The Ward Ch. 03

Bending to sniff a lovely white rose, Sage became suddenly aware of a presence behind her.

"Hello, there."

At the sound of a deep voice, she swiftly turned to perceive a man carefully watching her. Seeming out of place in the forest, he was not a rough peasant, and held himself with great dignity. Though undoubtedly handsome, his gaze was hawklike and she misliked the coldness in his light blue eyes.

"H-Hello," she replied, looking around for others. By all appearances, the man was alone.

"I have not seen you in town," he said pleasantly, his teeth flashed white in a charming smile. "I am sure I would remember you."

"I am not from town," Sage guardedly answered, her instincts alerted. Rubbing the side of her smooth, green dress, she breathed easier with the comforting awareness she was not entirely helpless.

"More's the pity. I am Lord Nicholas Stiles," the stranger haughtily introduced himself, pausing for recognition.

But Sage stared blankly with an unflattering lack of appreciation. It took a moment for Nicholas to digest the shock of not being acknowledged as he was accustomed.

"I must admit, I am quite taken by your appearance," he added in a swift recovery. "I have never encountered a lady with deep blue eyes, and hair almost as dark as mine."

"You clearly lack society," Sage tartly countered, wary of his proximity. Rather than take offence, the man chuckled at her retort.

"Would you do me the honour of disclosing your name?" he inquired, arrogantly tossing his head and deliberately posing a stance to physically impress her.

Sage shook her head, disgusted by his pompous attempt to enter her good graces. She was tempted to laugh that his red, bejewelled coat was ridiculous for travel on foot, but she did not want to engage with him. If anything, his grand attire warned he was not unattended.

"You are the daughter of a witch, are you not?" he continued lowly, abandoning all pleasantries.

"No," Sage denied the accusation, uneasily stepping back as her heart beat faster.

"There is certainly something special about you," Nicholas observed, mirroring her movement in stepping closer. "I am rich, and very powerful. It would be in your best interests to submit to me."

All her senses buzzed with alarm, and Sage glared but did not answer. The man was more than a simple rapist. He was poison. But worst of all, he had an agenda.

"Why do you spurn me? Imagine what our children will be," he murmured, beginning to close the distance between them. "Beautiful, to say the least."

Though she wanted to spit in his face, Sage knew to run. But the man was not alone. She heard him sharply whistle, and moments later hooves thundered either side of her. The two war steeds, decked in banners of red and black, forced her to run a narrow path. She could hear the noble's brisk steps behind her, and knew he was an athlete. Fortunately, she was also acquainted with the outdoors.

Ruins lay ahead, and Sage hoped to lose her pursers amongst them. As she darted across jagged stone emblems, the horses were forced to draw back. But not Nicholas. He was startlingly quick for rich man, laughing as he followed in her wake.

Expecting her to be frail as most women of class, Nicholas was filled with a supreme admiration for the one he pursued. He watched her easily jump across uneven slates of stone with a rare agility that reminded him of daring show performers.

Becoming anxious she might outrun him, Nicholas paused to lift a mid-size piece that had broken from a decrepit statue and swiftly threw it. She was momentarily stunned when it loudly shattered as it connected with a wall before her. It was all the time he needed.

"No!" Sage gasped, watching the shadow on the wall enlarge as Nicholas stood behind. A strong arm sneaked about her waist and she was dragged to a lone wall standing amongst clusters of broken stone.

"You are worth this, I know you are!" he panted, pinning her shoulders to the concrete in a painfully firm grip. "You are mine-!"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off as Sage angrily raked her nails across his cheek. Before she could strike again, he seized her wrist.

"Delightful, little kitten," he drawled, squeezing her wrist until she whimpered. "I like it, so."

In the seconds before it happened, Sage realised his intention. "No! Sto-!"

Her cry was muted by his mouth, his lips forcefully parted and his tongue tauntingly lingered against hers, swiftly retreating before she could bite down.

Nicholas grinned and tugged her lower lip with his teeth in a possessive gesture. It was an entirely different experience to seducing bored ladies of his class, better than the frightened whores he raped. This girl was quality, and more than visibly alluring. She was the only one with the courage to strike him. Her disposition both challenged and amused him. He had to have her.

"I want you. Accept me, and I will provide the best life you could wish for," he breathed in a genuine promise.

The girl's face was beautifully innocent in her despair, and Nicholas could feel her soft breasts crushed to his chest. Close up he could see, as he'd hoped, that her hair was real and unaltered, in exquisite condition. She would certainly be a lovely bride. He quivered, already anticipating forcing her to his bed, delightedly tangling a hand in her hair and burying himself between the perfect, slender thighs of one he would proudly call wife.

"Don't touch me! Let me go!" she cried, writhing with panic.

Nicholas easily held her steady, enjoying her spirited nature. The way she squirmed indignantly, discomfited by his body pressed so close, revealed she was completely inexperienced with men. If she was startled from this encounter, she was in for a true shock once in his bedchamber. The thought made him laugh with a rare joy.

"No. I am going to keep you. You will join me in wedlock, and carry my children."

Rather than succumb to her fear, Sage's eyes flashed and she snarled with outrage. One hand deceptively pushed against Nicholas' tall shoulder, as the other disappeared amongst her skirts.

Nicholas smiled at her efforts and brazenly moved his hand to squeeze her breast, with the other sliding about her waist. There was no way she could overpower him. He could not wait to get her home, strip her naked and taste every inch of her.

"I sense you will meet more than my physical desires..." he purred, increasingly satisfied he had found a worthy mate.

Lowering his head to kiss her again, he hesitated when Sage stared back with defiant confidence. At the same instant one hand amongst the folds of her skirt seized something of import. Suspecting she carried a dagger, Nicholas warily straightened and prepared to disarm her.

But instead he collapsed against the wall, the rough concrete grazing his cheek as he fell upon it. The girl was gone, no longer standing between him and the rock surface. Spinning to look around, there was nothing. He was alone.

"I knew it," he murmured.

Nicholas lifted a hand to the stinging claw mark on his cheek, wondering that such an insult brought him pleasure. He realised it strangely thrilled him, that the girl dared what none had before. The idea of a chase titillated his mind and his cock was hard and pulsing with desire for a worthy prey. The pursuit of a female that he would enjoy capturing and slowly bringing to heel, made him excited for the future.

******

Sage's eyes flew open and she heaved to a sitting position, gasping with fright. As her breathing steadied, she looked around, registering the end of a nightmare. A bad memory manifesting in her dreams. Her heart continued to pound unpleasantly, and she lay back on the soft sheets to curl up, clutching the blanket for comfort.

As many times before, she was thankful to have chosen Edmund over Lord Stiles' lackeys. Though unsure of Edmund at first meeting, she knew Nicholas was strangely determined to anchor her to his world, and would have raped her many times by now.

Sage's heart sank as she realised that even if she escaped Edmund, there was every chance Lord Stiles' men would be waiting at the fringe of the forest. And so consumed with panic and anger when Edmund carried her, she'd paid no attention to the path he took. Now, she was truly uncertain of the way home.

Sighing, Sage pushed the blanket down and drew her knees to her chest. Since Edmund called something of a truce between them, she'd been moved to a guest chamber on his level of the property. It was very large, and Sage felt a slight loneliness in such a room all by herself. Though a similar size to her bedchamber at home, it was not home.

Wrapping a pink satin gown about her, she vaguely smiled at her morning reflection and opened the door to peep into the hallway. Sage gasped as she encountered two smiling maids waiting at her door.

Despite a rocky beginning, the household quickly determined that the Master's guest, although very peculiar, was a pleasant girl of gentle birth. She was charming, without the cold, superior airs of most noble women. Since Lord Bard's parents died, visitors rarely stayed longer than two nights, and never a lone female. Although the girl was an unknown, she was quality, with a disposition worthy of their respectable Lord.

The general approval developed to a budding hope that the Lord might soon announce an engagement. The rumour escalated to a point of discussing the extravagant arrangements of a grand wedding. Some, mostly the maids, frequently speculated the gender of the Lord's firstborn, and whether he or she would have blue or green eyes.

"Is all well, my lady?" ventured a middle-aged maid, when Sage did not speak.

"Y-Yes, thank you," Sage answered awkwardly, still looking stunned.

Quickly closing the door, she pressed her palms to her cheeks and knew she was blushing. For a moment she thought Edmund might have been outside, and felt slightly angered that he would position two servants at her door to spy on her. Then again, it wasn't exactly unusual to have servants around. What was unusual, was her behaviour - the maids' expressions clearly told her.

Flustered, Sage discarded the robe and bundled back into bed to draw the covers to her chin. Where was she going to go, anyway? Edmund's quarters? The colour in her cheeks deepened. Maybe she just wanted to know where his room was, in case there was trouble. Her mind snickered at the transparently weak excuse.

With a restless sigh, Sage rolled to her back to stare at the ornate ceiling. She missed frolicking amongst nature and laying in the sun, feeling soft grass tickle her cheek whilst listening to the melodious rush of stream water. She missed those nights her Guardian indulgently watched her dance beneath the stars, moonlight gleaming silver in her hair. Her Guardian, who would sternly rebuke her developing interest in Edmund and warn that it conflicted with her obligations. Edmund was influencing her.

But as she thought of him, a part of Sage began to throb and ache. Heart thudding, she slowly trailed her fingers down her belly, up the base of her nightdress and across her inner thigh. Her breath caught as she stroked herself, suddenly motivated to tease an area that hardly interested her before.

This is where Edmund would explore...

Sage did not notice her breathing accelerate as she rhythmically moved against the bed. She arched and let her legs drift apart, surprised by how good it felt. Her fingers became more inquisitive as they turned slippery. Could it possibly feel even better if he touched her there...

An immediate flash of pleasure encased the soft place she toyed with. Sage forgot herself and moaned loudly. The door banged open, and she shrieked, scrambling up to a sitting position.

Edmund turned to the startled maids. "All is well. Go to Joel, both of you." Then he shut the door in their surprised faces.

Without another word, Edmund briskly strode to the large windows and checked the latches. He glanced up to where smaller windows were ajar, to allow airflow into the room. They were not large enough for anyone to climb through.

Finally Edmund rested his hands on his hips with a sharp sigh, still facing the window with his back to her. Clearly he had been awake for some time, and was dressed in black riding attire which gave him a rather austere appearance.

"Did you sleep well?" he brusquely inquired, sounding almost angry.

"I...I had bad dreams," Sage mumbled, utterly mortified.

Edmund didn't hear her, his mind still reeling from the shattering sight he'd walked in upon. The women positioned outside Sage's room were to see to her needs, but also report anything unusual. When summoned, he came immediately but paused outside Sage's door, wondering whether to inquire or wait until she emerged.

All seemed fine, and he decided to retreat, until he heard her moan. Terrified someone was with her, he'd entered too quickly for Sage to hide what she was doing. Within three seconds, Edmund's cock swelled to a tormenting hardness. The strength and speed of his arousal was agony.

Sage's hair was spread across the pillow as he always imagined, with a dreamy lust on her face he'd never seen. Beneath the blanket, he could tell her legs were spread with her hand moving between them.

Casting a fiery gaze out the window, the recollection did little to appease the burning desire alight in him. Finally, he looked at her. Though clearly aghast, Sage still made a very charming picture, settled in bed in her white night garments, her dark hair free and prettily framing her face in shining waves. Once he turned, she lowered her head so her hair formed a protective curtain around her features, which were flushed with embarrassment.

Edmund didn't trust himself to speak, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. Feeling he had no other option, and perfectly aware how unusual his behaviour was becoming, he stalked to a chair across the room and abruptly sat down.

Nervous and confused, Sage swallowed, eventually risking a peek through her hair. He was just sitting there, watching her in silence. Despite his still figure, tension rolled off him in waves. It was very unsettling. Sage wondered how much he'd seen, and if he was offended by it.

Two very uncomfortable minutes passed, before Sage summoned the courage to speak.

"Edmund, what you saw...I was just-" she lamely began, but Edmund immediately held up a hand to stop her, his face very heated.

"No, Sage. I will not discuss it."

Though she should be relieved to move on, Sage's face fell with a bizarre feeling of disappointed rejection. He was disgusted with her. Well-bred ladies did not pleasure themselves when a man could walk in any moment...Actually...

Sage's eyes narrowed and her mouth pursed to a resentful pout. Surely it was just as rude to burst into a lady's chamber unannounced? It's not as though she wanted him to surprise her. What she really wanted was...

"Are you going to sit there all day, glaring?" she snapped, angered by how quickly her thoughts escalated. "Have you nothing better to do than burst into my room, without warning?"

Now, it was Edmund's turn to feel ashamed. He'd never intruded upon a lady without knowing his presence would be readily welcomed. Sitting there, watching Sage, he was still fighting to forget the erotic image he'd walked in upon. So much that it angered him when she tried to explain it. He felt that she deliberately tortured him.

Edmund grappled with an urge to tug the night-gown up Sage's waist and find out exactly how talented her touch was. To lift her hand to him, the way he had done to her at dinner. Except there would be no food on offer save her arousal, which he would lick from her dainty fingers with relish...

Sage looked bemused as Edmund suddenly stood, then sat down again. Though his expression was stony, he breathed heavily and a muscle worked in his jaw.

Another awkward minute passed, before Sage attempted a topic that persistently bothered her.

"What if my Guardian does not come?"

"And why would they not?" he countered, raising his eyebrows questioningly. Sage turned her gaze to the ceiling, knowing the true meaning of his answer. He would not release her.

"Edmund, I am betrothed," she suddenly confessed, and saw him stiffen in the chair as though she'd insulted him.

"Why did you not mention it before?" Edmund said coldly, concealing the searing stab of bitterness in his chest. He wished she'd never disclosed it.

"Because you kidnapped me! It was none of your business!" she returned waspishly, fighting the urge to cower as he leaned forward in the chair, his emotions clearly volatile.

"It was very foolish to conceal it. What if I'd ravished you? Would you not be sullied in the eyes of your betrothed?" he said acidly, spitting the last word as though it offended him. It did offend him.

"No. He would still accept me," she softly answered, afraid to meet his eyes. Even in anger, he was still attractive to her. Was this what it meant, to be enamoured with a man?

"And I suppose your elusive Guardian approved the match?" Edmund snarled with heavy sarcasm.

A ghost of a laugh escaped her. Though her mirth was bitter, the giggle raised Edmund's ire and snapped what control he had left. Sage's jaw dropped as he crossed the room in a heartbeat. He climbed upon the bed and she lay back against the pillows, distancing herself with alarm.

"Edmund!" she gasped.

Suddenly, he was on top of her, and it felt like her entire world was surrounded by him, enveloped by the warmth of his body. Sage's hands pushing his broad shoulders were seized at the wrists and pinned by the sides of her face. He stared piercingly down at her.

"Do you love him?"

She hesitated. "Yes."

"But you want me!"

"But...I have an intended!" she weakly protested.

"But you want me!" he repeated, struggling not to shout in his passion. "Tell me it's not true! Say it with conviction, and I will leave."

"It...well..." she faltered, mesmerized by the green in his irises, bordered by tones of brown that looked gold in the light. Waiting for her reply, his expression was fierce and the intensity in his gaze made her feel heated.

"I-It's not...It's not..."

"Liar," Edmund declared huskily, smiling at her feeble denial. Sage's mouth was ajar with eagerness, and Edmund moved close enough to brush his lips against hers.

"Tell me you don't want my kisses," he whispered. "And I will leave."

Forgetting herself, Sage closed the distance between them. Edmund groaned and held her tightly as their mouths hotly merged. He experienced a sudden rush of giddy desire, and he liked it. He was finally kissing Sage in the fantasy he'd so frequently contemplated but forced himself to refrain from enacting.

A delicious warmth spread through Sage's chest at the contact, and she wanted it never to end. With her eyes closed she felt his arms wrap about her, and enjoyed the heat of his strong body. She sighed at the thrills spiralling through her just from his embrace.

Then Edmund's lower body pressed close, and a hard part of him nudged between her legs. The movement ignited that same spark Sage created with her hand, but in a far more pleasurable way.

The experience was wonderfully intoxicating, but not enough. Remembering the couples she watched in the forest, straining against each other with a curious urgency, Sage did not know exactly how it worked between a man and a woman, but she was becoming desperate to find out.

"Sage, please be mine!" Edmund begged against her lips, pressing feverish kisses down her neckline and deeply breathing the scent of her hair. "Say you will!"

Sage eagerly drew breath to comply, her heart singing as she prepared to beg him to teach her pleasure. But a sharp voice, heavy with anger, slashed through the lust clouding her mind.