Chapter Thirty-Two #3
Foiled, Dane tried to maintain his superior stance. “I am always right, Trenton. You would not get anywhere without me.”
Trenton, a head taller than Dane and thirty pounds heavier, put his hands on his hips in a gesture reminiscent of his father.
“Then tell me, Oh Keeper of the Brain. How are we to get to Mt. Holyoak? Walk?”
Dane smiled smugly. “Hardly. Come on.”
It was only at supper that eve that the earl realized he had not seen Dane since the morning. Trenton, for that matter, but he wasn’t overly concerned. Only when de Norville returned from a search of the keep saying that the boys were naught to be found did he begin to worry.
Good Christ, Gaston would have his hide if Stoneley succeeded in not only capturing Remington, but young Dane as well.
*
Guy and Remington rode the rest of the night and all day, without stopping.
Remington thought she fainted, twice, but she couldn’t be sure.
Mayhap she had only fallen asleep, because she was so damn tired she could hardly think.
Yet one thought occupied her horror-glazed mind continuously; she was in Guy’s clutches.
He held her tightly, not a word spoken between them. Remington was literally sick; she knew he was going to kill her, without a doubt. The only question was when.
Toward sunset that day, Guy finally reined the frothing steed to a halt. He did not bother to help Remington from the horse; he merely tossed her onto the ground and dismounted. While she struggled to stand, he led the horse to a small stream to water it.
Remington wildly considered running, but she had no idea where she was or where she would go. Moreover, Guy would simply catch her and use it as an excuse to beat her silly.
She gazed at his taut back as he watered the animal, wrestling with her disbelief.
She still could hardly grasp the very fact that he had captured her right from under Gaston’s nose.
It was enough to bring horrified tears to her eyes, tears she quickly dashed away. She would not let him see her fear.
“By now your lover should be on his way,” Guy commented, gazing off across the rolling fields. “Lord, it’s been a long time since I have seen these sights. I never knew I would miss the smell of grass or the stench of an opossum.”
Remington did not say anything; she was too terrified to reply. Guy looked up from the horse, his ice-blue eyes focusing on her. “You look quite delicious, Remi. De Russe spares no expense on you, does he?”
She did not know what to say, keeping her head down and her eyes averted.
Guy let go of the reins and stalked toward her.
Remington could feel him coming closer and her breathing quickened, all of the terror in her heart rushing to her veins and causing her to shake violently.
She heard his footfalls on the grass like crashing boulders, deafening to her ears.
When his hand reached out to touch her face, she nearly fainted with fright.
He felt her sway and grabbed her by the hair. “No, you do not. You will not shy from me. It has been far too long since I have seen you or tasted you, Remi. You shall not back away.”
Sharp little pants came to her lips, cries of fear, but she bit them back. With every breath, it was more and more difficult.
Guy’s grip on her hair softened and he began stroking her hair, touching her shoulder. His expression was almost loving.
“Tell me, sweet. Was de Russe as good a lover as I? Was he as tender, or as fulfilling? You can be honest.”
She knew her honestly would most likely bring severe injury. “No, Guy, he wasn’t,” her lips were quivering, her eyes filling with tears.
“Tell me the truth,” Guy purred, his hands gently touching her shoulders. “I want to know.”
“I told you,” she whispered, his touch bringing bile to her throat.
Guy massaged her shoulders, smelled her hair. Remington wished she would die.
“You look even better than I remembered,” Guy whispered against her ear. “Your body is fuller and more luscious. I think I would like to taste you, sweet.”
She did cringe from him then. “No, Guy. You…’tis my woman’s time.”
He was upon her in a minute. “What does that matter to me? Spread your cloak. I will have you now.”
The tears came. She took a step back, attempting to refuse, but he grabbed her wrists roughly, even as he tore her cloak from her shoulders and threw it on the ground. Remington began to struggle, fighting him with every ounce of strength she possessed, until he hit her and knocked her cold.
When she came to, it was upon her damp cloak with Guy standing several feet away, eating something she could not see.
His back was to her and he didn’t seem particularly interested in her.
Having no idea how long she had been unconscious, or what had transpired during that time, she realized she didn’t want to know any of it.
All of this, this hell she was forced to endure, was more horrific than anything she could have imagined.
Closing her eyes, she feigned unconsciousness for the rest of the night.