Page 43 of Harpy of the Ton
Do I have a horse?
The creature nudged her again.
“What are you doing?” she murmured.
“Come on!” a voice said. “This isn’t the time to be lazin’ about.”
She opened her eyes, lifting her hands to shield them against the sun, and sat up.
She was in the back of a cart, in a pile of straw.
Where am I?
Whoam I?
Another poke—in her back this time.
Cursed animal!She whirled around.
“Will you stop…” Her voice trailed away as her gaze fell on a man.
Not a man—a beast. A giant with dirty blond locks framing his face, forming a halo as they caught the sunlight. Another man stood next to him—smaller in stature, but equally rough in appearance.
Then she remembered.
The giant was the man from the doctor’s cottage. He’d called herBella.
And—Lord save her—he was her husband. He’d proved it when he mentioned…
Her cheeks warmed as she recalled what he’d said about the scars on her leg near herintimate area.
The Beast grinned, revealing dimples in his cheeks, then offered his hand.
“Come on—let me help you down.”
Bella stared at the hand, then back at the man. His smile slipped and he cocked his head to the side.
“Must I remind you of your vow of obedience?”
“Lawrence, I hardly think—” the other man began.
“Stow it, Ned! She’s got to learn. A disobedient wife’s no use to a man.”
Though she heard laughter in the Beast’s tone, his eyes narrowed. Swallowing the ripple of apprehension, tinged with an unfathomable smattering of excitement, she took his hand. Her skin tightened as he closed his fingers around hers, the rough callouses of his palm abrading her skin. Then he pulled her toward him, and she stumbled out of the cart. He squeezed her hand, and she caught her breath at the fizz of need.
“Best tidy yourself up, love,” he said. “You got into a right state in the back of that cart. We’re living in a respectable village now.”
She glanced about. The cart had stopped at a fork in the road. One direction was wide enough to fit a cart, but overgrown. The other led to a smattering of dwellings—small, unremarkable houses forming rows either side of the track. Beyond, a spire rose, pointing toward the sky, surrounded by trees. A shot sounded in the distance, and a cloud of birds rose from thetrees, squawking and scolding at the world, before circling then settling back into the trees.
Halfway along the road—if a filthy track with a gully running through the middle could be called a road—a sign jutted out from one of the buildings, swinging in the breeze, depicting a thick-stemmed tree topped by a crown. Raucous laughter filled the air and two men stumbled out of the building. One spat on the ground, then they thrust their hands in their pockets and ambled along the road.
At the far end of the road, a couple on horseback rode toward them. The men stopped to remove their caps and bowed, but the riders passed without acknowledgment.
How uncivil!
The Beast tugged at her sleeve.
“Tidy yourself up, love!” he whispered. “That’s the squire and his missus—Sir Halford and Lady Merrick.”
