Page 49 of The Nightshade's Bride
At first, my prissy little wife had been nothing more than a source of wicked amusement for me, to see how easily I could get her to split those creamy little thighs. And how fun it was to force those thighs open when she was acting like a brat.
But suddenly, the idea that she wouldn't be at home with me was unendurable.
I could not make myself leave the village, pacing back and forth along the streets of St. Mary’s all day.
When night fell, I went to the tiny tavern in town and fucked the barmaid there to relieve my aching prick so I could think carefully.
Pretend you’re my wife, I had told her grimly.Pretend you’re carrying my child.
Balls drained, my thoughts now focused on the monk who had lied so boldly to me. He knew where Deliverance was and, if the Bishop wouldn’t help, I would search the grounds myself or wait at his home.
After half an hour or so of pacing, I tied up my horse and carefully walked around the Abbey borders. They were extensive, comprising many large buildings, a few fields, & woods.
Deliverancemustbe in there. If they wouldn't bring her to me, I'd find her myself and drag her home.
When I found a portion of the fence that was less well-maintained, I was able to break one of the locks and force my way inside.
Keeping carefully to the edges of buildings, I made my way to Bartholomew's cottage. I couldn't shake the impression that she had been there.
When no one answered my knock, I put my shoulder to the door and shoved inside.
The rooms were dark but warm, embers still smoldering in the fireplace. I examined the small kitchen area impatiently, irritated to remember how the monk had spoken to me.
Is that what Deliverance wanted? A smarmy prattling holy man? Well, it didn’t matter what she wanted. She was coming home with me.
I knocked aside the pots on the stove, slopping stew on the flagstones.
Then I saw it.
One single strand of hair, as golden and shiny as a new coin, floating, flyaway, one end caught on one of the gnarled old stones.
Deliverance was here.
Had she been hiding from me when I searched the room? Close enough to seize and drag her home, if I'd only known?
I kicked at a kitchen chair, ripping the legs off it with my bare hands, rage coating my eyes with a heavy film.
"Get out!" I heard a voice call from behind me.
And Bartholomew was there with a sharp hay fork pointed directly at my throat.
"My lord, you need to leave," he said in a steady voice.
I loomed over him with my greater height, stepping forward and forcing the other man to make a choice between backing up or stabbing me in the throat.
He backed up.
"My lord?" I mocked, watching the brother closely. "Why don't you say what you really mean? Haven't you been listening to my wife's hysterics?The cruel husband. Thebrute."
"Go and repent of your sins," Bartholomew retorted steadily.
Had my wife been in his room all night?
"What about you? Deliverance is a very beautiful woman. You're telling me you didn't get the urge to grip your prick when she fell into your arms?" I spat.
Spots of high red appeared on his smooth cheeks.
"To a man like you, maybe, women are just wet holes.Ihelped Deliverance because she's good and kind."
