Bride of Lady Blueheart: A Sapphic Retelling of Bluebeard (Wildwood) by Edie Marr

Author:Edie Marr [Marr, Edie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackmarr Books
Published: 2024-04-03T00:00:00+00:00

13

THE HIGH TOWER

Iwake late the next morning. When I dress and come down the stairs, Blueheart calls me into her study. A small room on the ground floor with wood-panelled walls and a wide desk topped with green leather. She had been delighted the day I’d cleaned this room, ridding it of the cobwebs that grew in every corner and polishing all the wood with beeswax until it shone.

“Wife,” she announces. “I need to go away for a few days. I have some business to attend to over the border in Callander. I will be away from you and your sweet cunny for three days. While I am gone you may continue your work cleaning the upper floors of the castle.”

I nod. “Very well, My Lady.”

“You will not leave the castle. You will not attempt to open the front doors or find a way through the walls that surround the grounds. The forest is extremely dangerous, especially at this time of year when the weather is growing colder and the wolves are hungry.”

“Yes. I see.”

“Come closer, wife,” Blueheart says, beckoning to me. I walk around her desk and, as soon as I am in reach, she pulls me onto her wide lap. Her thighs are warm through the leather of her breeches. “Now,” she says, settling me in place. “One more piece of business.”

She rings a bell on her desk and Alton appears in the doorway. “Yes, My Lady?”

“Bring her in please, Alton.”

Alton nods and turns away, returning a moment later with Meg.

Meg is pale-faced and shaking as she looks at Blueheart.

Blueheart returns Meg’s gaze, then idly snaps her fingers.

Meg clutches her throat. She makes a strangled noise, takes a shaky breath then says. “Thank you, My Lady.” Her voice is scratchy and rough like her throat is sore.

“I return your voice because I am dismissing you from my service.”

Meg gasps in horror and drops to her knees on the red and gold rug on the floor. She raises her hands. “My Lady, please I have nowhere to go.”

“What?” I say, over Meg’s begging, “Why? Why would you do such a thing?”

Blueheart looks down at the quivering maid, kneeling on the rug. Then at me, with a sly satisfied smile. This is another lesson, I am sure, another demonstration of her power.

“Don’t, I say. Please, she didn’t do anything. You know she didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Blueheart says, “But I cannot risk my wife’s honour.”

“At least then, let me give her a letter of introduction to Duke Dulcia. She’s a good worker,” I look at Meg. “He’ll take you in if Lady Blueheart vouches for you.”

Blueheart touches my cheek. “My wife is so soft. Very well. I need to call in on the Duke. I will deliver you to him myself.”

Meg curtseys, relief on her face. I understand it. What Blueheart was proposing was a life of destitution. “Thank you, My Lady.”

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