Page 47 of Sinfully Mine
“You were attacked in Horncastle?” Hester stuttered. “When?”
“As if you didn’t know.”
A cow had kicked her once in the stomach, this moment felt very much like that. She was shocked Drew would think she would ever hurt him. And hedidbelieve it. She could see it in the chilling set to his handsome features and the frost in his tone. There was nothing but disdain for her in his eyes.
“I blame myself,” he continued with a snarl. “I thought the thief in Horncastle only after my purse. The assailant outside my study window that night, well, your timely arrival and attempted seduction had me forgetting all about that particular incident, as I’m sure it was meant to.” An ugly laugh came from him. “You tried to convince me I was foxed. Or met up with a random farmhand. One glimpse of your breasts with you nearly crawling into my lap had me forgetting all about it.”
“That isn’t what happened.” Hester shot back, the warmth of the sun hit her skin which did nothing to banish the cold cruelty of Drew’s words. Stubborn pride, the sort that had caused her a lifetime of misery reared its head. “You kissedme, as I recall,” she bit out. “And I hadn’t realized you’d find my worn, patched nightgown so incredibly seductive.”
“Last night’s performance was spectacular,” he ground out. “One would never have thought you had ever taken a man’s cock in your mouth before. Such innocent enthusiasm you displayed all the while planning my demise.”
Hester took a step back, wavering as if she’d been slapped. Pummeled. Stomped upon. She inhaled sharply, smelling the dirt and chickens clinging to her skirts. A cloud above her head took away the light of the sun, or was that Drew’s doing? An egg rolled beneath her foot, crunching as the shell shattered.
“You think that was a performance?”
She did not have a great deal of experience in physical relations. Or at least, she hadn’t until meeting Drew. Hester had given herself over to Drew, trusting him completely. Allowing all sorts of intimate acts because shelovedhim. The words had not been said but—expressed by her in a variety of ways. Last night had been an act of intimacy for the man she loved, and he’d just crudely reduced it to nothing more than something any harlot could provide.
A sob tried to come up her throat, but she forced it down.
As horrible as it was to have Drew accuse her of wanting to commit murder, the knowledge he didn’t really know her at all broke Hester.
“You can’t even defend yourself.” He shook his head. “I hadn’t thought you so devious, Hester, but I should have guessed. You are willing to do anything for this bloody farm.”
She was. This was proof that Blackbird Heath was the only thing she could ever depend on.
Lifting her chin, Hester refused to allow him to see how deeply he’d wounded her. “Tell me, how was I to accomplish this attempt on your life? Was I just lying in wait?”
“Oh, not you, per se. Someone in your employ,” Drew said over his shoulder, as he limped up the steps to the house. “After all, you’ve had your chores to do. Can’t miss gathering up the eggs just to have me murdered. Blackbird Heath must keep running smoothly.”
Hester followed him up the steps and into the house. “You’re dripping blood all over the floor. You’ll ruin the rug.”
He whipped around. “Go back to your bloody chickens and cows. Stop flinging dung about and hoping I’ll step into it. You win, Hester. Blackbird Heath is yours. I’ll be packed and out of here within the hour.”
“You’re leaving?” A deep hole opened up inside her.
“Didn’t you hear me?” he hissed over his shoulder as he made his way slowly up the stairs to the room he hadn’t slept in for weeks. “You win, Hester. Or are you following so that you can finish the job?”
Hester’s jaw tightened. “Your wound. You can’t even seat a horse.”
“Maybe I’ll bleed to death on the way to Horncastle.” He stopped but did not look at her. “Tell me I’m wrong, Hester.”
Hester stared back at him, ignoring the plea she heard in his words. If he was going to believe the worst of her, then so be it. Maybe this was just a way for Drew to rid himself of her. They’d never spoken of the future or if he’d ever return to London. He’d been looking for an excuse to leave her, she realized. Murder was as good as any.
“I refuse to dignify your accusations,” she finally said, wrapping her pride and pain around her like a blanket.
“I thought as much. As I said, you’ve won this wager. I hate the bloody country and everything in it,” he said pointedly.
Which included Hester.
“Go to London then.” She flicked her hand dismissively. “Leave the countryside you so despise. You were only looking for a chance to leave.” A terrible shattering occurred around her heart. “I find you to be overly dramatic. You must have learned how to act from your mother.”
The mention of his mother caused such a torrent of emotions across Drew’s handsome features, Hester almost took the words back.
He pointed to his bleeding thigh. “I tend to become overly dramatic when being shot at by a woman that—I’ve been bedding,” he finished. “You could have just stabbed me in my sleep. I’m not sure why you didn’t.”
“I’d have to feed your body to the pigs,” Hester snapped without thinking. “And I’d never get the blood out of the sheets.”
His nostrils flared, jaw tilted in disdain. “Blackbird Heath is yours, Mrs. Black. It’s the only thing…” he hesitated. “That matters to you at any rate.”
