Left At The Crooked Pine

Bianca's eyes shot open and she made a very unladylike spluttering noise of both outrage and shock. Four pairs of intent eyes turned to stare at her. Yates discretely left the room to leave the decidedly insane Ton to their business. Frank spoke first, Bianca having seemed to have lost the ability to do so and Mitchell waited patiently for a reply.

“That’s a perfectly sound idea Connaught but I don’t think it is your decision.” Frank’s normally warm voice was slightly chill. He did not like this idea at all; the man was completely dishonest, how would he make a good husband? “Jon?”

“Never in a million years would I let a man like him marry my sister!”

“Jon, see reason,” Ellis interjected calmly; “It’s the perfectly logical and socially acceptable solution to the problem. Besides I think it will be a marriage for better not worse.”

“Are you serious? Have you seen the man you want to marry Bianca too, he’s a disfigured rogue she could never be happy with him!” Jonnie had started to shout, shoving himself up out of his chair so he could stalk around the room. Bianca's head was spinning, she couldn’t take this any more.

“Enough!” she cried, “This is my life. Why can’t you let me decide if I would be happy or not, if my reputation is at stake or not!” Bianca felt tears well up and start to roll down her flushed cheeks. She was tired, confused and frustrated. All she wanted was a good nights rest and some comfort, someone to tell her everything would be alright. This should be when the fairytale ending happens, her and Mitchell would fall in love and get married and ride off happily into the sunset to their cosy, quaint cottage. But happy endings don’t happen in real life she reminded herself, people die and leave you, happiness can be snatched away in the blink of a highway robbery. And she had just been beginning to think she had found her place in life, her little piece of happiness, an obscure place but a place none the less.

“Hush flower,” someone whispered in her ear, wrapping warm solid arms around her pulling her into a hug. Mitchell stroked Bianca's hair comfortingly, glaring over her head at her brother who stood staring at them agape.

“Can’t you see she is tired and upset.” He said in a soft, harsh voice that cut through the silence. “The sun is setting and it’s a long and dangerous journey back to Lucas House,” Mitchell gave a cheeky grin which looked more menacing than fun with his stark white scar along his jaw, “although there is one less danger on the road tonight I suppose. You can all stay here tonight. I’m taking Bianca up to bed.” He scooped a weeping Bianca up into his arms and walked out the door. The three shocked men stared after them before leaping to action and storming after them. But they had disappeared. Jonnie swore loudly and profusely, Frank scowled and Ellis looked amused.

“What do you find so funny Dexter?” Jon snapped.

“Neither of you see it do you? God, both of you are the soppiest men alive when you are with your wives, but you don’t see it! Cam would have seen it if Portia wasn’t confined for the first time and he hadn’t turned into a panicking idiot.”

“What are you babbling on about Dexter this is not amusing.”
Frank pondered Ellis’s convoluted explanation and then gained an enlightened expression.

“Really?” he asked Ellis. Ellis nodded.

“It’s so obvious.”

“Perfect!”

“What is perfect about this? There is nothing good about this!” Jon complained confused and irate.

“You’ll figure it out soon enough.” Both men said walking away to an awaiting Yates who wanted to show them to their rooms.

“But what about Bianca?” he continued to grumble.

“She’ll be fine besides what other harm can come to her in one more night?” they tried to placate him. “Leave them be. Beside with Connaught’s supposed past he’ll be able to protect her fine.”

“But he is the danger!” Frank and Ellis laughed and headed up the stairs, ignoring their friend’s protests.

~

Mitchell paused outside of his door and shifted Bianca's body carefully, trying not to wake her. A small groan couldn’t be repressed as his ribs protested the extra weight and she stirred sleepily in his arms at the noise.

“What’s wrong? Where are we?” she woke up slightly and tried to get out of his embrace.

“Hush flower, you’re fine where you are its just an old wound playing up, recent activities aggravated it again.” He managed to push the door open finally and they entered the large room.

“Is it me? Put me down before I make it worse!” she struggled in his arms more.

“Stop wriggling that will make it worse!” he admonished and she stilled abruptly. “Actually it is your brother’s fault he landed a few choice blows on me while you were down in the hide. One hit a place where I broke some ribs not long healed. Now you can be put down.” Mitchell placed her down on the bed gently and then walked away to sit by the fireplace. Bianca struggled up into a sitting position and watched him, her eyes still red and itchy from her tears earlier. Sleep had been welcome and extremely comforting in Mitchell's arms and she wished she could fall back into it but she needed some answers.

“Were you serious about marrying me?” she asked hesitantly, pulling the downy quilt around her for the illusion of comfort and warmth.

“Completely, although this should clinch the deal.” He told her softly and completely seriously.

“Your brother will hardly be happy about you being in my room, alone with me and I have no wish for you to lose your virtue for the sake of pride. Marry me Bianca.” Mitchell was lying through his teeth. He had every wish to take her virtue but not just in reputation but bodily too. He would marry her no matter what. Staring at her intently Mitchell noted how pale, vulnerable and small she looked wrapped in his dark green bed sheets. He wanted to go to her so badly, to take her into his arms so she forgot all her worries. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t, until she had given him an answer.

“Yes.” She whispered her red rimmed eyes wide as if she couldn’t believe she’d just said it.

“Are you sure?” he asked slowly, although every muscle in his body was urging him to go to her and kiss her senseless.

“Yes,” she said again louder and slightly more confidently. His control snapped. He covered the room in a few large strides and pulled Bianca into his arms. She let out a startled gasp and then his hot mouth covered hers, silencing her. He pressed little kisses to the corners of her lips, letting her get use to the unfamiliar feeling. Bianca's startled eyes fluttered closed. It felt like she was being consumed by fire, set alight by Mitchell's “hot” look. It felt… good she decided. Relaxing, warm, comforting, safe. Mitchell pulled her closer wrapping her in his arms, smiling against her lips as she relaxed into him, her small hands clenched tight in his shirt as if she was afraid to let go. Then he felt her soft, supple lips quiver under his and tasted salt on them. He pulled his head away and scooped her into his lap, sitting on the edge of the bed. He hugged her tightly to him.

“What’s wrong flower? Why are you crying? Did you not like it? Did I hurt you some how?”

“No, no.” she reassured him shakily, “they are happy tears… I think. You just, you just make me feel safe.”

“Good.” He smiled down at her and kissed the tip of her nose. “That’s how you should feel with me. I promise to always keep you safe.”

She gave him a watery smile and tucked her head in the crook of his neck. She was safe and secure, she told herself, and she gradually started to drift of to sleep in comfort.

“Flower, no don’t fall asleep just yet you’re still dressed it won’t be very comfortable. Come on let me help you.”

Mitchell smiled at his sleepy woman drifting off in his arms and shifted her so she sat upright between his legs on the edge of the bed. Her head lolled to one side and she groaned sleepily in protest of him moving her. It was the sexiest sound Mitchell had ever heard. He started to slip the tiny pearl buttons undone along the back of her dress, following the line of her spine. Mitchell pressed light kisses to her revealed neck and shoulders as he slid the dress off her shoulders. Bianca shivered at the sensation and the feel of the cold air on her heated skin. He stopped all too quickly when she was stripped down to her chemise. She wanted to ask him to kiss her again, but she was too tired and lethargic to bring herself to talk. He shifted from behind her and pulled the covers of the bed to the side so he could slide her under them. He watched her blonde curls tumble around her sleepy face for a moment and then slipped her small, delicate feet out of her shoes. He covered all of her over so she would stay warm and he wouldn’t be tempted. Moving back over to the fire place he lifted up the armchair and placed it at the bedside. Mitchell simply sat and watched her sleep for a while, content to just be with her. She had agreed to marry him. It was hard for him to believe but he was glad she had agreed willingly; he could protect her no other way from the dangers he had placed her in. He sighed and Bianca shifted restlessly on the bed.

“Mitchell!” she cried out breathlessly and he sprang to his feet to help her but she was still asleep. He stared at her concerned not sure what to do, when she spoke again.

“Where are you? Let me out please! Mitchell!”

Realisation hit him; she was having nightmares about the damned hidey hole. He shouldn’t have put her in there. It was his fault she was frightened.

“Hush flower, it’s just a dream.” He told her softly, stroking her hair back from her pale face.

She whimpered and reached out for him instinctively. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed he held on to her hand pulling his boots off with the other. Mitchell lay down next to her on top of the covers still fully clothed but able to curve his body around hers pulling her protectively close. She stilled in his arms, relaxing against him only a few stifled sobs escaping now and again.

“Hush flower I’m here, you’re safe now. It’s alright we are safe. You will always be safe.” He whispered against her hair. Her crying stopped and he hoped to hell that what he was saying would prove to be true. He let sleep over take him but he didn’t relax; his jaw clenched tight in concern for her wellbeing, his scar white and stark against his tanned skin. He had to keep her safe; no matter what.