Page 28 of Her Dark Seduction
“Shhh, lady. ’Tis me.”
Harwyn sat beside me on the floor, cradling my head in her lap. Grief overcame me as she stroked my forehead, making soothing noises. She sang to me softly, and I clung to her, my body shaking with sobs.
When I quietened, she helped me sit up. The sorrow and compassion in her eyes only made my tears return.
“Poor young man. He did nothing wrong. My insane husband and his vile servant mutilated his body.”
“Shhh, lady, I beg you not speak of it so loudly. Why do you think they killed him? Perhaps he was the author of the letters?”
I shook my head. “Nay, Harwyn. Percy was simply a kind, young man, loyal to the king, who liked me and was murdered for it. I know not who Tarvin is but I must ask him to stop writing to me. He puts himself in danger.”
“He puts you in danger also.”
She held out her hand, and I took it, letting her pull me to a standing position.
“Lady, do you love Tarvin?”
“I cannot afford to, Harwyn. I cannot risk loving anyone here.” A sob rose in my throat. “Oh, Harwyn, ’tis too much for me! How can I continue this charade of feigning indifference? I know what happens here: evil, treachery, and the murder of innocents.”
“Lady, you must. Your Maman would be proud of you.” She lowered her voice. “Lord Mortlock is an old man. He won’t live forever. Not all lords are like your husband—or your father.”
“Aye, Harwyn, but my husband has family. His cousin de Tourrard is a powerful man and considerably younger. He would inherit.”
“Then you must ensure he has no influence over you.”
I shook my head. “The only way to achieve that, Harwyn, is to leave here after my husband dies…”
A sharp knock at the door made us both jump. We looked at each other in fear. Had they heard us?
Harwyn opened it to reveal Sawford, his powerful frame towering over her.
“I have come to escort Lady Mortlock to the solar.”
“But she is dressed for dinner.” Harwyn protested.
“She will dine alone with her husband tonight.”
I shivered at the prospect of spending an entire evening in the solar with my husband, but I held my head high and regarded Sawford haughtily.
“I can find my own way there. I’m sure one such as yourself has duties elsewhere.”
He raised an eyebrow sardonically. “One such as I?”
“Aye—a bastard.”
His lips curled into a smile but his expression remained cold. He narrowed his eyes and held out his hand. When I took it, he stroked my skin with his thumb. I caught a breath in my throat but stared straight ahead, refusing to look at him while he led me to my husband.
At the threshold of the solar, he pulled me to him, his voice laced with warning.
“I advise you to do everything your husband wishes tonight. Show nothing of the foolish behavior you displayed this afternoon.”
“You have no right to issue orders to your mistress,” I hissed, pulling my hand from his. But he merely gripped it more tightly.
“For the love of God, woman, do not be a fool. Heed my words. Remember what I told you about your husband.”
I did not understand his meaning but as he pushed me into the solar, my senses were assaulted by a strange odor. The odor was faintly reminiscent of Sawford’s wound, when I’d first treated it—the smell of rotting flesh. A table was set for three in the center of the room. Each placing had an eating knife and a trencher. On two of the trenchers someone had ladled out the venison stew eaten regularly at Mortlock. My husband sat in front of one of the trenchers, wearing a nightshirt. On the third—where the odor emitted from—someone had placed Percy’s head.
“Ah, my dear. Come and join us.” My husband beckoned to me. “Your lover and I are taking supper together and think it only fair you be permitted to partake. Sawford, bring her here.”
