Marianne : Unmarked (His) Read online

  His face was unreadable, and Marianne wondered if she had offended him. Perhaps he thought her faltering step had to do with her thinking he was not good enough for the Lady of Marsh Hall. However, for Marianne, it was the opposite. Seeing him standing here so handsome and brave, she knew it was she who was beneath him. He deserved so much more than an Unmarked could ever be.

  Lord Villiers took her hand and placed it on Captain Stuart's arm, thus giving her to him in a symbolic way that began the age old ritual under which all marriages were performed. The old man chosen to officiate today looked almost bored as he read out the words. Words he must have said a thousand times already in his long life.

  He bound their hands with a cloth of silk, bearing the royal seal of the King. As he droned on she wondered where the King was seated, and whether he had satisfaction in seeing her given away and out of Lord Villiers's reach.

  She vaguely became aware of Captain Stuart talking, and dragged her attention back to the ritual, knowing that she must play her part correctly or shame her new husband irretrievably. Her mouth seemed too dry when it was her time to speak, yet she managed to croak out the correct reply to the old man’s questions.

  Her heart began to beat rapidly as the ceremony drew to a close and she said the final words that would bind her to Captain Stuart for the rest of her life.

  “I give to you my possessions, I give to you my body,” she repeated, a tremor passing through her at the thought of their wedding night to come. “I give to you my heart, and I give to you my soul.”

  At this point if the two people were Marked they would exchange tokens of their clans, but this ceremony was different, and she wondered if this was why the old man had been chosen. After all, there may be some who never carried out a ceremony on an Unmarked in their whole lives.

  A page moved forward carrying two pendants, both carried the King's coat of arms. With some dark humour Marianne acknowledged that they were truly both owned by the King, so it would seem fitting.

  The page came to stand before them, but before the official took the first pendant to hand to Captain Stuart, he reached up, lifted a pendant from around his neck, and placed it in the hand of the old man. To his merit, the old man did not pause, and few behind them would have noticed the small interruption.

  Marianne looked at the pendant that had come from Captain Stuart, it was a wolf head, intricately carved and obviously well worn. She swallowed her emotions, trying to keep in control when she realised he was giving her that which he would have given a Marked mate. She opened her mouth to protest, but he whispered very softly, “I have promised to be yours for life, there is no other mate I will give it to.”

  She looked up at him quickly, but then had to drag her attention back to the official who had now completed the blessing. Captain Stuart took his pendant and lifted it over her head, rearranging her hair as he put it in place.

  Marianne wanted to take hold of it and examine it, to see if she could find the essence of this proud man in the image of the wolf. Yet her part still had to be played, and he ducked down so that she could place the other pendant, over his head.

  She wished now that she too had made some gesture, tried to make this more personal, but then she reminded herself that she did not want this, none of it. Yet even to her own mind, these words began to sound false.

  “May the Spirits bless you both, and the children that will be born of your joining. Now you are one.”

  Captain Stuart did not wait to be told; he gathered her to him and kissed her firmly on the lips. A cheer rang out behind them, Marianne realised that amongst the Lords and Ladies were a number of soldiers, no doubt those that had served with the Captain.

  And then her thoughts slipped away, as did all the people in the hall, there was only the two of them joined together in an embrace that awoke those strange feelings in Marianne. Her knees felt weak and she had to place her hands on his arms to stop from sinking to the floor.

  His strong arms held her tightly, and only the press of his manhood against her thigh spoilt this mesmerising moment. It reminded her that kisses, even those such as these, would not make up for what she must endure in their marriage bed.

  In a state of confusion, Marianne survived the rest of the day. Thankfully, they were only expected to stay at the banquet after the wedding for a couple of hours, after that it was tradition for the newly weds to be taken to the chambers before a blessing was given over them for fertility.

  The thought of this coming ritual was the thing she tried to concentrate on, pushing away anything that might happen afterwards. Marianne still held on to the hope that she might be able to dissuade her new husband from performing the intimate act of mating. Surely there was some way, and yet her heart ached for him, he had given her something so precious, even though he did not have to.

  All of these jumbled thoughts filled her head while those around her feasted on stuffed pig and drank ale and mead until the level of noise in the room was terrible, making her head throb. Beside her Captain Stuart ate, looking thoughtfully at Marianne from time to time, and doing his best to keep all the well wishers away from her.

  “Not much longer now and we can leave them all to their merry making. I can see the day has been a great strain for you.” His concern evident in his voice.

  “I am sorry. I suppose it is because I am so unused to the company of others.”

  “Can I hope that you will not so much mind my company in the days and years to come?”

  She looked at the earnest expression on his face and knew he meant her no harm, that he wanted this marriage to work and for it to not simply be a marriage in name alone. Marianne knew she could ask for no more, not when most men would shun her and treat her as one unequal to a Marked.

  “I wish to make you happy, Captain Stuart, but I am unsure how.”

  He noticed her sadness. “I am a patient man, Marianne. Once we have left the Palace we can get to know each other. You have been happy at Marsh Hall for the past few years?”

  She looked at him and tears filled her eyes as she thought of her home, her sanctuary. All she could do was nod in answer, not able to trust her voice to speak.

  “Then let me promise you I will do everything in my power to see that you are happy there again. I have no wish to live in anger and disagreement. Let us toast to our happiness together.”

  He raised his cup, and she did the same, their own private toast to being happy. If only that could start now, if only they could leave right this minute, before they were taken to their beds and the blessing given. However even as they sipped the mead from their cups there was movement about the room and the King stood to give the speech that would signify the beginning of the blessing.

  He stood, slightly wavering on his feet, already having drunk too much. His words were impersonal, of a King speaking about subjects he had never really known. Strange when Lord Villiers had told her what the King felt for her.

  Yet he had no doubt spent many years perfecting the ability to speak as though he had no concerns in the world, to cover up anything that might spark panic among the people. Indeed the King probably would have made a good street performer or storyteller had his fate been different.

  “Marianne.” She looked to see Captain Stuart rising from his seat and offering his hand to her. “Come.”

  She rose slowly to her feet, not able to catch the excitement of the silly women who laughed and clapped excitedly as she was led off to her bedchamber. Soldiers, who had drunk more than their fair share of ale, pulled Captain Stuart in the opposite direction.

  They shouted and sang, from the strains of their voices she caught in the distance; it was no song for the ears of a lady. Marianne felt scared; these men were rough and hard, used to the horror of the battlefield. The dread that her new husband would not be capable of being gentle made her feel sick.

  Carried along with the crowd of women, most who would normally never get with in arms reach of her, she made her way to her chamber.
Once there she was thankful to see Dawn waiting with her night gown in hand. The maid, despite her young years, made it clear that no one else would be allowed to enter the chamber while her mistress changed.

  There were some sounds of disapproval and Marianne wondered if it was purely because they wanted to inspect her for the Mark that was not there. As a child, adults who were fascinated by her faultless skin, had examined her often.

  “Here, My Lady.” Dawn soon had the wedding dress removed and hung up for Lord Villiers to collect. Marianne's mind started working again, keeping her thoughts of what was to come hidden away, she informed Dawn of their departure in the morning.

  “So soon?” asked Dawn.

  “Yes, Lord Villiers has kindly given me a letter from the King allowing us to leave in the morning.” She lowered her voice. “I feel it would be prudent to leave as early as possible to not give the King any reason to change his mind.”

  “My Lady?” Dawn sounded more than a little afraid.

  “I am being over cautious, I am sure. But more things go on in Court than you are I would ever like to know. I want to be home, Dawn.”

  Dawn smiled at this. “Very well, I will tell the men to ease up on their celebrating tonight.”

  “Oh, Dawn, I am sorry.” Marianne thought for a moment, and then smiled. “Tell them if they behave tonight they can have a cask of the old Lord's wine each, and two days off to get over the hangover.”

  “I think that will speak to them better than any threats or warnings.” Dawn smiled too. “And what of the dashing Captain. Or is he a Lord now?”

  “I suppose he is. I hope he is willing to leave tomorrow too.” She had not thought about what her new husband might want to do; she was too used to making her own decisions. This would take some getting used to.

  “Ask him after...you know. He will say yes to anything then.” Dawn blushed and giggled.

  “Oh Dawn, that is one thing I wish I did not have to do.”

  “I am sure the new Lord is experienced enough to make it very enjoyable, My Lady.”

  Marianne was about to protest that no one could make such a thing enjoyable when Dawn said, “You are ready. Let us not keep the women of the Court waiting, or Lord Marsh.”

  The door was opened and the sight of her new husband standing waiting to be allowed entry met Marianne. He looked as though he had been given more ale, and his dress uniform had been swapped for a loose shirt and pants.

  Marianne lowered her eyes, and then she was swept towards the bed by giggling women, and the official had to fight to reach her to perform the fertility rite. She dared not look up, keeping her gaze firmly away from her husband, who was escorted to the bed to slip in beside her.

  Even when she felt his weight dip the bed she kept her eyes firmly averted, knowing if she took one look at him, she would bolt for the door, tearing the eyes out of anyone who got in her way.

  Somehow, she stayed put, the rite ended, the official sprinkling sweet herbs on the bed before leaving. A trail of women followed him, laughing and shouting, until at last there was only Dawn, who nodded and then left too, closing the door behind her. Leaving Marianne alone with the man who was her husband and who now had every right to use her as he willed.

  Chapter Eight

  The voices faded away until they were no more than a distant hum punctured by the occasional screech of laughter. Marianne lay still, hardly daring to breathe and hoping the extra ale he had consumed might make him sleep. When he stirred and turned towards her, she knew that was not to be the case.

  “Marianne,” he said quietly, his hand going to the covers she held up to her chin.

  When he tried to ease them away, she tightened her grip until her knuckles turned white.

  “I have no wish to fight you Marianne, but our marriage is not legally binding until we have mated.”

  She shot out of bed, standing to face him. “Then we will say that we have consummated the marriage, who will ever know?”

  He moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “It will be known, Marianne. And I will not lie.”

  “Please,” she said hoarsely, afraid she would cry.

  “I do not understand, most women find me attractive in some way. I have experience in pleasing women, and it is not as though you are a maid. You have had a husband before...” He looked at her suspiciously then. “Did you persuade your first husband not to consummate your marriage?”

  Marianne knew she had to protest, if that rumour got out she would not legally be Lady Marsh, and the King could strip her of everything.

  “No. We...he...that is why I have no wish to lie with you.”

  “I still do not understand.” He rose and came to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I will not hurt you.”

  His hand began to move, stroking her as though she were a small frightened animal. If she had not been so tense she might have felt something stir inside her, but all she felt was fear.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He lowered his head and his lips met hers, so soft so gentle, searching for a way into her locked body. His tongue brushed her lips, pressing to be allowed in, and unconsciously she yielded to him, giving him access to her. Slowly his touch eased her fear, her body responded, a warmth filling it until the ache between her thighs grew to a dull throbbing need.

  “There, was that so bad?” he asked, when he broke the kiss.

  She shook her head, but could not meet his eyes. Once again, she felt like a child, unable to explain these new feelings, and not knowing what she was supposed to do. His hand slid from her arms and traced the swell of her breast, briefly touching the stiff little peak that suddenly became the centre of her world.

  His thumb moved back across it, and she swayed at the feelings that invaded her body. The old Lord had never touched her like this. Was this the way a man was supposed to touch a woman? He lowered his head and his mouth covered her nipple, his teeth grazing it making her cry out in shock.

  “You see, Marianne, I can teach you so much pleasure. Lie with me, let me awaken you.”

  She looked up now and met his eyes, seeing desire there. No person had ever wanted her before, not for herself. Therefore, wordlessly she went to the bed and lay down; her face pushed into the pillow to drown the scream she knew would come when he entered her.

  The bed dipped under his weight, he was beside her, and she tried not to tense, because that always made it worse. Yet he did not move between her thighs, instead his hand stroked her back, before moving to stroke her shoulder, and then gently tried to turn her.

  “Marianne, please, I will not hurt you. Will you not at least give me a chance?”

  She nodded, and a tear slid down her cheek, before she turned away from him and lay down again. Trying to keep herself together, she waited for him to move, but he stayed still next to her, until at last he spoke.

  “Marianne, I want to understand, is this how your first husband...took you.”

  Marianne lay still, confused. Was this not how all matings happened? She had seen the dogs and horses mating from behind like this, and assumed this was the way of all animals.

  Turning to him, she noticed his confused expression, and felt ashamed of her lack of knowledge.

  “Sit up, please.” He helped her to sit, and when she tried to duck her head away from him, he made her look into his eyes. “Did he hurt you? The old Lord.”

  “Not intentionally. He was a good man, but I could never please him. You know I am Unmarked, I believe that made me unattractive to him.”

  “So he did...bed you?”

  He was picking his words so carefully, trying not to upset her, and her heart ached to be all that he needed, and more. If only she had been born the same as everyone else, she might have made him a good and proper wife.

  “He did not find me attractive. It was a month after we were married that Thomas persuaded him to...”

  “Thomas?”

  “Thomas was Lord Marsh's man servant. They were very close.
”

  Captain Stuart let out a long breath, and then said, “Believe me Marianne you are a very beautiful woman. Your lack of a Mark in no way spoils your worth as a woman.”

  “But Lord Marsh tired of me after only two weeks.”

  “I believe that may be because he liked the company of men rather than women.”

  Marianne looked at him, not able to comprehend what he said. It made no sense, men mated with women, stallions mated with mares; it was the way of all things in nature.

  “In the army it occurs sometimes that men find the company of other men to their taste. They have no interest in women.” He paused before asking her, “Did Thomas spend nights with Lord Marsh?”

  “Yes. But, Thomas was a good man. He came with his master to visit me, he would touch him to make him hard, and then encourage him.”

  “And it was their idea for you to lie with your face hidden.”

  “Yes. At first he could not stay hard, so Thomas instructed me to look away.”

  “Did he never touch you...before? Never kiss you and make you ready for him?”

  “No. I believe he did not like my body.”

  “Marianne, I know it will be hard but put the past from your mind. Let me teach you anew what it is to be with a man. I promise I will make you scream in pleasure, not pain.”

  He smiled at her, and she trusted him. This man had already taught her body to respond to his touch, she wanted to give herself to him in a way she did not completely understand.

  Pushing herself forward she pressed her lips to his, and he responded to her, his hand pushing into her hair and drawing her closer. When his tongue slid along her bottom lip, the sensation made her shiver in what she now accepted as delight.

  Opening her mouth, she allowed him to push inside and then moved her own tongue to entwine with his. Relaxing she allowed the feelings he evoked in her to come forward and consume her.