Unexpected Pleasures. Mary WineЧитать онлайн книгу.
launched herself at him, clawing at his face while pushing at the floor with all of her strength. Her nails sunk into his skin, drawing warm blood for a moment before a heavy blow landed across her face. Her body twisted with the strength of the strike and she stumbled away from him, trying to keep her footing while turning to glare at him.
“Step aside, sir, for I will not play your game.”
De Canis smiled and chuckled beneath his breath. Gloating sparkled in his eyes while his expression turned mean.
“I’m going to enjoy breaking you.”
He stepped toward her and Justina gathered her strength to fight him. She would not yield to him even if it might save her the pain of being beaten. She preferred the bruises of the flesh to ones on her soul.
But a strangled sound came from him and his foot never touched the floor. Instead he was hauled backward and thrown into the hallway. Justina gained only a glance of the man responsible and it was enough to send a shiver down her back.
She had never seen Synclair so angry. His face was darkened by rage and his hands outstretched as though he planned to rip de Canis apart with his bare hands.
De Canis wasn’t afraid of him, though. He gained his feet and growled at him. “So you want to fight over the meat? I am your man!”
De Canis lunged at Synclair but the knight met him, and flesh connected with flesh. Both were hardened men who knew the art of fighting well. Justina stumbled to the doorway to see them struggling in the tight confines of the narrow hallway. The harsh sounds of struggle filled the stone-lined walls as the two men tried to kill each other. Their bodies strained but the close confines prevented them from doing more than wrestle. Synclair pushed de Canis back, sliding the man’s boots across the floor until they reached the doorway that led to the reception room. With a harsh growl of satisfaction, Synclair threw de Canis into the room, startling the parrot.
The music died abruptly and the assembled guests looked around to discover the cause. De Canis recovered quickly and dove at Synclair with a curse spilling from his lips. The knight drew back his arm and landed a solid punch directly on de Canis’s face that sent the man spinning into the men who rushed forward. They grabbed him, struggling with him when the man tried to continue the fight.
“I’ll see you rotting in an early grave, Harrow! Baron or not, I’m going to rip your throat out with my own hands!” De Canis struggled violently against the arms holding him, rage glittering in his eyes.
“I am your man, de Canis! This world will be well rid of your brand of filth.”
Synclair looked as if he meant to continue the fight, but the Earl of Hertford stepped in front of him, placing a hand flat against his chest. The earl leaned in to whisper something near Synclair’s ear and the assembled guests all leaned forward to attempt to hear what it was.
Synclair snarled at the earl but the man lifted his hand and looked at the musicians.
“Play!” He turned his head and looked at a groom. “Bring the meal!”
There was a scurry as everyone tried to please the earl. He swept the nobles nearest to Synclair with a hard look that sent them all back across the room.
“Francis de Canis, I believe it best if you retire for the evening. It appears that my friends do not please you.”
De Canis shrugged off the men around him and tugged on his doublet to straighten it. His lips curled into a sneer, without a care for the high position of the earl. Being asked to leave was a public set down, one the assembled guests did not miss. Whispers began to ripple through the crowd instantly.
“No, your lordship, I do not care for that one.”
Soft hands cupped her shoulders, startling Justina. An older maid gently pulled her back.
“Come away, ma’am, you have blood upon your lip. It will ruin your gown if we don’t tend to it.”
Still far enough back in the hallway to avoid being seen, Justina saw the wisdom in the maid’s suggestion. She allowed herself to be guided away from where Synclair and the earl spoke in lowered tones. But the stone walls pressed in on her, making her feel as if it were impossible to draw a complete breath. Her lungs burned and she fought against the urge to scream with all of the tension trapped inside her. Every muscle felt tight enough to snap and her blood was rushing so quickly through her veins, keeping to an even pace became impossible.
“I’ll see to it myself, thank you.”
Justina didn’t spare more than a quick glance for the maid. She plucked a piece of cloth that was tucked through the woman’s apron tie before she quickened her pace and turned the corner. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she couldn’t remain inside without going mad.
The corridors were made of thick stone and Justina hurried through them because it felt like they were pressing in on her. She finally made it outside and leaned over a half wall to pull in large breaths to feed her burning lungs. She pressed the fabric to her mouth and felt her eyes widen when it came away stained with crimson. Emotions assaulted her—fear, anger, pain, and too many others to comprehend. The air was bitterly cold and she looked across the yard to see that snow was gently falling. It wasn’t melting now that the sun was sinking on the horizon. Patches of it covered the ground and clung to the leafless branches of the trees.
She cursed, muttering the foulest words her overwhelmed mind might recall.
“My thoughts exactly, Justina.”
She turned in a swirl of brocade skirts to discover Synclair behind her. His face was still darkened by temper and his eyes were narrow with dissatisfaction. But the cloth in her hands drew his attention.
“That bastard bloodied you.”
Justina felt her hand begin shaking and she turned back around to look away from the palace. She felt as if her every muscle was quivering, and was on the verge of either collapsing or running away.
“It shouldn’t matter but I find that I cannot stomach these walls.” Her voice sounded far too needy but she didn’t care; all that mattered was gaining freedom. She saw a reflection of her own desperation in his eyes and she didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought. The sound of horses came around the side of the building and Synclair grinned. It wasn’t a kind expression, but it was a relief from the rage that had transformed his features into a stranger.
A groom led his stallion, the animal more than eager to see his owner.
“Then let us escape, at least for the moment.” He took the reins from the groom and mounted, his body showing all the tension that she herself was battling. He looked down at her and offered his hand.
“Come with me, Justina. The night will give us the solace we seek.”
She didn’t think. Her hand lifted and his fingers closed around her wrist. He lifted her off her feet and she landed in front of him, sitting side saddle with his arms going around her to control the animal.
She didn’t need to think and she didn’t believe that she was capable of it at the moment. All that filled her head was the sound of his voice when he used the word solace.
With his arms around her, Justina was sure that she had found exactly what he had promised her.
She needed to feel the warmth of his body, encasing her while they rode away from the palace and all its worries. The snow drifted down on them but she wasn’t chilled, didn’t shiver with the cold.
CHAPTER THREE
Yet she did shiver.
Her body began to pulse with excitement in a way she had never felt. It surged through her blood, rushing to her head and making her want to giggle like a girl. The air rushed past her cheeks, turning them cold, but she smiled, enjoying the contrast between her face and the rest of her body that was turning hot. In her belly, that excitement brewed, until it was bubbling with need that rose up