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“Mary, are you sure? It will be such an inconvenience,” she offered.
“Not at all, I have another old gelding the squire has put out to pasture, but who is fit enough to make the short trip to Cressly. Indeed, this shall be an outing for both of us.”
* * *
David Horwich had developed an obsession.
He knew that what he was experiencing was not normal. He knew it would lead to trouble. He couldn’t stop it from influencing everything he did. It grew malignantly inside his brain and intensified everything he felt for Exerilla Radley, and what he felt was lust.
He couldn’t stop himself from constantly visiting his parent’s home, whereas, in the past, he rarely visited more than once a week. He had ridden to his parent’s stables, given over his horse and started up the drive when he saw them. Hurriedly he ducked behind a row of evergreens and watched.
He had come to catch a glimpse of her, to follow her footsteps as carefully and as quietly as he could in the hopes of getting her alone.
Sometimes he would think about her and imagine his hands on her, removing her clothes, touching her skin, kissing her beautiful mouth.
He was going mad with hunger.
In the past when he spent more time at Horwich House, before the incident, quietly followed her about, stood behind a door near the kitchen, listen to her laugh and tease with Cook and Anne. The sound of her giggles tickled a need in him. He would peek around the door and watch as she bent over to pick up something, and imagine himself driving into her as he held her naked rump. He would close his eyes and almost feel the sensation of being inside, deep inside her.
Exerilla was the queen of his dreams when he slept.
He would wake in a sweat of pleasure only to find she wasn’t there, under him and he would feel sick inside. He wanted her, thought about her, even when he sat in the tavern with his cronies enjoying a drink and a few jests. He found himself daydreaming about her when he was supposed to take care of business—dangerous business that required his full attention to details.
This could not go on.
The answer was simple. He had to have her. He was sure once he bedded her, he would be satisfied and be able to move on.
A thorn tore at his skin. Hunter MacTorry. Every time he looked around, the blackguard was in his way. Now, he stood helpless, hiding as he watched Hunter helping, his mother, into the Cressly carriage. The blasted devil then turned and helped Exerilla onto the step, holding her waist, looking into her green eyes—eyes that should only look at him…, not the Scotsman from bloody Hades!
As much as he wanted Exerilla, David wanted his lordship dead.
~ Sixteen ~
BAUDALI STOOD BACK and contemplated his crystal orb. Dark magic infused him with yearning. The blacker the magic, the more forbidden it was, the more power it gave him. He was from a realm of wizards, which made him nearly safe from being absorbed by the darkness. Lately he felt a tug from the other side, the dark side and was aware that he had lost track of time. He would have to be careful.
He had been sure that he could remain safely out of the dark’s prison, where it turned the user into the used. He was suddenly filled with an urge to kill…something… anything.
He reached out and caught the mouse scurrying across his stone floor of his dungeon. A moment later he squashed the life and blood out of the small creature, letting its guts drip to the floor before he dropped it. Ah, that was better.
Now he could think more clearly.
Recently he had discovered another player in the game of cards he contemplated every day…David Horwich.
Could the man be used to aid him as he entrapped Hunter MacTorry? Possibly, he thought. He had seen that Hunter was already aware that David’s interest in the girl was more than seemly, and Hunter’s behavior regarding her was becoming more pronounced each day. He sneered, ah love, what that emotion made powerful beings like himself,. However, he would use this to his advantage.
He dipped his hands in a bowl of scented water, dried them and paced a moment as he chewed at his lower lip. He was frustrated.
He removed his cone shaped hat and threw it on a nearby table. He had to think. Timing was everything.
And he was undecided about the timing. He had to be certain that Hunter was in love to the point that he would sacrifice his brother’s life to save the female’s life.
Would Hunter sacrifice his brother?
Perhaps he should simply dispose of Hunter now. He should wait he knew. He had no choice, really. Hunter was aglow with power. Taking him by surprise would be the only way to kill him and that was not likely to happen. He hadn’t even been able to successfully watch him with the Orb. He would need something to distract him.
Ferrell MacTorry had to die. His death was necessary to tweak the future, a future where he had seen a lurking danger for himself if Ferrell lived. And Hunter was a threat to his goal.
If Ferrell didn’t die, a series of events would lead his twin, Rysdale to more success than he had already attained. Then his twin would always have the upper hand. Rysdale had already won the sweet and lovely Charm. He had to change the fates. He had to change the future. Ferrell had to die.
