the sun, and her dress wrapped loosely around her body, doing nothing for her curves. And yet she reminded him of a forest nymph, her wild undone hair whipping about, as she gaze upon him with such love and adoration, he thought himself to be a God.
And now, five years later, she appeared at his door step. Her clothes weren't necessarily more conservative. She wore a strange pair of breeches, blue and rough in color, which drew gazes towards her center. The rest of her clothes were equally as undesirable, and William threw his cloak over her shoulders to avoid the judging gazes from other servants.
Since her appearance, the house came alive again. Rumor had it that William had no intention of making her his servant. But she had refused to see anyone, including William, and would not talk to anyone, unless it was to Sarah.
On the first night of her arrival, he could not sleep. The pain in his chest caused him to twist and turn all night at the thought of Lena right there. He knew it was her. He had asked Sarah to make sure that there was a birthmark on Lena's left shoulder blade. It was. She was here but not with him. The look of love in her eyes had completely disappeared, along with the memory of him.
But it was her. He knew without a doubt that the girl who had appeared on his door step was the same woman who had damaged his heart. While she refused to speak to him, he had Sarah coax stories out of her, and each night Sarah reported to him on Lena's progress. Other than her slow acceptance that she was going to stay at the manor, Lena did not seem too keen on the idea of spending time with him.
In fact, whenever he walked into a room, she would excuse herself. When he asked her to dinner, she would politely request to eat in her room. He tried to corner her in the garden, but her violently shaking had him cursing as he fled the scene, not sure what his anger would do to her fragile mind.
What he wouldn't give for the same eager Lena from before. The one that tried to spend every waking moment near him, and looked at him with such emotion he thought she would explode before him. He didn't know how he ever thought her irritating - no, he had never found her like that - he had just been intimated by being loved so much. No one had ever loved him the way she had. Every caress and touch from her was supportive, giving him a peace of mind even during his temper tantrums.
William sank into the bath Lena had prepared for him. After a week of going nowhere, Lena had insisted on becoming a maid. Initially her request revolted him. Never again, he roared, never again was she going to be placed in a subordinate position. It reminded him too much of the cruelty he had subjected her to. But she insisted on earning her keep.
She wanted to owe him nothing.
Didn't she understand? He owed her
everything
. When he brought up how he had tortured her, how he made her life as his maid absolutely horrible, she only looked back at him with a blank stare. "I've never seen you in my life, my lord," she would whisper, her gaze towards the ground.
It was the way she said those words that convinced him more than ever she was the same Lena. Yes, my lord. No, my lord. As you wish, my lord. A slight hint of sarcasm tinged the beginning and end of her words.
"I'm ready," he murmured as the warm water clouded his lower body from being seen. "Come wash me, Lena."
He heard her footsteps coming from behind him. He had granted her wish to earn her keep. Not a single muscle betrayed her thoughts when he announced her replacing Sarah as his personal slave. For the first few days, Sarah remained by his side to show Lena what to do, but Lena caught on very quickly, once again confirming that she was the same woman he once knew.
"Is the water good, my lord?"
"Yes, it is very good."
He moaned as she worked out the kinks in his shoulder. As she moved down to lather his chest, he reached out and caught her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. Lena gasped in shock, jerking it away.
"My lord..."
"It was to tell you how much I like what you're doing."
He knew his rough ways would only scare her. He had seen it from the very first day that she had to be treated as gently as possible. Like magic, over night, he gave up all his bad habits. Most of them had only developed because of her disappearance anyway.
When she had returned, he felt a new sense of life. Then when she displayed no recognition of him, he thought about hitting the bottle once more. He emptied an entire bottle of whiskey, the alcoholic infused brain of his addled his sense as he stormed into her room, cornering her until she cried. When he woke up, he was on the floor and Lena was in the furthest corner of the room.
Making her his personal servant was a terrifyingly difficult ordeal, but it was the only choice he offered her, and he was happy when she consented. Just not as joyful as he could've been had she agreed to live with him as an equal.
Lena continued to wash his body, paying attention to the stiff muscles underneath his skin. William closed his eyes, inhaling her scent.
"Tell me about yourself, Lena."
"There's nothing to talk about."
He opened one eye and caught her face only inches from his. She blushed a scarlet red, and the heat from her cheeks radiated like a flame. "Even the mundane, daily things, Lena. I want to hear them." He paused, and then added, "Your voice soothes me."
"Um... well." He heard her sigh and felt her breath rush over his wet skin. A thick part of him tingled. "I was born... somewhere far from here. My mother and father are di... not together. They spent years fighting over custody of me - "
"Custody?"
"Oh. Like the rights to care for me."
"Like papers?"
"Yeah, something like that."
William frowned. "I don't want to hear a sad story. Tell me a happy one about you."
"My life doesn't contain any happy stories, my lord."
Her hand stilled over his. She breathed in heavily and exhaled just as noisily before slowly massaging his hand. William felt the tension leave as she laced her fingers with his and began shaking his arm.
"That can't be true. You used to tell me happy stories about us," his voice was coy, teasing the memories she didn't have. "Stories that involved you and me like this."
Lena wasn't sure why William insisted that they shared something, or that they had some previous relationship. She had asked Sarah about it once. The poor servant girl nearly cried her eyes out as she explained how much Lord William loved her, how she loved him too and now it was just a sad story that she couldn't remember him.
Their palms bounced back and forth. Then she began to tug at each finger, stretching out tiny muscles he didn't even know he used.
She didn't remember those stories, because they never happened. Lena made the mistake of mentioning that once. The fury in William's eyes had her running out the door, but he caught up with her even before she made it outside. His arms had wrapped around her like steel bands as he muttered in her ear, "You will remember them, Lena. I'll do anything in my power to make you remember."
He was certifiably insane. A certifiably hot, insane manor owner from some old time period. Lena simply nodded and said she'd try her best, and that seemed to placate him enough to let her go.
She gulped as his eyes turned to her, full of expectations. "Wh-why don't you retell the stories to me while I finish your bath?"
That answer seemed to please him.
He launched into a story that played out similar to how she had gotten to this god-forsake time period. Even when his skin pruned and Lena forced him out of the bath, he wouldn't stop the story. And Lena found herself encouraging him as well. Not only were they interesting, featuring her a million times over, but they seemed to be made up of a fantasy only Lena had thought she wanted.
Lena managed to dress William without looking at his privates. Her shyness caused William to laugh, and when she was done fixing his robe, he held her hands in front of him.
"Lena," he said softly. "Lena, look at me."
His breath hitched as her large eyes gazed up at him. All the emotions from the four years came rushing back to him in full force. He wanted to take her. The memory of her tightness grew on him slowly like a deep breath, and he felt the blood rush to his lower region.
"Don't run from me again."
