Read Online A Knight's Persuasion by Catherine Kean - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catherine Kean
Ads: Link
Mayda’s words shattered on an angry wail. “I never see you. Day and night, you are always gone. Do you think I am a fool, Landon? Do you believe I do not know of the servants’ gossip? Of the rumors you—”
“I told you before. Cease!”
“I will not! I am your wife .”
Weak moonlight, coming through the open doorway leading onto the wall walk, touched the stairs ahead. As though becoming aware of her mother’s nearness, Rosemary warbled.
“I warn you, Mayda. If you do not be quiet—”
The brutal fierceness of Landon’s voice . . . Mere steps away from the open door, Juliana hesitated. A frightened moan scratched her throat, but she forced the sound down. She thrust her finger against Rosemary’s mouth to soothe her hungry snuffles.
“You will not make a fool of me any longer!” Mayda shouted. “I want the truth—”
“Veronique excites me.”
A shuddered gasp. “S-she—?”
“—pleasures me. Whenever I wish. However I wish. Are you happy now, wife? ”
Juliana squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, Mayda. I am sorry . To be rejected with such indifference must be heartbreaking.
Hoarse sobs broke from Mayda, each one swollen with helplessness and rage. The sounds pierced deep inside Juliana, for she’d cried that way after her mother had died. She’d wept until every last tear had dried up, and she’d been too exhausted to cry any longer.
“You bastard .” Mayda’s weeping roughened, while Juliana climbed the last stairs. “How could you betray my love? And to her? Did you not think—?”
A scraped footfall. A grisly crack : the sound of a fist hitting flesh.
Mayda groaned, a sound of excruciating pain.
Oh, God. Oh, God!
Rosemary struggled, her little legs kicking against the blanket, as Juliana forced herself through the doorway and onto the battlements.
Landon and Mayda were some distance down the wall walk, their figures limned in moon glow. The eerie light, cutting through patches of inky shadow, skimmed the squared stone merlons and the gaps between them that overlooked the moat, almost dry from months with little rain.
Glaring at Mayda, Landon flexed his right fingers, doubtless easing discomfort from the blow, then swept his palm over the front of the brown woolen tunic that reached to his thighs. The lazy gesture, executed with a faint measure of disgust, heightened the warning buzzing inside Juliana.
“Mayda,” she said. Fear muffled her voice; the wind snatched the sound.
Landon was dressed in garments fit for a cool spring night, while Mayda wore only her linen night rail, covered by a cloak she’d thrown about her shoulders but hadn’t fastened. Her unbound blond hair snarled in the breeze as she stood with her head bowed to the side, one hand pressed to her cheek, clearly still stunned by the blow. As Juliana hurried forward, her friend straightened. Her hands lowering to clench at her sides, Mayda faced her husband.
“How dare you hit me? Did you think that would silence me?” she screeched, before she winced and cradled her face again with her hand. “How I hate you!”
Juliana shivered as a gust whipped at her; yet her chill went beyond physical discomfort. Perilous emotions flowed between Landon and Mayda. Anger and bitterness seemed to cocoon them from all else, for they still hadn’t noticed her, or heard the babe’s fussing.
“Mayda,” Juliana called again, louder this time. If only she were nearer! Still, her friend didn’t hear her.
“Listen well, Landon.” Mayda trembled. “Our marriage is ended. I cannot wait to tell my parents, who so admired you, how you—”
Landon’s face contorted in a sneer. His arm whipped up, no doubt to strike again. Mayda threw up her hands—to hit back or plead with him—even as Juliana cried, “Mayda!”
Her friend’s head swiveled. When Mayda’s gaze fell upon Juliana and Rosemary, her teary eyes widened. Pain and terror etching her expression, Mayda opened her mouth, clearly about to speak.
Landon’s
“I told you before. Cease!”
“I will not! I am your wife .”
Weak moonlight, coming through the open doorway leading onto the wall walk, touched the stairs ahead. As though becoming aware of her mother’s nearness, Rosemary warbled.
“I warn you, Mayda. If you do not be quiet—”
The brutal fierceness of Landon’s voice . . . Mere steps away from the open door, Juliana hesitated. A frightened moan scratched her throat, but she forced the sound down. She thrust her finger against Rosemary’s mouth to soothe her hungry snuffles.
“You will not make a fool of me any longer!” Mayda shouted. “I want the truth—”
“Veronique excites me.”
A shuddered gasp. “S-she—?”
“—pleasures me. Whenever I wish. However I wish. Are you happy now, wife? ”
Juliana squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, Mayda. I am sorry . To be rejected with such indifference must be heartbreaking.
Hoarse sobs broke from Mayda, each one swollen with helplessness and rage. The sounds pierced deep inside Juliana, for she’d cried that way after her mother had died. She’d wept until every last tear had dried up, and she’d been too exhausted to cry any longer.
“You bastard .” Mayda’s weeping roughened, while Juliana climbed the last stairs. “How could you betray my love? And to her? Did you not think—?”
A scraped footfall. A grisly crack : the sound of a fist hitting flesh.
Mayda groaned, a sound of excruciating pain.
Oh, God. Oh, God!
Rosemary struggled, her little legs kicking against the blanket, as Juliana forced herself through the doorway and onto the battlements.
Landon and Mayda were some distance down the wall walk, their figures limned in moon glow. The eerie light, cutting through patches of inky shadow, skimmed the squared stone merlons and the gaps between them that overlooked the moat, almost dry from months with little rain.
Glaring at Mayda, Landon flexed his right fingers, doubtless easing discomfort from the blow, then swept his palm over the front of the brown woolen tunic that reached to his thighs. The lazy gesture, executed with a faint measure of disgust, heightened the warning buzzing inside Juliana.
“Mayda,” she said. Fear muffled her voice; the wind snatched the sound.
Landon was dressed in garments fit for a cool spring night, while Mayda wore only her linen night rail, covered by a cloak she’d thrown about her shoulders but hadn’t fastened. Her unbound blond hair snarled in the breeze as she stood with her head bowed to the side, one hand pressed to her cheek, clearly still stunned by the blow. As Juliana hurried forward, her friend straightened. Her hands lowering to clench at her sides, Mayda faced her husband.
“How dare you hit me? Did you think that would silence me?” she screeched, before she winced and cradled her face again with her hand. “How I hate you!”
Juliana shivered as a gust whipped at her; yet her chill went beyond physical discomfort. Perilous emotions flowed between Landon and Mayda. Anger and bitterness seemed to cocoon them from all else, for they still hadn’t noticed her, or heard the babe’s fussing.
“Mayda,” Juliana called again, louder this time. If only she were nearer! Still, her friend didn’t hear her.
“Listen well, Landon.” Mayda trembled. “Our marriage is ended. I cannot wait to tell my parents, who so admired you, how you—”
Landon’s face contorted in a sneer. His arm whipped up, no doubt to strike again. Mayda threw up her hands—to hit back or plead with him—even as Juliana cried, “Mayda!”
Her friend’s head swiveled. When Mayda’s gaze fell upon Juliana and Rosemary, her teary eyes widened. Pain and terror etching her expression, Mayda opened her mouth, clearly about to speak.
Landon’s
Similar Books
