Page 179 of Historical Hotties
Julia took another step back, thinking quite seriously about running away screaming. “You are mad.”
He grabbed her before she could get away. “Tell anyone and I will kill you,” he seethed. “Help me to exact my vengeance on Creed and you shall live.”
She struggled with him. “So it is your vengeance after all? I thought you said it was mine.”
He shook her so hard that her neck snapped. “What I do, I do for us both,” he growled, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. “Creed has ever affronted me. He shadows me with his self-righteousness, always ensuring that he has the upper hand. I will not allow him to dominate me any longer. I will not allow him to win.”
Julia could see her death in his eyes. She stared at him a very long time before nodding her head, just once. Jory let her go and smiled broadly.
“There, my lady,” he said sweetly. “That was not so difficult, was it?”
Julia was trembling and terrified. “What would you have me do?”
He told her.
*
Lady Anne hadturned the small chamber on the fourth floor of Prudhoe’s keep into a wonderland of warmth and comfort. Slender tapers burned everywhere, filling the room with a gentle glow. Upon the large bed was a fluffy linen coverlet stuffed with feathers, which Lady Anne had covered in the dried petals of wild flowers that grew beyond Prudhoe’s walls. Fresh rushes covered the floor and a warm fire blazed in the small hearth.
Carington ran her hand over the coverlet and tossed it back, realizing that the sheets were made of fine cotton and woven until very soft. She fingered the material, never having felt anything so fine. Over her shoulder, she noticed that someone had brought her two satchels and bedroll and had stacked them neatly in the corner. The room was truthfully very tiny and there was hardly enough room to turn around in it, butCarington found it extremely comfortable and inviting. She was much more at home here than in the larger ladies’ chamber downstairs. She looked up at her husband as he stood next to her, also inspecting the bed. She smiled when their eyes met.
“I’ve never seen such a beautiful room,” she said. “It looks as if angels sleep here.”
His eyes glittered as he touched her cheek. “One does.”
She blushed modestly, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Her nervous eyes darted about the room until her gaze fell upon a small table with a pitcher and two cups. She moved around Creed and went to pour them some wine.
“Libations on yer wedding night, m’lord?” she smiled as she extended him the cup.
He took a step towards her and accepted it, watching her as she collected her own cup. They gazed into each other’s eyes as they both drank deeply. He drained his, took her still half-full cup away from her, and set both cups down on the table. Then he took her hand and led her over to the bed. He sat on the mattress as she continued to stand. With his height and her petite size, they were nearly at eye level.
He gazed into her sweet face, studying the woman who had very quickly come to mean the world to him. “Although I had always hoped to marry at some point, I never imagined it would come about like this,” he said.
She lifted her eyebrows. “Nor did I.”
He laughed softly. “Any regrets, my lady?”
She shook her head and sat down next to him. “Not-a yet.”
“Not-a yet?” He repeated in her heavy burr with a snort, watching the firelight play off her nearly black hair. “Hopefully there will never be any. I will do my best to ensure that there are not.”
His reached out an enormous hand, gently touching her hair. She instinctively leaned into his hand and he cupped her head gently.
“Tell me something, English?”
He loved hearing her delicate voice, the way her Scots accent enunciated each word. “Anything, honey.”
“Are we always to live at Prudhoe?”
His warm expression faded. “Nay.”
“Then where will we go?”
His dusky blue eyes took on a distant look. “Throston Castle, eventually. It is where I was born.”
“Does yer family live there, then?”
“My father does. My mother passed away some years ago.”
