Page 13 of Her Dark Seduction
Harwyn had been right. Something was afoot and my husband was involved. “That devil spawn of Matilda” could only mean King Henry, Wulfric, my husband’s cousin. Were the two cousins plotting treason? Was Papa involved?
I thought of my poor Maman, having to conceal her loyalty to Henry. My love for her would always ensure my loyalties were aligned with hers. My chest constricted with grief for her. I missed her so much. She had taught me to read and write, encouraging my inquisitiveness. She’d also warned me never to reveal my inner thoughts to anyone. As women, our lives were not our own. Our lives belonged to Papa, and if he was revealed to be a traitor to the crown, then by association, so would we.
Papa would regularly hold meetings with his associates who opposed Henry. At one such meeting, shortly after Maman died, I’d hidden myself in the solar at Shoreton. The loss of my beloved Maman had driven my recklessness and my childish belief that I might unearth a plot against King Henry.
Papa spotted me hiding under the bed and gave me a beating in front of his guests. Among them was my husband’s cousin Wulfric, a strikingly handsome man about ten years older than I, who’d watched while I howled and struggled, a smile playing on his lips. At one time, Papa had thought him a suitable match, but he’d married another woman before I reached a marriageable age.
God help me. I was in enough danger merely living in this hideous castle. If my husband were plotting treason, then as his wife, I would also be branded a traitor. I shivered at the thought of Sawford’s eyes on me, watching as I went back inside the building. He was silent and observant, taking note of my reactions to my husband’s careless words.
How might Sawford react if he were aware of my suspicions? I had grown used to Papa’s discipline and could withstand physical beatings. However, Sawford would be an expert in infinitely subtler forms of torture. The air hummed with the power he exuded. I could still feel the thrill my body had felt with his hands on me. There existed a bone-deep need in me which I could not conquer when he was near—the need to surrender myself completely to him. My fear was not of the man himself, but of my body’s reaction to him and what he had the power to make me do. Yet, I was drawn to him. Something dark, nestling at the very core of my being, whispered to me that nothing mattered except him.
Safe in my chamber, I read the anonymous notes again. Did the author know of a conspiracy against the king? Was he as loyal to Henry as I? Perhaps that was why he wrote to me in secret. I dared not speak of this to Harwyn. She would dismiss it as the foolish fancy of a woman desperate for an ally. But that little flash of hope, which began upon first reading that note, continued to grow.
Who was he? The squire Percy seemed so young, but he was the only one, save Harwyn, who gave any sign of friendship. Perhaps he was a spy for a baron loyal to Henry. Or perhaps Baldwin, the knight he served? Surely an opportunity would arise to speak with Percy. Some casual enquiry about his origins and family might bring something to light without arousing suspicion. Now my husband was back, Sawford would be relieved of his task to follow me, and I would have my chance.
****
That evening, a sharp knock on my door made me jump. One of the maidservants stood in the doorway. Not curtseying, she eyed me insolently.
“The master awaits you in the solar, milady.”
I closed my eyes, swallowing the tight knot of fear in my throat. If he was to bed me now, my husband would know I was no longer a maiden.
“Lady?”
Stiffening my body, I opened my eyes, lifted my chin, and glared at her.
“How dare you show such disrespect to your mistress.”
Fixing my stare at her, I waited until she dipped into a curtsey. She lowered her eyes, but not before I caught a flash of hatred.
I swept past her, in the direction of the solar, taking care to nudge her aside with my shoulder. When we arrived, the door was closed. I stood at the threshold, glaring until she curtseyed once more and stepped in front of me to knock. The door swung inward to reveal Sawford, filling the doorway with his tall frame. Almost instantly, her demeanor changed from insolent to inviting. She pushed her shoulders back to reveal her ample bosom and smiled seductively.
“Monsieur Sawford, I had not expected to see you here,” she purred, tipping her face up to kiss him. Pushing her away, Sawford took my arm and pulled me through the doorway. She scowled before turning her smile on him once more.
“Shall I visit you tonight, Monsieur?”
“No.”
He shut the door in her face and led me to the bed where my husband sat waiting.
****
As soon as Sawford returned me to my chamber, I turned my back on him. The door banged shut behind me but another noise made me look around. Sawford had followed me in. It unnerved me at how quietly he could move. He took my shoulders and turned me to face him. He then pushed me back until we reached my bed, where I fell back and lay looking up at him. He leaned over me and held me down by the arms.
“Get out,” I ordered.
“I will leave if you truly wish it,cherie, but I know you want your lover here tonight.”
“You know nothing of love,” I spat.
He released my arms and lifted up my nightshift, his fingers brushing against my thigh.
“You impugn my skills, if you think I cannot have you willingly. There is only pain your first time. Now there will be only pleasure.”
His cold words brought me to my senses. “You flatter yourself, unless you speak of your own pleasure.”
“Nay,cherie. ’Twill not be long before you open your thighs and beg me to take you, as countless others have done.”
