Page 87 of Her Dark Seduction
“And that is?”
“William de Blois.”
I had heard of William; the old King Stephen’s third son. Rumors existed of his involvement in a previous plot on Henry’s life. He was a similar age to me—old enough to lead a country. But he was not a warrior. With him on the throne, the real ruler would be de Tourrard.
“Is it wise to divulge—” Papa spoke, but de Tourrard silenced him by raising his hand.
“Of course, Shoreton. I should wait until we have accomplished our victory.”
He continued to instruct me on my behavior. Most of his men, including Guy, were leaving with him. I was to be confined indoors and assigned one of Papa’s men-at-arms for my protection. Finally he stood and told Guy to escort me to the solar where he would ‘take his leave’ of me. Lowering my eyes in shame at his words, I ignored Guy’s lewd gaze as he accompanied me. He said nothing, and I shut the door on him to wait for de Tourrard to violate me once more.
****
During de Tourrard’s absence Papa kept himself in his study, sending and receiving messages. For the first few days my escort remained constantly by my side, but eventually he grew weary of wasting his time with a woman and sent one of the maidservants to remain with me while he visited the privy. I recognized the maidservant, Elspeth, from my childhood. She had often slipped me a sweetmeat when she’d found me hiding in the kitchen listening to servants’ gossip, returning me to Harwyn before Papa discovered me.
With Elspeth’s help I used those precious minutes in Maman’s old treatment room to begin work on the poison, crushing the berries into a small pot and letting it simmer over the fire. So as not to arouse suspicion we brewed other herbal infusions as well, genuine healing lotions to administer to members of the household who needed it. The poison I kept for myself, for when all hope was completely extinguished.
Soon after de Tourrard left, I dreamed of Vane, of his touch. It was so realistic. His soft fingertips caressed my skin, making my body tighten with need. He brushed his mouth lightly against my own. I opened my lips with a sigh of longing and his tongue sought entrance, teasing, probing, and sending a pulse of heat through my body. I shifted position on the bed and felt his hands and lips on my ankles, his touch so gentle, leading a trail of warmth between my legs until he reached my thighs. I parted them willingly, my breath catching in my throat as I waited for him to free me, to give me the pleasure which only he could give. He whispered my name, the heat of his voice rumbling against my core until I could bear it no longer.
Vane!
I drew my hands into fists, grasping the sheets tightly and pushed my hips up toward his voice, my body open and ready, pleading for him to take that which I gladly offered. I cared not that I begged him. Neither did I care he might reject me, so overcome was I by the need to have him inside me, to have him purge all trace of de Tourrard from my body.
A loud crash made me sit up with a scream. My heart thumped so loudly the rest of the castle must be able to hear it. The pounding turned into a loud hammering at the door.
Bang, bang, bang.
“Lady!”
“What is it?” I called out, my voice shaking.
The door opened, and one of Papa’s men walked in, holding a candle. I blinked at the light, shielding my eyes.
“You cried out. Are you well?”
“Aye,” I whispered. “It was just a bad dream.”
He nodded and closed the door, turning the lock.
The image of Vane’s vividly blue eyes was so strong I looked about, hoping he was with me, but I was alone in the room. It had been a dream. I sank back, defeated. Vane may be dead but my love for him had only strengthened.
He visited me in my dreams several times after that, each more vivid than the last, my need for him increasing. Each time I woke, the bed was empty, and I rolled onto my side, my body shaking as I cried in silence.
I had no hope. The man I loved was dead, and I was a traitor’s whore. If de Tourrard was successful in his campaign I would remain his whore until he tired of me and threw me to Guy. Were he to fail, I would be branded a traitor to be publicly condemned by the king and executed—or worse. Henry was not known for an even temper, neither was he known for his fidelity. He, too, might use me as his whore or hand me over to his men to be torn apart.
****
I first realized something was wrong when I heard rumors of defeat from the servants. I waited for Papa to tell me what had happened. But to him, I was merely a tool to be used to ally himself with others. He had no use for me other than to keep me alive for de Tourrard. The atmosphere turned into one of panic but the men refused to speak to me of it.
As word of de Tourrard’s return reached my ears, the rumors intensified. He had failed in his attempt to overthrow Henry. William de Blois had betrayed him and even now, Henry’s men were on their way to seize Shoreton. One of the men mentioned a name I had heard before—de Beauvane.
I heard de Tourrard’s voice long before I saw him. His angry words echoed around the bailey, ordering the men to turn the villagers out of the grounds then secure the drawbridge and prepare for a siege. Shortly after, the door to the solar flew open. Covered in grime and sweat, body taut with rage, he advanced toward me.
“So you have failed.” I spoke quietly.
Had he shown outward signs of emotion I would have feared him less, but even in the throes of limitless anger he remained controlled, each movement deliberate, serving a specific purpose. He reached toward me and caressed my collarbone before securing his fingers around my neck.
“I. Will. Not. Fail.”
