Page 27 of Her Dark Seduction
Chapter 9
I closed my eyes but could not erase the image of the black, gaping holes in Percy’s face where his eyes had been. The lurching movement of my horse became more pronounced and a rush of nausea almost overwhelmed me. I took a deep breath, and my body shuddered. I tasted blood on my lips and realized I had bitten them.
A low chuckle burbled from behind.
“I think my wife approves of our treatment of traitors. What say you, Sawford?”
“Who can tell what she thinks, my Lord?
My husband laughed. “Aye, Sawford. She clearly thinks little of her lover, no?”
“Mayhap she knows nothing of love.”
Sawford—how could he? To mock me with my own words while that poor gentle soul lay mutilated for all to see. Full of hatred I lifted my gaze to him. He narrowed his own eyes, showing small creases around the edges. I dropped my gaze, unwilling to let him see my tears. I focused on my hands which curled and uncurled around the reins. My horse, sensing I was no longer in control, lunged her head forward, jerking my arms. I struggled to steady her as we rode into the stable yard.
Another surge of nausea welled up inside me. I fought to control my breathing. I counted: one, two, three. Keeping my eyes closed, I drew on images of happier times—life with Maman, moments alone in the wild garden, occupation in the treatment room with Harwyn—anything to drive out the black and red images of Percy’s severed neck, the drops of blood and the crow’s vicious beak, pulling in and out…
“Lady.”
I jerked my head up as a hand touched my wrist.
Sawford watched me.
I swung my leg over the saddle and dismounted. The ground came toward me at speed, drawing closer and closer until I could make out a small stone across which a black beetle crawled, dragging its hind legs. Its back, shiny and poisonous-looking, reminded me of my husband. I closed my eyes again, wanting to obliterate everything and a slow, pulsating, swirling sensation shifted my body as the ground beneath my feet began to spin.
My head began to pound, and I heard something—almost like a howling from within my mind, urging me to shut out the world. Desperate to succumb, I squeezed my eyes together more tightly, but a strong grip on my arms pulled me back. I reached out and my hands met cloth, which I grasped to steady myself.
The spinning sensation faded, and I opened my eyes.
I was in Sawford’s arms.
I pushed him away, biting my lip to stop my voice from trembling, and eyed him with loathing. This was the man who in all likelihood was the one who murdered Percy or, at least, gave the order.
“The ground is uneven is it not?” He spoke calmly.
“Take your hands off me.”
He said nothing. Instead, he lifted his hand to my face and wiped his thumb across my bottom lip. I saw a smear of red on his thumb which he wiped on his sleeve.
“Take care, madam. Lord Mortlock does not like to see a flaw on his wife’s face.”
I turned my back on him and addressed my husband.
“I would beg to be excused so I might dress for dinner.”
“Of course,” Mortlock croaked. “Come here.”
To my horror he drew me to him until our mouths met. I thought I heard a sharp intake of breath from Sawford. Revulsion drove out all other sensations as my husband ran his lips over mine, roughly pushing his tongue in and out of my mouth. He tasted of decay and evil, his breath a fog of putrefaction. The kiss only lasted a brief moment, but I felt tainted and unclean, as if the sickness of his mind would permeate my soul and condemn me to hell.
He broke off the kiss and laughed.
“You see, Sawford, she is repulsed by a bastard and pushes you away. Yet her noble husband is not thus rejected. My wife has discerning tastes.”
“Aye, she has.”
I bowed my head at my husband and ignoring Sawford, turned and walked across the stable yard. Only after I entered the building, assured of my solitude, did I break into a run. On reaching my room I burst through the door and collapsing on the floor, retched. The ground began to spin again, and I gasped for air, my vision dimming. Once again, darkness rushed toward me, but this time I welcomed it, knowing it to be the precursor to oblivion.
I opened my eyes as a cool hand touched the side of my face, and I jerked my head up in fright.
