SeductivePersuasion

by Frances Stockton

  “She speaks the truth,” Andrew added in her defense.

  The jester and the minstrel pulled long, sharp daggers from their scabbards. Andrew and others stepped forward to protect the women of the village. Aisley turned away and rushed to the cage.

  Realizing she shouldn’t have spoken so harshly to Sedgewick, Aisley tried reason. “Please sir, please free this child and let me take care of her,” she urged and reached for the door.

  “Step away anon! That child is not what you think. She is eight with the mind of a babe. There is nothing that you can do to change that. She has been in my charge for nigh unto three years. She is clothed and fed. Another man would have left her to die. “

  “It matters not what you say. I beg you to allow me to attend her. I am a healer. I can take care of her.”

  Aisley faced the child, attempting to smile, to soothe as best she could from the slight distance. She would love to trace the girl’s wispy brown hair back behind her ears and wash away the dirt streaked across her plump, round face.

  “You will be all right, sweet angel. Fear no more.” She paid no mind to the rush of voices warning her to stop.

  “Healer, touch what belongs to me and I will make you pay dearly for it,” Sedgewick threatened in a voice so frightening it sent tremors down her spine. “Take your hand from that door or I will cut it off.” The sound of a sword being removed from its scabbard sang close to her ear. From the corner of her eye she saw the stranger raise his arm. She was certain he was about to let the blade slice through her wrist if she didn’t let go of the cage, but she was too frightened to move.

  “Threaten what is mine, knave, and you will face a wrath unlike anything you could comprehend!” A man’s unexpected voice rumbled behind them. The unusual sawing she’d heard from the woods reached her then and she trembled, yet she couldn’t understand why no one else reacted to it.

  Aisley turned slowly and looked about, discovering that the dastard’s sword rested on the ground. A man pressed Sedgewick Haywood to the cage, his big hand wrapped about Haywood’s throat. Belatedly, she noticed how big her savior was and for a moment she couldn’t move or look away.

  Larger and broader than any man she’d seen before, her rescuer towered above Sedgewick. His straight, dark brown hair fell between his shoulders and elbows, looking as soft as fur. There was enough gray light left in the day to reveal his green eyes. Though she knew it was wrong to look right at him, Aisley couldn’t avert her gaze.

  His face was free of beard growth, allowing her to see the sharp arch of his cheekbones, prominent nose, squared chin and wide mouth. Finding herself staring at his full lips, she felt an odd flutter in her belly. There was no doubt that the man was strong, powerful, his bearing so proud she thought he must have been trained as a knight.

  Dressed in the finery of a nobleman, his shoulders were broad, his waist trim. His long, muscular legs were encased in black braies and thigh-high boots. The expanse of his chest was apparent in a silver and blue cote-hardie. Though he’d not given in to gluttony, it amazed her to think such a big man could come upon the villagers without being heard.

  As she stared, soldiers on horseback closed in on the common, joining their lord, who must have arrived on foot.

  Suddenly, Aisley knew who’d come to her rescue. The Earl of Danford maintained a lethal hold upon Sedgewick’s throat, and the rumbling continued, freezing her to the spot.

  Chapter Two

  The Earl tightened his fingers and the blueness creeping into Haywood’s face broke Aisley’s trance. “Nay, milord, I beg of you… do not take his life.”

  She thought Lord Danford had not heard until the set of his jaw eased. “You have been spared.” Without delay, Sedgewick was released and he doubled over, clutching his throat. “What would you have me do to him, my lady?”

  “Milord?” she gasped, startled that he spoke to her.

  “You ask a woman for my punishment?” Haywood rasped.

  “Bow your head and fall to your knees before the Earl of Danford,” her rescuer commanded. Sedgewick Haywood knelt at once, his head bowed.

  All the while she heard a beast’s harsh bawling, creating a fearful respect for whatever animal could emit such a sound. She prayed there wasn’t a wolf in the forest. It could attack a villager or come looking for food if it was hungry.

  “From this point on, you will speak only when addressed,” the Earl warned Haywood.

  Judging the set of the Earl’s massive shoulders and fisted hands, Aisley worried that a simple aye or nay from Sedgewick’s lips would induce the very rage Lord Danford displayed when he’d pressed his foe into the cage. She had no wish to witness a man’s death, so she waited quietly, suddenly aware that the mysterious sawing had ceased.

  “My lady, what would you have me do to this man?” Again, Lord Danford’s deep, gruff voice centered on her and she forgot about wolves. Something about the way he spoke tempted her to stand there and simply listen to him for awhile.

  “I…umm…banish him, jail him, whatever you believe fair,” she said after a moment. “Do not let him take the girl, milord.”

  Haywood looked up in alarm. The Earl glared, silencing Haywood. No one moved as Lord Danford’s gaze came back to Aisley. He studied her for so long she thought he must be looking for bruises. For one breathless moment, she imagined what it would feel like if he caressed the same places with his bare hand. Would his hands be rough like a villager’s, like hers?

  Those same green eyes switched to the cage. The girl began to cry until Lord Danford’s gaze softened and he smiled. His smile faded when he saw the pennies on the ground.

  The villagers remained silent. Haywood trembled. His men had long since retreated to the safety of the crowd. Aisley heard that threatening raspy bawling again. Strangely, it seemed closer, almost beside her.

  Silently, Aisley watched the Earl. The veins in his neck throbbed, yet it was undetectable by the crowd. His full mouth and strong jaw remained firm.

  Ease your worry, I’ll not harm anyone. What you hear is difficult to control when I am angry, Lord Danford whispered. It sounded as though he’d spoken inside her head. Green eyes locked with hers. Soon, little one, you will understand why you can hear me and others cannot. You need not fear it or me.

  “Milord, did you speak to me?”

  “Aisley, are you all right, dear?” Mrs. Jones asked. “The child needs—”

  “Oh my,” Aisley cried, facing the girl. “Forgive me, sweet angel. I want to call you Angelica. Is that all right?”

  Angelica whimpered and the Earl snapped his fingers. “Valiant, ask the men who brought the child for a key to the cage.”

  “Aye, milord.”

  A tall squire, not quite grown into his broad shoulders and large feet, stalked between the villagers until he found the minstrel and jester. Without much protest, the jester gave the key to Valiant.

  “Milord, may I stand?” Haywood asked. “I am Sedgewick Haywood and I wish to speak.”

  “My ears must have deceived me. I could not have heard your voice after having been told to remain silent.” Sedgewick cowered away. “Henceforth you will remove yourself from Danford Village, the manor and the tenant farms spread about my land. Return or should I receive word that you and your troop attempted to defraud any other village or town in England, and I will have you jailed for the remainder of your life. Threaten my lady again and I will have your head. If you understand, nod.”

  Sedgewick nodded.

  “Take him away before I change my mind.” Lord Danford shifted his attention and walked toward Aisley and Valiant, who’d opened the cage.

  Aisley approached Angelica slowly and prayed the girl would stop trembling.

  “I’ll not harm you, Angelica. My name is Aisley. I am a healer. I can help you.” Aisley did not know if Angelica understood, but the child didn’t move as she neared.

  Calmly, she reached out, offering her hand. After a moment, Angelica’s small hand wrapped around Aisley
’s forefinger. “That’s right, you can trust me. The bad man is going away. I’ll not allow him near you again.”

  Aisley lifted Angelica into her arms and discovered that she was heavier than appearances told. It was a relief to know the child had not gone hungry in Sedgewick’s care.

  The Earl’s guardsmen had snuffed the torches of the traveling troop, distracting Aisley from Angelica. Curiously, she watched the guards remove Sedgewick and his men from the common. As Sedgewick and his troop left, he could be heard complaining over his loss of Angelica and warning that they hadn’t seen the last of him.

  Aisley didn’t think it was wise of Sedgewick to make such a comment, but her eyes were drawn to the ground. She was pleased to discover that the soldiers had refused to allow Sedgewick to take the coins.

  “You see, Angelica, Lord Danford sent the bad man away,” Aisley said quietly, hoping the girl would come to fully trust her. “I would like to take care of you now.”

  Aisley didn’t know if Angelica understood, but decided to return to her cottage anyway. Walking slowly, she was unaware of Lord Danford’s approach and started when she found him blocking her way.

  “Oh, I beg your pardon, milord. I’m sorry I didn’t say so before, but I thank you for helping me and Angelica,” she said, nodding to Angelica and the villagers scattered around the common.

  “You have a kind heart, Aisley. It is good to know you like children.” A rather pleasant sort of rumble emanated in his voice when he breathed out, reminding her of the sound a cat made when it was pleased.

  “You are kind to say so, milord.” Graciously, she bowed her head, yielding to his rank.

  “You do not need the formal address. My name is Garrick. Use it at your will.”

  “I dare not.”

  “Why? I fully intend to use your name, Aisley.”

  “How do you know my name? Twice you have said it.”

  “You gave your name to Angelica.”

  “I suppose I did,” she agreed. “Lord Danford, forgive me for not asking first. May I take Angelica to my cottage? I will send word to the manor house on the morrow to inform you how she fares.”

  “You cannot leave just yet, Aisley.” Again his voice rumbled, softening the gruffness of his voice, and a curious pang swelled deep in her womb when the Earl leaned closer. The scent of spices clung to him, tickling her nose and making her mouth water with longing. It smelled warm and sweet and so very familiar, as she recalled her father adding spices to his wine when it tasted too sour. “Place the child in the care of my squire and he will see that my servants have her bathed, fed and clothed. I suspect she’ll sleep long past sunrise.”

  “I suspect so.” Wanting to care for Angelica, Aisley appealed to Lord Danford. “I am a healer. I can examine her for prior injuries or illness. Mayhap I can come with you and calm her if she is scared…” Garrick held up his hand, quieting her.

  “She may be frightened, but she is not ill. Valiant, come and take little Angelica to the manor house,” the Earl said.

  “As you wish it,” Valiant answered at once.

  As the squire reached for Angelica, Aisley noticed that his face was almost too beautiful for a man.

  Regardless of the squire’s attractive face and long, tawny hair, Aisley found the hard, etched lines of Lord Danford’s face more appealing. He made her aware of herself as a woman. Made her long to know him in a way a healer should never hope for with a lord.

  Angelica fussed when Valiant touched her, bringing Aisley’s attention back to the matter at hand. “She’s afraid. She may not trust a man. Please, allow me to go with her, milord.”

  “It will be all right,” Lord Danford insisted. “Valiant will earn her favor.” Valiant offered Angelica a brilliant smile and whispered something that made her grin. “There now, it is as I promised. On my honor, you will see her soon.”

  Reluctant to let go, Aisley allowed Valiant to take Angelica. Without argument, the child hugged her arms about his shoulders, but looked back. “Go with the squire, angel. He’ll protect you.”

  More at ease, Aisley raised her eyes to Lord Danford. Normally, she could stand shoulder to shoulder with the men of the village. With the Earl, the top of her head did not reach his shoulders. Discomforted, she shifted her feet, hoping for something she could not name.

  She waited until Valiant strolled away before speaking. “Why won’t you allow me come to the manor house, milord?”

  “It is for your protection that I send you away. Do not ask me to change my mind in this.”

  “From whom am I in danger?”

  Lord Danford’s lips curled with a barely spoken, “Me.”

  “You would…harm me? You just said that I had nothing to fear…from you,” she stammered, taking a trembling step backward. She prayed a pleasant face did not mask the face of a tyrant.

  Silently, she noted his size, noble arrogance and fierce green eyes. Something in his eyes made her aware of herself as a woman, made her wonder what he saw when he looked at her. She could still smell spice, yet there was something more to his scent, something musky and male that tempted her to ignore his warning and bask in the rich, dark fragrance that emanated from him.

  He smiled, his stance firm, unmovable. “I could no more harm you than I could cease the moon’s glow.”

  “Why am I in danger if I visit the manor long enough to attend Angelica?”

  Swiftly and silently, he moved closer. His huge, calloused finger pressed against her lips, tracing their shape until they parted ever so slightly. Because I would bed you many times before dawn and you’re not ready to accept the consequences that would follow.

  Once, twice, thrice Aisley blinked and drew back. Surely he hadn’t spoken without moving his lips. “Did…did you just speak to me?”

  “Aye, you know I did.”

  Deliberately, she cast her eyes about. Most of the villagers had dispersed and those that lingered were lighting torches. It was dark now and the villagers were far enough away that no one could hear their conversation. “You shouldn’t talk of such things, milord.”

  “I will say whatever I please to you. You now belong to me.”

  Incensed, she started to strike out but he caught her wrist before she slapped his face. Helplessly, pleadingly, she bit her lip and lowered her eyes, bracing herself for his coming wrath.

  She’d almost struck the Earl of Danford. He had the authority to smite her where she stood.

  * * * * *

  Garrick Forrester released Aisley’s wrist and stared at her bowed head. “Anyone who has the courage to raise their hand to me should have the strength to face me.”

  “I cannot look upon you, milord. I have never tried to hit someone.”

  “I am certain you haven’t.” Garrick was well aware that he’d provoked Aisley’s temper and wouldn’t punish her. “Raise your eyes. I’ll not have my woman cowering from me.”

  Aisley lifted her head and her soft brown eyes met his gaze. She was pretty and he liked the tiny freckles dotting her high cheekbones, nose, chin and forehead. Though she was uncommonly tall, she carried herself with grace and dignity. Her dress was functional, but the aged brown linen dulled her beauty. She wore a simple peasant woman’s cap that covered most of her hair, yet strands of wavy fire-red hair fell over her forehead and across cheeks, making him want to sweep the ugly head-covering away just to discover how long it truly he was.

  Here stood the woman Garrick wanted as his countess. Because she’d been able to hear him when he spoke in her mind, she was fated to become his mate. Although most of his kind could communicate with any animal, they could not speak mind-to-mind with anyone other than their mate. Aisley, however, was not ready to learn what he was, and revelations would have to take place gradually.

  “Am I to be punished?” Aisley whispered.

  “There will be none at this time. Still, I would advise against trying to strike me again. You could provoke something you’re unprepared to accept.

  “But
…you are staring, milord.” A pretty flush stole into her cheeks. The moon was rising, the last of the rain clouds scattering, giving enough light to show her freckles and fair skin.

  “You are a lovely woman. I will remember the way the moonlight graced your face until next we meet.”

  “Are you are going away?”

  “I am not leaving the manor, but I have matters to deal with before I can come to you again.”

  Aisley frowned. “I will not let you bed me, no matter who you are.”

  “Ah, little one, I wish that was all I wanted from you.” Garrick leaned forward, drawing in her scent, making it his. He would forever associate almonds with her. “Because of what I’d said earlier, you fear me. You needn’t worry. I’d never lift a hand against you.”

  “Nay,” she objected.

  “You think I’d strike you?”

  “I believe you honorable, milord. Someone dear to me told me so on numerous occasions.”

  Jealousy reared when Garrick realized her thoughts were on another man. “You speak of a man.”

  “Aye, but he is gone now,” she explained, her sadness sounding earnest.

  “The loss of a loved one is difficult. Do you have family here, Aisley?”

  “They are near,” she whispered. She looked as though she would say more, but decided to keep silent. She was sad and trying to hide it from him.

  Garrick breathed in. Her female scent reminded him of why he could not offer her the comfort she needed. The full moon represented further trouble. “I would like nothing more than to comfort, Aisley. If I draw you closer, I may not let you go as I should. Allow one of my men to escort you home.”

  “There is no need, Lord Danford.”

  “Garrick,” he said, irritated.

  “I am made aware of our differences on a daily basis, milord. Speaking your name aloud is not permitted.”

  “I’m granting you permission.” Against his better judgment, Garrick reached out and touched her chin, tilting her head upward. Her lovely mouth softened, the fullness of her lower lip becoming a temptation difficult to resist. Aisley’s lips were made for him to savor in ways he was certain she’d never known before. “Go, Aisley. Sir Brandon Mathews will escort you to your cottage,” he urged, though he hoped she would stay. He wanted her, now, beneath the light of the full moon, regardless of the consequences. Already, the subtle scent of her feminine cycle drew him like a moth to flame, tempting his instinct to claim his mate as was his right by Abcynian law.