Lady of Hay by Barbara Erskine (reading an ebook TXT) 📕

their hooks—it was so cold. The boy hadn't kept the brazier outside the door fed properly, and it was smoking, not giving out much heat. Richard came in and I realized Nell must have let him pass. Elen would never have let him come to me alone. William was with the Earl of Gloucester—" She paused, sitting on the floor, hugging her knees, gazing at the table lamp. There was a long silence. Nick's eyes had not shifted from her face.

"Go on, " he said at last. "Aren't you going to tell me what happened next?"

She glanced up. "He didn't say anything at all. He just strode in, dropped the heavy curtains across the tent doorway and laced them together, then he took me in his arms. It was the first time we had kissed properly and I remember, for a moment, I was afraid. Then I forgot everything—William, little Will in the next tent with his nurses, the fear that someone might come—everything. I had never known physical desire before, only hints of it whenever Richard came near me, but suddenly I was overwhelmed by it. " She paused and then went on thoughtfully. "I think we had both imagined that the feeling we had for each other could be contained in some courtly flirtation, but suddenly it took fire. I didn't care what happened. I led him to the bed and he pushed me down on the furs—" She stopped abruptly, seeing Nick's face, and gave an embarrassed little laugh. "Sorry. I was getting carried away! Anyway, it was quite good, as I remember. Matilda's first orgasm—"

She broke off as he lunged forward and caught her wrist, pulling it viciously so that she fell toward him, knocking the tray off the low table. The coffeepot slid to the floor and cracked against the table leg, soaking the carpet with coffee.

"Nick, stop it!" she cried. She could feel her arm pressing on a sharp piece of broken china. Warm blood flowed over her wrist. "Nick, please—you're hurting me—please, look, I've cut myself—" The blind fury in his face frightened her. "It was only a dream, Nick. It wasn't real! For God's sake, what's the matter with you? Nick!" His hand was on her throat, his eyes murderous. Jo struggled frantically, feeling the pressure on her windpipe slowly increase. Then abruptly his mood seemed to change. He moved his hand from her throat, catching her wrists instead, clamping them above her head while with his free hand he began to pull open her bathrobe. Then he bent over her and began roughly caressing her breasts. He smiled coldly. "That's better. You like a little medieval violence, don't you? It reminds you of the good old days—"

"Please, Nick! Nick—" Jo was terrified by the blind savagery in his face. She had never seen anyone look like that before, except once... For a moment she stopped struggling and lay still, frozen with fear as she remembered the face of the man who had tried to strangle her before—Nick's other face—then with a last desperate pull she managed to break free of him. She rolled away and staggered to her feet, clutching her robe around her. "Get out! Get out of here, " she shouted. "Get out of this apartment, Nick, and never, ever come back!" Her eyes were blazing with anger. "Don't you dare lay a finger on me again! I don't know what the hell you think you're playing at, but you get out of here. I won't be treated like this. Not ever, do you hear!" She backed away from him toward the front door, knotting her belt around her waist. "Did you hear me?" she repeated desperately.

He was smiling as he stood up. A cool, arrogant smile, which turned her anger back to terror.

"Nick, please. What's wrong with you?" She had nearly reached the front door. Turning quickly, she scrabbled with the latch, frantically trying to drag the door open, but Nick was close behind her. He slammed the door shut and rammed the bolt home, then he caught her arm. As he swung her to face him Jo screamed. But the sound never came. It was cut off short as he clamped his hand across her mouth, pulling her hard against him. He half dragged, half carried her down the passage to the bedroom and, without turning on the light, flung her on the bed.

She lay there for a moment, winded, then as she turned, trying to struggle to her feet again, she felt a blinding blow across her face. Half stunned, she fell back as Nick's weight came down on top of her.

"Now, my lady, " he breathed, his fingers feeling for the knot of her belt, his face so close to hers she could see the gleam of his eyes in the darkness. "Another sound and I shall have to take steps to silence you. "

She tried to wriggle sideways as she felt his knee forcing her legs apart, but he held her easily. Eventually realizing that the more she fought him the more he was going to hurt her, she made herself go limp, biting her lip in pain as he forced his way inside her. His mouth ground into hers and she opened her lips helplessly beneath his probing tongue, and suddenly through her fear she felt a little stab of excitement. As if he sensed it, Nick laughed softly, and she felt his grip on her wrists tighten. "So, my lady, you do enjoy violence, " he whispered. "I think in a lot of ways you'll find I can please you better than Richard de Clare. " And his mouth left hers and traveled down her throat toward her breasts.

He fell asleep eventually, still spreadeagled over her numbed body, his head between her breasts, his hands, loosened at last, outstretched across the bedcover. Agonized, Jo tried to move. She was crying softly, afraid to wake him as she tried again to dislodge the