Page 83 of Her Dark Seduction
I stiffened with hope but he read my thoughts. “He fled when he saw he was outnumbered. He won’t be back.”
For much of the night I heard the men calling to one another, their voices circling my tent, moving back and forth as they patrolled the area. Who—or what—had approached the camp had awakened their senses. I would not be able to escape unnoticed.
Eventually, heavier footfalls heralded de Tourrard’s return. He strode into the tent, covered in blood and smelling of smoke, a smile of triumph on his face, Guy beside him.
De Tourrard nodded in my direction. “Get her on a horse. We ride immediately.”
Guy led me toward his horse then lifted me up and mounted behind me. Almost at once, we set off at a hard pace.
We rode for the rest of the night and most of the following day until it grew dark again. When we finally stopped the horses were exhausted, their eyes wide and bloodshot, their breath coming in heavy rasps, sending visible puffs of air into the cold evening. My limbs ached, and I was desperate to remove myself from Guy’s presence, from the torrid whispers in my ear and the sweaty, aroused body against me.
De Tourrard helped me down from the horse and led me toward the camp where his men had already started a fire.
“I need a moment of privacy,” I demanded.
“Guy will attend to you.”
“No, I need a lady’s privacy.”
“Nonsense, my dear.” De Tourrard’s voice was quiet, but had a harsh edge to it. “I would not forgive myself if you became—hmm—lostin the woods. Guy will protect you.”
I sighed in defeat. Guy followed me to a bush, thick enough to conceal me from his direct gaze but close enough to the camp to be within calling distance. As much as I loathed de Tourrard, it was his authority and possessiveness that protected me from Guy’s attentions.
After I finished, I pulled my skirts back down and looked out beyond the bush into the darkness. It reminded me of the moment after the fire at Mortlock when I’d had my chance to flee. Little had I realized then where the real danger lay.
I had done all I could to ensure Geoffrey’s safety. Now I had only myself to be concerned with. Guy was nowhere to be seen. I could sprint into the forest and be gone. De Tourrard no longer had a hold over me. Standing up I stepped out of the bush, taking care where I placed my feet to ensure I made no sound. Voices rumbled in the distance, de Tourrard issuing orders to his men. I took another step, picking my way over the ground. Two more steps and I would break into a run.
A twig snapped and I turned to see Guy leering over me. He had been watching me all along. He licked his lips and smiled.
“Did you like what you saw?” I challenged.
He nodded. “Aye, I did. I will enjoy you when my time comes.”
****
The fire was blazing when we returned to the camp, the men busy cooking something on a spit. I sighed at the memory of skewering the rabbit for Vane, wishing I could return to that night and tell him I loved him. How different might things have been! The role of indifference I’d used to protect myself had merely prevented me from finding true happiness with the man I loved.
“Lisetta.” The voice of the man I hated returned me to the present. De Tourrard waved Guy away and led me to a blanket set apart from the men, pulling me down to sit with him. He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles, dipping his tongue between my fingers.
“I have a betrothal gift for you.”
“I’ve already told you, Wulfric, I am married, but I would refuse you even if I were not,” I said. “You disgust me.”
He let out a short derisive laugh. “I find a little unwillingness quite desirable, Lisetta. I abhor passivity in a woman.”
He pulled something out of a bag, an object the size of a man’s fist, wrapped in a dark cloth.
“Here, my dear. Perhaps this will help you reach the right decision with regards to matters of theheart.”
“My heart belongs to another, Wulfric.”
De Tourrard smiled and began unwrapping the cloth. The material was not dark, but a white muslin covered in stains. Only when he finished unwrapping, did it become clear what the stains were. He held his hand out until his gift was merely inches from my face.
I let out an involuntary moan. Were I not already sitting, I would have collapsed onto the ground. My throat constricted, and I struggled to breathe, suppressing a scream at what I saw before me.
In his hand, de Tourrard held a human heart.
“Who…?”
