‘What is this?’
‘A picnic, dearest,’ he said, placing the tray on the bed.
‘How romantic,’ I said witheringly, and he inclined his head.
‘Indeed, and what I have planned for you afterwards is even more so ...’ he replied with a smug smirk, which made my toes curl in alarm.
Carefully, I sat upand gave the door a quick glance. It was slightly ajar, as if he had given it a half-hearted kick with his boot, and it hadn’t quite shut properly.Should I try to make a run for it?But he was quick, and I doubted I could make it without him catching me, so I picked up one of the sandwiches with a shaky hand. ‘How was your ride?’ I asked conversationally and took a bite.
‘Very pleasant, my love,’ he replied jovially, picking up the other sandwich. ‘I took the path that runs around the perimeter of the castle and which leads to the stream. If you like, we can go for a ride tomorrow. There is room enough on my horse, as I think I told you once before. If I remember correctly, we had stopped on the roadside when we were travelling to Hartmoor.’
I almost choked on my mouthful of sandwich. How odd that he had been thinking of that encounter then too, like he had read my mind.
‘If I had known then what my host was really like, I would not have stepped back into the carriage,’ I replied, unable to resist a barb.
‘Ouch,’ he said with a mock flinch. ‘I was hoping that when I returned, I would find you more amiable. But I see you are still determined to vex me. Very well then.’
He finished his sandwich, brushed the crumbs off his breeches, and picked up the jug of cream. Without warning,he reached across and poured it liberally over my décolletage.
I gasped as the icy cream soaked my cleavage and dripped coldly down my ribcage within the confines of my bodice.
‘W-what are you doing?’
But he simply smiled and pushed me back on the pillow and proceeded to lap at my creamy bosom with relish. I struggled to get up, but he had me pinned with those strong arms of his—how strong they were, I was now finding out. I kicked my legs in desperation. ‘Stop it!’
But he laughed at my puny efforts. ‘Stop? Oh no, I am just getting started.’
He grabbed a handful of raspberries out of the bowl and tucked them one by one into the top of my dress. Then more cream was poured over and, to my shock, he sunk his teeth into the ripe raspberries with a growl. It was a new dress too, pale-green silk with tiny yellow embroidered flowers around the neckline. Max had greatly admired it when I first wore it. But Mr Hart was ruining the flowers entirely with his brutish behaviour. My blood was starting to boil.
‘Mmm, raspberries, cream, and a pert bosom—I think this might be my new favourite dessert,’ he said, raising his head and licking his lips; his mouth and chin were smeared with raspberry juice. ‘But I am being rude. I have notoffered you some.’
‘I do not want any!’
‘Ah, but I see the problem,’ he said, continuing as if I had not spoken. He stared at the fruity mess he’d made on my neckline. ‘Perhaps you would feel more comfortable if you removed your dirty dress. Then we could really have some fun.’ His eyes danced with mischief.
‘No, I think not. I am quite comfortable as I am.’
‘Come now, Felicity. You are not so prim and proper as you make out ... Didn’t you say you are “well versed” in the bedroom?’
I pursed my lips, and he chuckled. ‘So stubborn. I do love your fiery nature. Well, if you will not remove your dress, I will gladly do it for you.’
He placed his hands on either side of my shoulders so he was bracketing me, then lowered his head and tugged at the neckline of my dress with his teeth.Oh Lord!
‘I ... I thought you were going to change your ways. Be a better man for me ...’ I tried to buy myself some time by reasoning with him. But from the guttural sounds he was making in his throat as he twisted his head this way and that like a savage dog, he did not seem to be in a fit state to reason with.
My heart knocked against my ribcage as the material started to slowly rip down the middle, exposing my chemise.With a delighted grunt, he pawed at it eagerly with one hand to expose my breasts. But he was so intent on the prize that he did not notice he had left himself vulnerable, and I was sliding my hand into my pocket.
I brought the letter opener slowly up to Mr Hart’s throat and pressed it in firmly.
‘Stop thatright now!’ I hissed.
The pawing ceased the moment the cold sharp tip jutted against his skin. I felt him swallow, but he did not move, and his hot breath washed in slow waves against my bosom.
‘Let me goor else.’ I agitated the letter opener against his jugular, and he laughed, but nervously.
‘You would not.’
‘Try me,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘I grew up in the country, and I have spent enough time at the Austens’ to know exactly how they cull their pigs. Plus I have enough rage right now not to care what happens to you.’
