Page 34 of Her Dark Seduction
“You are well aware of my worth, madam.” He pulled me to him and kissed me roughly. I drew back my arm and scratched him across the face, taking care to score a mark with my fingernails. He pushed me away, and I glared back defiantly, challenging him to strike again but he merely laughed.
“I see my lover has a set of claws.”
He stepped toward me and I backed away.
“Return to your room. Even if you survived an escape attempt, a pampered creature such as yourself would not live long in the real world.”
As if to prove his point, he nodded toward my gown where it had torn in the struggle. Beyond him, in the light of the setting sun, a group of my husband’s men stood by the bailey wall watching us.
I had no choice but to obey. Never had I felt so trapped. The shame at losing my self-control in front of the very man I strived to protect myself from was too much to bear. I felt ill again and only just reached my room before I bent over, retching.
The poison must be working again. Perhaps someone was slipping something into my food. I had two options—die slowly here at Mortlock or die more quickly in an attempt to escape. The latter seemed preferable but I could not leave without Harwyn.
Harwyn. I heard her exclamation of horror on seeing her mistress collapsed on the floor yet again and felt her hand on my head.
“Lady, you are unwell again.”
She helped me up and undressed me, easing me into my cot. I reached out my hand and she took it.
“Harwyn, we have to leave,” I whispered. “I’ll ask Tarvin to help.”
She shook her head. “Nay, lady, ’tis too dangerous. We know not who he is yet.”
“I care not, Harwyn. I am tired, so tired. I cannot stay here any longer and would rather leave—or die trying.”
She squeezed my hand in comfort. “Then I will help you.”
****
My husband’s guests remained at Mortlock for almost a month, but I managed to stay away from them, confining myself to my room. I used Harwyn as a lookout when I slipped out to the wild garden for air. If they were plotting against the king, I wanted to leave as soon as possible but Harwyn warned me of the danger of corresponding with Tarvin while the guests were here, especially Papa and de Tourrard.
The evening after the guests left, my husband summoned me to the main hall for dinner. Harwyn was brushing my hair when another wave of nausea caught me, and I lurched forward, feeling faint. She sat me on my cot, facing the window, my back to the door while I leaned forward, taking deep breaths until the nausea passed.
“Lady, I have to ask. Are you breeding?”
“Harwyn?” I lifted my head weakly. “No. Dear Lord. No.”
“I’ve not had to supply you with extra cloths for some time. This sickness of yours—forgive me—’tis obvious. Your Maman suffered much the same with you.”
Lord save me, I was with child.
“My husband must not be told, Harwyn. He’ll never let me out of his sight if he knows.”
She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and I took it, trying to make sense of what was happening to me. Escape was now an imperative. I could not live with myself if I allowed a child to be brought up here. Lord Mortlock was a vile enough husband but what of Baron de Tourrard? He had made his intentions clear when he accosted me. A life with him would be even worse. I would not let any child of mine be used by either of them.
Eventually Harwyn patted my hand and picked up the brush again, running it delicately through my hair before braiding it.
“Harwyn, is there anything you can give me for my sickness?”
“Aye, I will brew you an infusion tonight.”
“Thank you, Harwyn. But be careful. My husband must not find out. Nobody must know I am carrying Vane Sawford’s child.”
A noise made us both turn round. Neither of us had heard the door open, nor the approaching footsteps of the man who now leaned against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on me. Harwyn took my hand and I stared in horror as Vane Sawford inclined his head toward me in a slight bow before turning his back on us, leaving as silently as he came.
