The Reluctant Lord (Dragon Lords) (22 page)

Clara stiffened. A familiar perfume surrounded her.

“Clara?” Aeron whispered.

Clara turned wide eyes to find her parents standing in the middle of her Draig home. Their dispassionate faces gave nothing away as they stared at her.

The great lord was immaculate, from his powdered wig to his long jacket. Jaene was just as ornate with a pink gown encrusted with green gemstones, wide hoop skirt and a tall wig that was nearly half the woman’s natural height. Her mother’s face was paled by cosmetics, expect for the bright pink lips and cheeks, and green lashes and brows.

The couple matched, which only made Clara feel all the more out of place. Clara took a deep breath and then another before locking eyes with them. They both looked at her, not realizing who she was. No wonder. Decorum had many rules, and Clara currently was breaking most of them.

“You should leave,” she whispered to Aeron. The woman looked as if she might protest, but in the end she did as Clara indicated.

Clara drew the expression from her face and stoically made her way forward. She lifted her wrist to her mother. “Welcome to my new home, Great Lady.”

Her mother stood, unmoving, simply staring at her unpainted face. Clara turned to her father and lifted her wrist. Before she could finish the gesture, he snapped, “What dishonor is this? You dare to greet us dressed like a commoner? I thought you a servant.”

Clara drew her eyes to the floor. “Forgive me, Great Lord, for my appearance.” She felt like a child again, only worse. Out of all the things she’d done, of the times she dared to question them or acted even slightly contrary, she had never broken as many Redding customs as she did on this planet. She thought when she saw them she wouldn’t care about traditions, instead showing them how happy she was in her marriage. Instead, one smell of her mother’s perfume, two disapproving looks and she was reduced to what she was raised to be—their noble daughter…who was currently disappointing them.

“What did I tell you when you left?” her mother demanded.

Clara recited the words, “Remember the lady I have raised you to be. You represent all of your family with each action you take. I mourn your going, but rejoice in the next generation.”

“And yet your hair is loose and your skin is naked,” Jaene said. “Did the barbarians take your cosmetics?”

Clara thought of the young boys who’d thought her cosmetics were war paint. She started to chuckle. Her mother’s gasp stopped her and she dropped her head lower.

“Monitor yourself,” her mother demanded in a flat tone that was edged with hardness.

“Forgive me, Great Lady, for my new home’s customs,” Clara said in a docile tone. “I am only acting as the Great Lord of the Redding and the Emperor decreed and embracing the culture of my husband’s people. This is how noblewomen are expected to appear on this planet.”

“Do not be contrary to your mother, Clara,” her father asserted.

“Forgive me, Great Lord, for displeasing you,” she apologized yet again. Inside, a heavy sensation began to fill her. It left her a little sick to her stomach. She knew they disapproved of her and she was unable to say anything that would make them understand her new life—a life they had sent her to. “Has the new generation started?”

“All female,” the great lord answered. “Not the best start to a new line.”

Jaene lifted her hand and hovered it over Clara’s stomach. After a few moments, she said, “Perhaps this one will be male, Great Lord.”

Clara looked at her stomach. A baby? Vlad’s baby? Excitement filled her and it was very hard for her to keep it down. Luckily, the nobles were more focused on themselves than their daughter, and they missed the jittery fluttering in her chest.

News of her condition seemed to brighten her father some. “Then our timing is well planned, Great Lady.”

Clara wondered why she had never noticed the stilted way her parents spoke to each other. She thought of Arianwen and her sons. She thought of their laughter and warmth.

Her father continued, “When your mother told me of what your companion reported to her, I knew we must come as soon as it was convenient for us to do so.”

“All that beautiful material wasted on the floor.” Jaene gave a single shake of her head. “When I heard about the ruined bolts, I wished I had forced you to take the Emperor’s confidant, Lord Camern. Then the Emperor would not have been so angry and insisted you come here to these barbarians.”

Clara lifted her gaze. That was the first she’d heard of this being an actual punishment. Before she could think to stop it, she said, “Lord Camern is in love with himself.”

“Monitor!” her mother fervently whispered.

They still stood in the middle of the room. Clara realized her parents thought themselves above sitting on the Draig furniture.

“In such a short time, these primitives have done so much damage. I mourn the loss of my hard work.” The great lady shared a stoic look with her husband. “They have even taken her proper gowns and dressed her in this rag.”

Clara looked at the gown Arianwen had made for her after the mine collapse. She rather liked the ornate stitches along the sleeves. Seeing Jaene’s expressionless face, she wondered what her mother would think about Clara being trapped in a mine, alone with several men for days, eating spiders.

“And why is our family portrait on the floor?” Jaene gestured behind her.

“My lord husband has decided to respect the Redde tradition and is building a portrait hall where this is being moved. It will be the first hung in a position of honor.” Clara thought it a very sweet gesture by her husband. He seemed very proud of the idea, so she didn’t tell him she thought the eyes of her family staring at her when she kissed him was odd as well. Let him think he had that one secret.

“We will take her home now,” her father decided.

“As you wish, always as you wish,” Jaene agreed. “I will manage the problem and ensure your grandchild is not primitive. I will not have my daughter without noble refinements. I believe this is enough punishment. Though, perhaps you would wish that I redress her here, before we are seen by the crew?”

“That is what I so commanded,” the great lord answered, though he had said no such thing. “If the barbarians try to stop us, we’ll send armies to destroy them.”

The way he said it was so simple and matter of fact, as if he commented that the sky on Qurilixen was green.

“As you wish, husband, always as you wish,” Jaene said, never disagreeing with her husband’s words. Finally, as her parents’ will was decided, her mother lifted her hand to Clara in a loving gesture. Clara felt comfort in those thin blue veins, pale skin and fragrant perfume, but it was merely the comfort of a fond childhood memory. Without touching her daughter’s disagreeably naked face, Jaene let the gesture drop.

Clara instinctually repeated the movement with her own wrist to her mother. This had been the plan from the beginning. Come to Qurilixen, marry, become pregnant and then go home. She had done all they had sent her to do. When she looked at their expectant expressions, she knew she’d been a fool to think she would ever be allowed to stay with Vlad, no matter how much she loved him. Duty did not care about love. Her parents did not care what her heart wanted. She had no doubt her father would send his armies to take her by force if she tried to stay without their blessing. She had no wish for others to die on her behalf.

As she looked at them, her face became the stoic mask they would expect in their daughter. She stiffened her body and mimicked their statuesque poses. The gesture came easier now that she’d accepted her place.

“It will be as you wish,” Clara said, using every bit of strength she had not to cry. “But I have one condition that must first be met before we can go.”

* * *

Vlad growled as the castle finally came into view. He’d been running for nearly an hour in shifted form, trying to get home. Something was not right. His heart felt as if it was being torn from his chest. Clara had been a constant inside him and then suddenly, without warning, she’d disappeared. Though his muscles burned and his lungs heaved for air, he pushed harder.

He followed his instincts down the center hall to the common rooms. Grabbing the corner edge of the wall to propel himself on, he slid to a stop at the scroll room door. A light gasp sounded but he ignored it. His eyes desperately sought Clara, and he sighed with relief when he found that she was there and she was well. Then he noticed her tall wig and painted face. She sat still, perched on the end of a wide chair. The furniture accommodated her wide skirt.

The slow exhaling of breath was hardly noticeable to human hearing, but his dragon senses detected it easily. Next to his wife was an older Redde woman. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted. Though her face was devoid of any true emotion, he knew by the sound of her frantically beating heart he terrified her. By her face, he knew she was Clara’s mother. Vlad instantly shifted to human form and stepped forward.

“My apologies, I did not mean to frighten you,” he said. “You must be Clara’s mother, Lady Redding.”

“Lady Jaene, the Great Lady of the Redding,” Jaene corrected tersely. He recognized that tone. It was the exact same tone Clara had used at their wedding ceremony to correct him.

“Lady Jaene,” Vlad acknowledged. He found himself standing taller in response to their rigid positioning. He glanced questioningly at his wife, expecting a smile from her. Her eyes met his very briefly before she turned them forward and stared ahead.

“I am Lady Clara’s father, the Great Lord of the Redding,” a man said. Vlad had not seen him standing in the corner when he entered. He turned and bowed his head politely. For some reason, he felt like a scolded child when the man looked at him. “You may address me as Great Lord. My wife is Great Lady.”

“Great Lord.” Vlad bowed his head again, feeling somewhat compelled to formality. “I am Lord Vladan, Ealdorman Honorary of the Draig, High Mining Official.”

“So my daughter informed me,” the great lord said. He looked down his nose at Vlad, studying him. “She did not, however,” he gave Clara a dispassionate glance, “inform me you were a shifter.”

“I am sure she was respecting our planet’s custom of not sharing the fact with off-worlders that we are dragon shifters.” Vlad reached his feelings out and tried to silently get a sense of his wife’s emotions, but he detected nothing. She blocked herself from him. He didn’t like this.

The man nodded, accepting this answer. “This will certainly bring new blood to our line.” He looked at his wife. “We will have to reconsider our position.” Jaene nodded once in agreement. “Clara, you will be required to have more than the child you now carry.”

“Pregnant?” Vlad grinned. He suddenly didn’t care about his parent-by-marriage’s stuffy customs. He went to his wife and kneeled at her feet. “Is it true? A baby?”

Clara tried not to look at him. He saw her bottom lip tremble. A thin bead of moisture gathered along her bottom lashes but did not spill over. After several deep breaths, she said, “My father has agreed to speak to the Tyoe ambassador. They will not bother your people again, my lord husband. If they do, my father has pledged his Redde army to come and defeat them with their very presence. The Tyoe will not risk angering him.”

“Clara?” he whispered. Why wouldn’t she look at him? What was wrong with her?

“Do get off the floor,” the great lord demanded.

Vlad didn’t readily obey. However, when it became apparent Clara was not going to look at him, he slowly rose to his feet. What was he not understanding? What had they done to his wife?

“It is as my daughter says,” the great lord continued only when Vlad was standing fixedly before him. “We sent her here to marry. Duty dictates we honor your connection to our family and provide aid should your planet need it. Clara has called upon us to honor that duty. The Tyoe are easy-enough foes. They will bend to my will, as most foes do.”

“Then on behalf of my people, I thank you for your interference. We will fight, but avoiding war and the loss of life is always preferable. I knew there was reason the gods blessed me with such a fine wife.” Vlad tried very hard to hide his irritation. Oh, but he was irritated. This man was insufferable and arrogant and…what in the known universes had they done to his wife? He should be swinging her in circles, screaming to the heavens his good fortune over the new baby. Instead, he felt like the character in some strange play, acting as someone other than himself. “The gods sent Lady Clara to me to—”

“I sent Lady Clara to marry a nobleman,” the great lord corrected.

“It is their culture, Great Lord,” Clara said softly. “Here the gods are everywhere.”

The great lord nodded in understanding but did not apologize.

“My daughter has requested a moment with you before we are to leave,” the great lord said.

“You are not staying?” Even as he offered, Vlad was somewhat relieved. The fact they were Clara’s parents made him feel guilty about it. “I can have the servants prepare a wing for you. It is decorated for a High Duke.”

“No,” was all the great lord said. He reached his arm to his wife, hooking it to help her to her feet. The heavy weight of her gown swung around her before settling. She nodded at him and followed her husband from the room.

Clara held her arm like her mother had. Vlad hooked it and helped her up. He smiled now they were alone. “Is it true, sweet wife? A baby?” He moved as if to grab her face to kiss her.

She shook her head and pulled back. Clara put distance between them. “When my father said we were leaving, he meant
we
. I’m going with them.”

Vlad furrowed his brow and balled his fists. “They’re not taking you away. You’re my wife, Clara. You love me. I don’t know what kind of drug they put in that war paint of yours, but you do love me. If I have to scrub you down myself I will, but you love me.”

Clara inhaled a shaky breath. “Vlad, please, don’t.” Her will slipped and he felt inside her. She did love him and her heart was breaking. He tried to touch her and she again stepped away from him, this time putting furniture between them.