Race stirred, turning slightly to the side as his eyelids flickered open. For a second, he stared at his unfamiliar environment, slightly confused. Then, just as quickly, he remembered the night before. He turned to the his left hand side, his eyes immediately coming to rest on Bianca. She stood in the slightly dark room -the fire in the hearth having gone out- right next to the window where the sun was only beginning to appear in the sky.

She seemed busy, he thought, oddly finding some pleasure in just lying there and watching her. He couldn't see what her hands were busy with, but he wasn't sure he cared. Just then, she pushed her sleeves off, and her nightdress fell to her feet, leaving her body bare.

Race laid, spellbound by her perfect form. It wasn't that he hadn't seen her like this before, but for some reason, his body stirred with desire at the sight of her.

She turned around suddenly, and he froze, afraid she'd notice he was awake. But she didn't. She instead reached up and began loosening the braid she had made the night before.

He laid watching her for several minutes, enjoying the sight of what appeared to him to be her daily routine. When she was done loosening the braid, she made a messy bun. Then, she sat on a chair by the dresser, and reached for a bottle. Scented oil? The scent of wildflowers immediately filled the room. He watched with mounting pleasure as she poured the oil in her hands, and began rubbing it on her body. She finished, and turned slightly to the window where the sky was a lot brighter than when he had first woken up.

She rose to her feet, closed the curtains, and turned to the armoire. It was then Race realized what she was about to do, and with the realisation came the feeling of dread.

He tossed the covers to the side and crawled out of bed. He made his was to the armoire where she stood with her back to him, trying to put on a dress. Reaching out, he placed his hand on her shoulder, just as she was putting her hand into a sleeve.

Startled, she gasped and whirled around, wide eyed.

"Rac-"

Goodness, she is beautiful! He captured her lips, stopping her flow of words.

At first, she stood still in his arms, her pulse racing against his thumb that was pressed to the side of her neck.

He felt her dress fall to the ground. Groaning, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against himself. She sighed, and clutched his waist, her lips parting to welcome his.

He leaned down and picked her up in his arms. Her arms curled around his neck. He carried her across the room, and placed her on the bed. He slipped out of his clothes and pulled her into his arms once more.

***

Bianca's eyelids parted to blinding sun rays. Moaning, she placed her used her elbow to block the sun from her face, and turned to the side; the bed was empty. A frown settled on her face at the realisation, but she decided she would give Race the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he had to be somewhere that morning? Certainly he didn't use her to satisfy his lustful desires, then chose to desert her before she woke up. Certainly he didn't find her presence repulsive, and desired nothing but to escape as soon as he was done with her.

She shook her head and rose to her feet. Ringing for a maid, she waited until she appeared, and then requested a bath.

Bianca sank into the lukewarm water, and let out a soft sigh. The water eased her tensed muscle, but it did nothing to ease the dull pain in her chest. Why did the thought of Race abandoning her, right after they had been together, hurt so much? It was stupid to let it affect her, she thought. She knew from the beginning that he didn't love her, he had made it very clear that he didn't. She knew he would never love her, because he made that very clear as well. So, why did she care that he didn't want to spend his entire morning with her? Why did she care that he snuck into her room the night before, and only agreed to sleep beside her because he sought to use her by the slightest break of dawn?

She emerged from the bath, and wrapped a towel around herself. She sat on a chair, and watched the maid dry her hair, before pulling it to a somewhat complicated braid. The maid helped her into a red dress, and she made her way down the stairs to the dining room for lunch.

She entered the dining room, surprised to find it empty. Settling on a chair, she picked at her lunch. It was only a matter of minutes before she decided she wasn't hungry, and abandoned the plate barely touched.

"Where is my husband?" She asked the butler who stood by the entrance of the dining room, rather than the entrance of whatever room his master was. The butler's presence told her that Race wasn't in the estate.

"Mr. Belington did not say where he was going to."

She clutched her hands before her. "He did not?"

"Yes, My lady. He received a note, and left somewhat in a hurry, with Lady Carla."

Bianca's heart dropped. She should have known Race and her sister would be together. No doubt he left her bedchamber in a hurry so that he could be with her sister.

Anger rushed down her spine, but she managed to keep her emotions under control. She couldn't give in to the desire to break something, or to hitch a horse and go after her philandering husband. She couldn't give in to the burning desire to cry.

She straightened her shoulders and nodded. She turned from the butler and made her way to the library where she settled on the chair, and opened the book she had been reading before her life changed, and she was forced into a loveless marriage. A marriage whose foundation was built on deceit. A marriage where two people sought to use one another to keep themselves warm at night.

And to think she was starting to believe Race was in love with her. To think, as his fingers moved down the length of her body, threatening to drive her mad with excitement, that he felt something, anything for her. She scoffed. She was a fool.

Perhaps she must accept her fate, and at least take solace in her role of bearing his heirs -she told herself when she sat alone in her room that evening, refusing to join Race and her sister for dinner. She had given a flimsy excuse, claiming to have had a headache.

There was a knock on the door. Turning from her image in the mirror, she turned toward the door.

"Enter." She said, tired.

The doorknob moved, and the door gave way to Race. Bianca gasped, shocked to see him. She had expected the knock to have been from a maid.

"Bea," He began, crossing the room quickly to where she sat on the chair. He reached out suddenly and touched her head. "Are you alright?" He searched her eyes.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She snapped, remembering the butler's news of Race spending his entire day with her sister, no doubt in a hotel somewhere.

"I-" He stared, confused. "The maid said you were sick."

Bianca was irritated she felt sorry for snapping at him. He didn't deserve her pity, if anything, what he deserved was a slap on the face! He deserved to be slapped for sleeping with her sister, and standing before her like a saint. Did he really have no shame?!

"I assumed you were... Well, pregnant."

Bianca sprang to her feet then, irritated and angered to the point of nausea. "Pregnant?!" She spat out the word like it was poison. "I only just suffered a miscarriage, Race!"

"And I feared you would suffer another one. I mean I neglected to notice the first tim-" He was saying, straightening.

"Well, I am not pregnant! Perhaps if you would sneak up to my room again tonight and try again, perhaps I shall be found to be with child, seeing as that is all you care about!"

"What? What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Race!" Tears sprang to her eyes and she immediately pushed them back. "You only sleep with me so that you can get me pregnant! So I can give you heirs."

His eyelids widened in shock, and once again, she felt the wave of remorse and pity.

His eyes hardened. "And you? Why did you come up to my bedchamber that evening?"

"To pacify my lust," She lied, folding her arms. "I used you for my selfish desires. It meant nothing to me! You mean nothing to me!"

Hurt flashed in his eyes briefly, but was quickly pushed aside by anger. He reached out suddenly, and took hold of her shoulders, drawing her body forward until she was crashing on his chest.

Bianca didn't struggle, she couldn't struggle as she stared into his angry eyes.

For a second, she thought and hoped he would kiss her, the fierceness in his eyes making her believe he would. But rather than kiss her, his hold on her shoulders tightened.

"I am not your whore, Bea," He spoke through clenched teeth. "I will no longer be used to pacify your... Lust." He spat, releasing her. "You shall stay away from my bedchamber. A marriage in name was what you requested, and it shall be what you shall get."

Bianca watched Race walk out of her room that evening, wanting -yet neglecting- to go after him.