SeductivePersuasion

by Frances Stockton

  Mayhap the meal would make her forget the moments she’d spent in Garrick’s arms. She’d repeated her bath upon his departure last eve, yet his scent, his taste, his very touch had marked her. As much as she had scrubbed, she could not remove him from her memory.

  She refused to admit how much she wished things could have been different. Were she highborn, she’d have agreed to marry him after a proper courtship. Of course, there was the matter of his marriages and his unfaithfulness with his wives frightened her almost as much as some of his strange abilities. She knew many married men kept lemans and bedded other women. But she didn’t like the idea of Garrick going to another woman for his marital pleasures. If his noble wives had not held his interest, what chance did a simple healer have?

  Strangely, the villagers had the tendency to gossip about the Earl. Some said he was reclusive, even her father had said Lord Danford was a secretive man. Others said that England’s war with France had kept him from staying in the manor house for any length of time, giving him reason to remain distant from the villagers and tenants. But she’d never heard anyone speak of his wives.

  “How dare you sit and eat as if you haven’t ruined my life?” Sedgewick Haywood’s unexpected voice startled her.

  “I ruined no one’s life,” she replied. Lifting her head, she faced him. “I helped a child. She is safe now and treated well.”

  “Do you know what you cost me? That girl was unlike others of her age, why would you defend such a creature?”

  “I defend her because she is not a werewolf’s babe.”

  “She is afflicted.”

  Angry, she pushed back from the table, “She is eight and likes to laugh and play. In this, she is no different than any other child.”

  “You defend her, but I see she is not with you.”

  “She is under the guardianship of the Earl of Danford.”

  “He’ll only turn her over to a convent when he is able.”

  “He would never do such a thing!” Aisley shouted.

  “My, my, healer,” Sedgewick snickered. “You’re defending him, yet you are alone. He did seem most taken with you that night. Has he turned to another leman so soon after leaving your bed? Don’t you know that noblemen take any woman they desire? You were just one of many.”

  “How dare you?” Unable to remain in place, Aisley rose. “Lord Danford is an honorable man. Please, leave now so I may finish my meal in peace.”

  Sedgewick laughed, seeming about to grab her when another man stepped in his path.

  “Pardon, I cannot allow you to harm the lady,” the stranger said.

  “This is none of your concern, sirrah,” Sedgewick rebuked, shifting to the side.

  “It would be wise to avoid disrespectful address with a man you do not know,” the other man warned. His voice sounded learned, but something about him troubled her.

  Not quite as tall as Garrick, the new arrival’s robust frame commanded notice nonetheless. He was handsome, with Norman-styled flaxen hair and keen blue eyes, but she didn’t like him.

  Slowly, she looked about the tavern. Serving women stared at the well-dressed man with a longing she’d only felt in the presence of Garrick. Men looked at him as if awestruck.

  “My dealings with this woman are not your concern,” Sedgewick said.

  “By shouting, you’ve invited all in this room to share in your concern.”

  The stranger wore a russet coat, a gray underrobe and sash and soled hose that marked him as a wealthy merchant or journeyman of some means.

  “Who are you to interfere?” Haywood asked.

  “Brewster, John Brewster. I interfere because this lady has asked you to leave. A gentleman can do nothing less than obey a woman’s wishes.”

  Uncertain what to do, Aisley reclaimed her seat and stared at her food. Something about Brewster made her uncomfortable and she suddenly wished Lord Danford would come and protect her from these men. She didn’t like Sedgewick and she didn’t trust John Brewster.

  Before rebuking herself for making such a foolish wish, she heard a distant rumble in her mind. A breath later, the rumble became Sir Knight’s sawing roar and it was growing louder, keeping her from hearing Sedgewick’s argument.

  At last, Sedgewick withdrew, but Brewster remained. The leopard’s sawing became stronger, more menacing, hurting her ears.

  “Tell me he did not harm you,” Brewster said.

  “He did not, milord. You’ve my thanks for coming to my aid.”

  “My duties as a physician would never permit me to allow a man to harm a lady.”

  “You are a physician?”

  “Aye, I have journeyed to these parts to seek a position in the Earl of Danford’s household. I’m told Danford is not far from Fernley. Would you direct me to where I might go?”

  “You have traveled for nothing. Lord Danford has a physician. Nonetheless, I do not think you are what you claim.”

  Aisley, hear me now, leave the tavern anon. Garrick Forrester’s voice overrode the leopard’s sawing. Like the night they’d met, it was spoken in her head. The man before you cannot prevent your passage, nor can he remain without your permission. Should he request anything of you, deny him.

  Immediately, Aisley pushed her food aside. “Pardon, milord, I’m no longer hungry. If you will step aside, I shall be on my way.”

  “Wait,” Brewster demanded when she tried stand. “You were right. I am a journeyman seeking work in Danford. Do not let my lie chase you from a meal. Might I sit with you for a little while? Travel has been long and your company would ease the burden.”

  “I am sorry for your troubles, but I am betrothed to the Earl of Danford. He would be angry if I allow you to sit here.”

  Fury flared in John Brewster’s eyes and Aisley shivered against the chill that crept over her skin. Do not look at him. Go now, Aisley. He cannot stop you. Aisley obeyed and turned away.

  Aisley walked less than a cubit before the tavern door slammed open and the Earl of Danford marched into the center of the room. His squire, a knight and a large, broad tawny-haired Viking of a man flanked him.

  “Leave this place,” Lord Danford commanded John Brewster. His vivid eyes trained on the stranger and Aisley feared the Earl might kill him. “Or face the consequences of approaching what belongs to me.”

  John Brewster turned about on his heal. “Are you threatening an unarmed man? I’ve done nothing other than assist a lady, milord,” he said.

  Garrick’s right hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. Aisley used the distraction to press herself against a wall. The crowd had grown restless, certain they were to witness a skirmish, or worse.

  With all eyes on the stranger, and Garrick preoccupied, she was able to make her way to the still open door. Once there, she bolted, fearing retribution when Garrick finished dealing with John Brewster and came after her. She knew he would and she fled into the forest, both fearing and hoping he would catch her.

  * * * * *

  “Milord, Aisley has flown,” Valiant warned.

  “The further she is from here, the safer she will be, Valiant. Let her go.”

  “I can stop her.”

  Reluctant to take his eyes from his enemy, Garrick spoke to his squire. “Follow her and see that she remains unharmed. Do not touch her. She’s mine.”

  “Aye, milord,” Valiant agreed and left.

  “Leave here at once,” Garrick warned Zotikos, the very man who’d tricked the people in the tavern into believing that he was John Brewster, a wealthy man. Garrick wasn’t certain who Zotikos was portraying himself to be, though he was familiar enough with the Saturian to know he could steal a man’s soul if he was permitted.

  “I’d rather stay,” Zotikos said and walked over to an empty table. Two servants approached and rested their hands on his shoulders. “The daughters of the tavern’s owner are rather fond of me,” he boasted to the crowd at large, causing the women to giggle and squirm. “Am I permitted to stay, lovelies?”

  �
��Aye, milord,” one of the girls said.

  Zotikos had gained permission to remain in the tavern. Looking around the room, Garrick asked, “Where is the owner of this place?”

  “Here, milord,” a burly, red-faced man answered, stepping forward. “I implore you not to spill blood within my meager establishment. It is my only means.”

  “There will be no bloodshed,” Garrick promised. He wished Zotikos was outside and away from the tavern’s protection. Unfortunately only the owner could make Zotikos leave at the moment. “It would be advisable for you to ask this man to leave. Your daughters are not safe with him.”

  “I’ve done nothing to them,” Zotikos said.

  Garrick cast his eyes on the tavern owner. “This is my last warning.”

  “Leave be,” Zotikos decided. “I do not wish to cause trouble for these fine people. My lovelies, I bid you farewell. Mayhap I shall return in a day or two.”

  Garrick held fast, knowing Brandon and Lucien were behind him. Zotikos whispered to the ladies as he moved, causing them to glare at Garrick and his men for ordering the Saturian to leave.

  The people in the tavern could resent Garrick as much as they liked. They did not realize the ill Zotikos could bring upon them should they view him for what he was. A master at deceit, the man they knew as John Brewster appeared a gentleman of means and privilege. In truth, he was a man made ugly by the evil he embraced.

  As he went by the tavern owner, Zotikos halted and tucked his hand into his coat, revealing a small purse. “For your troubles, Burkett,” he offered, lining the other man’s palm with coins.

  Once Zotikos departed, Burkett pocketed the money.

  “Lucien, you know what to do,” Garrick whispered. “I would go after Zotikos myself, but I must find Aisley. She is my priority now.”

  “I’ll look for him,” Lucien said, storming off. “Go and secure your mate.”

  Garrick remained in the tavern for as long as he could stand. Aisley was running fast, but he had her scent and could track her easily. With Lucien overseeing Zotikos’ departure, he could concentrate on securing his mate.

  He’d vowed the night before that Aisley would be his betrothed by sunset. The sun was beginning to wane. Relying on the leopard’s instincts, he followed his mate’s almond scent and gave chase, intent upon catching her.

  Chapter Seven

  Aisley ran so hard and fast she feared her lungs would burst. Once she’d had to stop when a branch snagged her simple cap and she tore the dreadful scrap of fabric from her head in her effort to be free. But her sides ached, forcing her to slow down. In her hesitation, she looked back and stumbled.

  Aisley, I can feel your heart pounding. Do not flee anymore. I’ll not harm you. Hold where you are.

  Alarmed by how close Lord Danford sounded, she righted herself and fled. If she tried she just might elude capture.

  You cannot escape me. I’m a hunter, little one. I have your scent. Finding you in this forest is just a matter of time. Rest now and I will come to you.

  Despite the need to press on, Aisley stopped long enough to look about. She saw nothing in the bushes or in the trees above. Oddly she thought she heard Sir Knight rumbling again.

  You reached for me in the tavern, Aisley. Reach for me again.

  Leave me be! I’ve refused you, milord. I think it best for you to return to your duties.

  You haven’t the right to refuse me! I am the Earl of Danford. You cannot escape being mine.

  You…you would force me to marry you?

  It is not my wish. But aye, I would force you if you do not heed my word. Cease this behavior and accept your fate as my countess. I’d much rather enjoy our betrothal than spar with you. I’ve seen enough war in my time, Aisley. Let us call a truce and talk.

  We are not at war.

  I suppose that’s true. You are at war with yourself.

  Finding it difficult to breathe, Aisley realized how much she needed the rest. Her lungs still burned and her sides ached. To remain upright, she braced herself against a tree and drew a deep breath. Looking around, she belatedly discovered she’d been heading toward Danford.

  Aisley, speak to me.

  She would not respond. She wouldn’t! All she needed to do was change her path. Returning to Danford would be a mistake. If she went back, the Earl would command her to be his wife and she’d never be able to leave. Even though she knew this to be true, she couldn’t ignore the fact that part of her wanted to make a home with Garrick Forrester.

  Why do you believe it would be a mistake?

  That is not fair. I did not give my thoughts to you.

  Aye, you did. You’ve revealed much to me. I know why you’ve fled, Aisley.

  You know nothing.

  If you really wanted to leave me, you wouldn’t have stopped in Fernley. You knew I would come after you and gave me the chance to find you. It is all right. I’m not like any man you’ve known. I can do things that frighten you. I understand your fears. Allow me to take you home so I may ease them.

  Nay, nay, I want nothing to do with you.

  Aye you do, you want to be my wife, Aisley. I felt it in your kiss. Admit it to me, to yourself and we shall work through our differences.

  You’re wrong! Leave me be.

  Aisley pushed away from the tree. She could sense Garrick nearing even as Sir Knight’s displeasure faded.

  At that moment, Garrick Forrester, the Earl of Danford, stepped around a tree a short distance before her. She had not heard footsteps nor witnessed disturbance within the forest. He must have made his way ahead of her and waited.

  “Mayhap it is time to tell you that the leopard is always closer than you think, Aisley,” Garrick said. Folding his powerful arms low across his chest, he leaned back against the tree when she started to retreat. “You must cease this behavior, little one. Fate decreed that you would be mine and I intend to honor you as my mate.”

  “That cannot be. I’m not highborn.” Regardless of his warning, Aisley propelled herself backward, keeping her eyes on him. “Go away, it’s for the best. Just being near me can bring trouble for you, milord. Don’t you realize that?”

  “I see. You’ve tried to escape because you’re worried about me.” Garrick pursued her slowly, silently, his patience making her feel as if she were being stalked by Sir Knight.

  “Aye, if you must know. I’m a healer with red hair, freckles and a birthmark. These are not the traits of a countess.”

  “On the contrary, you are lovely in face and form. You will make a fine countess.”

  “That’s not what I meant. The villagers heard Sedgewick Haywood call me a witch. They didn’t believe him, but what if he takes his tales elsewhere? If I give in and become your leman, you could be tainted by the same lie.”

  Still backing away, she didn’t notice her foot was surrounded by ivy and she tripped. In a thrice, Garrick’s arms were about her waist.

  “You will never be my leman. You are Aisley Reeves, soon to be Lady Danford.”

  “Nay,” she denied, struggling anew.

  “Aye,” he said.

  He slackened his grip, giving her a chance to free her foot. Taking advantage, she elbowed his ribs, breaking free long enough to stumble over the same patch of ivy. In his urgency to keep her from falling too hard, Garrick tumbled with her. Landing face down in a bed of ivy and leaves, she gasped when his full weight covered her, pressing her further into the earth. She was caught and a wicked spark of temptation heated deep within her womb. Fighting with whatever strength she had left, she arched, trying to be free. But she only made matters worse by inviting him to nip her neck.

  * * * * *

  Aisley, cease this! Garrick struggled to keep most of his weight off Aisley while she fought. She wasn’t a weak woman and he finally managed to keep her still by using his teeth. He didn’t hurt her, though if she continued to fight, he might be compelled to leave his mark. I don’t want to hurt you. Be still, woman.

  She fought harder, scra
tching at the earth and pushing her backside upward in an effort to unseat him. He was already as hard as a battering ram at the feel of her soft, warm curves and thrusts. The taste of her skin was on his tongue and her thrusts made him want nothing more than to shove her skirts out of his way and take what was his by Abcynian law.

  He wanted her like this, he discovered. He wanted to bury himself in her sweet, tight sheath from behind and take her over and over until he was spent and his seed filled her womb. Thrusting back, he pushed her hips down, holding her thighs between his.

  “Let me go,” she muttered into the leaves, shifting her hips. His incessant hardness pressing against her buttocks caused her to stop and gasp. “Nay, Garrick, don’t take me like this. Not by force.”

  Furious, Garrick gave her room to flip over to her back, and then straddled her legs to keep her from kicking. “Nothing would ever cause me to take you by force. If you think me capable of such a thing, you’re not the woman I thought.”

  “I don’t know who you thought I was. I’m a simple woman, nothing more.”

  Enjoying their position, he studied her pretty face, flushed by exertion. Her lips were slightly parted, beckoning attention. His manhood throbbed as her pretty brown eyes softened with feminine need. Her almond scent drifted about them.

  His manhood throbbed almost painfully when she calmed and her eyes drifted to his lips. As much as she wanted to claim otherwise, Aisley was attracted to him. Granted, she was scared and he would have to reassure her, but he would not lose his mate to fear. Right then he vowed that he would gain her favor. It might take awhile, but he would persuade her to trust him.

  “You will never be simple, Aisley. You are mine and you are beautiful,” he said.

  “Gar—” he silenced her with a kiss.

  Aisley’s soft mouth accepted his aggression and parted with a sigh. Velvet smooth and warm, her tongue tangled with his as her hands clamped about his shoulders to bring him closer.

  Shifting, Garrick aligned himself between her thighs. A perfect fit, he noticed. She was neither too small to take him nor too delicate to bear his weight.