Page 31 of The Taking of House Westwood

“He has that effect on some, Mistress.” Arnaud inclined his head.

“She agreed to accompany us on the trip in the fall. I can’t wait.” The Lady’s finger nosed into the anus and Tani jerked, her hips twisting. “Mm, very tight.”

Sophie gulped, wanting to look away, but her eyes refused to budge from the sight before her.

“Ah, ah! Oh!” Tani panted.

“There girl, push back now. That’s it.” The Lady looked up at Escott. “Never use her here, do you?”

Escott shook his head, his eyes glued to the finger slowly disappearing into Tani.

“No, no, don’t tighten, dove. Bear down.” The Lady’s other hand moved between Tani’s thighs, rubbing the woman’s clit in slow circles. “There we are! Good girl, just let me in now.”

When the Lady’s finger was fully bedded, all the way to the last knuckle, she began a slow twisting.

“Very tight here, Escott. I haven’t the faintest idea why you don’t avail yourself of this luscious ass, but you should at least start using the saddle strap.”

Escott smiled, his eyes sparkling. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Arnaud, you should loan him that nice one with the good stout plug built in.” The Lady craned her head from around a curved hip, her finger still moving within the writhing Tani. “Hop down and give me a hand here, Arnaud. I think we should give Escott some pointers for his next stable block visit with this lass.”

The instant Arnaud’s feet hit the ground, Sophie dashed for the Lady’s horse, careful to avoid treading on the rope. She heard a surprised sound from the Lady, and a curse from Arnaud. Reaching the horse, for a moment she considered trying to hop up in the saddle. She thought better of it, knowing she’d be caught before she even made it up, and instead uncoiled the slack length from the pommel.

She could feel Arnaud close, so she dashed away through the plowed dirt, stumbling in the furrows. She knew the field would help neutralize some of Arnaud’s speed advantage, but not if she went sprawling in the dirt herself.

Chancing a glance behind her, she saw the Lady mount her steed, and Arnaud, for some reason, appeared to have abandoned the chase. Escott, his jaw dropped in surprise, had an arm around Tani’s waist, the woman looking back over her shoulder.

Sophie considered whether to make for the nearest track then back to the road, but decided against it knowing she’d be run down within minutes. She heard the tramp of hooves behind her, but oddly they didn’t seem to be getting closer. She looked back once more, cursing the awkward gait her bound hands forced her into.

Lady Westwood, sitting high in her saddle, was indeed riding after Sophie. Her lips were a thin line, her eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. But rather than taking after Sophie at a gallop, she seemed to be simply walking the horse, unhurried. Even though she staggered through the uneven ground of the thick, plowed soil, Sophie was actually increasing the distance from her pursuer. The long rope dragged behind her as she fled, slowing her down, so she tried gathering it up as she ran.

She scanned wildly around, hoping to find something, some way out. All around her was more farmland, as far as she could see. She saw the occasional figure in the distance, working the land, but knew she’d find no succor with any of them. They’d likely turn her over to the Lady, seeking to curry favor with her. A look behind her showed the Lady still riding after her, in no hurry whatsoever. Sophie, already starting to tire, realized what the Lady already knew: the chase could have only one end.

Still Sophie ran; she had no choice. She’d never go willingly back to that monstrous Lady. Maybe she’d run until her heart burst, and the hell of her captivity would end, her soul free to find her Owen in the next life. But whatever happened, she’d be damned if she was going to cooperate with the “Lady” anymore. She’d never be reduced to a dumb animal as poor Tani had so obviously been.

Glancing behind her again, her heart dropped. The Lady had sped up to a trot and was steadily drawing closer. Worse, the cruel Lady held something up with her hand, a short length of chain with cuffs at each end. Still Sophie ran, cutting across dirt tracks, through soft grooves of furrowed earth, and across fallow fields of cracked, hard soil. Bits of rock were in her shoes, galling the soles of her feet, and the sun beat down upon her pitilessly.

She heard the clop of hooves growing louder, and looked over her shoulder. Arnaud, his horse at full gallop and kicking up great gouts of dust, passed by the Lady. The overseer was high in his saddle, rage in his eyes.

Sophie darted to her right, hoping to use a length of dilapidated sun-bleached fence as an obstacle to the horse. But Arnaud closed the distance before she even reached the fence, the shoulder of the horse barreling into her back with bone-crunching force. She sprawled, bouncing and rolling in the dirt. She rolled over onto her back, wheezing. It felt as if the very breath had been sucked from her lungs, and she felt paralyzed with the effort it took to breathe.

Arnaud was off his horse and crouching by her within moments.

“Can’t … breathe,” Sophie choked out. Her heels dug into the dirt, her whole body tense.

“Knocked the wind out of you did it, bad girl?” Arnaud turned her over, her face pressing into the dirt. “You’ve worse to look forward to Sophie, don’t doubt it. How could you be so stupid?”

The Lady finally reached them, her white steed snorting around his bit. The Lady slipped out of her saddle.

“Here, Arnaud.” The Lady threw the length of chain to the overseer. “Put her in these. Should cure our little runner of her need to explore.”

Sophie’s breath was slowly returning to her, and she coughed, trying to blow some of the dirt from her face. Her lungs ached, and her heart hammered in her chest. She tried to raise herself up, but Arnaud pressed a heavy hand to her back, pushing her back to the ground.

He unbound her wrists, but only for a moment, for he then brought her legs up and tied her ankles together. Then he bound both of her wrists to her struggling feet. She’d seen calves and hogs immobilized in the same way.

“Bastard,” she snarled, spit flying from her lips. “Stop! I don’t deserve this!”

She didn’t care if her struggling got her in worse trouble; she was going to resist, no matter what happened. Maybe if she proved too difficult the Lady would tire of her and send her back to her father. She knew it was a foolish dream, but it was all she had. She had to maintain a glimmer of hope somehow, else she’d fall prey to despair.

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