Bertrice Small - Captivated

"Master say undress you, missus, and make you comfortable."

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes." Comfortable… that didn't nearly describe this beautiful room. And all for her.

She stood still as a mannequin as Evie positioned her in front of the armoire mirror and pulled forward a cushioned stool.

"Missus is tall, pleasing to the master," she murmured as she stepped up and began pulling out the pins that held Drue's wedding veil. It fell in a drift of tulle onto the thick Persian carpet.

"We gonna fold him up and store him away, save him for missus's daughter someday," Evie said, as she retrieved the fragile material and laid it on the bed.

"You hold still now, missus. We gonna be real careful with this beautiful gown."

Drue could just see her over her shoulder in the mirror. If I could just disappear into the mirror… She watched in fascination as Evie carefully unfastened the intricate hooks and slipped the dress off her, inch by inch; first the shoulders, then the bodice, then down over the hooped petticoat until it lay in a puddle of ivory silk at her feet.

And like a little bird, Evie hopped down, lifted the dress up and draped it on the bed. "Louisa gonna take care of that for you, missus. Not to worry. Now, that old cage petticoat" She untied the strings and it was gone. "And them drawers and stockings. And that corset. Should be burned, it so tight. You feel better when we get it off. Then we get you a nice bath and dinner, and you be ready for the master."

She was chattering, Drue thought, to keep her calm, and to keep her mind off what was to come. But she was thinking of nothing else, and when Evie helped her into a satin wrapper, she was terribly aware of the feel of the creamy material against her hot, bare skin.

"Come."

This was luxury: Evie led her to an alcove between the bedrooms, a bathing room with an iron tub set on a marble platform, which Charles was in the process of filling with steaming water. And Louisa waited, with a tray of soaps, oils, and towels.

"In you go, missus."

Drue sank into the heat like it was her lover's arms. Gerard…

NO!

The water lapped against her skin, hot, welcome, reassuring.

Focus on Court. Think about Court. Let Court into your thoughts. Just tonight. Just once. Court's not an animal. Court won't hurt you.

Soft… everything soft…

She sank into the water, closing her eyes against reality as Louisa began washing her hair. This was the dream: a life of unutterable wealth as the wife of one of the most prominent men in the state.

What was a moment of surrender compared to that?

Soft… his hands would be soft, like Gerard when he petted her and coaxed her into giving him a kiss…

No!

She moved restively in the water, sending waves over the side of the tub.

"Shhh, missus, shhhh…" Louisa crooned as she poured a vial of oil into the bath water. "Master not gonna hurt you no how. Don't you worry none… shhhh…"

How did she know? How did she know?

Drue leaned back into those gentle hands that were massaging her head so firmly, so competently, into the rich oily water that soaked into her skin.

"Shhh, missus, shhhh…" Louisa soaping her body, singing under her breath now, lulling, soothing, comforting.

She could stay there forever, she thought, just give herself over to Louisa's kind hands, and float away to oblivion.

"Missus…" Evie's voice intruding on the silence. "It's time."

Time? Time? The water was cold now, her hair drenched, her body dripping as she reluctantly took Louisa's hand and stepped out of the tub and into the towel Evie held out for her.

"There you go, there you go, missus," Evie murmured, wrapping her tightly in the towel and then leading her back into the bedroom and seating her on the bed, from which the dress and veil had been removed. "Sit you down, missus. There you go. I make you ready for the master."

Ominous words. Drue cringed. Make you ready…

Evie at her feet, rubbing them, and her legs, and then wrapping them in another towel. At her hair next, briskly drying it.

She felt sapped, suddenly. Bereft.

Make you ready…

Evie took her brush and began combing through her tangled hair. Slow, calming strokes, sliding the brush through the thick strands. She was the ideal ladies' maid, properly deferential, experienced in all the ways of handling her mistress.

Just what you would expect from the master of Wildwood…

Her breath caught. Master of Wildwoodmaster of her…

"We ready now, missus." Evie's soft voice in her ear. "Stand you up now so I can take these wet towels."

She stood, limp as a rag doll, and let Evie remove the towels.

"Master come to you soon, missus."

Evie turned away, leaving her standing naked in the middle of the room.

"Eviemy robe…"

Evie turned at the door. "Master give the word, missus. You wait for him there, like so. No robe. No towel. No clothes. Nothing. Nothing to keep you from the master's desire."

And then, before Drue could react, before she could move, Evie exited the room and locked the door emphatically behind her.

"Evie?" She pounded frantically on the door. "Evie…! Evie…!"

Nothing. No one. She wheeled and darted into the bathing alcove, but Louisa was gone as well, silent as a ghost; the connecting door was bolted.

Locked in! Like an animal confined for mating…

She felt murderous, vulnerable. She grabbed the bedspread and wrapped it around her shaking body. She would never be naked for him. Never!

She wanted every just impediment to their union.

She wanted Gerard. Furiously, she pulled open the armoire doors.

Empty! But what did she expect; they were his servants, they had no loyalty to her, they would do his bidding, not hers. And obviously, they had had strict instructions to remove her clothes.

Mistress of Wildwood… she thought bitterly, pulling the bedspread tighter around her body as she paced around the room… In name only. In reality she was nothing more than his slave, as much at his beck and call as anyone else in the house.

And he had set it up so well she had nowhere to run… and no place to hide.

How could her father have let this happen? How could Gerard?

And thenthe waiting; how long would he make her wait? And when he camethen what?

He's entitledto a hundred thousand dollars worth of my body … Alifetime of servicing him in the name of filial love and daughterly devotion…

A brood mare…

She stopped her furious pacing by the satin-draped window and she pulled back the filmy under curtain. There was peace and beauty outside that windowthe bright midday sun softened by the shadows of the oaks that lined the drive, the rolling green lawn stretching to the road, and the levee and the flowing river beyond.

There was no one in sight. In a house like Wildwood, all of the work was done subtly, behind the scenes, so that all a visitor or a passerby saw was a picture of calm and serenity.

But she was neither calm nor serene. A moment from now, or an hour, Court would unlock that door and demand his marital rights.

It was unimaginable. She was so used to Gerard's gentlemanly way of courting her. Of respect and reverence. Of kisses lighter than a soufflé.

She knew already that Court was a man of intensity and passion, and a temper that was under laid by a very short fuse. He had a low tolerance for fools, and no store of patience at all. When Court wanted something, he got it, and she knew that her body was no exception. He would not have agreed to the bargain if he hadn't, for some reason, wanted her.