Read Online Hellion (Seven Brides for Seven Bastards, 7) by Jayne Fresina - Free Book Online
Authors: Jayne Fresina
Tags: Erótica, alpha male, Erotic Romance, mfm, anal sex, caning, public exhibition, twisted erotica publishing, brief ff, branding, seven brides for seven bastards, Hellion, shaving, exhibition erotica, geeorgia fox, the final wife, women behaving badly
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before he came. Or perhaps the devil
might be the more appropriate entity to thank, she mused
darkly.
A man "even more devout". Those words
struck fear and shame in her heart, for she had let herself down
with her recent behavior. What would de Vernon think of that if he
knew?
Helene glanced around the cookhouse to
be sure she was unobserved, although no one had the right to ask
her what was in the letter anyway, and then she tossed it into the
fire. She would forget it had ever arrived. Mayhap something would
befall the man on his journey there. Nothing too terrible, but just
enough to make him turn back and change his mind. She would pray
for that and hope the Almighty heard her pleas— if he could
overlook her plans for a lusty diversion with Salvador
d'Anzeray.
She'd struggled along all this time
with scant pleasure for herself; was it so very wrong that she
should seek some out now, while she could? A few hours of pleasure.
She would devote herself to prayer afterward, make her knees sore
from crawling on a pilgrimage. Anything. If she could have this one
pleasure first.
Helene, you know very well
that this is not how God works. The shrill
voice of her guilty conscience chided her, but she ignored
it.
Salvador might be a villainous,
uncouth beast, but he was perfect for a little illicit
gratification. He was not the sort of man to treat her as if she
was fragile, thankfully. Nor was he ever likely to start caring
about her or wanting to marry her. He was well known to be
heartless, a man of base needs who suffered no conscience or qualm
about how those desires were sated, and marriage to such a man was
out of the question. She'd heard how he and his brothers shared
their women and lived by their own heathen rules. The wives were
all pretty young women, so she'd heard— probably awestruck
creatures who were innocent and knew no better before they were
snatched up by those wicked brothers.
Those poor, addled women were very
different to Helene de Leon, who knew her own mind and would never
become so obsessed with a man that she lost all her self-respect
and—
Her thoughts halted as if they'd
galloped into a wall, and her face grew warm as she was forced to
relive the way she'd lain outside his gate and toyed with herself
while he watched.
It was nothing more than a lapse. A
brief dalliance.
She reached for the poker
and stabbed at the fire violently. Salvador was merely the
instrument by which she enjoyed her moment of rebellion. He was
nothing more to her than that. She was not in danger of venturing out of
her depth with him. She would not become one of those doe-eyed simpletons who pined
for a man.
And when Gilbert de Vernon arrived to
marry her, she would surely pay penance for these sins in which she
now indulged. Nothing in the short letter had hinted at a date by
which to expect the new husband. It could be a month from now. It
could be tomorrow.
Her heart seemed to deflate, sink
through her chest and shrivel until she could barely feel it
beating.
Another husband. One had been enough.
She thought she'd escaped, been forgotten.
Alas, nothing good lasted
forever.
The night air was thick with heat that
evening, held over from the sun even long after it had faded.
Nothing seemed to cool her down.
"I'm going for a stroll around the
walls of the manor to get some air," she announced to Elyce who sat
nearby mending garments by the light of the fire. Even as she spoke
she wondered why she explained herself. She ought to do as she
pleased without feeling that need to assure people of her innocent
motives. Robert used to tell her that she talked too much,
especially to the servants. But Helene talked to keep herself from
feeling so alone.
As soon as she was outside, her
"stroll" took her directly to the stables, and there she saddled
her horse again without calling for the aid of a groom. No doubt
she'd be forced to take a guard with her again, but she'd find a
way to keep him busy while she met with
might be the more appropriate entity to thank, she mused
darkly.
A man "even more devout". Those words
struck fear and shame in her heart, for she had let herself down
with her recent behavior. What would de Vernon think of that if he
knew?
Helene glanced around the cookhouse to
be sure she was unobserved, although no one had the right to ask
her what was in the letter anyway, and then she tossed it into the
fire. She would forget it had ever arrived. Mayhap something would
befall the man on his journey there. Nothing too terrible, but just
enough to make him turn back and change his mind. She would pray
for that and hope the Almighty heard her pleas— if he could
overlook her plans for a lusty diversion with Salvador
d'Anzeray.
She'd struggled along all this time
with scant pleasure for herself; was it so very wrong that she
should seek some out now, while she could? A few hours of pleasure.
She would devote herself to prayer afterward, make her knees sore
from crawling on a pilgrimage. Anything. If she could have this one
pleasure first.
Helene, you know very well
that this is not how God works. The shrill
voice of her guilty conscience chided her, but she ignored
it.
Salvador might be a villainous,
uncouth beast, but he was perfect for a little illicit
gratification. He was not the sort of man to treat her as if she
was fragile, thankfully. Nor was he ever likely to start caring
about her or wanting to marry her. He was well known to be
heartless, a man of base needs who suffered no conscience or qualm
about how those desires were sated, and marriage to such a man was
out of the question. She'd heard how he and his brothers shared
their women and lived by their own heathen rules. The wives were
all pretty young women, so she'd heard— probably awestruck
creatures who were innocent and knew no better before they were
snatched up by those wicked brothers.
Those poor, addled women were very
different to Helene de Leon, who knew her own mind and would never
become so obsessed with a man that she lost all her self-respect
and—
Her thoughts halted as if they'd
galloped into a wall, and her face grew warm as she was forced to
relive the way she'd lain outside his gate and toyed with herself
while he watched.
It was nothing more than a lapse. A
brief dalliance.
She reached for the poker
and stabbed at the fire violently. Salvador was merely the
instrument by which she enjoyed her moment of rebellion. He was
nothing more to her than that. She was not in danger of venturing out of
her depth with him. She would not become one of those doe-eyed simpletons who pined
for a man.
And when Gilbert de Vernon arrived to
marry her, she would surely pay penance for these sins in which she
now indulged. Nothing in the short letter had hinted at a date by
which to expect the new husband. It could be a month from now. It
could be tomorrow.
Her heart seemed to deflate, sink
through her chest and shrivel until she could barely feel it
beating.
Another husband. One had been enough.
She thought she'd escaped, been forgotten.
Alas, nothing good lasted
forever.
The night air was thick with heat that
evening, held over from the sun even long after it had faded.
Nothing seemed to cool her down.
"I'm going for a stroll around the
walls of the manor to get some air," she announced to Elyce who sat
nearby mending garments by the light of the fire. Even as she spoke
she wondered why she explained herself. She ought to do as she
pleased without feeling that need to assure people of her innocent
motives. Robert used to tell her that she talked too much,
especially to the servants. But Helene talked to keep herself from
feeling so alone.
As soon as she was outside, her
"stroll" took her directly to the stables, and there she saddled
her horse again without calling for the aid of a groom. No doubt
she'd be forced to take a guard with her again, but she'd find a
way to keep him busy while she met with
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