Chapter 2

Emma opened her eyes. And jumped out of her skin.

The man, (She wasn't sure what she should call him in her head, so she went with the man.) was sitting cross legged on the floor watching her while she slept. He was wearing a different mas today. This one was made of wood and covered from his hair line to the skin under his nose. She could see part of a scar going from under the mas onto the corner of his left lip. Maybe that was what he was hiding. Well, there was no maybe about it. That was undoubtedly what he was hiding

His green eyes were mocking. Well, who wouldn't jump out of their skin when they wake up and a man in a mask was watching them.

"Good morning, Mistress Emma." He said in his velvet sandpaper voice.

She stared at him, not answering the trivial greeting. He gently grasped a fistful of her hair, wild from sleep.

"I said Good morning, Mistress Emma."

"Good morning," He tugged on her hair, "My lord." It irked her to have to call him that, when it was obviously for no reason than to make him feel good.

He smiled..well it was more just a showing of teeth. There was no humor or goodwill behind it. "Your chamber is ready." He told her. "You will follow me." He turned and left the room.

Emma had to run to keep up with him. They went through twisting passages, winding stairways, and dark corridors. Finally, they walked across a wide airy courtyard and through heavy wooden doors. One more turn and they were in his chambers. It made Emma nervous to know that to come and go from her chambers, she would have to enter his.

He walked past a huge plush bed to small doors on the other side of the room.

Her chambers were just a miniature of his. There was a big bed, but it was less grand than his. It was done in blue and there was blue fabric on the walls. There were mahogany in tables and a mahogany wardrobe. It was a lovely room, it really was.

"Your things have been brought up and put in the appropriate places, but feel free to move them if it doesn't suit you." He said from behind her.

"Yes,.." She said absently. She was still taking in the room. She had expected to be locked in a closet, but instead she got this room that was even better than the one she had lived in all her life. But of course, nothing could replace her old room. She grew up in that room.

"I'll leave you now. My housekeeper will be along in a minute to tell you your duties." He turned and left quickly.

Emma sat down on the bed. She ran her hand over the spread covering it.

She jumped off the bed and took a few steps back.

It was silk.

Silk

She'd never touched silk in her life. She was a blacksmith's daughter. When would she ever have cause to touch silk? She'd never even dreamed of using it for anything. Let alone to sleep on.

"Something wrong, dear?" Emma whirled around with her hand pressed to her furiously pumping heart. It was and elderly lady with a powder blue apron and curly white hair fluffed out around her face. There was kindness in her eyes.

"Uh, the bed.."She whispered, "It's...silk."

The housekeeper raised her white eyebrows, "And...?" She inquired nicely.

"It's silk."

"Most of the fabric in this house is silk."

Emma's jaw dropped. She grew up in poverty. To be told that a most of the fabric in a castle was silk was shocking. That had to be alot of fabric in a castle of this size. The housekeeper chuckled kindly. "You'll get used to it dear." She stepped closer to Emma and laid her hands on her shoulders. "My name is Gwen. It's short for Guenevere. And you're Emma."

"Yes." She paused, "I don't have to call you madam or anything do I?"

Gwen let loose with rolling laughter that had her white hair bouncing around her face. It was really contagious and had Emma almost smiling.

When Gwen finally stopped laughing, her face turned serious. "Burke, he's really not a bad man at all." So that was his name. Hmm. "He's had a hard life. I've known him since he was just a little thing. Now, I wont tell you details, but his mother died giving birth to him and his father hated him for it. That man always tried to make life bad for Burke. I know you shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but than man was as bad as they come."

"He whipped me."

Regret flashed in the housekeeper's eyes. "Now I'm truly sorry for that, dear. He's got it in his head that he has to treat women badly or they'll never respect him. It's really his father's fault. Lord, how i couldn't stand that man." She wiped her hands on her apron and twisted it in her fingers. "Now let's talk of more important matters. You're dresses are hung in the wardrobe, and your undergarments..."

Emma tuned it out. Not intentionally. That would be rude. But she suddenly had so much on her mind, and she had to think.

To make things make more sense she made a list in her head.

1. His name was Burke.

2. His father hated him.

3. He believes that if he doesn't hurt women, he wont get respect.

4. He was going to keep whipping her. Unless she could somehow show hi he didn't need to.

Without bending to his will of course.