The Ward

Sage looked away with the discomfiting realisation that the Lord was more cunning than she first presumed. Still dwelling on her last slip of tongue, the Lord resumed his interrogation.

"How did you alter your appearance in the forest?"

"Alter my appearance?" she echoed, feigning puzzlement. "Is the Master of sound mind?" she queried with sweet insolence.

Amusement brightened Edmund's brooding features, and it immediately put Sage on guard.

"I'll find out what I want to know, soon enough. You will yield everything I desire," he said softly, warmly staring at the top of her chest visible above the water, and Sage tried to dip lower beneath it as he took a step closer. But then he unexpectedly turned on his heel and left the room.

Fixing troubled eyes on the steaming, fluid surface, Sage started and her jaw dropped as Edmund returned with two sturdy lads behind him.

"You were told what would happen, if you disobeyed."

The boys accompanying him looked rather uncertain, but they had orders and would not question them. Sage shrieked and thrashed in the water as they seized her. She was dragged naked from the tub, and held still for their Lord.

Edmund stared. The girls' skin was flawless as a royal, unweathered by toil or sun. With perfect breasts and alluringly curved hips, it was no wonder she was pursued by Lord Stiles. Freed from the plait, her dark hair was rarely voluminous. It was common for rich women to have similar wigs made to imitate the appearance, and it was with frequent distaste that Edmund discovered this when they were abed. He hated deceptions.

With three sets of male eyes on her nudity, Sage was thoroughly humiliated, aware this was meant for a punishment that might have been avoided. The Lord could easily have handled her alone, but was trying to gently teach her not to challenge him. Sage snarled at the notion, until she looked down and saw something very hard pressing against the front of his pants. It was the part of a man she had been taught to fear. Edmund reached to tickle her chin in a beckoning gesture and their eyes met.

"It would be very unwise to fight me now," he said huskily, his eyes burning. "Understand?"

Though she wanted to scream insults and fight, Sage slowly nodded, and Edmund in turn nodded to the boys and she was released. They retreated a safe distance, casting discreetly appreciative glances at Sage's slender back and perfectly round buttocks.

Sage hung her head and allowed the Lord to slowly dress her, his hands lingering on her flesh in an unusual way that made her feel strange. Finally, he buttoned up the centre of the white servants dress, which differed from the rest of his staff by its intricate lace collar and sleeves. Gently arranging her wet hair to one side, he smiled at Sage's confusion.

"You are unused to a man's touch?"

Sage didn't answer, but gazed at Edmund with a bewildered innocence that made his cock painfully hard.

While he grappled with lust, Edmund's mind worked on the mystery. He'd found her alone, dressed differently to any girl he'd seen, but clearly cared for. She was well-spoken, with a refined accent that he couldn't place. Someone raised her in solitude, but not so much that she feared engaging with others. Someone educated her, as she was certainly not ignorant.

Nicholas Stiles wanted the girl for reasons Edmund intended to uncover. There was too much unknown about the girl to set her free. On top of it all, Edmund was starting to feel that perhaps he wanted her even more than Nicholas.

******

After a polite knock, Simon entered Edmund's office. Edmund carefully finished rolling a piece of parchment before giving the visitor any attention.

"You sent for me, my Lord?" The boy asked nervously.

"Yes, Simon." Edmund sat back in his chair to carefully watch the boy's face. "Tell me what you know of the girl."

"T-The girl?" Simon rudely stammered, forgetting to properly address his master.

"Yes. And before you lie, know that nothing could convince me you have not seen her before."

"Yes, my Lord, of course," Simon quickly answered, swallowing convulsively as Edmund impatiently tapped a finger to the gleaming brown desk. "I think I saw her once in town-" he feebly began, but stopped at the foreboding look on Edmund's face.

"She is not from town. How did you cross paths?"

"I...she..." Simon muttered, wringing his hands without realising the revealing gesture.

"Simon, I thought you trusted me."

"I do, my Lord," the boy said earnestly.

Simon liked Lord Bard. He was one of the few rich folk who chose to pay his servants above the norm. But respectable as he was, the Master was not a man to cross. If any abused his lenient manner, they were sent packing to fend for themselves. Or if the crime was bad enough, publicly whipped by his own hand.

"Then why are you lying?"

"Because I promised," he replied wretchedly, his face turning red as the lining of his coat.

Edmund sat up straighter in his chair.

"Promised whom?"

"The girl."

"You promised the girl that you would tell no one you had ever met?" Edmund said slowly, leaning forward, his face darkened with incredulity. "Simon, this is no time for games."

"She saved my life," Simon confessed in a rush. "She saved my life, and I was grateful. I promised to tell no one."

"What happened? How did she save you?"

"I ran to the forest. A creature found me and...I don't know how she managed. But it was like she ought not to have..." Simon muttered something, very lowly, but Edmund picked up some of it.

"Did you say witchcraft?" Edmund said sharply. "That is a very dangerous accusation, Simon."

"Yes, my Lord."

Edmund looked down at the desk in front of him, remembering how the alluring girl suddenly transformed into a repulsive crone. And Nicholas had purposely sent two of his best men to find her.

Finally he fixed the servant boy with an unreadable stare. "Simon, tell no one we spoke of this. Keep your promise to the girl. And for the love of all that's Holy, never mention witchcraft again."

"Yes, my Lord," Simon nodded with relief. He jumped as the door behind him abruptly opened.

"My Lord, dinner will be ready shortly," Joel said tiredly, mopping his brow.

Nodding to Simon that he was dismissed, Edmund grinned at Joel as the boy hurriedly left the room. "You seem out of spirits, Joel. I wonder what has beset you."

Joel glared. "You will be pleased to know the girl is in excellent health. Shackling her was no simple task."

Unable to stop himself, Edmund laughed. "I am hardly surprised."

"My Lord, may I speak plainly?"

Edmund leaned back in his chair and raised a wary eyebrow.

"I do not condone this charade. You are not Lord Stiles."

"I like to think myself more handsome," Edmund pleasantly replied, comically tossing his head.

"My Lord, she is not of low birth. If she is discovered here by her people, in shackles-!"

Edmund clasped his hands together in a gesture of sincerity. "Then I would, of course, relinquish her to a legitimate carer. But none will come. She may be noble, but I am well-travelled, as you know. I have never seen the like of her."

"Mark my words, someone will come to claim her."

"Oh, dear. Perhaps I should gift her to Nicholas?"

"My Lord, absolutely not!" Joel gasped.

"I think you have taken a liking to the girl," Edmund observed with a teasing smile.

"A paternal interest, I assure you," his steward stiffly replied.

"I presumed as much. Joel, do not forget she is mine, and I will do with her as I wish."

"No man with a scrap of conscience could give that girl to Lord Stiles," Joel said sharply, visibly tormented by the prospect.

"I recall you once begged me to befriend him," Edmund said silkily, twirling a green ribboned ornament between his fingers.

"I begged you not to drown him in the lake, when you were fifteen," Joel retorted, shuddering at the memory.

Edmund frowned, distracted. "So you did. Remind me why I tried?"

Joel hesitated. "It was an unfortunate matter with your horse."

Edmund's jovial reminiscing quickly faded with the recollection. "You should have let me drown the bastard."

"We all carry regrets," Joel murmured, and Edmund sighed.

"Would it ease your mind to know this charade is for the young lady's protection and safety?"

Mostly.

Joel nodded, looking unconvinced.

Edmund leaned to the side to check the door behind Joel was fully closed, before continuing in a much lower tone. "Lord Stiles wants her for more than her beauty."

"What do you mean, my Lord? It is no secret that much of Lord Stiles' leisure is spent on unwilling young women."

"He sent two fighters to find this one in the forest. He knew she would be there."

Joel slowly shut his eyes as though enduring great pain. "My Lord, do not tell me you went into those woods without escort."

Edmund chuckled at Joel's expression of long-suffering and his servant glared at him.

"They will talk," Joel referred to the general household.

"Servants gossip to enrich their lives. Let them," Edmund shrugged.

"Well, my Lord, the hour grows late. When you are ready to face dinner with your new guest..." Joel trailed off with a warning look that indicated there was quite an ordeal in store for his Master.

Edmund grinned in return. "I will manage. She is refreshingly singular, I quite like her."

"Yes, my Lord. I noticed," Joel said dryly, eyeing Edmund's attire before leaving the room.

Striding down the large hallway in the direction of the kitchen, Joel reflected that his Master usually dressed well, but seemed particularly charming that evening. The idea that Edmund had gone to any lengths to impress a female, let alone one who'd been humiliatingly shackled at his command, gave Joel a rare urge to burst into laughter.