Page 55 of Her Dark Seduction
Chapter 17
The air grew colder the further we travelled. On some mornings when Sawford shook me awake, the leaves on the ground were dusted with frost; tiny icy fingers spreading into the veins until the leaf crumbled and rotted. The frost penetrated the blankets at night, and we huddled together, sharing the warmth of our bodies.
In the dark of the night I set aside my conscience and forgot what Sawford had done to Percy, succumbing to my body’s craving for him, relishing the tender touches on my skin as his expert hands carried me to another world. Each time he took me, my body’s reaction intensified, my need overpowering any desire for freedom. But in the frigid, gray light of the dawn, the lover turned, once more, into the tormentor; the man who owned me.
One evening, the rough path began to look more like a road and Sawford told me we were nearing our destination—Balsdean. A small town came into view, buildings straddling a well-trodden road, beyond which a river ran. Though the sun was setting, the town was alive with activity—merchants shouting their wares, a farmer walking his cattle along the road. Gaudily dressed women propositioned men near a tavern from where raucous laughter could be heard through the open door above which a sign swung in the breeze.
Some of the townsfolk stared at us. We must have looked an odd sight—a shabbily dressed man and woman astride a large black horse. Sawford steered the animal along the main thoroughfare, past a smithy from which I heard sounds of activity until we reached a two-story house outside which a pile of barrels was neatly stacked.
Sawford dismounted and helped me down. I bent over, rubbing my aching legs, too glad that our journey was over to be concerned about our destination. He thrust the reins into my hand.
“Wait here.”
I nodded, leaning against the horse for support. He knocked on the door, and a voice called out before the door creaked open.
“What are you wanting at this hour?” a male voice rasped.
“’Tis me.”
A pause was followed by an exclamation.
“Devil’s holy cock! We thought you were dead.”
“Forgive me, Jack. It’s been a long time…”
“Three years, brother. Three cursed years and hardly a word!” The man was furious.
“’Twas necessary.” Sawford’s voice was quiet. “Are you well? And Lily?”
“Aye, we are well,” the man replied. “My God! Lily! Lily!” he roared before speaking to Sawford again.
“Are you staying? You are most welcome.”
“If you have room.”
“Aye we do. There’s just the two of us. We have not been blessed with children.”
“I am sorry. I know how much you and Lily wanted—”
“No matter,” the man interrupted. “You have returned to us. You are much loved here; I trust you know that.”
He gave a hearty laugh. “In fact, you’re so loved I’ll wager the bed of every whore in town will be warmer and their smiles broader within a sennight.”
“Brother.” Sawford’s voice was a low growl before he called to me.
“Come here, Lisetta.”
I opened my eyes and shifted to stand beside my husband. The man in the doorway was shorter and stockier than Sawford, and I saw little resemblance at first glance. He glanced at me then shook his head.
“Brought your own whore? Lily won’t have her in the house, much as she loves you.”
“This woman is my wife, Jack.”
Jack’s eyes widened. Despite my shabby appearance, I had my dignity and I held out my hand.
“I assure you, Monsieur Sawford, I am no whore.”
He took my hand and kissed it before Vane pulled me back.
