AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He died upon me, Dom.” The words flew out of her mouth, bitter spikes she shot into the air. “He died on me. In bed.”
Domnall froze, his eyes squinting at her. “He died with you in bed?” The words were slow, agonized.
Three quick breaths that made her head light and words blurted from her in a rush. A rush to get this over and done with. A rush to the pain that would cut across her chest when the disgust would appear in his eyes.
Yet there wasn’t anything she could do now except tell Domnall before George did. “Yes. On me. In the act. He was on top of me and then he just stopped. Collapsed onto me. And I started screaming. Screaming and screaming. And his sons ran into the room.”
“Bloody hell, Karta.”
“There’s more.” Her eyes closed, her face tortured. “You have to understand, my husband rarely came to my bed—only when he was between mistresses. He didn’t want more children. His line of heirs was well established.” She stopped, taking a deep breath that shook her body. “He had tied my wrists and ankles to the bedposts. Wide. He’d always told me that was how he enjoyed it the most. With me lashed in place, captive under him.” Her closed eyes scrunched tight as heat spread across her neck, her face. “And there was a riding crop curled tight in his hand. But he never hurt me with any of it—not truly—so I accommodated his wishes.”
Silence.
So much so she had to crack her eyes open to make sure he hadn’t quietly backed out of the room.
He hadn’t gone anywhere. Hadn’t moved a muscle. His stare still slicing her in two.
Then recognition flickered in his blue eyes. “Dammit—his sons walked in on that?” His hand ran across his face and he shook his head. “That bastard—George—walked in on that?”
She nodded, her eyes fully opening, though she couldn’t look directly at him any longer. Couldn’t witness the revulsion in his eyes. She stared at her delicately lined secretary in the corner of the room. A desk that haunted her every day, for she had no one to write to.
For how much she wanted to crumple in that moment, turn into a puddle and slip under the floorboards to hide from Domnall, she knew he had to know everything—everything—of that scene. She had to tell him before George did.
She swallowed hard. “They had to peel him off of me. All three of his sons were in the room.” The burn of the humiliation had fully flooded the back of her neck, spreading into her scalp and making her hair stand on end. “He was naked. I was naked except for my stockings. The riding crop was still…in me…he liked that. I was tied down and couldn’t move…couldn’t hide…” She exhaled, the moment in time washing over her again in brutal mortification. “They saw everything. Everything of their father. Everything of me. And the damnation was swift and complete.”
“Karta—”
“It’s the real reason I was banished to Badenoch. You can imagine what happened after they found me like that. They blamed me for his death and then told people what had happened.” She inhaled deeply, attempting to solidify her spine against the repulsion she would find in him when she looked up.
A beaten smile pulled her cheeks back. “No one will touch me. Not a friend. Not a relative. Not another suitor. I’m a killer and a sordid whore, and his sons made sure every contact they had knew that fact—and then the gossipmongers took over from there.”
“So you ran? You didn’t fight it?”
Her look whipped up to him. “There’s no fighting it, Dom. It happened. There’s nothing to deny.”
“Let me get this correct.” His jaw flexed. “A man—far too old and in no condition for taking his young wife to bed—ties her up, enjoys an accoutrement with her, then dies on top of her, and she’s the villain?”
Her chest tightened.
She told him. Now she needed him to walk away. To not stretch the pain of this into minutes, into hours.
Her fingers lifted, swiping at a tear that had escaped her lower lashes. “I’m a wretched whore. A killer. A pariah in society. It is how the world works.”
“Not my world.” His voice was a low rumble, raw. “Not when you are the one destroyed by it.”
Another tear slipped to her cheek. “Dom, no.”
“Don’t tell me you believe them.” He took one step toward her, collapsing the space between them to nothing. “Tell me you don’t believe those bastard Leviton boys. For that’s what they are. Sniveling, weak little boys.”
Her throat closed, unable to let air or words through.
His hand lifted, his thumb caressing her cheek, wiping away the wetness before his fingers curled around her neck. “I am with you, Karta. No matter what ye believe. No matter what the world thinks. I am with you. It’s always been so. It will always be so.”
Air broke through her lungs that she expelled in a gasp. A gasp that was swallowed by his mouth on hers. His body pressing into hers.
It took her a full minute to realize he hadn’t walked away. Hadn’t looked at her with disgust. With scorn.
He’d only looked at her with rage at the injustice of what she’d suffered.
