The Traitor's Daughter (Complete)

Part 6-Secret Identity

 They moved away from the window and he sat down again, his gaze observing her. Zena fidgeted under his intense scrutiny. What was he thinking?

She ran her eyes around the room. A coat of arms hung on the wall behind him, a smaller replica of it on the mantle too.

"Pro rege et patria," she read aloud.

"Do you know what that means?" he asked.

"For the king and the country," she said, then almost clapped her hand on her mouth in dismay. No daughter of an ordinary soldier would be able to read, let alone decipher its meaning.

"So, you have received an education," he said. It was not a question but a statement and that fact frightened her, but she could do nothing but nod in agreement.

"Hmm...." he seemed to muse aloud. "What else are you good at?" Was there a hint of innuendo in that question?

"I...I...am good at numbers," she confessed reluctantly.

"You would be perfect then for doing the accounts at Blackwood. I would expect you here at eight sharp in the morning."

"Thank you, my lord," she rose and curtsied again, then beat a hasty retreat from the study when he waved a hand in dismissal.

Luke rang the bell and a man entered the study. It was Dave, the one who had discovered her the previous night.

"Sire," he knelt, bowing his head.

"Enough of this formality, Dave," Luke rebuked.

Dave smiled. "I love my head on my shoulders, sire."

Luke laughed out loud, getting up and coming around.

"The girl, Dave. I think she is not what it seems. There's more to her story than she's ready to tell."

"What do you wish me to do, sire?" Dave asked, scratching his bearded chin.

Zena sat on the stool in front of the dresser, brushing her long hair. She had taken off the dress and was now clad only in the chemise and the petticoat. She had spent most of the day closeted in her room, not because she wanted to, but because she couldn't trust herself not to blurt out something which would give her away. She had only gone down for her meals, for she didn't wish to create more work for the maids. Anyway, she wasn't a guest at Blackwood Manor, but, now, she was an employee like them.

She was about to retire to bed when there was a knock on the door and before she could reply, Luke walked in, every bit the lord of the manor. His glance fell on her, with her semi-clad body visible through the fine linen of the chemise, and her hair falling over her back and shoulders like a golden cascade.

Zena sprang to her feet, with her arms clasped in modesty in front of her.

"My lord...." she murmured, eyes downcast, shying away from his bold gaze.

He seemed to have forgotten why he came, for his gaze was transfixed, his breathing heavy and fast. However innocent she might be, Zena knew that he was aroused.

He took a couple of steps, till he reached her. Then, with a hand on her shoulder, he pushed her back on the stool. Looking at her in the mirror, he stroked her hair, savoring the silken feel under his fingers. He then pried away her arms and stood gazing at her.

"You're breathtaking....." he commented, disrobing her with his eyes.

Zena felt painful color wash over her. She murmured in protest, trying to rise. Luke clamped her in place with an iron hand.

"What are you worried about, Zena? I saw a lot more of you last night..." he whispered.

"Please, go away," she pleaded.

He seemed to have awoken from a trance all of a sudden. Clearing his throat, he moved away from her.

"I have asked the seamstress to bring some suitable dresses for you," he said, casting a disparaging eye at the peasant dress where it lay on the bed.

"Thank you, my lord," she mumbled, not understanding the need for him to come to her room to convey only this bit of information. Peggy could easily have done that.

"Be ready by eight. I detest being kept waiting," he said, before walking away without a backward glance.

Zena heaved a sigh of relief once he had gone, then ran to the bed and got under the covers, pulling them up to her chin.

It wouldn't do for the lord of the manor to be attracted to her. That would make the situation fraught with danger. Even in her innocence, she understood that men like Luke were dangerous to her peace of mind. The problem was that she had nowhere else to go. Even to herself, she refused to acknowledge that she had gloried in his appreciative gaze, feeling as aroused as he. Sleep was a long time in coming that night.

Luke lay on the vast silk-covered bed in his room, mulling over what had taken place in the girl's bedchamber a while ago. He had almost lost control and could have taken her there and then. He had been that hungry for her. She was beautiful, like a fragile china doll, and it had needed great willpower to leave her alone and walk away.

Luke wasn't in the habit of doing that. Women usually vied to please him, in the hope of gaining his favors, though it had been a while since he had taken a mistress. It must be the simple and wholesome atmosphere of Blackwood Manor, which had made him offer Zena a job instead of the post of his mistress. Had they been in the palace at St. Helene, he was sure that she would have been in his bed by now.

Of course, she had no idea who he was. That itself was a wonder, but a source of great amusement to him. He enjoyed it while it lasted. Also, he still didn't know who she was, but Dave would soon find out. He just hoped for her sake that she wouldn't turn out to be untrustworthy and disloyal to the crown. For however much he might want her, he deplored disloyalty and deceit. The only place for such people was the dungeon or the noose. He hoped his newest obsession wouldn't end up like that. Or would she?