Page 82 of Nightshade

Lustina

Lustina gathered the rags off the floor, while Lady Praecepsia slept soundly in her bed. She bent over to pick up one particularly bloody rag, examining it with a frown, before placing it into the basket with the others.

As a hand slid across her mouth, she let out a startled scream into the palm.

“Follow me.”

At the sound of the baron’s voice, she blew out a relieved breath, and as he released her, she turned with a smile, to find him already walking toward the door. After a quick glance back at Lady Praecepsia, who hadn’t stirred, she set the basket on the floor, quickly shuffling after the baron. Down the corridor, she kept her eyes open for Bishop Venable, as she watched the baron turn into one of the rooms up ahead. Hastening her pace, she slipped into the room after him, and closed the door behind her.

When she turned to face the room, her eyes widened on seeing all the many mirrors stored within it. An entire room of mirrors consisting of all shapes and sizes. Confused, she turned to find more mirrors stacked along the walls.

“What is this?” She couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of an entire room dedicated to nothing more than mirrors. Her attention finally turned back to the baron, who stood in the middle of the room.

Only his profile could be seen, as the shadowed parts of the room seemed to dance around his other half, but when he turned fully, Lustina gasped at the sight of him. His lip had been split and a large plum of a bruise sat on his cheek.

“My Lord,” she whispered, dashing across the room toward him. “What happened to you?” When she reached to touch his face, he gripped her wrist midair.

His jaw shifted with anger, evident in his tight grasp. Wordless, he exhaled and released her arm, which Lustina lowered to her side. Whatever rage had claimed his face moments before softened.

“This was your punishment. Your suffering for Drystan’s accusations,” Lustina said.

He sneered at that. “This was my punishment for what I did to him in retaliation.”

An ache in her heart stole her breath as she absorbed his words. “For my punishment.”

Instead of answering, he lifted a lock of her hair, running his fingers over the strands. “As my mother’s illness progressed, she insisted all the mirrors throughout the manor be collected and stored away. She could not bear to look at herself.”

Lustina could not understand a woman who she had considered one of the most beautiful she’d ever seen thinking such a thing. “I cannot imagine what thoughts plagued her mind.”

“Nor I.” He drew his fingers down the edge of her neck, springing goosebumps. His circling to behind her gave a view of a mirror propped against the opposite wall, where Lustina caught their reflection. The baron came to a stand at her back, bringing to attention the stark difference in height. The sight of his wounds stabbed at her heart again, and she couldn’t hide the pain that claimed her face.

“Your sadness is for me?”

“Forgive me. I do not mean to make a fuss over your wounds, but the sight of them troubles me. To know you suffered such pain. More pain.”

“It is pain I would suffer a thousand times over.” In the mirror’s reflection, she watched him lean into her ear, as his palm slid over the fabric of her dress, pushing it down her shoulder. “Everything about you taunts me, Lustina. Your eyes beckon me to stare. Your scent beckons me to breathe. Your skin beckons me to touch.” His eyes flinched, the hand which had lowered her dress balled into a fist, and she felt a shuddered breath against her neck. “Do you have any idea what would happen, if I took you as I want to right now?”

The breath caught in her throat prevented her from answering the question. Of course she knew. Terrible things would happen, if someone should walk in and see her with him.

“The punishment we would suffer for such sin. I would willingly bear it to know the sound of your moans, but the thought of a whip across your spine incites a murderous rage inside of me.” His words shouldn’t have left her feeling weak with want. And the prospect of punishment should’ve compelled her to run from that room, but she couldn’t. She was too wound within his spell to walk away.

“I want to see.” Hand crossed over her body, he curled his finger into her skirt, lifting it up, inch by inch at a time, exposing her ankles, her knees. When the hem arrived at her thigh, she reached down to stop his advance.

In spite of her trembling flesh and the unrelenting desire to feel his touch, she couldn’t allow it. “Please, My Lord. I am … I cannot look at myself that way.”

Darkness swirled in his eyes, a look so exquisitely wicked and intriguing, it sent a chill across her neck. “That which you can’t bear to look at is what makes me sweat at night,” he whispered low in her ear.

Her skin prickled with his words, and when he pressed his lips to her throat, she nearly buckled in his arms. Releasing his hand, she turned her head away from the mirror and felt the fabric slide higher. Higher. The hem grazed the upper part of her thigh, only just covering her private parts.

Another shuddered breath at her ear. “More perfect than I could endeavor to imagine.” Teeth grazed the stretched side of her throat as she kept her face turned from it. “Look at yourself, Lustina.”

“I cannot.”

A gentle hand guided her face toward the mirror, and Lustina let out a sharp exhale at the sight of exposed legs that hinted at the sacred flesh a mere hairsbreadth higher, still hidden by her skirt. She had never seen herself that way before, as the monastery did not have mirrors. Neither did the cottage where she’d lived with her mother. She had only come to know their purpose after accompanying the bishop on a few visits to the more affluent estates throughout Praecepsia.

“I should lift higher. If only for the immoral and indecent thoughts that seeing your flesh would inspire as I lay in bed tonight.” The baron’s rough voice sent a flutter to her stomach.

“Please,” she breathed, taking hold of his hand. “I beg you not to.”