Chapter 11

Bianca stirred sleepily, burrowing her head against her warm, firm and extremely comfy pillow. She did not want to wake yet; sleep was safe and comforting.

"Good morning wife," came a low husky growl against her hair. Bianca started at the noise and rolled away from the very near sound. Mitchell quickly snaked an arm around her waist holding her in place. What was with his new wife and trying to fall off the bed?

"Please let me go," Bianca asked finding her voice.

"No." Mitchell replied firmly, his deep voice reverberating through Bianca's body making her tremble in his arms. He felt the instinctive response she had made and sighed. He was making her nervous and that was not what he wanted. He wanted the normal, feisty, curious Bianca back. He explained his negative reply slowly and gently.

"If I let you go you would simply roll off the bed; it's not very wide."

"But your bed is very big and it is not seemly for me to be in this position with you." She'd found herself in a similar position to the last time they had slept together, sprawled on top of him and was anxious to get away. She blushed and kept her gaze locked on his chin unable to meet his eyes.

"We aren't at the Manor Bianca."

"We're not?" she looked up then, surprised, forgetting her nerves and banging his chin with the top of her head in the process. Mitchell grimaced at the short sharp burst of pain but did not complain. He simply watched his new wife instead. Her reaction was as he'd wished; happy, relaxed and excepting. They lay on the narrow single bed in his small cottage, completely alone on a silent, sunny autumn day. She stopped trying to pull away. "How long are we staying here?"

"Just another week," Mitchell told her matter of factly.

"Oh," Bianca tried not to feel disappointed. She liked it at the cottage but she now knew that Mitchell's, and her's too now, rightful place was at Strathearn Manor. She rested her head back down on Mitchell's chest feeling thoughtful. He did not say anything just let her think. Absent mindedly she began to rub her cheek against him, enjoying the feel of hot skin and sparse crisp hair against her face. She brought a hand up to toy with the short curly hair and jumped when Mitchell let out such a loud hiss of air it blew her loose hair into her eyes. Then she realised what she was doing and pulled her hand away. Mitchell was relieved; she was torturing him without even realising it. Bianca was observing their nearly undressed state fearfully. She'd felt so relaxed with him it had taken her a while to realise it, but she wore nothing but her near see through chemise and he only britches, undone at the waist. She paled when she noticed this. Mitchell sat up then, leaning back against the wall for back support and settled Bianca next to him. Something was bothering his new wife and he did not like the change it had made in her personality.

"What's wrong flower?" he asked calmly, he did not want her to be nervous around him or unwilling to tell him her problems.

"Did we…" she railed off, blushing and giving a reflexive, nervous cough before trying again. "Did we consu…" she couldn't bring herself to ask. She did not think they had, but she needed to know for certain. Mitchell took pity on his blushing bride, knowing all to well what she was trying to ask.

"Did we consummate the marriage last night? Is that what you are trying to ask?" He did not mean to sound patronising but Bianca could not help but take offense at they way he had put the question. She wacked him in the chest, blushing and nodding at the same time. Although some of her colour was from outrage that he thought her so very innocent. He chuckled and shook his head. "No we did not, you were too sound asleep and I did not have the heart to wake you. And I could not do it to you while you slept, you would have woken."

"Then when?" Bianca asked feeling a measure of relief. Mitchell shrugged and Bianca scowled, looking rather like Jon. The odious man, did he not think this was a serious matter?

"I do not know when," Mitchell told her calmly. "Don't frown at me so wife; you are the reason I do not know."

"Me!" Bianca spluttered, her outrage growing hotter.

"Yes you. I will not force you to do any thing against your will, including consummate this marriage."

Bianca stared at him in surprise. That was his reasoning? She did not know why she was so surprised. She knew that Mitchell was a good man and he'd never forced himself on her before. But this was necessary, she thought, to make their marriage real. Perhaps he didn't want her? Didn't want their marriage to be a proper one? She felt unusually angry at the idea that he had made her feel obligated to marry him when he did not want to marry her at all.

"We have some other things to talk about too. Something I need to explain to you." Mitchell said quietly, seriously, unwillingly. This was not going to be an easy conversation. She was already angry at him, he could tell although he did not understand why, and after this she would hate him more. He was aware of her watching him and let his worry and concern show. That got her full attention and she discarded her anger for the moment, moving away from him so she could sit facing him crossed legged at one end of the bed. Resolutely he ignored the view of long legs and creamy white inner thigh she unintentionally gave him and focused on her face determined to look her in the eyes for all of his confessions. He took a deep breath and began.

"We are in danger." She looked around her startled.

"From who, where?" she questioned confused. Perhaps that had not been the best start Mitchell reconsidered the angle to explain this from.

"I am not really a highway man." He tried again. She gave him a brief smile, almost humorous.

"Oh I know that." It was Mitchell's turn to look startled. She did? Bianca continued. "It just didn't make sense; thrills are not worth being hung for when you are a Duke. You have some other motive more compelling but I do not know what. And I have resigned myself to never knowing. I am just a woman why should I know?"

Mitchell did not comment on her complaint about the treatment of women simply continued his explanation.

"I was a commander in the army, you know that right?" she nodded, intrigued by this new avenue the conversation was taking. "I am still retired like I said, but I also serve in another role for our king, an unusual one. It is my duty to draw out seasoned criminals the law can not catch. I set up a rival criminal activity, usually to entice the real criminals into either action against me or making a mistake by trying to out do me." He paused expecting her to have some questions for him but she did not say anything but remained deep in thought waiting for him to continue. "That is how I met you, while I was 'working' and that, I know you were curious about this I could see it in your sea green eyes, was what the letter I showed your brother and friends was about. It explained my purpose and gave me exemption from the law by my superior."

Finally she knew, Bianca thought with relief and an amount of surprise at his mention of her eyes. She gave him a smile.

"Thank you for explaining to me husband, there should be no secrets between a married couple, my parents taught me that."

She looked so grateful and relaxed, becoming her former self again, that Mitchell found he had to look away from her brilliant smile, guilt weighing down his heart. Her anger had gone now completely and he did not want it to return when he told her his other news. He did not like it when she was angry with him, did not like it at all. He was so lost in his negative thoughts; Mitchell did not notice Bianca studying him. Something was still worrying him; she could tell.

"What is it?" she asked him softly, wanting to know but not wanting to push him too far when their morning was going quite well so far.

"You won't like this." He told her after a moment of hesitation, firming himself against how she would react. Putting on his mask, making his face blank, hard and unemotional; his voice became monotone too as he made himself continue. "I received another letter yesterday morning and it contained some interesting news. We have to have a baby." There he had said it. Bianca stared at him. That didn't make any sense at all. Why would they have to have a baby?

"It was apparently part of the old Duke's will. If we don't we lose a thousand pounds each year until we do. But we won't have one. I won't have one. Not with you, not…" he didn't get a chance to finish his damning sentence. Bianca leapt from the bed tears sparkling in her eyes. She grabbed Mitchell's great coat from the back of the armchair and slipped her shoes on running out of the cottage, leaving Mitchell staring after her.

The tears rolled down her cheeks freely now as Bianca let her humiliation, anger and sorrow out. She had been right when he had told her she could chose when to consummate the marriage, he did not want her in that way. He properly hated her, he must do to not want a child with her, to be so repulsed by the idea he was willing to lose money because of it. She sank down on to a log, wrapping his coat around her near nakedness, although not really caring about how she looked or physically felt, just letting all of her emotions out loudly and satisfyingly. After ten long minutes of tears, Bianca felt exhausted and drained. She was so grateful Mitchell hadn't followed her; anger took over again and the idea of Mitchell watching her when she was at her weakest, again, made her furious. Why did he always find her at her worst? Or did he just cause her to be at her worst? Yes that was it, everything was his fault! She closed her eyes, her head throbbing and tried to find a calm centre in her mind. It didn't work. She opened her eyes again but it stayed dark and she felt the coarse material of a sack against her face. Panic joined the mayhem of her mind and she scrabbled to remove it. Someone calmly and silently restrained her with ease. That just panicked her more. The unknown assailant forcibly held a sweet smelling cloth over her nose and mouth until the chloroform knocked her out. A single tear rolled down her cheek, soaking into the sack covering her head, before she sank into endless blackness. Maybe Mitchell wasn't so bad after all.