virgin blood mixed with his semen—on the sheet. Proof. Excellent. He kissed her cheek, then realized there was something important he had to do. Quickly washing himself, he pulled on clean garments, headed out into the hallway, and
summoned the hotel's housekeeper, Mrs. Bristol and his valet, Mackenzie.
Within moments of him ringing the bell, a quiet scratch on the door revealed
a plump, smiling woman in a gray dress, silver side curls bouncing around her face from under a white mob cap. Close on her heels, Mackenzie entered the sitting room, his uniform and hair rumpled, yawning hugely.
“Sorry, boss,” the man said, the sounds of Yorkshire laying so heavily on his
voice, Christopher almost couldn't understand him. It's always worse when he's
tired.
“Not to worry,” Christopher replied. “When did you get back?”
“Around two in the morning,” Mackenzie said, rubbing his eyes. Their
redness made the cornflower irises look even brighter. The young man tugged at
his uniform.
“Is your mother better?” Christopher asked.
“Aye,” he replied, rumpling his already-messy reddish hair so it stood up like
the flame of a candle.
Christopher nodded in acknowledgment and got straight to the point. “I have
a difficult request to ask of you both. I have married a lovely young woman who
has suffered more than anyone should ever have to suffer. The abuse she has endured is beyond imagination. But she's mine now, and I will not allow her to
be harmed again. As of a few minutes ago, we were married beyond all
redemption. Do you understand?”
They nodded, faces wreathed in questions.
He continued. “First of all, no one is to know of the abuse. I don't want her
embarrassed. If anyone asks, please say we were struck with a mad passion for
each other and could do nothing other than marry as quickly as possible. It's not
a lie, you understand?”
“Yes sir,” Mackenzie agreed. Mrs. Bristol nodded again.
“And then, I want you both to gossip like never before. Tell everyone who will listen how very… passionate our marriage is. Soon, I will take her out for a
while. Mrs. Bristol, there is a bloodstain on the bed. You understand what this means.”
“I do,” the woman replied, her plump cheeks turning pink even as her lips curved into a smile. The skin around her blue eyes crinkled.
“It is vitally important that everyone know it was there. In fact, if you would
be so kind as to save the sheet without cleaning it, it might be beneficial. But you must tell everyone how very… physical my wife and I are together. There can be
no doubt, in the interests of her safety, that our marriage is completely legal. Can I count on you both?”
“Oh yes,” Mrs. Bristol said, and Mackenzie agreed easily.
The uncomfortable conversation finished, Christopher dismissed the two and
flopped gracelessly on the sofa. At last, he'd accomplished his goal of ensuring
Katerina's safety, and now, he suddenly felt overwhelmed by the events of the last twenty-four hours. As the adrenaline faded, his mind cleared.
Dear Lord, I really married Katerina. What was I thinking? He had been caught up in a frenzy of protectiveness towards this young woman, but to what
personal cost? He desired her, but he barely knew her. And now she's my wife, my utterly irrevocable wife. Perhaps this impulsive act was not the only way to save her, but try though he might, he could think of no other. In order to preserve
her, he had sacrificed himself; his future, his ability to choose a wife later, when he was ready. If she never healed, if she remained wary and damaged, or worse,
went mad, there would be no recourse.
But then he remembered all their brief encounters. How sweet she is, how eager to be loved, to be touched. She even enjoyed being bedded. There was
