Page 178 of Historical Hotties
Her hand tightened around Creed’s arm as they entered the keep. He squeezed her hand before disengaging it and helping her to mount the narrow stairs. Their eyes met on the way up and she smiled bashfully, full of hope and anticipation and a little apprehension. His response was to wink confidently at her.
They faded up the steps into the darkness.
*
Jory had beenwatching Julia since he had entered the chapel for Creed’s marriage. He knew how the girl felt about Creed; they all did. She had never made it any secret. The event of Creed’s wedding had clearly shattered her and Jory watched her for the duration of the ceremony, feeling sparks of wicked thoughts smatter through his brain. Ideas were coming to him fast and furious these days, thoughts that a normal man would have never entertained. But Jory was not normal. In fact, the past few days had seen that trait grow even darker.
When he was not watching Julia, he was watching Carington’s backside. She had the most delectable body he had ever seen. Everyone had noticed. And the new gowns she was parading around in did nothing to stifle his twisted imagination. Even now, she stood next to Creed in a surcoat of blue brocade which only emphasized the curves of her figure. Jory began to imagine the wedding bed and how Creed would be touching and tasting her tender flesh. He would be slipping his fingers and tongue into intimate places, finally ramming his great manhood into her virginal sheath. It took Jory a moment to realize that he was engorged and he returned his attention to Julia so that his arousal would go down. Plain, unattractive Julia would serve to calm him. She would also help him.
When the wedding was over and Julia slipped out before congratulating the happy couple, Jory followed. He caught up to her when she was nearly to the inner bailey.
“Lady Julia,” he called after her. “Wait a moment.”
Julia came to a halt, quickly wiping at her eyes as she turned to him. Jory’s dark gaze fell upon her tear stained face and he smiled thinly.
“I am sorry that it was not you standing next to Creed,” he made an attempt at sounding sympathetic. “Creed will never know what he has given up.”
Julia was struggling to compose herself as she looked up at him. “What is it you want?”
Jory lifted an eyebrow. “Want?” he shrugged, looking about the yard. “I only want to help you.”
“Help me with what?”
He looked at her, then. “Punish Creed, of course.”
She eyed him suspiciously. Then she began to walk away. Jory caught up to her and took pace beside her.
“He has spurned you, Julia,” he said grimly. “And that Scot… what right does she have to marry him? She only met him four days ago. You have known him longer. Certainly you should have been the one to win his heart.”
Julia shook her head. “Go away, Jory.”
He did not do as she asked. He continued. “By all rights, that woman is a hostage, yet Creed and the others have treated her as if she is royalty,” he insisted. “See how they fawn over her? ’Tis not right, I tell you. And what of you? They ignore you. They place this Scots bitch over you. How does that make you feel? How does it make you feel to know that it will not be you that Creed makes love to tonight?”
With a frustrated growl, she came to a halt and faced him. “Enough,” she hissed. “I do not need your help or your pity. Go away and leave me alone.”
He grabbed her so that she could not walk away. “Listen to me,” he said. “I will help you exact vengeance on Creed and his wife.”
She looked up at him, struggling to pull away. “What in the world are you talking about?”
His grip tightened. “I speak of a reckoning. Creed has wronged you. His bitch of a wife does not deserve him. Let me help you punish him.”
Julia gazed up into his evil, dark eyes and, for a split second, realized she was considering his offer. She was devastated thatCreed had married the Scots hostage. But something deep inside her, one last shred of common sense, held her back.
“Why would you offer to do this?” she hissed. “What has Creed done to you that you would be so willing to be the instrument through which my satisfaction is obtained?”
He let go of her, his brown eyes boring holes with their intensity. “My vendetta against Creed has already begun,” he said in a low voice. “For every time he has threatened me, for every time his henchman, Burle, has beaten me, and for every vicious word that has ever come out of his mouth directed at me, I can no longer remain still. I will have my vengeance and then some.”
Julia did not like the way he was looking at her; it was terrifying. Instinctively, she took a step back. “What do you mean it has already begun?”
A hint of a thin, wicked smile came to his lips. “It started yesterday. He will pay.”
“I do not understand.”
He just stared at her in a way that made her skin crawl. “The blow that killed his brother did not come from a Scots,” he muttered. “It was a Scots morning star, that is true, but I picked it up from the ground where it had fallen. Ryton never saw me come up from behind and smash it into his skull.”
Julia’s jaw dropped in horror. “You killed Ryton?”
Jory’s eyes narrowed. “For every insult, every beating, every offense,” he repeated, almost sing-song. “That was just the beginning.”
