Beloved Monster (12 page)

“Why did you allow me to kiss you?” Luke asked, his voice quiet and serious. “Did you feel sorry for me? Was it merely pity that prompted you?”

Glenna frowned at the abrupt change in topic. “Hardly. I kissed you back with great enthusiasm if you recall.”

“What I do recall is that I acted inappropriately according to society. Yes, I do remember there are rules. Not sure why I would recall such a thing. But it was forward of me to make such a request.”

She smiled. “I did not mind.” And she didn’t, in fact she longed for him to do it again.

“Was it your first kiss?”

Blast.
Glenna shifted uncomfortably. How to explain?
No, Luke. You kissed me in your former life.
“My first real kiss came from a dissolute, unfeeling rake that broke my heart.” Well, at least she spoke the truth.

Luke’s gaze softened. “I am sorry you were hurt. Can you tell me about it?”

How awkward was this? Would telling the tale jog his memory somehow? Should she take the chance? She quietly sipped her tea. Again her conflicting thoughts filled her mind. On one hand, she did not want him to remember being Ravenswood. What if he reverted to that man’s horrid personality? On the other hand, she felt compelled to help him recall his former life as it was cruel to leave him in the dark. “He was the heir to an earl. How exciting to think this handsome man could be interested in me. We spoke in the village on several occasions; then he suggested a more private meeting place.”

“And you agreed.”

“Silly, infatuated girl that I was, yes, I agreed. His kiss was bent on seduction. I met him at a private place in the woods to…to… Well, you can imagine. I wanted more than the physical between us. He let me know in no uncertain terms he wanted me for one thing only, and since I refused, he made it crystal clear he wanted nothing more to do with me. He turned on his boot heel and left.”

“A swine of the first order. You had a lucky escape,” Luke said, his tone firm.

This situation almost made her giggle hysterically. How ironic Luke passed judgment on himself. “Yes, a lucky escape,” she whispered.

“I could escape, you know.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“As I said this afternoon, I want answers more than anything. At least, more than I wish to escape.” Glenna could not stop the slight shiver that rolled down her spine. “It is not a threat, merely stating a fact. Do not be alarmed. I would never harm you. Ever.” He thought her shiver came from fear. Far from it. Quite the opposite. “Besides, there is another reason.” He paused, and reached for her hand. Leaning in, he brushed his cool lips across her skin, then gently laid her hand on the bed. “You, Glenna. You mesmerize me. You excite me. The only warmth I feel is when you are near. I need to know if you have experienced the same. I thought to ask you in the shadows, so I would not have to observe the abhorrence on your face.”

Oh, double blast.
She placed the mug on the nearby table. After pulling back the covers, she swung around to face him. She would also not lie about this. Here, she would speak the absolute truth. Framing his face with her hands, she kissed him with a soft brush of her lips, moving to his left cheek where the scars resided. With overwhelming tenderness, she kissed all along the striated and taut skin up to his temple. Luke’s breath caught, and he sat stone-still. Then a ragged groan rumbled from his throat.

Glenna sat back. “I feel the same, Luke. In all ways.”

“You humble me. I do not deserve your attention or affection. Will you allow me to stay a while? Perhaps we can talk some more if you are not too tired.”

“Yes. Stay.” Glenna pulled the blankets around her shoulders.

“The conversation may be a trifle one-sided. I know of things. I am aware there are four seasons and what they are, but have no memories of any of them. I noticed today when I looked out the parlor window the leaves have changed color. I know the year since I saw it on a newspaper today in Reed’s study. Eighteen ninety-five. But the date on the paper stated April. But this is autumn. What month? October? November?”

“October the twenty-second,” she replied.

“This morning I smelled the wood smoke from nearby cottages, and your cook baking the apple pie. When did I last have a piece of apple pie besides the one you brought me? I do not know. Do I have a favorite color? A preferred season? Do I ride? Have I favorite foods? It is all a blank slate and frustrating beyond words.” Luke sighed, the sound wistful.

“Shall I tell you my favorite color?” Glenna asked.

Luke nodded in reply.

“Blue. All shades. From the dark hue of a naval uniform to the bright summer sky, I adore them all. My quilt is all shades of blue. I prefer autumn. The cool air, the explosion of color. And I love apples, especially when they are freshly harvested. We bake pies and make apple butter and jelly. I love biting into one, the juicy crispness, the tang.” Glenna laughed softly. “I do not ride well, but can manage the wagon. Besides apples or a well-made cup of tea?” She reached for the mug and took a sip. “I do love a roast beef dinner with roasted potatoes and buttered carrots. And fresh rolls or bread.” She gazed out her window, her thoughts turning a little melancholy. “How I long to live by the sea. The sound of the waves battering against the rocks. To hear gulls squawking overhead and smell the salt air and feel the cool mist against my cheek would be absolute heaven. I have often dreamed of living in a house high on a cliff overlooking a rugged coastline.” She laughed again. “It seems I dream far too much.”

* * * *

Luke could sit and listen to her talk all night long. Glenna was at ease in his presence, speaking freely, sharing morsels of information about herself, and he eagerly ate it up and stored them away for later reflection. Even though he could not offer much in reciprocating converse, since he possessed no memories on which to draw, he did try to interject a small comment or clarifying question. Did he like a roast beef dinner? He had no idea, but he found himself smiling at her pleasant chatter.

While she spoke, he had a glance about her room. It reflected her personality. No overt fripperies or clutter, but a tidy area with enough feminine touches to show a confident young woman spent her private time here. By the large bookcase and near the fire stood a comfortable chair, big enough for Glenna to curl up in and read. The walls were papered with a cream colored background with vertical rows of tiny, yellow roses. From what he could tell in the low lighting, the furniture was sturdy and of good quality, and her vanity held four bottles of scent and a silver brush and comb set. Wincing inwardly, he recalled smashing the mirror that no doubt matched them. Inside a small oval frame was a picture of an older couple; family members he guessed. No doubt her parents.

“There is nothing wrong in dreaming, in longing for things we desire,” Luke said, his voice soft. “Perhaps one day you will live on a cliff overlooking a rugged coast. You will live there with a man who will adore you with every fiber of his being and love you with everything he holds in his heart. I see all this for you, Glenna. It is what you deserve.”

He first discovered the fact he could see things in the dark on his nightly walks. Originally, he thought the reason was the light from the moon, but even indoors he could see clearly. Yet another astonishing discovery about himself. Even in the low lighting, he could make out the rising blush on her cheeks, the flutter of her eyelashes, the slight smile curving about her luscious lips at his words.

“How kind of you to say. It seems I read far too many books and from there my dreams have become far too vivid.” Glenna pointed to a small bookcase in the comer of the room. “Those shelves contain my all-time favorites. Ones I am content to read over and over again.” His gaze slid to the bookcase. On the shelves were books by Charles Dickens, Jane Austen, and other prominent and not-so prominent fiction writers of the last several decades. He could list the titles, remember certain plots, but could not recall when or where he ever read them.

Glenna rose from the bed and hurried toward the bookcase. In the glow of the fireplace, the outline of her fine figure showed through the gauze of her nightgown. Arousal rolled through him again, hardening his cock. Perhaps he was a beast. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

After pulling a novel from the shelf, she handed it to him. “
Bleak House
. I know the length is rather daunting, but I believe it is one of Mr. Dickens’s finest works. I adore all the characters and subplots and it is complex and entertaining as well.”

The fingers of his right hand made contact with hers as he reached for the book. He lingered, reveling in the light touch. Again, he experienced comforting warmth. He loathed breaking away, but did so with one last feather-like stroke to the top of her hand. Their gazes met, held, and intense and unnamable emotions rose within him. Finally, Glenna scrambled back under the covers.

Luke stroked the leather-bound book. “
Bleak House.
Things are bleak indeed,” he murmured. More loudly he said, “I seem to recall the plot involved litigation in the Court of Chancery, correct?”

Again, he could make out her smile in the dimness of the room. “Yes. A very long litigation. I have other books here you are welcome to read, or revisit, any time you like.” Glenna stifled a yawn.

He’d kept her awake long enough. Carefully, he got to his feet, making sure he did not place too much pressure on his leg. “Lay down, you need your sleep.”

She obeyed, and he tucked the blue quilt under her chin, then trailed the back of his right hand down the side of her cheek. Such silken softness. As he stepped away and headed toward the door, she called out in a whisper, “Kiss me good night, Luke?” She could tempt the devil himself. In a few steps, he stood beside her bed. “And not a polite peck on the forehead,” she teased.

Well.
Luke sat on the side of the bed, placing the book next to him. Leaning in, he braced his hands on either side of her head, leaned down, and kissed her deeply and thoroughly. Curving her hand behind his nape, she sat up slightly and kissed him back. It was a searing kiss from a passionate woman. How did he know this? It did not matter. Nothing mattered except the sparks flying between them. He was well aware what happened between a man and a woman and knew exactly what to do, but remained fearful he could become carried away and forget his own strength. He wanted her that much. Besides, what made him think she would allow any advances beyond a kiss? He certainly caressed her curves in the parlor, even cupped her shapely buttocks and crushed her against the hardness of him. Perhaps she would allow him to do that again, and soon.

Tucking the book under his arm, Luke left the room without another word. As he headed downstairs to the kitchen, he exhaled, trying to gain control of his heated, lascivious thoughts. After laying the book on a nearby counter, he opened the back servants’ entrance and stepped out into the darkness.

The slow chirp of crickets filled the air. This sound would disappear after a few hard frosts. It couldn’t be too cool outside if they still sang in the trees. A dog howled mournfully in the distance. The stars were plentiful tonight. He picked up a long tree limb to use as a walking stick and decided he would stroll for however long his leg could take the punishment.

The few fallen leaves crunched under his boots. While walking, he mentally listed what he knew of himself. The most puzzling and recent development was he healed far more quickly than a mortal human. Each day his strength increased. Last night he lifted the large generator above his head with his gloved left hand, needing neither effort nor a helping balance from his right.

There was also the disturbing fact he did not require as much food or sleep as others in the house. Hunger and fatigue were not things he experienced much since his awakening. Then there was the fact his emotions were heightened. Alarmingly, he was constantly aware of his ever-present libido. Could it be because of Glenna or would any woman elicit such a passionate and fevered reaction?

As each day passed, his senses became more acute. His sense of smell, his hearing, his eyesight, all improved readily and could well continue to do so. As soon as he collected all the answers he needed, he would find a remote place in which to hide himself away and live out the remainder of his days in quiet solitude. Though he may grow lonely, he could keep himself occupied. Reading, music. Maybe writing. Did he paint? He could learn.

Though alive, he was not in the strictest sense of the word “human.” He was something…beyond.

Luke lay on the sofa the following night, alternating between reading and dozing off. Surprisingly, he began to dream, his first one since finding himself in this strange situation. In the dream, he was not observing, but participating. His eyelids fluttered shut as he walked through a heavy mist and entered a room. The mist dissipated enough he could make out the interior.

Everything was in various shades of burgundy and gold, from the walls, curtains, upholstery and rugs. The décor was garish, but lush and sensual. Sounds of laughter and groaning reached his hearing. He raised his hand and pushed on the door, and took notice his skin was flesh-colored, the pale shade of a person with Anglo-Saxon blood, and he wore a ring on his left pinkie finger. But he did not examine it. Instead all manner of sights and sounds distracted him. As he stepped across the threshold, the scent of beeswax invaded his nostrils from the many candles burning in the gold candelabras circling the perimeter of the room. Writhing on the floor were many couples of both genders in various states of foreplay and copulation. He hardened at the sight. His shaft throbbed with painful lust. Flesh as far as the eye could see. The erotic spectacle caused beads of perspiration to break out at his temples. For this vision was one familiar to him.

A naked woman with fiery red hair bounded toward him, her breasts jiggling enticingly. “My lord, we’ve have been waiting for you.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward a pile of red and gold cushions at the corner of the room. “How naughty of you to tarry.” Two other naked women stood nearby, one with black hair and another with dark brown. All of them were heavily made up, elaborate paste jewels dangling from their necks.