Page 34 of The Taking of House Westwood

Westwood Manor

“Where is she, Miriam?”

The Lady looked up from the couch she reclined upon, her skirts in disarray. A girl knelt between Miriam’s spread legs, and Clayton could see the movement of her head beneath the fabric of Miriam’s skirt.

“So it’s no longer ‘Milady this’ and ‘Your Grace that’, is it Clayton?” Miriam lay her hand on the crown of the head that was busy between her thighs. “Slower dear, we have guests about.”

“Must you do that, while we talk, Miriam?” Clayton pulled the gloves from his hands, flexing the stiffness from his fingers.

“You came to my house, Clayton. I expect you’ll just have to endure my little indulgences, won’t you?”

“My daughter. Where is Sophie?” He took a step toward Miriam.

“She’s safe, Clayton. She’s not been permanently harmed, just as I promised.”

He grimaced. “Is she…”

Miriam laughed, clearly enjoying a father’s discomfort at the topic. “Get right to the point, don’t you? Why don’t you have a seat? I can have Claire here attend to your needs too as soon as she’s done taking care of mine.”

Clayton gave a terse shake of his head. “That’s not why I’m here, Miriam.”

The Lady stilled the head hidden under her skirts. “Her precious maidenhead is intact, Clayton, though I can’t say the same for her virtue. Not that it matters, really.”

He let out a breath.

Thank the Gods.

He just had to get Sophie home; to heal, to recover. To move on. Maybe even Owen could help her, if her father couldn’t be there…

Clayton shook his head slowly, clenching his jaw. “I’m here to propose a deal. A resolution.”

Miriam drummed her painted fingertips on the blue silk covering the girl’s head. “You know, I’ve missed you—”

Clayton held up his hand. “Miriam, stop.”

“Why didn’t it work, Clayton? We were so good together. You should have come to visit before all … this.”

He sat down, his arms resting on his thighs. He didn’t even want to look at her for this. “I offer an exchange, Miriam.”

“What?” Her voice was quiet, but he could feel the calculation, the interest. She was always weighing risks and benefits; determining what she could get — or get away with.

He looked up at her, his gaze meeting her dark brown eyes. “Release her.”

“Why should I? She’s mine, as long as I will it. My right, and you know it. Tell me you rode all the way from McClearn for something other than this?”

“Take me in her stead. I will pledge you my sword, and my… life.” He looked away, a sick weight twisting in his gut. He heard her sharp intake of breath. Finally, he had her off guard. Would it be enough?

“Clayton, look at me.”

He met her gaze, though it was the last thing on Earth he wanted to do.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Steel was back in her tone. “Truly?”

“Aye. I’ll do anything to save her — from you.”

He saw her mouth twitch at that, and he exulted in it for the briefest of moments. He’d hurt her. Ah, how he wanted to hurt her more! She deserved nothing more.

She pushed Claire away, and the girl fled the room, clutching her clothes to her naked breasts. Miriam rose, smoothing the gown down her thighs, and walked to her dresser.

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