Chapter 10

Clara was walking through a garden, it was a hot, sunny day, the sun soaring high in the clear blue sky. Scorching hot day, one could say, Clara was almost sweating, despite wearing only a thin nightgown. She leaned down to pick up a rose, carefully plucking it from the bush so she wouldn't get hurt by the thorns. But the flower didn't have any, as she noticed while raising it up to her nose. It didn't smell like a rose at all. No, it smelled like apples and something else, something manly, but not in an unpleasant way. Like Oscar.

Smiling, she took a deep breath, savoring that scent, wrapping her arm tighter around the source of that heat. Her arm? Wait a moment. What was happening? Chasing the dream away, Clara's mind went over the events of last night. When she could think straight again, her eyes widened in horror upon realizing she was cuddled up to Oscar Huxley's back, one of her arms hugging his chest. Sniffing the skin on the back of his neck like a weirdo.

He wasn't moving, only his chest was going up and down as he took deep breaths, perhaps he was still asleep? Clara tried to pull her arm back carefully, shuffling back to her side of the bed as quietly as she could manage. It was uncomfortably cold.

"Good morning." Oscar rolled onto his back, stretching his arms and folding them under his head. There was a grin on his face and he seemed wide awake.

Clara nervously clutched the blanket, pulling it closer to her chest, fairly certain her cheeks had turned scarlet at that point. What an idiot she has made out of herself. "Good morning." It felt rude not to respond even though she would prefer to become invisible. "I'm sorry, I… I think I was cold." Yes, she remembered not being able to fall asleep, trembling from a mixture of fear, exhaustion, and cold. But she certainly didn't remember crawling over the whole width of the bed and wrapping herself around her new husband like a vine.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Clara. You can hug me all you want. I would have hugged you back to keep you even warmer but I'm a man of my word." He waved his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender before putting them back under his nape. "I didn't touch you." He was probably mocking her a little but Clara accepted that. After freaking out when he tried to touch her yesterday and then spending the entire night cuddled up to him she probably deserved to be made fun of.

It was late summer and the mornings were getting colder, especially since they forgot to close the balcony doors, or at least shut the drapes, and a soft breeze was running through the room. Clara shivered, feeling goosebumps popping up on her arms, and Oscar didn't miss it. "It's still pretty warm over here," he smirked, lifting up the blanket next to him. His tone was playful and Clara found herself drawn to him. Despite being a complete stranger to her, he made her feel nothing but safe and protected. And it was quite cold.

As she moved back to him quickly, before she could think about it more and change her mind, he looked surprised, pleasantly so. At least Clara hoped. Hesitantly, she laid down next to him and rested her head against his shoulder, trying to get her hair out of the way. It was one big curly mess, she forgot to braid it before she went to bed and now she will have to spend half an hour brushing and untangling it. But that could wait.

Oscar put his arm around her, waiting whether she would protest against it. When she didn't, he added the other arm as well, pulling her closer and wiggling and squirming for a moment before he found a comfortable position. With her eyes closed, Clara enjoyed the warmth he emanated and inhaled deeply through her nose to savor his scent.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Oscar sounded embarrassed upon noticing her sniffing him. Seriously, she had to stop doing that, it must have seemed so incredibly weird. "I got sweaty from all the dancing last night. Hmm, my brother warned me that a young wife means a life of toil. I guess that sucker was right about something." Clara felt his shoulders twitch as he chuckled and couldn't help herself but do the same. "I'll bathe once we get out of bed."

Awesome, now she made him think he stunk even though it was quite the opposite. "You are not that much older than me." Or was he? "You can't be more than twenty-five. Twenty-eight tops." Clara blushed and after a moment of hesitation, she added quietly, "And you smell great."

"Oh, my dear wife, now you have insulted me!" Even if he weren't laughing, Clara would know from his tone he was just joking. "I'm twenty-four, actually. No gray hair yet. And thank you."

"So, you have a brother?" It was infuriating. Was he an Orellian nobleman, she'd know at least these basic things about him.

She felt his fingers play with her hair, stroking it softly. "Yes, two older brothers, just like you." It seemed he had more information about her than she had about him. "Only mine are perfect in every possible way, as opposed to me, who has always been more of a black sheep of our family. And even though they are assholes, we still love each other. I think you will like them, once we come to visit." It should have felt strange how he planned their future but it didn't. If only she could have a future. The man gave her five days. What hurt could it do if she spent one of them pretending to have a normal life? Getting to know her husband? "Oh, and my parents, they're going to love you. My mother especially, she'll be absolutely thrilled."

Clara blushed. "Well, you've already met my mother. I don't think being thrilled is even in the arsenal of her emotions." Clara was unable to hide slight contempt from her words and she regretted it immediately. Oscar seemed to love his family greatly, what was he going to think about her upon hearing such ugly words about Clara's own mother? "But she liked you."

"I'm not so sure she did," Oscar chuckled. "I think she was just relieved."

"That you weren't old, fat, and ugly?"

He playfully pulled on her hair. "No, my dear wife. I think she was relieved that I was indeed from a wealthy and important family. I take it the old, fat, and ugly were your worries?" Clara groaned quietly, covering her face with her hands, but before she could start apologizing, Oscar laughed. "It's alright. What do you think my first thoughts were? I mean Hayden hates me, so, naturally, I assumed he was going to marry me off to some ugly mean hag who'd make my life a living hell. I contacted some people trying to get more information about you because I didn't really believe him that you were such a perfect, young and beautiful lady as he made you sound."

"Is that how you knew about my brothers?"

Clara felt him wiggle uncomfortably and when he answered, he sounded a bit ashamed. "Yes. Karina called it spying but I really just asked around."

"No, it's fine. I think." He talked about her with the queen? They must have really been close friends. Still, it all made her feel uneasy. "I would have done the same if I had the opportunity."

His finger gently caressed her cheek before returning to her hair. "I'm sorry. You can ask me anything you want, I promise I won't lie to you."

"What else have you found out about me?" Clara was quite curious about what did other people say about her.

"Uh…" Oscar hesitated and when Clara lifted her head to look at him, he was biting on his lower lip. Damn, was it that bad? "I promised I wouldn't lie, so I won't answer that question yet because it would kind of spoil a surprise I have for you."

Clara felt a wave of almost childish excitement. "A surprise?" Who doesn't love surprises?

"Later." There was a smirk on his face and sparkles of mischief in his eyes but, for some reason she didn't understand, Clara trusted him it wouldn't be anything bad. How did he do it? She didn't even know him for the whole twenty-four hours and he already made her trust him so much. Not with everything, though. Nobody could be trusted with the secret of the glass vial, safely packed among her perfume bottles. "I'll go check if the bath is ready."

As he got out of bed, Clara noticed he slept in his underpants and a shirt and wondered whether he did that normally or he was trying to avoid making her feel uncomfortable. And a tiny part of her mind wondered what he would look like without the shirt. Not that she would admit it.

He didn't seem overly muscular, clearly not a warrior, but he wasn't gangly like some of the clerks in the palace that looked like spiders with long thin arms and legs and no chest to speak of. From what she could see of his legs (before she politely turned away while he put on his breeches), the muscles were clearly defined, and she remembered how strong his arms felt when he held her.

There were two small doors in the back of the room Clara hadn't noticed before and Oscar disappeared in one of them. If he noticed the way she was looking at him, he didn't let it show. The smirk stayed fixed on his face though, so he probably did notice. Clara shook her head, trying to clear her mind. What was she doing? She needed to focus on saving Sebastian, not thinking about how good this stranger's arms felt when they were wrapped around her. Plus, Oscar wanted more than just to hug her and, despite his proclamations, his patience wasn't going to be limitless. He would get increasingly annoyed with her until she did what he wanted. Sophia's descriptions ran through her mind again and Clara shuddered. Was her mother really wrong about it?

She heard some voices from behind the door where Oscar went and quickly got out of bed, reaching for a robe to cover her thin nightgown. Before she could decide whether she should go see who her husband was talking to, the door opened again and Oscar peeked inside, smiling at her. A tiny woman followed him in the room, long gray hair gathered in a loose bun on her nape, a few smooth tresses framing her face. She looked so frail that the slightest breath of wind could break her in half but there was a wide, warm smile on her wrinkled face.

"This is Friska," Oscar said, gently tapping the woman's shoulder before moving to Clara. "She's my… I don't know, a maid, I guess?" He chuckled, clearly they were quite close.

The woman walked in front of Clara and made a clumsy curtsy, her gnarled hands lifting the skirt of her simple brown gown. "It's such a pleasure to meet you, Lady Clara." She sounded so honest and positive, almost excited, that it forced a smile on Clara's lips. Friska stepped closer and slowly reached for Clara's hand, bowing her head to kiss it. "Gods, you are so lovely!" she said in a shaky voice.

"Friska!" Oscar hissed at her, giving Clara a worried look.

As his wife, Clara had very limited control over her own life. But, as a new lady of his household, she was in control of all the servants they employed. If she wanted to have this old woman punished for her clearly inappropriate behavior, Oscar couldn't exactly object against that. Not that she would want to, the old maid was adorable and Oscar clearly held her dear. "Thank you, Friska." Clara touched her shoulder and smiled at Oscar to let him know she didn't mind. "I have to say that your name is very unusual. Or is that a common one in Levanta?"

Oscar sighed, rolled his eyes, and disappeared behind the door again while the maid chuckled quietly. "Actually, my real name is Francesca, my lady. But when the young lord was just a small cub, he couldn't pronounce it properly. So, he started to call me Friska and it sort of stuck with me. You can call me however you wish, my lady." Friska bowed her head again, clearly nervous in front of Clara after Oscar snapped at her. "And I apologize, I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's quite alright. I'm not the one who would insist on formalities." Clara tried to calm the maid down and gently touched her cheek to make her look up, surprised by how warm and soft the wrinkled skin of the old lady felt. "You don't have to worry about offending me. Or be afraid of me for that matter. Did anyone else come over with lord Huxley?"

Showing her incomplete teeth in a wide smile, Friska shook her head. "I'm afraid it's just my old hide. The young lord never really needed servants. But he did say you can employ other people if you want, some real maids to help you out with dresses and hair and such. I've only ever taken care of boys, I don't really know what a proper lady needs."

Neither did Clara. Gods, she was expected to lead Oscar's household. She wasn't even sure what it meant, let alone how to do that! Oscar really deserved someone better.

"Go enjoy your bath, my lady, I'll set up a meal for you and the young lord." Friska gave her another smile and scuttled away to pick up Clara's dress from the floor.

Clara hesitantly walked over to the bathroom door, suddenly quite nervous. Did Oscar expect her to bathe with him? It didn't seem like he'd force her but wouldn't he be disappointed if she didn't want to? Or did she want to? The door creaked when she pushed against it.

***

This is the end of the excerpt from the story. Full story will be published on A m a z o n. You can find more information on my FB author page @AuthorAnnaSvoboda.