Page 39 of Her Dark Seduction
He said nothing but must have responded because she continued, her voice sulky.
“Then why did you agree to meet me if only to give me to Wyatt? It’s you I want. I told you I am willing, and I would let you give me your seed.”
“I will father no bastards.”
The voice was Sawford’s.
“What about the brat that bitch over there carries?” I almost flinched at the hatred in Celia’s voice but Sawford merely laughed.
“The child is Mortlock’s, Celia. Anyone claiming otherwise risks their neck.”
“But she has a lover. Is it you?”
“I have no time for haughty ladies, Celia. I despise them and all they stand for. I prefer my women lush and earthy.
“But you want her?”
“Jealous, love?” His tone was mocking yet Celia persisted.
“She’s not the woman for you, Vane. Not like your Celia…”
“No woman shall lay claim to me; not even you. I take who I want whenever I want.”
“Do not takeher, Vane,” she murmured, her voice thick with seduction.
I heard the crack of a hand striking flesh.
“You bastard! You dare hit me?”
“I do what I please, woman.” His voice rose in anger and I heard a scuffle before he struck her again.
“Get off me you bastard! I only kissed you!”
“I told you before I don’t kiss my women. Do not try it again! You think I would father my bastards with you when you use that term to belittle me?”
“Then take me for a wife,” Celia pleaded, “I can give you endless nights of pleasure in your bed.”
“You’re a whore, Celia, only fit to be rutted in the dirt on your knees.”
“You liked me well enough in the past.” The coaxing tone returned to Celia’s voice.
“Fawning does not become you—you who freely give your pleasures to every man in the castle, nay, the country.” Sawford’s voice turned into a snarl. “Get out and find another willing to settle for soiled goods.”
“And leave you in here withher?”
“I said get out!” Sawford roared. I heard a curse and scrambling feet before the door slammed shut.
The cot shifted under his weight, and he sat beside me, the warmth from his body seeping into mine. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to open my eyes.
His hand touched my arm. The gentleness with which he brushed his fingers over me contrasted sharply with the cruelty of his words to Celia. His touch was so delicate I almost couldn’t feel it, yet my skin tightened with want. He flattened his hand and moved it slowly, tentatively, toward my rounded belly. The child within me moved, and he drew in a sharp breath. My instincts took over, and I moved my hand to protect my baby. Sawford’s body stiffened.
The cot shifted again as he stood. The door opened, and he issued a sharp order before he moved back to the cot.
“I will tell Lord Mortlock to expect you at his side tonight. I have sent for someone to help you dress.”
Not waiting for an answer he left the room. I cursed his arrogant confidence; he knew I was awake. Expecting me to comply, he did not even deign to argue the point.
That evening he came to deliver me to my husband. I wore my pale gray silk gown through which my swollen belly was more visible. Though I hated Sawford I was thankful he had sent Edith to dress me. Her hands would never be as gentle as my beloved Harwyn’s but she lacked Celia’s streak of cruelty; Celia who took pleasure in tugging my hair viciously as she drove the comb into my scalp.
