Читать книгу Sweet Bea - Sarah Hegger - Страница 6

She was almost his. The sweet-faced Lady Beatrice of Anglesea with her blue-green eyes and sinful mouth. A tasty armful of sumptuous curves he liked to stroke. Garrett strode down the path toward the village. A few more hints about him leaving and she would present like a bitch in heat. The subsiding stiffness in his braies returned with a rush of blood. Soon now, he would rest between Lady Beatrice’s ladylike, white thighs.

He shook off his guilt. It didn’t belong in the ugly business of vengeance. He touched the small pouch he always kept about his neck. This was what it was all about. A connection with his mother, a reminder he must stay strong and not give in to sentiment.

The village was quiet this time of day. Most of the women were working the fields, their men eking a living from the sea. Not that he’d made many friends in the village. He stuck to himself for the most part. It was an attractive village. A tidy group of cottages overlooking the sea with their gray stone walls and mellow brown thatch. Not too large, but prosperous and thriving. The sort of place he might have settled, if he were of that mind.

The strike of steel on anvil rang from the forge. Lyman was within, plying his trade. This was Garrett’s half day and Lyman expected him later. He would spend the remainder of his day pounding out farm implements. He reversed his path and slipped behind a series of cottages so he wouldn’t pass the open smithy door. Lyman liked company and if he caught sight of him, the smith would want to visit. Garrett needed to gather himself.

Carefully he skirted a bustling cluster of hens. He’d found work with the local blacksmith. The forge was hotter than hell and the work hard, but it fed him and put a roof over his head while he drew Lady Beatrice into his trap. His timing was perfect. Sir Arthur was away from Anglesea. No keen eyes to watch his youngest daughter or question the new smith’s apprentice.

As soon as Lady Beatrice gave him the ripe prize of her virginity, he’d be off again, stopping only long enough to ensure Sir Arthur knew what Garrett had taken from his youngest daughter. Sodding Sir Arthur of Anglesea would pay dearly for what he’d done to Garrett’s mother. Behind the forge, large wooden shutters were open to allow heat to escape. Garrett ducked beneath the sill and crept toward the small hut Lyman had given him.

Lady Beatrice had been hot for him today. His rod throbbed in agreement. It was a good thing he lusted for Beatrice, or it might’ve made his plan a bit more difficult. Truth was, he wanted her and it fit neatly with his aim. Had she been any other girl, he might have pursued the same goal regardless.

It wasn’t her doing her father was Sir Arthur of Anglesea. She disarmed him at times, but he chose not to dwell on that. He wouldn’t be drawn from his quest for vengeance. It was unfortunate the innocent must suffer alongside the guilty.

The inside of the hut was dim after the bright sunlight. Lilly stirred on his small pallet. Garrett bit back a curse. He had only a few minutes and he wanted to spend them savoring his victory. Planning his next step. Lilly and her visits were an annoyance. She no longer demanded payment, but Lilly had her own mouths to feed. He gave her what he could spare.

Her gaze dropped to the front of his braies. “It looks as if you were expecting me.”

“What are you doing here, Lilly?” As if he didn’t know. The ache in his rod was persistent enough to stop him from sending her about her business immediately. As Lilly was here and keen, she could take care of it for him.

She rose and padded on the packed earth floor toward him. Lilly was pretty, buxom, and rosy-cheeked. Her hand slipped past his belt and curled around him. She murmured appreciatively as she stroked.

Garrett closed his eyes. Beatrice, flaxen hair streaming over his arm, her mouth full and soft, her lush body pressed to his. He groaned.

“You are a big lad, Garrett.” Lilly giggled against his ear.

The giggling irked him. He concentrated on the skilled motion of her hand.

“I am glad I could get away for a bit,” Lilly said. “It is not easy when Gil is up and about.”

Garrett caught her wrist. She looked up at him with a murmur of protest.

“Speaking of your son?”

Lilly rolled her eyes and stuck out her bottom lip. “Jesu, Garrett, but you fret more about my boy than his own da.”

“Where is your boy, Lilly?”

“He is with his auntie,” Lilly said.

“Did he eat today?”

“Aye, Garrett, the boy ate today.”

“And you bought him shoes with the money I gave you?”

“Aye, Garrett, I bought shoes. He will only outgrow them, you know.”

“Good.” Garrett released her wrist.

Lilly got back to work.

He liked Lilly; they were friends of a sort, but he wouldn’t tolerate her ignoring her young son. Not for the first time he thought Lilly might be seeing him as a replacement father. It was time to end their arrangement. As soon as she’d taken care of his aching balls.