Sassy Ever After_Secret Sass Page 6

  "What is the matter with your leg?" Leon asked at once.

  "What do you mean?" she asked. "I got bitten yesterday. It's fine."

  "Let me see the wound. Now."

  Leon seized the bottom of her skirt and began to pull at her gown. Heat filled her face as she had a flash of Sir William forcing her over his table until she hit him over the head with his golden goblet. No, no, no. In her frightened state, she kicked Leon as hard as she could between his legs and felt her foot come in contact with his soft balls. He let out a loud groan and fell to his knees at her feet, holding himself. Victoria stared down at him, not wanting to apologize because he had ripped at her skirt without asking and yet feeling guilty because she was sure he had only done so out of concern for her leg. It was as if he had smelled that the wound was devilish.

  ***

  Pain.

  That was the only thing Leon felt between his legs for several minutes as he cupped his cock and balls as tears of pain filled his eyes. Of all the places that blasted woman could have kicked, it had to have been there. He leaned forward, pressed his head against the cold floor, and breathed.

  Finally, the pain began to fade and was now a dull ache instead. He exhaled a shaky sigh as he was allowed to think again. That wretched woman, kicking me. I looked at her legs all day yesterday and she had no complaints then. It was not as if I was going to ravage her. Yet he had ripped at her skirts and dreamed about ravaging her the night before. The feeling that he had deserved this mingled with the physical pain.

  As he staggered to his feet, Victoria still hovering before him with a horrified and guilty expression on her face, he once again sniffed the air, catching the odor which had made him rush to her in the first place. It was ten times worse than the stink of his kitchen had been. It smelled like an odd mixture between stale chicken noodle soup and rotting flesh. The wound was not normal. Cursed, even.

  The two of them locked eyes but neither of them said anything.

  Finally, Victoria said, "Leon, are you…all right?"

  Leon nodded slowly. His balls still ached, but it was manageable. "What about you?"

  Victoria bit her bottom lip. "Well, I…My leg is strange, but I really shouldn't show it to you."

  "Oh, go on." Leon sat down. "Last night, you showed it to me many times, and today you started off our breakfast by kicking me where only a wife should touch. I doubt you have anything to worry about, keeping your virtue and all that. My man parts probably won't work for a week after the injury you gave me."

  Though she did not apologize, her expression was apologetic. She then bent down and began to tug at her dress until it bunched around her knee. The bite wound was the size of his hand. Yesterday, when it was bloody and messy, he didn't think it could get much worse, but he had been wrong. Today it was worse. The skin surrounding the wound was dark red and he could tell it was wet at the top. At the upper right side where one of the bigger fangs had pierced Victoria's skin, yellow ooze began to flow from it. Swearing, he bent down in front of the wound and placed his hand next to the skin. Though Victoria gasped and her leg twitched, she did not pull away from him. He respected her for that and only gently touched the hot skin on the outside of the injury.

  What is this madness? Is this a form of the plague? I should send her from my house today, just like I had planned to do. But when he looked up into Victoria's large eyes and pale face, the idea of sending her away to no one was even worse than the kick to his balls.

  "This isn't good." He ran his thumb on the hot skin on the outside of the wound. "This bite radiates heat. This isn't a normal wound."

  "I know," Victoria shuddered. "It aches like an abnormal wound too. I was bitten by a dog as a child, but it was nothing like this."

  Once again, both of them were silent. Even during this moment, peering up into Victoria's face made his heart pound and images of his fantasies from last night filled his head…Victoria, her back arched and her hair covering the pillows…Victoria, her legs spread as she inserted her fingers into herself. He tore his eyes away and let out an aggravated sigh.

  See what comes of going to town? If you hadn't, this woman never would have gotten bitten and you would be free like you always were. His jaw tightened and he straightened up.

  "Do you have anywhere to go?" Leon asked stiffly. "I should send you away right now. This wound could infect me too. It's dangerous."

  Her eyes widened in fear. It was like staring into two glistening ponds, and he hated the idea that such a sad expression was his fault. I can't send her away. I can't. But what about the full moon? He chased the thought about the full moon aside. It didn't matter. He may have been cold toward the townspeople, but he wasn't heartless. If he forced Victoria out of his estate now, she would die. He would have to allow her to stay until her wound healed, even if it meant she infected him with her strange illness. He had already killed his brother. He wasn't going to add this woman to his list of casualties.

  "You can stay," Leon said, his voice tight. "But I will not hire you as a servant. It is not right for you. Once you are of good health again, you must take your horse and leave my estate. Do you understand?"

  At once, her fear-filled green eyes brightened with relief, and she stepped forward and crushed him to her chest. He could feel her entire body at that moment – her supple breasts, her child bearing hips, her smooth, flat stomach. His heart quickened further and he gently pushed her away before he could react by doing something unintelligent like holding her tighter. Getting attached to Victoria would only cause him pain in the end when he forced her to leave, and he would, too. It was for her own good.

  "Thank you so much for this." Victoria grabbed his hand and pressed it to her fat breasts.

  He nodded solemnly. "I'm sending a letter to a doctor I know named Dr. Manheim. He should be here within a couple days' time. I hope the wound heals by then, but if it doesn't, I prefer to have him here."

  Her eyes widened. "A doctor? He will likely think the two of us, an unmarried man and woman, are…"

  A blush filled her cheeks, and he once again had an erotic image of her legs spread, pussy dripping wet as she thrust her fingers into herself. He easily imagined her putting her fingers in her mouth and sucking them. He shook his head and grunted before his imagination got carried away.

  "Dr. Manheim will not say anything to anyone." The doctor had proven himself worthy of his werewolf secret, as had his father before him who was also a doctor. "We do not have to worry about the man's waggling tongue in this case."

  She appeared relieved.

  ***

  Sir William did not know who the cabin on the outskirts of the town belonged to, but he could tell from the excess dust that it had not been used in a long time. The door had been unlocked when he had come upon it, too, and there was no life inside except for a couple of fat rats patrolling for nonexistent food. Cecile was tied to a chair with thick pieces of rope with tears streaming down her blood encrusted face. Sweat dampened her gown as she quivered and sobbed.

  "You shouldn't have allowed your daughter to leave me." Sir William paced in front of Cecile, who shuddered as she gazed at him with her large eyes. "Why couldn't you have remained a poor widow, huh? If you had, this wouldn't be happening and Victoria would still be mine."

  "Victoria was never yours," Cecile glared at him. "My daughter belongs to herself, not to you. And even if I had not married, I would have urged her to leave you. You are an evil man, the spawn of the devil who–"

  Drawing back his hand, Sir William hit Cecile across the face with his fist, causing his knuckle to burn. With a cry of pain, the chair tilted to the left and fell, and she cried out in pain. Sir William smiled at her shriek.

  "You deserved that." Sir William bent down and heaved the chair upright. "You are such a self-righteous creature. So was your husband. It felt so good to kill him."

  Cecile went rigid.

  "You didn't know that, did you?" A low chuckle escaped his throat. "What was it my do
ctor told you? An illness? Yes, it was an illness, I suppose. An illness caused by my poison given by my hand. It was just too easy to figure out where you bought your bread. All it took was just the right amount of convincing, and your husband received a sample from the friendly baker woman."

  "You, you monster," Cecile struggled, her eyes narrowed with anger. "You killed my husband? Why? He was the most decent, hardworking person in the entire world, and you killed him. Do you know what losing him did to Victoria? Do you know how much my daughter has suffered?"

  "I know how much your weakness made Victoria suffer." Sir William grinned at her. "I know how you shriveled up without him. I know how you were so weak she had to come crawling to me. I sensed your weakness the moment I saw you, and that was how I knew my plan would work. Hotheaded Victoria, just like her father, and her weak, soft little mother who wouldn't know how to survive without her husband to hold her hand. It was easy."

  "No," Cecile said.

  "Yes." Sir William straightened up and loomed over her. "That was exactly how it was, and that is exactly how it is now, which is why you are going to tell me where Victoria is. I know you know her whereabouts."

  Cecile's lips tightened and she shook her head.

  Drawing back his hand, Sir William hit her again, and she screamed and the chair wobbled. Cecile, sobbing, spit up blood and it dribbled down her chin and onto her skirt.

  "Tell me where Victoria is," Sir William threatened Cecile with his fist.

  In response, Cecile spit into Sir William's face. With a howl of anger, he wiped it from his shut eyes and then swore. He could taste the blood that had been on her lips. Shaking his head in anger, he thrashed. When he finally opened his eyes, he gazed at Cecile with every bit of malice which bubbled beneath his skin. He wanted to break Cecile, just like he had watched his father do to his own mother. He wanted to observe her squirm for what she had done to him. See her punished. That was his way.

  Drawing back his hand, he once again hit Cecile across the face and spit flew. He hit her again and again. With every wail she released, his breath left his chest in excited flurries. He knew that by tomorrow he would have no double where Victoria was. And Cecile would be dead, hanging from the ceiling.

  ***

  Victoria and Leon sat inside her room, which she had managed to clean up yesterday, despite her aching leg. Leon sat at her side on the bed, holding a bowlful of hot water and a rag. The rag steamed after he dipped it in the water, and Victoria wondered whether Leon had left the water alone for long enough after boiling. Maybe there was going to be a burn added to her injury. The thought made her grimace.

  "It's all right," Leon said, as if reading her thoughts. "It's hot, but it should only sting a little."

  Grimacing, Victoria nodded. She knew it would hurt. The question was, how much.

  Leon tugged the dress higher around her knees and revealed the swollen wound which had begun to become more pus-filled every night. Where the fangs had touched skin, pus oozed outward. The wound was still slimy and wet. Leon gazed at the wound and wrinkled his nose as if he could smell it, which was impossible because she couldn't smell anything.

  "You ready?" Leon gazed at her with a pitying expression, which only made her want to be strong for him.

  "Yes," Victoria nodded.

  Lowering the rag, Leon's jaw tightened. The moment the hot rag covered the wound, she arched her back and threw back her head. She bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming as the wound ached, but she could not hold back a muffled moan. It wouldn't have hurt more if that rag had been a prod for searing tattoos onto animals. She gripped the bedspread between her hands.

  "It's all right," Leon soothed as he moved the rag over her wound. "It will be all right."

  His voice filled her ears like an angelic choir, and she found herself believing him. Yes, she realized, it would be all right. Of course it would. She shuddered and sighed. How was it that she trusted this man so much after just a day? As she forced her eyes open, still clutching the bed as her leg ached, she watched as Leon lifted the rag and revealed that it was dirty with blood, yellow pus, and brown gunk which she guessed was dirt and possibly poison from the wolf's teeth.

  That was what it had to have been, after all. When she traveled to seek Leon, that wolf wasn't actually a wolf, but was actually the devil, and he had gotten to her. Maybe God had allowed this to happen because of her misdeed with Sir William. If that was the case, she had no one to blame but herself.

  Leon dipped the rag into the water again, knocking her from her thoughts, and she saw the dirt and gunk from the rag swept away by the hot water. When he pulled out the rag, it was clean and steaming again. He gazed at her, giving her a questioning stare, and she nodded her head and shut her eyes. Once again, Leon placed the rag over her wound and continued to clean it, though it filled her with agony. Every movement felt as if a saw was digging into her muscle and tearing it to pieces.

  Lord, Lord, Lord. She shook her head, bunching the blankets between her hands, and then she felt Leon's free hand grasp her own. When she opened her eyes, she saw that his eyes were not on the wound where the rag was, but on her face. She flipped over her hand so it was palm up and he grasped it, entangling his fingers in her own. As they held hands, he continued to clean her wound with the rag.

  It hurts so badly, yet I still feel so much more than pain. I have never felt like this about anyone – my heart pounds and yearns, and I feel like I'm on fire. She grasped Leon's hand harder and gazed at him, feeling her heart warm. As he gazed back into her eyes, he gasped as if shocked, though she had no idea why.

  Victoria stared at him with such intensity it made his heart and groin ache. Though the smell of the wound was disgusting, there was nothing disgusting about Victoria or her bright eyes. If he wasn't who he was – a cursed werewolf – he would have courted her and perhaps married her. But not now. The thought filled him with sadness and the only thing that pulled him from Victoria's lily pad eyes was the smell of the infected wound.

  He couldn't help but wonder if the wound she had received was a message for him from up above. A wolf had bitten her, after all, and the bite now oozed with poison which tore her apart from the inside out. Maybe it was a sign that he was never meant to be with a human woman. The thought sickened him, though he reminded himself that God need not have warned him by destroying an innocent woman's leg. He had never intended to marry a woman to begin with. The curse had hurt him enough without him placing such a burden on someone he loved.

  Shaking his head to clear it from his depressed thoughts, he withdrew the rag, now sticky with red and yellow goop which smelled so sour his eyes watered for a moment, and then he dipped it into the steaming hot bucket and waited. A moment later, he pulled out the hot rag and once again put the rag against her leg. Victoria groaned and let out a shaky sigh, and he glanced at her face and felt pity and something more – deep affection.

  The feeling was unwelcome.

  ***

  Cecile had not told him where Victoria was, and that angered Sir William to no end. As he stared down at Cecile, his face tense and his bloodied hands balled, his heart pounded in rage. He thought this was the easy part. He thought all he would have to do was threaten Cecile, and she would crumble like a house without a foundation.

  But instead, Cecile sat, bloody and sweaty, with her face swollen and covered in bruises. Her hair was matted with crimson and her mouth hung open, revealing that she missed teeth in the front after he had struck her down. Sir William paced back in forth in front of Cecile, wondering what other tortures he could give her that would not kill her. He could tell by the way she trembled and her breath left her chest in shaky gasps that she was close to dying, and he could not afford to have the woman die when she knew where Victoria was.

  "Where is Victoria?" Sir William asked for the thousandth time, his voice shaking with anger. "Tell me. Now."

  "I do not know where Victoria is." Cecile shuddered and shook. "She did not tell me where
she went. She took her horse and left. That is all I know."

  "Then maybe I shall kill you," Sir William boomed.

  When Sir William stormed toward her, his fist raised again, Cecile flinched and groaned, but still did not tell him where Victoria was. His hand dropped to his side and his jaw tensed in anger. A horrifying thought struck him. Maybe the reason why Cecile was withholding information was not because she was stronger than he had thought, but because she truly did not know where Victoria was.

  Would Victoria really leave without telling her mother where she was going? All the time Sir William had lain with Victoria, she would talk of her mother, sometimes with tears in her eyes. When she had spoken of her mother, it had annoyed Sir William to no end and he would grab Victoria's face, plunge his tongue into her mouth, and then burrow his cock between her thighs until her breath left her body in quick gasps.

  But if Victoria herself didn’t know where she was going, only that she was leaving, she would not tell her mother. The realization made him sick because that was a setback in his plan. He wanted to rush to Victoria, find her now, and punish her mercilessly for what she had done to him. Angry, Sir William turned toward Cecile, gritting his teeth.

  "Tell me the last words Victoria said to you," he said angrily.

  Cecile stared at him, blood flowing down the side of her head and mingling with that which was already dried and crusted.

  "She said…she said…" A blank expression covered her face. "She said I should be careful with Dawson. That is all."

  "You're lying." Sir William drew back his hand and hit Cecile over the head again. Blood splattered at the touch from a previous wound. "Tell me, you despicable creature, where Victoria is. What did she last say to you?"