WitchofArundaleHall

by Jennifer Leeland

  Perry was at the table and Jaimison stood behind him. The men had stopped speaking when she entered the room. Perry’s gaze was filled with lust, even though she noted a slight wariness too.

  She cleared her throat and managed to speak. “Good morning.” She knew her voice sounded cold.

  “I’m sorry I left you this morning,” Perry said. “I wanted to call for Jaimison to cancel our trip to France. We can go to the Arundale estate in Jamaica for a honeymoon—”

  “Mr. Jaimison, will you leave us please?” She said quickly, interrupting her husband’s happy plans.

  Jaimison studied her face and shot a worried glance at Perry. The man knew what she was going to do. What choice did she have? When Jaimison was gone she took a deep breath. “I do not want to cancel my trip to France.”

  There was a long, agonizing silence. Perry’s face blanked. “Your trip.”

  “I must end the curse and to do so I must go to Bayeux.” She wanted him to understand. Already he might have gotten her with child. A child she would never see grow to maturity.

  “To end our connection. Do I understand correctly?” he demanded.

  He did not understand. She twisted her fingers together. “To stop this horrible thing from continuing.”

  “I see. I am a ‘horrible thing’.” He clenched his teeth and rose from the table. “You wish me to believe that you did not enjoy last night?”

  “I wish you would see my point of view. This curse—”

  “This curse is the only reason we are connected at all,” he stated.

  Being stabbed would have hurt less but she had to say the words. “Yes. It is the only reason.”

  The silence seemed to go on for an eternity. Sarah could not speak. She could not move. Once, when her brother’s wife had been particularly cruel, Sarah had wondered if someone could die from pain. Loneliness and rejection were constant companions but Sarah had discovered that a person could keep living. Even when their soul was shattered.

  Like now.

  It hurt to take a breath, but she did it. It was agony to sit down at the table, but she sat. Food tasted like sawdust, but she ate. Numb, she barely registered the breakfast she made herself consume.

  Still he said nothing.

  When she thought he would never speak again, he broke the painful quiet. “I am afraid you are mistaken if you believe that breaking the curse will free you. Divorce is not as easy to obtain as snapping your fingers.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You would refuse to free me?”

  “Marriage affords advantages to me that I am unwilling to give up,” he said smoothly.

  Finally she reached for the one thing that would stiffen her spine—anger. “Advantages?” she snapped.

  His smile was humorless. “I’ve heard it said that a wife can hide a multitude of sins. You don’t think I shall sleep in a cold bed alone, do you?”

  He meant to replace her with some whore? Jealousy and despair warred within her and she fought the desire to tell him everything. But to do what she knew she had to do, she must let him believe she did not want him or need him.

  Or love him.

  When she rose from the table she drew his attention to her and tipped her chin in defiance. “Since we agree that you Claimed me in error, you will do me the courtesy of keeping your hands off me.”

  “Of course,” he said immediately.

  She swept her gaze over him with contempt. “You would say that. Now that it’s far too late,” she twisted her lips in a sneer, “I do not want your company in France. I do not want your company at all.”

  As she whirled around to leave the room he rose quickly and caught her by the arm. “You have no choice in the matter.”

  She stood straight and tall, facing him. “You had best make arrangements to bed elsewhere. I do not want to risk becoming pregnant with an unwanted child.” It gave her little satisfaction to see him wince but she was beyond caring.

  The bleak expression on his face almost made her relent but she remained silent. He had never loved her. In some distant future he loved another, had a child with someone. If he did not like her response, that was no concern of hers.

  But the wrenching in her heart proved the lie of her thoughts. She loved him still. Would always love him. She still smelled of his seed, still throbbed from the loving bruises he’d left, but it was all finished.

  “At least you can be assured that the other animal will not bother you,” he said finally, his voice containing no emotion.

  She snorted. “What difference does that make? Him or you or some other beast, what does it matter? I am from the right bloodline and that’s all that seems to concern any of you. I might as well fuck him as you.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. She had tried to hurt him and succeeded but even she knew there was a cost. At her vulgar words he whipped out his hand and grabbed her arm. She struggled uselessly as he yanked her against him.

  He thrust his face into hers. “You will never fuck anyone but me.”

  One thing she’d learned from having older brothers served her now. She lifted her knee and viciously jammed it into his genitals.

  His gasp was followed by his abrupt release of her arm. He bent over, clearly in pain.

  For a moment she wanted to reach out, to apologize. But then she came to her senses. Instead she gave him a parting shot. “I’ll kill you if you try to come to my bed. I swear it.”

  It felt as if she were burning her own house down, but she was past hoping for anything. As she left the room she thought destruction was the only thing she was good at anyway.

  As Perry gasped for air, his hands cupping his throbbing balls, he cursed his stupidity. Out of hurt and frustration he had lashed out and tried to hurt her back. A blind man could see it pained her to reject him. But he’d let his pride color his words and only caused more distance between them.

  He limped to the bell and called for the butler. When the man appeared Perry was finally able to stand upright. “Will you ask Jaimison to meet me in the library?”

  Jaimison raised an eyebrow as Perry came into the room favoring one side to keep from jarring his sore cock. “I take it things with Sarah went badly.”

  Perry snorted. “Worse than I could have believed.”

  “You’ve met her brother,” Jaimison pointed out. “My research showed that the other one is just as bad and married to a jealous woman. She hasn’t had the easiest life.”

  “I don’t blame her for anything, Jaimison.” Perry took a deep breath. “She’s obsessed with ending the curse and getting as far from me as possible.”

  Jaimison shook his head in sympathy. “Madame has given you letters of introduction to some connections in Bayeux. It is the only way we can access the Bayeux Monastery to view the scrolls.” He handed Perry a packet of papers.

  “She believes that any children we have will die,” Perry said. “But she was told everything about us by Lady North.”

  The woman had obviously sent another wolf to attack Sarah. It was clear that Lady North knew much more about the DeFalk legacy than she had revealed.

  “You think she’ll try to stop you in France, don’t you?” Jaimison had lines on his forehead and around his mouth. The man was worried about Perry. Did everyone think he was helpless?

  Perry nodded. “I do. For some reason Lady North doesn’t want Sarah to succeed.”

  “So that means we do.” Jaimison nodded. “Are you sure you want me to accompany you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “It should be an interesting trip,” Jaimison said with a smile.

  That smile faded, however, when Perry answered, “Yes, with you minding my very angry wife it certainly shall be worthy of remembrance.”

  Chapter Eight

  Three days passed and Perry received little attention from his wife. She refused to speak to him, using Jaimison as a go-between when she absolutely had to communicate with him. He couldn’t blame her. The beast beneath his skin pressed forward, c
lawing for its mate, desperate for her in a way that defied sense and decorum.

  The cargo ship had been uncomfortable but the trip had been much shorter than Perry had expected. They arrived in Cherbourg and Jaimison obtained a carriage and horses for them. The trip to Bayeux was mostly silent. Jaimison sat next to Sarah, since she acted as if Perry’s touch, however incidental, burned like the hottest hellfire.

  Finally Sarah spoke. “Who is this family Madame de Laval is connected with?” she asked Jaimison.

  Perry, who had had enough of her cold silence, answered her. “They are the du Bussein family, distant relations of yours as well as hers. Apparently your great grandfather had a sister who married an Antoine du Bussein.” He ground his teeth as she continued to stare out the carriage window rather than acknowledge him. “They have a modest estate outside Bayeux.”

  Rather than continue the conversation she sighed and remained silent. Jaimison shook his head. The rest of the ride was concluded without interaction. Perry wasn’t going to take much more. She didn’t know where they were going or where they were lodging for the night.

  On the cargo ship he had respected her wishes and remained in the lower berth with the other men, along with Jaimison. But at an inn where loose talk would draw unwanted attention Perry had no intention of providing gossip. He and Sarah would share a room and she would have to accept it.

  They reached the inn as the sun began to set, and Jaimison opened the carriage door. Perry blocked Sarah’s way and said, “Go on and take our bags. We will follow. Tell them she is sleeping and will come out in due time.”

  Jaimison nodded and shut the carriage door. Perry met Sarah’s furious gaze. “You will have to modify your behavior if you want to see the scrolls.”

  She glared at him and crossed her arms, refusing to speak to him. He clenched his fists and continued in what he hoped was a reasonable tone. “The Bishop of Bayeux is reputed to be a man of high morals and he guards the scrolls in his keeping with vigilance. If you wish to see them he must believe that we are what we say we are.”

  “What do you mean?” she said sharply.

  “Newly wedded. On our honeymoon. Fucking.” He studied her face and watched the fleeting emotions that flickered in her gaze.

  “No.” Her tone was firm.

  “Yes.” Perry reached over and gripped her arm. He yanked her toward him. She had every reason to hate him, to reject him, but Perry wasn’t rational about her.

  Her breath was warm on his face as she snapped at him. “Take your hands off me.”

  Did she think he couldn’t smell her? She wanted him even as she hated him. “If you wish to end the curse, you have to pretend to be happily married. To me.”

  “Your wits are addled if you think you can manhandle me like this.” Her words might have convinced him if her breath hadn’t caught and her lips hadn’t trembled. She glared at him. “I will not play-act for you.”

  He cupped her neck and drew her closer. “Good. Don’t.” He gave her no more opportunity to speak but covered her mouth with his and reveled in the way she melted under his touch.

  The beast within slipped its leash and growled, surging to the forefront. Perry struggled for control, desperately trying to stop. But the wolf would not be denied. Without ceremony Perry, under the influence of his curse, yanked up Sarah’s skirts, ripped her undergarments to expose her sex and tore open his breeches.

  She had no idea the danger she was in and clutched his arms to keep her steady. In a heartbeat Perry was at the entrance to her pussy, ready to drive inside her with no regard for her pleasure or her emotions. It was a near thing and he hung on to his control with a tenuous hold.

  Sarah squirmed beneath him, her sweet response tickling his crown. He groaned. “Hold still,” he demanded.

  “Please, Perry,” she whispered.

  He closed his eyes. “I know, my love.”

  It took a tremendous effort but he managed to drag himself back. The wolf howled and he moaned from the deprivation.

  Gently, as he eased away from her, he kissed her cheeks then her mouth. He was almost gone from her when she wiggled closer, driving him nearer to her entrance, now hot and slick. The sensation was too much and he lost his mind completely.

  Frantically he touched her, one hand pushing down the neckline of her gown, the other twisted in her hair. His kiss, at first a soothing thing, now demanded the passionate response her cunt had already given.

  She arched her back and thrust against him, a frenetic rhythm that caught him off guard. Before he could react he was inside her, the snug walls of her pussy squeezing him.

  “Sarah,” he said, his throat hurting from the effort. “Are you sure you want this?”

  In answer to his question she clamped her thighs around his hips and drove him deeper until his balls slammed against her arse. His release rushed through him and it was too late to stop. He was vaguely aware that she screamed as he lost control and released violently in her slick channel.

  A fierce satisfaction roared through him. She belonged to him. Her denial of that fact meant nothing.

  He enjoyed that moment briefly. When she finally opened her eyes the stricken expression robbed him of any good feelings. Before he could stop her she tore away from him and scrambled to the corner of the carriage.

  Tears filled her eyes and her hand covered her mouth. With desperate movements, she tried to rearrange her skirts and her hair. Then, with a muffled sob, she stumbled out the carriage door.

  Perry still hadn’t moved.

  Of course she responded to his brutal demands. After all, she was descended from the right people, the right family to be with a beast like him. Who he was did not matter. As she had said, any wolf would do. But she was ashamed to be with him. When would he learn to accept that this curse would only destroy him and those in his life?

  He shouldn’t have touched her. Though she’d responded to him, he had taken her like an animal rather than a man. He owed her more than stolen moments in a carriage. It would take time but he would convince her that their connection was more important than the curse that inexplicably bound them.

  * * * * *

  How could he look so calm? Sarah shot a furtive glance toward Perry. He spoke to the innkeeper and handed her valise, which she’d forgotten in her haste, to the footman. Jaimison had already arranged their rooms. Two of them. And she would be in the one with her husband.

  He was right. She had to pretend she was a newly wedded bride happily in love with her husband. But the act was beyond her. Instead she stood quietly, hiding in the background, a talent she had learned as maidservant.

  “Yes, we’ve come to visit our distant relations,” Perry said in a falsely hearty voice. “I’ve heard the Bayeux Monastery is worth seeing as well.”

  “Yes, indeed, Mr. Arundale,” the innkeeper said. “The bishop is a welcoming man, despite rumors to the contrary.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Perry took her arm gently and led her indoors.

  The inn was clean and bright, with windows all along the southern wall. The stairs were solid and firm, indicating the structure’s soundness, which was reassuring. Sarah had never been to France and had not heard much to its credit. Though she’d learned to speak and understand French she’d never had the occasion to use it.

  Now she realized Perry had spoken to the innkeeper as if she could not speak the language. It irritated her. So much so that when the footman brought her valise up the stairs Sarah felt the need to show she was not helpless.

  “Please put the valise there,” she said, and pointed to the chair in the corner.

  The man showed no reaction and placed her bag where she indicated. When he left she met Perry’s amused gaze. “Your French is impeccable.”

  “I was given some advantages,” she said haughtily. What was wrong with her? She was spoiling for a fight even though she knew that led to passionate explosions such as the one in the carriage. Maybe because of that. She pressed her lips togeth
er.

  Perry towered over her and moved a stray curl of her hair from her face to behind her ear. She shuddered, unable to control her response to his touch. “One day, when I take you, I will demand that you speak to me only in French. I hadn’t thought the language had any merit until I heard you speak it.”

  “You could ask Madame de Laval. It’s her native tongue. She would not stumble as I do.” She heard the sharp tone of her voice and despaired. Would she never be able to behave around him?

  He touched her lips with his fingers. “I only want your mouth.”

  She backed away, her back flat against the wall. “No. You can, of course, force me, but I beg you to leave me alone.”

  There wasn’t a flicker of amusement in his face. “I don’t think I can. You have tried to wound me with words, rejected me in every way possible except for this.” He touched her lips with his. “When I touch you the truth is revealed.”

  She forced herself to remain still. “What truth? That there is some magic that binds my body to you? That is not me. My body may want you because it was made to do so, but that is not truth. That is only the curse.”

  Her words seemed to stop him. They didn’t hurt him as she’d hoped. He seemed…curious. “You believe we have nothing in common but this physical connection?”

  For her? No. But she knew him, had observed him for three years as he was lost in the bottle. He knew nothing about her, about what made her the way she had become. “I do believe that. If not for this curse and our ancestors, you would have had nothing to do with me.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Could you have loved me if not for the curse?”

  That was a loaded question and she wasn’t going to answer it. Not honestly anyway. “I would never have met you.”

  The heat from Perry’s body seeped into hers and she longed to put her arms around his neck and be held in his arms. There was a dangerous comfort there, an easy shelter that frightened her with its rightness.

  For her, he was everything she wanted. He was brave, empathetic and loving, even when he was in despair. She knew him and loved him, faults and all.