The Unknown Mistress - An Erotica and Romance Paranormal/Historical Novella by Dorian Mayfair Page A

“Or do you seriously believe such a creature can find redemption?”
    Trying to find her footing, Jany faltered and swallowed hard. Being at the centre of the baroness’s attention was like facing a judge. A stern, severe and ominous judge who was making Jany sweat for more than one reason. In a snap decision, Jany decided to be honest. That was always the best route when faced with mysteries.
    “The witchfinder is unreasonable,” Jany said, feeling as if she was rushing out onto newly frozen ice over a deep lake. “His logic is flawed and his methods are crude. I think he’s more interested in theatrics than in justice.” She hesitated. “And I think he hates women, too. At least those he cannot impress.”
    Rather than gasping with outrage, the baroness nodded thoughtfully. “You may be right,” she said in a hushed voice. “I cannot make sense of his idea of justice, and his little show earlier this evening was...frightening.”Her voice was so low it almost sounded like a growl.
    Jany could have screamed with relief. Had the baroness thought the man was reasonable, Jany would not have lived to see the next evening. Still, she did not know where to go from here; she was still running in darkness. Speaking the truth about what she felt about the possibly-mad witchfinder had been easy. Now she felt as if she had veered down onto a road on which she could not turn around. All she could to was run it to the end.
    Glancing at the vampire in the bed, she tried to make out the woman’s features, but they were hidden by dancing shadows. It was heartbreaking. A young, absurdly beautiful woman, corrupted by an evil creature.
    Standing this close to the blaze was making her sweat, so Jany drained half of her wine before she could stop herself. It was strong, rich and velvety, better than any wine she had ever tasted before. The bottle must have cost a fortune. And here she was, drinking it as if it were water. Hoping  that the baroness had not noticed, she slowly put her glass back on the table.
    “But surely we must tell the duke,” the baroness insisted. “After all, it is his castle. And the maid was in his service.” Looking at Jany over the rim of her glass, she waited for a response.
    Again, Jany faltered. Was it her imagination, or had the baroness’s suggestion come out as a question rather than a statement. Was the woman proposing something else? If she was, Jany had no idea what it could be. Perhaps had the wine already had fogged over Jany’s mind. Once more, she had the sensation of walking running headlong through a dark corridor.
    “I suppose it would be the right thing to do,” Jany said, her hands shaking as she spoke. “As there is nothing we can do.” She deliberately turned her last sentence into a question of her own. Something told her that the baroness had an agenda, and she was desperate to know what it was.
    For a moment, the baroness’s cool facade slipped and she looked tense. She glanced at Jany and then turned her gaze to the floor. “I – I am not sure,” she said. “Oh, this is difficult.”
    Sensing a secret, Jany’s curiosity snapped to attention like a happy Dobberman. “You can rely on me, my lady.”
    “I know,” the baroness said and smiled nervously. “I mean, you are a scribe, after all. And when we met in the stairwell, I sensed that you were...honest. Perhaps even understanding.”
    Jany hid a surprised frown; the baroness said ‘understanding’ as if it had surprised her. A small but alarmed voice in the back of Jany’s mind shouted warnings, but her eagerness to learn more flicked caution out of the picture. Getting involved was lunacy, of course, but Jany would eat burning coal if it meant she could stay in the woman’s company for a while longer.
    Eyes widening, Jany shook herself. That had definitely beenthe wine talking. She sipped again from her glass and shifted her feet. She would leave soon. Any moment now. Staying was unwise; unless she controlled