The Dark Lady (23 page)

They passed several soldiers who smiled and said their good mornings to her. She smiled back. As the warriors went on their way she leaned toward Devon to whisper conspiratorially, “I have always been afraid of soldiers.”

Devon looked from the small, feisty, and very beautiful young girl to the huge, dirty, scar-riddled warriors that roamed the courtyard. He looked back at her and worry tightened his chest. “These men are on good behavior here, but that does not mean you should trust the majority of soldiers that you meet. Do not trust them too far. All men have it in them to be brutes at one time or another.” His voice sounded much too gruff even to his own ears, but he did not want to see anything happen to Amy. “You need to be wary of them.”

Amy stopped and looked up at him. He had expected to see fear, but what he saw swelled his chest with warmth. What he saw was trust and a little more, or perhaps that was just his wishful thinking.

“
Even you? Am I not to trust you, Mr. Horacio?” She looked up at him with almost devotion in her shining eyes and he did not believe that he was imagining it.

“
You are so beautiful.” His voice was husky. “It is me especially that you should not trust. Please do not think me a nice man, a man whose motives are pure. I am still not sure myself if friendship is what I have in mind for us.” He pulled her against him, smiling at the shocked look that crossed her face. “I may be after much more from you.”

“
Let me go. Look at all these people,” she whispered breathlessly. “They will see.” She blushed to an almost purple color as she tried to push him away with a laugh. “Let me go. I may scream.”

He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her nose. “Scream. See how many people are watching us then.” He laughed as he unwillingly set her away from him and looked down at her. “You are such a small little thing. I would not want to fight me off if I were you. I could overpower you easily,” he said and made a halfhearted reach for her.

Amy squealed as she stepped out of his reach, but she laughed and smacked playfully at him. “You may be a foot taller than me and your thigh may be as big as my waist, but I know how to hit a man where it will hurt. So do not try me.”

He gasped mockingly. “You would not do that to me. That is fighting dirty.” Devon knew he could block her kick if she tried and he lunged at her.

Her leg moved, an obvious attempt to decimate his manhood. He pulled his thigh to catch the blow that never came. Sudden pain flashed through his face as her small fist smashed into his eye, throwing him off guard.

“
You hit me.” He was dumbfounded. “You lied to me. That is not what you said you would do.” He could feel the eye beginning to puff even as they spoke.

“
Did it hurt?” she asked pompously.

“
Yes it hurt. That, my dear, is a stupid question.” He was not angry at her and fought the urge to laugh at the smirk on her face.

“
Then yes, I did exactly what I said I would.” She turned to walk away from him, a scream tearing from her as he threw her over his shoulder.

“
Put me down,” she screeched. “Devon.”

His name came from her lips like a cool breeze on a hot and humid day. It raced over him, sending chills across his skin. He placed her on the ground and smiled. “Now, see, that was not so hard, was it?”

She giggled as she turned to him. “What?”

“
Calling me Devon. You will get used to it.” She did not answer him, just swung her fist into his chest. He laughed. “Come, my dear. Let us see if we can find that lady of yours.”

Angry voices echoed across the courtyard as they approached the stables. Just outside the stable doors Lord and Lady Grayweist stood toe to toe.

Amy moved to rush past him and toward the couple. Peter caught Devon’s gaze and he grabbed Amy, pulling her back against him. Devon wrapped an arm around her waist keeping her still as Peter turned his attention back to the furious woman before him.

“
I will not allow you to just leave my chambers without an escort. It is unseemly for a woman to just wander the grounds without someone to protect her.” He looked at the thin black dress that shrouded her. The breeze pulled the thin material across her muscular thighs and narrow hips. Lust rushed through him and he could only imagine what it did in the minds of the other men.

Anger gave way to rage as Vanessa nearly screamed in his face. It boiled in his veins like lava just begging to be set free.

“
I do not need an escort of any type. I think I can take care of myself on my own land without some arrogant man trying to make himself feel important by telling me what to do.”

Peter could feel his face heating up as the anger pushed at him incessantly. “Do not interrupt me when I am speaking to you. Where were you raised that your mother did not teach you better manners than this? Did she not—”

Van’s unstable emotions had had enough and the mention of her mother propelled her over the edge. Her throat burned as she screeched at him, and her voice wavered, but she held it together. “Do not ever speak of my mother. You know nothing of what she had to go through for me. Do not think that just because I am standing here before you dressed like a meek woman means—”

Peter reached forward, grabbing her arms, giving her a rough shake. “When I speak to you, you will shut that hole under your nose and listen to me. You will show me the respect that I deserve.”

Van began to struggle in his tight grip, her anger building and clouding her thoughts. A dirt clod hit her painfully in the shoulder and she fell silent. She stared down at the dirt spot that showed brightly on her newly made gown. She looked up and saw Devon. He would not meet her eyes, just looked guiltily at his dirty hands.

Amy stood beside Devon, giving her a pleading look. Van was devastated. She was not one to lose her calm control. If she had been on the battlefield, that dirt clod could easily have been an arrow, and she would not be embarrassed in front of all the people in the courtyard. Nay, now she would be dead.

Shame flooded her. She turned her full attention back to Peter. “I am fine, my lord. You may release me.” She could hear the deep remorse in her shaky voice, and hoped that Peter could not.

Van was on the verge of a complete breakdown. Tears that had built since her mother had died threatened to drown her as she thought of mounting Damian and charging away.

Peter watched her closely and she could feel her skin tighten beneath his probing gaze. He didn’t release her, instead pulled her tightly into his warm embrace. “Everything is going to be all right, my love. I know things have not worked well for us, but it will get better.”

His soft whisper tickled across the side of her face. She turned it away from him. She held herself perfectly still in his arms. She could feel his warmth trying to seep into her and fought against it. She barely held the tears at bay and could not allow them to fall in front of all these people, in front of him. She fought against the desire to lose herself in his caress.

He finally released her, smiling a confident smile. It lasted only a moment as she began to speak. “Nothing will be all right, not now, not ever. I can never be...” She did not add, the woman you want me to be. She couldn’t. “Never mind.” She had regained a semblance of her iron control and now smiled. “I would like to accompany you to see the men now.”

“
See my men?” His face tightened and she smiled. At least he would not be holding her and threatening to tumble the walls that she held precariously around herself. “Nay, I will not allow you to accompany me to see my men train. You have no business going onto the training field. Do you understand me?”

Van snorted. “I understand you are going back on your word, my lord. You are the one who offered for me to see them. It was practically the first thing out of your mouth.”

Peter crossed his arms stubbornly in front of him. “Vanessa, I am not going back on my word. I remember well the first time I met you and I also remember saying, perhaps I would take you. I have decided it is not a good idea that you see the men train with me now.”

“
Then when will I see the men train with you?” Van tilted her head to the side and gazed at him. Irritation swirled, but she held it at bay. The dirt clod had done well to remind her of her delicate position. She just hoped it would last.

“
Never. You will not be allowed to go with me. I will not allow it. Now, tell me you understand.” Peter glanced around them and shook his head. He looked back at her and scowled.

Van conceded that she could not win this argument, but smiled knowing that at least part of the battle would be her victory. “I understand that I will not be allowed to accompany you to see the men train.” Careful wording and she could agree to almost anything. She smiled sweetly.

Suspicion rose within Peter as he watched the docile smile spread across her soft lips. He felt an urge to kiss her, but fought it. “Good, now go back inside and finish getting dressed. You spend so much time plastering yourself with that powder you do not remember to dress all the way.” Peter felt excitement try to harden him every time the wind pushed the silky material against her. He was quite enjoying the view and thought perhaps he might like to see her like that in private later, but was angry to think that his men were thinking of her intimate curves.

“
I will do no such thing. I am dressed. I will wear what I have on. If you think it is easy wearing such layers of fluff around your legs and walking then you do it.” Her voice faltered as a laugh was heard from somewhere around them. It was quickly smothered and she continued, unabashed. “The time that you make it through a day with them on is the day that I will wear them.”

Did she have no sense at all? He thought one moment that he was getting through to her and then the next she acted like she was the one who was in charge. “I will not even dignify that with a response, but you will do as I say. Now go to your chambers and get dressed.”

Amy stepped into his line of sight and approached with a nervous smile. “Milady let me assist you, please. I can take her to her chambers, milord.”

Vanessa turned with a look on her face that said she was miles from the courtyard and no longer participating in their conversation. She scowled and walked away without a word.

Peter was dumbfounded as he watched her disappeared into the stables. Anger blurred his vision as he went after her. Amy, Devon, and Grant followed.

Before they had reached her they heard a livid shout, “What the Hell do you think you are doing? This is none of your concern.” Recognizing his horse trainer’s voice Peter rushed into the large building, his three followers close on his heels.

Peter’s mind froze as he stepped through the stable doors and gazed in horror at the scene before him.

Corey Ponsworth stood with his legs apart and his arm pulled back, his bull whip arched behind him. Lady Vanessa walked confidently toward him, pulling her hand into the end of her sleeve, wrapping the material tightly around it.

Peter’s heart flew to his throat and he could not breathe, could not demand a stop to this nightmare. Fear and anger overrode his senses. It took only a moment for him to catch his breath, but before he had his mouth open, Corey thrust the whip violently forward. The whip flew close to his wife’s face and Peter thought his knees would give out.

Her covered hand flew up catching the whip and twisting it around her wrist. There was a gasp and a grunt issued forth as Corey’s arm jerked forward, the whip ripping from his fingers.

Vanessa pulled the whip through her hand and grasped the tightly wound leather grip. She stalked toward him with murder in her every feature. Peter could clearly see her flailing his head horse master with his own whip.

Peter gained control of his traitorous limbs enough to rush forward, blocking her path. “Stop, what do you think you are doing?” He looked behind her at the magnificent horse that stood before him. He understood her anger. He felt that same anger at what must have been Corey using his whip on his prize stallion.

Lingering fear for his stubborn bride added to his anger, building it as he quickly scanned Jackal’s hide for signs of whip damage. Satisfied the horse was not injured Peter turned on Corey. “You will leave my lands at once. I cannot tolerate a whip taken to my prize horse, but it would only cause your dismissal. Taking the same whip to my wife, or any other woman, will get your head separated from your shoulders.”

The color in Corey’s face drained till he looked whiter than Vanessa and all her powder. “Milord?” His voice was a bare whisper.

Peter ignored the shock and fear in the man’s voice and continued. “You will take this opportunity to leave, because it is a short one. You are only getting it because you did not manage to hit her.”

Corey began to stutter his defense. “But, m–milord, s–she interfered with—”

“
I do not care what it is that she did. No one deserves to be treated like that, with the exception of you.” Peter turned back toward Vanessa, expecting her to be gloating over her victory. He had seen women do it all his life. Every mistress he had had and most of his female acquaintances had all been the same. Well, he would let her know it was not her victory, he would...

Vanessa was not gloating. She was not even there. Peter ran his gaze along the dim interior and found her running her hand along Jackal’s flank. She gently pushed him out of the way and stepped behind him.