Page 24 of Her Dark Seduction
“Do not seek to contradict me, woman,” he said. “I would have you ride with me on the hunt today.”
I understood the necessity of hunting to provide food, but disliked the relish the participants took in the savagery of the hunt. But, I was fond of my horse and would take pleasure in riding her today. I had not ridden her since the first time when Wyatt forced his attentions on me, and I’d been reluctant to ask permission to ride again for fear he would accompany me. Though I kept my knife about me, I did not wish to be placed in a situation where I’d have need of it.
I stroked the mare’s nose, knowing I had no choice but to join my husband.
“Here, madam.” The skin at the back of my neck tightened at the familiar voice. Sawford touched my elbow and guided me to the mare and helped me to mount. His hand was that of a hunter who already had his prey in his grasp and was merely toying with her before the kill.
The hunting party was small—about a dozen of us. Mortlock took the lead with Sawford beside him on a large black stallion, together with another man leading the deerhounds. I was glad to see Percy among the party. He drew alongside me as we crossed the drawbridge which spanned the moat surrounding Mortlock Fort.
“I trust my lady is feeling better?” His face colored as he spoke, and I nodded, giving him a smile.
The hounds picked up the scent of their quarry almost as soon as we entered the forest. Most of the party set off at a gallop, but I followed at a more leisurely pace. Though I would have preferred the solitude, I was grateful to Percy for hanging back while the rest of the party disappeared through the trees. Perhaps now was the time to find out where his loyalties truly lay.
My curiosity rose when he began to speak of the king, but before I could steer the conversation, my horse pulled up, and I lost my balance on the saddle and fell to the ground. For a moment, I lay face up on the forest floor, watching the sunlight dance across the leaves of the trees in the breeze, until a shadow stepped over me and Percy’s concerned face came into view.
He helped me to my feet, blushing furiously as his fingers touched mine, and my heart sank. The poor young man had a crush on me. I doubted he was my secret correspondent. The deep, heartfelt words I had read were not those of a tender-hearted boy. Tarvin would be too aware of the danger to risk such an outward display of affection. However, Percy might still be useful. If he were loyal to the king, he might know Tarvin’s identity.
“You have my thanks, Percy,” I said. “Twice in two days you have shown gallantry.”
He smiled and bowed over my hand, kissing it at the wrist where the flesh was exposed.
“What are you doing with Lady Mortlock?”
The voice behind us was instantly recognizable.
Sawford stood by a tree, his face darkening with anger as he raked his gaze over me, taking in my disheveled appearance and the mud on my gown. Curling his hands into fists, his body betrayed more emotion than I had ever seen before.
A slight tickling sensation on my skin made me look down. A long scratch ran across the back of my hand, droplets of blood already beginning to form. I lifted my hand to inspect the wound and heard a low hiss from Sawford. He stepped toward me, jaw set firm, teeth gritted, shoulders shaking. But with what? Anger, fear? What could he possibly have to be afraid of?
“What have you done, boy!” he roared.
Percy stepped back, his face ashen with fear at the force of Sawford’s anger.
I glared at Sawford. “He has done nothing; my horse pulled up. Why are you not at your place by my husband’s side?”
Sawford ignored me and spoke to Percy.
“Return her ladyship’s horse to the stables.”
“But she is lame. It will take hours if I must walk her back.”
“Do not make me ask again.”
“But how will my lady…”
“I will ensure she’s returned to her place by her husband’s side.” Sawford spoke quietly but his voice held a dangerous edge. Tall and muscular, he towered over both of us in the dappled light of the forest. Percy glanced at me, and I nodded at him to do as he was bid. He mounted his horse and Sawford led the mare to him. He lifted up her front left foot.
“She has lost a shoe. Take her directly to the blacksmith. A gentle trot should suffice. Nothing faster or you’ll lame her.”
The young squire nodded at Sawford before giving me a stiff bow and taking his leave. Sawford furrowed his brow and reached out to touch my sleeve which was covered in mud from my fall.
“How do you propose I return to my place by my husband’s side?” I said with a sneer in my voice.
“You will ride with me.”
The stallion was tethered beside a tree, waiting patiently for his rider to return. Sawford took my arm and led me toward the tree. His grip betrayed his discomfort, the tension in his body reverberating through his arm. His loss of control was unsettling.
“Let me go.” I tried to pull free, but he was too strong. He grasped my other arm and pushed me back against the tree, the hard lumps of the bark digging into my shoulder blades. As I opened my mouth to protest, his mouth crushed mine, and he forced me harder against the tree with his body. His kiss was brutal, and I cried out as he grazed my bottom lip with his teeth, then soothed it with his tongue. He grew hard as he moved his body against mine, rocking his hips, a low growl in his throat. A savage instinct made me respond to his kiss, and I bit his lip, drawing blood. He gasped and let go of my arms. Immediately, I reached out to him, clutching his hair. Digging my nails into his scalp, I pulled him to me until our mouths met.
