crying the day before they left Bridlemere and knew she carried the burden of her guilt. Lisette’s only consolation was her maid’s assurance that in the act of emptying his seed into her womb, the stranger experienced physical pleasure. When there had been no turning back, Ysabel had done her best to cheer Lisette, reminding her that the man had been well compensated with food and silver coin upon his release.
’Twas not long before the door to her chamber burst open and her guardian strode in. There was satisfaction and malice in his expression.
“Praying will do you no good,” he scoffed. “Your betrothed awaits and he has been warned about your fiery temper.” With a rough tug Lord Blake dragged her to her feet. “He assured me he will punish you if you so much as put a foot out of place.”
Cold dread leeched through her, making her throat dry at the thought of the threat which awaited her. With firm resolve, she pushed her fears away.
“I doubt Lord Collins will be well pleased if I present at his bed with bruise marks from your fingers.” She looked pointedly at where Lord Blake’s fingers bit into the soft flesh of her upper arms.
Instead of releasing her, he pulled her closer. The stench of his body odour repulsed her.
“He won’t be worried about that part of your body.” His gaze travelled to the swell of her breasts and she heard his breathing quicken. “Were you the daughter of a serf and not bound for marriage to a lord, I would enjoy my Droit du Seigneur . Observing the boundaries of honour is vastly overrated, I fear.”
“You have no honour,” she bit out through clenched teeth. “You wouldn’t know the boundaries of honour if you fell over them.” When she would have pulled free of his hold, he released her. She expected his wrath, but he merely laughed.
“Any slight bruises on your fair skin from my fingers will pale into insignificance with the treatment you will receive at your husband’s hands for your viper’s tongue. And after this eve in your wedding bed, you’ll have bruises deep inside you that won’t be visible. All will know of them each time you try to take a step.” He laughed in crude anticipation.
Shuddering in revulsion, Lisette walked past her guardian. Lord Collins would not punish her—she would give him no reason to. As much as it would cost her to be meek, she would present herself as a dutiful, compliant wife. It had occurred to her that once she was the lady of his keep, she might be able to gather enough information from the servants to implicate Lord Collins in the murder of at least one of his wives. In that case she would petition the king with the facts she gathered and ensure the brutish lord received his punishment.
***
Standing outside the church doorway waiting for the priest to perform the marriage ceremony, Lisette could not bring herself to look again at the man standing on her right. Everything in her had recoiled as her guardian had placed her hand into that of her future husband. Until a few moments ago she’d only seen Lord Collins once, across a crowded banquet hall.
Collins was tall, but not well built, and his shoulders were rounded. His cheekbones were prominent, his lips—too thin—were pinched in an expression that reminded her of a weasel. The black eyes that examined her from head to toe like a man buying a brood mare, were completely devoid of any warmth. But, rather than appearing cruel, he actually struck her as being furtive and rather unsure of himself—a rather pathetic creature. Mayhap Lord Blake had exaggerated the suggestions of what she might suffer at his hands and in his bed. Surely Collins’ rod would not be as firm as the peasant she’d already coupled with.
The heat from a blush rose up her neck and Lisette lowered her head further. She could not let her thoughts wander back to that peasant.
Now she must play the part of innocent maiden and ensure she did not test her husband-to-be. The consequences
’Twas not long before the door to her chamber burst open and her guardian strode in. There was satisfaction and malice in his expression.
“Praying will do you no good,” he scoffed. “Your betrothed awaits and he has been warned about your fiery temper.” With a rough tug Lord Blake dragged her to her feet. “He assured me he will punish you if you so much as put a foot out of place.”
Cold dread leeched through her, making her throat dry at the thought of the threat which awaited her. With firm resolve, she pushed her fears away.
“I doubt Lord Collins will be well pleased if I present at his bed with bruise marks from your fingers.” She looked pointedly at where Lord Blake’s fingers bit into the soft flesh of her upper arms.
Instead of releasing her, he pulled her closer. The stench of his body odour repulsed her.
“He won’t be worried about that part of your body.” His gaze travelled to the swell of her breasts and she heard his breathing quicken. “Were you the daughter of a serf and not bound for marriage to a lord, I would enjoy my Droit du Seigneur . Observing the boundaries of honour is vastly overrated, I fear.”
“You have no honour,” she bit out through clenched teeth. “You wouldn’t know the boundaries of honour if you fell over them.” When she would have pulled free of his hold, he released her. She expected his wrath, but he merely laughed.
“Any slight bruises on your fair skin from my fingers will pale into insignificance with the treatment you will receive at your husband’s hands for your viper’s tongue. And after this eve in your wedding bed, you’ll have bruises deep inside you that won’t be visible. All will know of them each time you try to take a step.” He laughed in crude anticipation.
Shuddering in revulsion, Lisette walked past her guardian. Lord Collins would not punish her—she would give him no reason to. As much as it would cost her to be meek, she would present herself as a dutiful, compliant wife. It had occurred to her that once she was the lady of his keep, she might be able to gather enough information from the servants to implicate Lord Collins in the murder of at least one of his wives. In that case she would petition the king with the facts she gathered and ensure the brutish lord received his punishment.
***
Standing outside the church doorway waiting for the priest to perform the marriage ceremony, Lisette could not bring herself to look again at the man standing on her right. Everything in her had recoiled as her guardian had placed her hand into that of her future husband. Until a few moments ago she’d only seen Lord Collins once, across a crowded banquet hall.
Collins was tall, but not well built, and his shoulders were rounded. His cheekbones were prominent, his lips—too thin—were pinched in an expression that reminded her of a weasel. The black eyes that examined her from head to toe like a man buying a brood mare, were completely devoid of any warmth. But, rather than appearing cruel, he actually struck her as being furtive and rather unsure of himself—a rather pathetic creature. Mayhap Lord Blake had exaggerated the suggestions of what she might suffer at his hands and in his bed. Surely Collins’ rod would not be as firm as the peasant she’d already coupled with.
The heat from a blush rose up her neck and Lisette lowered her head further. She could not let her thoughts wander back to that peasant.
Now she must play the part of innocent maiden and ensure she did not test her husband-to-be. The consequences
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