Page 22 of Her Dark Seduction
Edith resumed sobbing and Celia spoke more kindly, her voice laced with false charm. She had used the same charm on Sawford the night she took me to the solar. For that night at least, her attempt at seduction had failed.
“Edith, Sawford will never kiss any of his women on the mouth, and he refuses to let them kiss him. You should not have tried.”
“Aye, he’s said that, but…”
“But you thought you could be the one to change him? Little fool! ’Tis too personal an act with him. Enjoy the pleasure he gives you between your thighs, and expect nothing else.”
Edith continued to sob and though Celia shushed her comfortingly, I detected exasperation in her voice along with a sense of triumph. Eventually sniffs replaced the sobs.
“For the love of God, Edith, stop that. Here.”
Edith blew her nose, and her voice lowered to a murmur.
“He is an—energetic—man,” Celia said. “A comely wench such as yourself will not be banished from his bed for long.”
“But he said never…”
“Shush, fool! With your pretty face he’ll soon relent and spread your legs again. Then, between us, we will banish all thoughts he has for that witch.”
I almost smiled to myself. The jealousy in Celia’s voice belied the manner in which she reassured Edith about Sawford’s interest in her. However, my smile faded at her next words and a cold fist punched through my chest, squeezing my heart with icy fingers.
“Sawford’s interest in her will wane. Mortlock will use her adultery to dispose of her soon enough, but we need not let him know ’tis Sawford who is rutting his wife.”
I sank to the ground, my legs crumpling under me.
Edith’s sobs turned into a wail. A sharp crack resounded followed by a shriek of pain.
“Be quiet, you fool, or I’ll strike you again,” Celia hissed. “Sawford is too clever to arouse suspicion. Another man will take the fall for her adultery and find his head on a pike.”
The voices faded, but I waited to ensure they had gone. My hands shook as I brushed the dust off my overgown. I could not help but run a finger across my lips. Sawford had kissed my lips both savagely and tenderly. Under a torrent of passion, I had kissed him back.
’Tis too personal an act with him.
A hand tapped my shoulder.
“Lady?”
I jumped in fright, letting out a small cry.
“Percy!”
“Forgive me, my lady. Are you well?”
I nodded, regaining some of my composure.
“Aye, Percy, but what are you doing here, at the back of the stables?”
“I…I heard something.” His nervousness and lack of assurance reminded me how young he was.
“Did you follow me, Percy?”
He shook his head, but the fear in his soft eyes told a different story. My own gaze flicked instinctively to the stone in the wall where my note was hidden, and I smoothed my expression into a smile, holding out my hand.
“Come, Percy, I am a little unwell and would have you escort me to my chamber.”
He colored and helped me to my feet. Crossing the stable yard, I saw Edith and Celia standing beside the door to the kitchen. They were deep in conversation, their backs to us. At that moment, Sawford emerged from the building, walking toward the stables. He stiffened and stopped, narrowing his eyes. He looked at me so intensely that I gripped Percy’s arm, in need of support.
Celia called his name, lowering her voice to a drawl. I raised my eyebrows at Sawford. He mirrored my gesture, a faint smile on his lips, before he turned in her direction.
I continued across the yard with Percy, acutely aware of murmuring voices, one deep and strong, the other sultry and seductive. Though I looked straight ahead as we passed them, I knew Sawford watched us.
