The Traitor's Daughter (Complete)

Part 4-Blackwood Manor

 The Blackwood Manor, so-called, was more of a palace than a country house. Vast woodlands surrounded it, with a lake in the middle. It was fronted by manicured lawns and a box maze. Even at first sight, it was an imposing structure.

The riders came to a stop in front of it. Liveried guards held open the doors as the tall man dismounted, picked up the still-unconscious girl in his arms, and strode inside.

"Call Nan, and bring me some hot water and blankets," he shouted, climbing up the stairs easily as if the girl weighed nothing.

Several servants ran to do his bidding.

He took her to one of the many bedrooms, and gently laid her on the vast bed. She looked so tiny and helpless, that his heart skipped a beat. He removed the bonnet from her head. Her tresses spilled out on the pillow. Moonlight fell into the room through the glass windows and shone on her hair, making it shine like gold.

He picked up the box of sulfur matches kept on a table, and lighted the taper, filling the room with still more light.

He was in the process of taking off her damp dress, when the door opened and an old woman walked in, carrying a basin of hot water. She had shriveled parchment-like skin and gray hair, and she still walked without bending, though her age was considerable. A maid followed behind her, a load of blankets in her arm.

He looked up and saw them.

"You're here, Nan. Good. Pass me a towel," he said, taking off her dress, then felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of her. Her figure was exquisite, and he could not help looking at certain parts.

"That's no work for you, Luke. Leave her to me," she said, taking a towel and dipping it in the hot water.

Luke protested, still lingering in the room, watching as Nan washed the girl's frozen body with the hot water. The maid hid a tiny smile.

"Out you go, lad," Nan shooed him from the room. "I'll call you when I'm done."

Reluctantly, Luke left the room but continued pacing impatiently on the landing. Who was she, he wondered. What had she been doing alone at this deserted place at this time of the night in such inclement weather? Was she running away from someone or something, or was she just a destitute woman? He would only get the answers to his questions when she woke up, but would she? He didn't know for how long she had been lying there, in the snow and icy wind.

Inside the room, Nan washed and cleaned the girl, then tucked her in the blanket. Though still unconscious, her color had improved a little.

Nan put her head out of the door and called Luke inside. He went to the bed and stood staring at her.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" he asked the old woman.

"I'm sure of it. Guess, by morning she should be up and about."

Luke picked up her hand and held it in both of his. It was no longer freezing. Her breathing was back to normal and the pallor was gone.

"Ask the cook to prepare some broth. She'll need it once she wakes up," he ordered the maid.

The maid went out, leaving him and Nan in the room. He pulled a chair near the bed and sat down. She turned in her sleep, an arm peeping out of the blanket. Luke frowned to see that it was bony as if she hadn't had enough to eat for days.

"What do you think, Nan?" he asked the old woman.

She stood with her hands on her hips, staring disapprovingly.

"I think it's too late at night to be out of my warm bed. You go to your room, too, Luke. One of the maids can sit here."

Luke smiled at that. She was the only one who could talk to him in that tone and not have her head chopped off. After all, she had been his nurse since his birth.

"You can go. I'm comfortable here," he replied with a wave of his hand.

She nodded at that, turning to go away. She knew how stubborn he was.

Once she had gone, Luke sat inspecting her face. The girl seemed to be young. Though her clothes had been the worse for the wear, yet she had an air around her which suggested a noble upbringing. The hours ticked by, and Luke dozed off in the chair.

He woke up at the sound of a groan. The girl was awake and trying to sit up.

"Wait," he said, rising and helping her sit. Then he propped two pillows behind her for support. She raised her long lashes and looked at him. Her eyes were as spectacular as he had imagined, being a cornflower blue.

Zena glanced groggily around the strange room until her gaze came to rest on the man standing beside the bed. She shrank back in fear.

"Don't be afraid. You're safe now," he said in a soft but deep voice.

"Did....did...you bring me here?" she croaked. Obviously, she was neither dead nor dying. In fact, she felt warm and rested, though hungry.

He nodded, ringing a bell.

"Welcome to Blackwood Manor. I'm Luke," he said, a small smile twisting his lips. He was a handsome specimen of manhood, and Zena glanced at him surreptitiously from under her lashes.

"Zena...," she whispered. Then watched as a maid walked in with a bowl on a tray. An appetizing aroma was wafting from the bowl.

Luke placed the tray in front of her. There was warm broth and bread. Zena's mouth watered at the sight, but she was hesitant to eat, for she didn't wish to be seen as too eager.

Luke sat down on the chair again.

"Eat up. You need the strength," he advised, then leaned back, narrowing his eyes.

It didn't take long for her to finish the meal. Zena licked her lips, then lay back on the pillows.

The man, Luke, sat up straight, then looked her in the eyes.

"Who are you and what were you doing on the road alone at night?" he asked her.