The Traitor's Daughter (Complete)

Part 54-Desperate

 Luke wriggled again on the uncomfortable couch, trying to settle his tall frame somehow. He had been feigning sleep. He knew the very moment that Zena walked into the bedchamber, wearing that sheer robe, her ripe figure faintly visible in the candlelight, and her fresh, sweet scent, reminding him of wildflowers. He inhaled her perfume, his senses stirring at the smell, as did his body. Luke pressed his lips tight to stop himself from calling out her name.

From the sound of her even breathing, he knew that she was asleep. It was understandable. She had been tired out by the long drawn-out ceremony. Luke recalled the exact moment he had glimpsed her walking down the aisle in his mother's wedding gown. She had looked like a vision of loveliness. All other women had paled in comparison to her. Then she had seen him and her eyes had clouded with disinterest. Any other woman would have given her eye teeth to be his bride, but not Zena. She had to be nudged to put that band on his finger and how she had flinched when he had lifted the veil and kissed her.

The crowd had gone berserk to see their prince married. They had welcomed the new princess with cheers. Zena had sported a false smile that had not reached her eyes. He had been hoping that things would change when he took her hand and led her to the dance floor. They had waltzed around the room a few times before she had said that she had had enough. Of course, she had her customary dance with her father, and then he had watched with anger as the farmhand Jack had bowed to ask for a dance. How readily had she agreed to his offer! He had watched from the corner of his eye, his temper rising as they matched their steps to the strains of a romantic song. He had bent and whispered something in her ear and she had nodded her head, leaving the floor and heading towards the open French doors.

Luke had dismissed the courtier who was gushing about the excellent match and strode towards the direction they had taken. At first, he had seen no one, then he had heard the sound of whispered conversation from behind an umbrella palm. Inching towards it, he had stood in silence, not willing to give away his presence, straining to hear what they were saying.

"So, lady, you're a proper princess now," Jack had said. "Does that mean you will no longer be returning to the farm?"

"Why? Will you miss me?" Zena had asked coquettishly, a lilt in her voice.

Jack had gazed earnestly into her eyes.

"You know that I will, don't you, Zena? You also know that I shall continue to love you till my last breath," he said, a wistful smile on his lips.

"Oh Jack, what a lovely thing to say," Zena had replied, her hand reaching out for his and clasping it. "I would have preferred to marry you any day, but you know what with the baby being an heir to the throne and all, I had no other option."

"Shh....don't let the Prince hear you. He will surely take my head off," Jack cautioned, but still bent to place a quick kiss on her moist, parted lips. Luke felt a rush of rage as Zena returned that kiss before drawing away from him. 

"You may be right. Let's go back to the hall. People are bound to be looking for me," Zena suggested, and they traced their steps back, not noticing the man who lurked in the shadows, murderous thoughts in his mind. 

Luke felt a sharp pang in the region of his heart as he recalled those moments. Zena clearly preferred a penniless farmhand to the ruler of the realm. How ironic was it, that the only woman he had ever loved, loved another.

Luke glanced at her sleeping figure as she moaned in her sleep. Was she perhaps, dreaming of her lover? She looked so innocent, her long lashes lying against her rosy cheeks, and her golden tresses spread over the pillow like the halo of the sun. She appeared angelic. Was he the Devil then, who had trapped her against her will?

The contents of his mother's diary blazed through his mind. Would history repeat itself? Would Zena be another Sophia, hating her husband, trapped in a loveless marriage, and pining for another man? No! He wasn't like his father. He wasn't a womanizer. He couldn't even contemplate touching any other woman but her.

His heart thudded sickeningly. If he remained loyal to her and showered her with all his love, would she, maybe one day into the future, forgive him and return his love? He prayed fervently that it would be so, or he would lose his mind. His life would be a wasteland, a barren desert, without Zena's love in it. Why hadn't he realized that before he alienated her?

Luke continued to berate himself, till she turned to her side and the robe fell open revealing a glimpse of her bosom with its satin skin. In the flickering candlelight, her body glistened like a pearl on a bed of velvet. He gasped, as his body felt a wave of heat pass through it. He made an effort to clamp down on his rising desire, then slowly, rose to his feet, approaching the bed.

He stood for a moment, staring at the temptation before him, then his hand reached out, picked up the rug, and pulled it over her exposed body. With a sigh, he moved away, picked up a pillow, and went back to the couch. He would have to spend tonight somehow. Walking out on his wedding night would only create a scandal and speculation that something was wrong in his marriage.

It was early morning when Zena stretched her arms, yawned delicately, and sat up. Luke had spent a sleepless night, burning with a hunger that he could not satisfy.

"Good morning, Zena," he greeted her, admiring how beautiful she looked even first thing in the morning, with her face framed by her disheveled curls and her eyes dewy from sleep.

"Good morning, Luke. Did you have a good sleep?" she asked with a feigned sweetness, knowing that the couch would have been most uncomfortable.

Luke's lips twisted in self-mockery.

"How could I sleep when my gorgeous wife was at an arm's length away? It's a wonder, Zena, that I did not join you in that bed," he mocked.

"Don't even try it, Luke. You're not welcome in my bed," she bit out, her eyes hardening and her lips pressed into a thin line.

"We'll see how long you can hold out, my dear," he said mildly, before rising and ringing for the servants.

Zena watched him walk into the connecting dressing room, her heart racing at his daring words. Last night he had taken off the coat, undone the buttons of his shirt, and rolled the sleeves to his elbows. Still, he had looked devastatingly handsome, his overlong dark mane tousled by sleep. Zena could feel butterflies in the pit of her stomach just at the thought of Luke sharing her bed. She might dislike him, but her body recognized his, remembered his possession, and was ready to betray her. She would have to be on her guard if she meant to save her self-respect by not giving in to his demands.

"Drat! We were beaten once again to it," Wilfred spat out. Smith and Pyke had brought word of the royal wedding. Martin was once again restored to his position and the heir might be born in a few months. Nothing was going as planned. He would have to up his game, or he would end up a loser. Elaine had left for her father's house, threatening to end the marriage if he failed in his mission. She had no time for a penniless fool, she said. Desperate times needed desperate measures, mused Eddy Wilfred. He would write to the ruler of Valeria to send a few of his choice men. Thus supported, he would have to aim for the jugular. They had to kill the devil prince and his spawn, only then would he be able to breathe easy.

"Take this letter to the king of Valeria," he told his men, handing them the sealed envelope. "Stay back and bring his reply," he directed, before seeing them off. Now, he had nothing to do but wait. Wait for the right moment to strike.....