Free The Pleasures of Sin by Jessica Trapp Page B

remembered. In his hands, he carried a chain.
    Yesterday’s memory of being dragged to the courtyard, pushed to her knees, tied and whipped loomed in her mind. Her chest squeezed, choking off the air in her lungs. She looked for any signs of softness that he might have forgiven the ambush and stabbing and saw none. His jaw was set in a sharp line and tension pulled across his wide shoulders.
    He had come to finish the beheading.
    With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Adele who leaned on her cane and headed to the door. St. Paul scrambled into her arms.
    Panthos wagged his tail and licked Montgomery on the hand as he followed her. Adele’s familiar uneven gait faded. The terrier growled at him and Montgomery bent and held out his palm for the dog.
    Duncan paused, reached his nose warily forward and sniffed the outstretched hand before following the pack out.
    Montgomery straightened. “I have new jewelry for you, wife.” The last word was spat out like a bitter curse, his generous lips lifted into a snarl.
    Warily, Brenna stepped back, her gaze darting to the open door and then the window. Obviously his softer side, if indeed he had one, was reserved for animals and not humans.
    The metal clanked in Montgomery’s hand and then unfurled. Five loops of iron connected by chains hung on his palms.
    Brenna’s eyes widened and sweat beaded on her upper lip.
    Fetters of a slave.
    Bloody hell. “Chains! You plan to chain me?” Despair rose in her chest as all her plans to shelter in a convent disappeared like smoke in the wind.
    He began to stalk toward her, obviously planning more than to merely behead her. Humiliation and torture lay in her future.
    “You cannot be serious,” she gasped.
    “You are a traitor. The chains should be the least of your worries.”
    Her legs turned watery thinking of prisoners sentenced to have their skin stripped from their bodies and their muscle and bones torn and broken by large hammers and hooks. Their screams of agony could last for days. ’Twas the price of treason.
    She frantically scanned the chamber, looking for a way out. If she could make it to the window, she could fling herself into the courtyard—die a quick death. Taking her own life would land her a place in hell. But surely the devil had more mercy than The Enforcer.
    Brenna edged toward the opening. If she moved too quickly, Montgomery would suspect and thwart her purpose.
    The chains clanked as he paced closer, looming like a dark shadow. His eyes were steely and full of purpose, terrifying in their intensity.
    Her heart hammered, beating so furiously she thought she could hear the sound thudding throughout the chamber. She stepped toward the window, her thighs tensing to make the final leap.
    As if anticipating her move, Montgomery closed in on her.
    She lunged; death beckoned her like a generous mistress of light. Her fingers touched the windowsill, her knee on the embrasure seat.
    His hand closed around her calf just as she scrambled up on the window bench to make the final leap toward freedom and the safety of hell.
    “Nay!” She kicked back at him, frantic for him to release her. “Let me go!”
    He pulled her back. Her knees and thighs bumped on the edge of the seat and her chest scraped across the top of it. “Cease fighting, wench! There will be no such swift end for you.”
    She screamed, panic flooding her mind, and tried to wiggle away.
    Undaunted by her efforts, he picked her up and carried her to the bed. “Shhh. Shhh. Be calm, wife.” This time the word didn’t sound like a curse. It was low and deep and soothing. He held her tightly, squelching her struggles.
    She pushed against him, pressing her arms and legs outward to get away. ’Twas like trying to fight an iron cage, but she struggled until her strength was spent.
    Tears rolled down her face. ’Twas pointless to combat him. Utterly, completely pointless.
    He was a large man. She was a woman. A wedded woman under the hand of her lord and master