As if she suddenly realized the positive prospect of what he suggested, her eyes flashed excitedly, she smiled cattishly, saying, “I knew there was more to you than met the eye. You are slimy, Priest Manner,” she paused, licked her lips. She glanced at him wickedly, and he could tell her covetous desires left unfulfilled too long helped to sway her decision.
Her voice took on a shrill briskness worthy of a leader commanding his warriors into battle. “If you double cross me, you will pay.” The threat laced with an icy frigidness would have frozen the River Gorge, solidified the hint of underlining evilness he always assumed dwelled within Megatha.
Priest Manner stood up. He looked down at Megatha. “I’m not a foolish man. Why do you think I came to you?” he said, careful not to boast and relish in what he considered a major success. “The hour grows late. I must go. There is much to do if we are to succeed.” He turned, about to leave, wanting to hightail it away from the shrew as quickly as possible.
Megatha called out, her tone snappish. “We are not done. Come.”
When he turned around, she patted the bed beside her. He had no choice but to do as she bid. Sucking his mouth dry, he forced himself to go to her.
She lay down, raised her gown, and spread her thighs as an offering to seal their pact.
Megatha’s gaze remained cool. He reminded himself she wasn’t naïve. She appraised him closely, as if she searched his expression for a hint of his true feelings. Everything was at stake now, and not bothering to undress, he unfastened his pants, released his cock, and joined her on the bed.
When she groped his limp penis, indignation sparked in her eyes. She opened her mouth, but before she could lash him with her whip-like condemnation, he crushed his lips to hers, fought the bile rising in his throat. He kissed her hard, ungentle, telling himself it was a means to a lucrative end. Eyes squeezed, he willed his cock to inflate, so he could rut Megatha. Feeling his dick lay shriveled against his thigh, Priest Manner conjured up the necessary image necessary to allow him to do the task required.
A mental picture of Saxby surfaced that made his cock thicken. He slammed his hips forward, began to fuck, he rode her hard, without conscience…repeatedly rammed into Megatha, selfishly plundered with a singular thought in mind.
This was a small price to pay for the reward he knew was to come.
* * * *
The shadowy figured remained concealed in the secret passages leading to Megatha’s room. Careful not to make a peep, curious eyes watched Priest Manner and Megatha. Then the spy turned and fled the scene. There was nothing else to learn.
Chapter 34
The days seemed longer, nights endless without Juden.
With a sigh, Saxby dropped the cloth, needle, and thread to her lap. Unable to resist, her thoughts unconsciously wondered to Juden. Every memory of him flooded her head like a narcotic, demanded attention, until she succumbed and focused on missing him. Only then would the ravenous hunger that left her jittery dissipate. Perhaps, then would she find a measure of relief. Today was no different from yesterday or the numerous days before. No matter how hard she tried, it was always like this when she attempted to focus on something other than Juden. To keep from spending hours longing for Juden, during the day she stayed busy doing menial tasks, even laborious deeds that left her exhausted enough to fall into a deep slumber as soon as her head hit the pillow. He had left her, but he was safe. That was the foremost thought in her mind. It offered her small relief, and in hindsight, she wished he remained. By Oslei, she needed him more than air required to breathe.
She should have trusted Juden, told him everything, and taken a chance he was as decent as she believed. She had not, and regretted letting an opportunity pass to confide in him. Now, she had only herself to blame. Surely, he thought the worse of her, Saxby considered, solemnly reflecting on their last encounter.
The extent of shrewd rudeness she exhibited made anxiety swell inside her. It would serve her right if Juden never talked to her again. With a wave of trepidation, she feared he might not. She had to think Juden was lost to her forever. The thought destroyed something inside her.
The queasiness finally passed, and for a fleeting moment, she convinced herself Juden didn’t hate her. Without doubt, he had reason to, and her continuous faith in Juden refused to allow her to believe that he could harbor harsh feelings toward her. Maybe that was more for her want, then anything. She’d go with it, though, for sanity sake. A peace of mind she hadn’t felt since Juden rode away from Dandelion.
She walked to the balcony and watched the clouds drift leisurely by before she surveyed the land perimeter, the inner bailey of her home that now thrived. Juden was solely responsible for restoring Dandelion to a better state. Rebuilding deteriorating structures, cottage roofs with gaped holes mended, the wall of her home no longer crumpled but stood erect, and fresh water filled the watering hole. Once barren, void of activity, the courtyard had filled with families by mid-afternoon, now that they felt safe to venture close to the dwelling without fear of Megatha.
Men milled about and talked freely, mothers sat in a sewing circle and gossiped idly, while they kept a watchful eye on their children playing nearby.
This is how it should be, Saxby thought as she watched a girl about five years old or younger with a mass of golden curls that bounced around her shoulders when she ran after a ball that rolled, catching it, kicked again, and then chased after it. Saxby watched her a minute, delighted in the innocent play as her stubby legs and long skirt made her run awkwardly, sometimes causing her to topple over and land on her bottom.
A delightful squeal caught her attention. A smile brightened her face as she watched amused as a young boy with a mop of unruly brown hair burst into laughter at something another boy said. Whatever it was, it must have been quite amusing, she surmised, as the dark-haired boy fell to the ground on his back and held his stomach, giggling.
When he looked up toward her, he waved and smiled cheerfully. His grey eyes sparkled with mirth reminding her of Juden. The picture caused something to lodge in her throat. Unconsciously, she hugged her belly, returned the child’s hello with a wave, and rushed back into the room. No sooner than she stepped back into the room a swirl of emotions claimed her ability to breathe, as brute reality reared its head and evaded her head like a heavy fisted blow.
She carried Juden’s babe. A surge of heightened feelings emerged suddenly like a gust of powerful wind. It smacked her hard, threatened to tumble her off balance, as she thought of what that would mean.
Juden may not return and see his child.
Tears stung Saxby’s eyes and one slipped and rolled down her cheek. She wiped it harshly with the back of her hand. She never had been susceptible to frivolous emotions. This was no time to start now. She inhaled and released slowly to force some calm, telling herself not to despair until she knew for sure what the future held.
She would take things one day at a time, face uncertainty with bravado, no matter what happened. She told herself she would have to endure the days, weeks, even years, whatever time passed, and if for nothing else for her child. With or without Juden to make her world whole, she would persevere, because nothing else was acceptable.
The knock on the door was a welcome interruption.
Not sure who to expect, Saxby opened the door to find Carline standing there. Immediately she sensed something was wrong. Before she could ask, Carline validated her thought by hurrying into the room, flopped on the bed, and burst into sobs.
She went to her side. Spoke softly, as a mother would to her child, she said, “What is the matter? What happened?”
Carline wept louder, her entire body trembled as she cried uncontrollably.
“Please, you must talk to me.”
“My husband is going to leave me!” Carline shrieked.
“Faison is enamored with you. Why do you harbor such a ridiculous thought?”
Carline sniffled, dabbed at her eyes with the hem of her gown. “He wi
ll hate me for what I did.”
“I doubt that. Faison seems a reasonable man.”
“By Oslei, why did I do such a horrible thing?” She rocked back and forth nervously. She looked up at Saxby. “When he finds out…” Her voice faltered with emotion. She tried to speak, stammered, and then shook her head and buried her face in her hands. “I don’t deserve Faison. Not after the way I betrayed him.”
Saxby sat down beside her and took her hand in hers. “Tell me what you did and why you feel it was ghastly and unforgiveable.”
Carline stared at her and she saw the fear in her eyes. “I helped Priest Manner to escape.” Something inside her stomach dropped. She could not fathom why Carline would do such a foolish thing. Carline confessed. “I know it was wrong, but he swore he felt remorseful for his actions. He promised me that all he wanted to do was return to the monastery and plead forgiveness to Oslei for his sin. He is a man of Oslei, and I foolishly believed him. Now, I’m not sure he was truthful.”
“Oh, Carline that was not wise.”
“I know. I know.”
Carline began to sob again, fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, her body trembled violently, and witnessed the deep-rooted anguish made her heart sink. She wondered what words to say to provide comfort and soothe her concerns. Carline betrayed her husband, and she knew the consequences of doing something so foolish.
“You have to confide in Faison.”
Carline recoiled as if she’d slapped her. Eyes owlish, stared in disbelief, as if she’d said something horrific. She began to shake her head no vehemently. “I cannot,” she uttered.
Saxby patted her hand. “You must do it immediately before Faison finds out himself, which will make matters worse. Confide in your husband and trust him.”
“No,” said empathically.
Saxby turned stern, saying, “There is no other way to get out of the mess you have made of things. You did it, and now must stand up and correct the wrong you are responsible for, and accept the repercussions. Faison seems a reasonable man, and I’m sure he will not be harsh as you believe.” She prayed.
“You are so brave that I wish I was like you. I want to have faith in others that they are good natured, but I cannot…not even in my own husband who has only showed me he has a kind heart.”
She wanted to tell Carline her trusting nature was newfound. She had not divulged the truth to Juden and the affect was damning. She squeezed her hand affectionately. “If you love your husband you must believe in him. If not, the error could be irreversible.” She preached what she did not practice.
Carline dragged to her feet, as if boulders shackled to her ankles weighted down her legs. She squared her shoulders and met her eyes. She smiled faintly. “Thank you. I’m glad I came to you. I just hope I have the strength to do as you instructed.”
Saxby stood and gave her a hug. “Everything will work out for the best.”
She watched Carline leave hoping Faison would not make a liar out of her. In her heart, she believed he would not, as she wouldn’t believe Juden would surround himself with a man that didn’t have similar traits. Like Juden, she sensed Faison was a good and decent man, and he would handle matters eloquently for Carline’s sake. Just as she wished Juden would forgive her transgressions.
* * * *
Megatha made herself scarce these days, and she had not attended a meal in days, which was fine by Saxby. She enjoyed her absence which made the evening meals flow uneventful, and she could finally relax and speak freely without worrying Megatha dissected her every word to find some offense for which to chide her, and when she could not, there was the vicious attacks against Carline to appease her ugly disposition she wore proudly like a jewel encrusted broach.
Tonight, it was quiet with just herself, Faison, Carline, and Tavian at the table. She glanced at Carline to see how she was fairing. She appeared jittery, understandably so, overall, she believed Carline would confide in Faison and matters handled satisfactorily.
Tavian was a new addition to the dinner since his arrival weeks ago, added an entertaining flair, and kept her focused on the stories he and Faison shared, some about Juden, and she welcomed the distraction even though it was unsettling to look at him sometimes. He remarkably resembled Juden too close for her comfort. Even though she knew Tavian was only a half-sibling to Juden, their mother left her distinguishing marks on both men to the point it was almost like looking at Juden when she observed Tavian too closely. He wasn’t as dark complexioned as Juden, more tan, shorter hair, and slender build, with facial features defined by a structured jaw line, prominent nose, full mouth, and the same exotic slant to his eyes as Juden except his were a cool brown hue and not as intense.
The man was a engaging. He enjoyed a good dialogue that he was responsible for ensuring continued throughout the meal, politely engaging everyone, and as any gentleman, he ensured she and Carline were included in the conversation. When either spoke, Tavian gave them his undivided attention, as if he hung on their every word. She imagined he did well with the women, and comfortably fit into any social setting with ease, as long as the husbands could ignore his innate ability to be appealing on all accounts.
When he leaned closer the simple action from Tavian awakened a yearning for Juden, so familiar were the brothers.
She missed Juden so much.
“Lady Saxby,” Tavian repeated.
Absorbed in her thoughts of Juden, apologetic that she’d missed his comment, she said, “I apologize. My mind must have wandered.”
“I was saying that I had an opportunity to look over your horses and noticed one is about to drop a foal any minute. If you don’t mind, I would like to keep an eye on her because she might have difficulties.”
Hearing this got Saxby’s attention. She rarely visited the stables since Milo’s accident, her guilt wouldn’t allow it, and now she felt contrite hearing Tibby was in trouble. Since the incident, she blamed her horse as much as herself, and not being around the animal helped to minimize the memories of what happened that awful day. Though she only could fault herself, desperately she sought to share the burden of her actions on something unable to dispute her recollection. Of course, it helped to appease nothing but her conscience, in the time following Milo’s misfortune. She looked for anything to ease the weight of culpability that weighed heavy on her shoulders.
Faison must have taken her silence for something else, because he interjected when she didn’t respond to Tavian. “You can trust Tavian if he believes something is wrong. He has a sixth sense with animals and communicates with them in an unnatural way that is extraordinary. You will do well to listen to his advice, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I would be thankful if you would help with Tibby if needed. I appreciate your consideration, Tavian.”
There was a lull in conversation. Carline sat up straight and blurted out. “I helped Priest Manner to escape.”
Tavian lifted his eyebrows and shifted his attention to Faison to see his reaction. Apparently, he realized Carline’s admission was serious, but needed Faison to validate just how much.
Saxby exhaled loudly, relieved Carline told Faison what she did, but she’d hoped she’d wait for a more private moment. Faison looked both astounded and angry. He sat stiffly, and for an extended amount of time said nothing to the point the atmosphere became uncomfortable for everyone in attendance.
“Well, this might be a good time to visit the stables. Shall we?” Tavian offered.
Awaiting Faison’s response, rudely she didn’t immediately respond to Tavian wanting to try to get a reading on where Faison’s thoughts were at, because like Juden the calmness he displayed on the outside didn’t necessarily match his mood. She learned the quieter Juden became the more lethal he appeared.
She glanced at Faison wanting him to say something, calm Carline’s fears, and admittedly, hers as well. If she needed to remain and defend Carline, she would it without hesitation.
It was uncanny, as if he read her
mind, Tavian moved closer and offered his advice. “You can rest assure Carline has nothing to fear from Faison except perhaps a stern lecture, which she rightfully deserves. I think we should leave the two alone.”
Her maternal instincts activated, she watched Faison suspiciously. “I’m not so sure.”
It was an innocent action when Tavian touched her elbow gently, enough it shifted her attention to him. “There is no need for you to defend Carline. Trust me.” Saxby eyed him wondering how did he know?
“I feel your energy and it’s ripe with apprehension.”
“Is it so obvious?”
Tavian looked amused. “You could say such.”
“Meaning?”
“As Faison said earlier, I have a sixth sense, and, ah shall we say extremely perceptive when it comes to animals and humans.”
He was just like Juden. He said things purposely subjective to one’s interpretation. She didn’t like it when Juden did it, and it didn’t set any better with her because it was Tavian being evasive with his responses.
“I don’t mean to be evasive.”
Saxby startled, her bottom lip sagged, and she blinked hard to clear her boggled thoughts. “Can you—how did you know what I was thinking?”
“I’m lucky. Shall we?”
It was against her better judgment, but she allowed Tavian to assist her to stand. She’d prefer to stay behind and see to Carline’s welfare if Tavian hadn’t stolen her complete attention. He hadn’t admitted to such, she had the sneaky suspicion this sixth sense thing was more then he alluded to and she wanted Tavian to validate her belief. She heard rumors of variants unique abilities. Tavian could be a full-blooded vampire, which meant all kind of other unique attributes existed where he was concerned.
“We can discuss your curiosity on our walk to the stables,” he said casually.
This is a revelation, Saxby thought as they strolled toward the entryway. She paused at the door and looked up at Tavian. “If you can…”
Barbour, Carolina - Watch Me, Desire Me (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 21