Lovescape

Chapter 5-3

As Vidal watched, frozen with shock, she jerked her wrist free of the man’s grasp and turned to run. He caught her in seconds. Digging his fingers into her hair, he pulled her hard against him.

No longer able to struggle, Rosalind yelled, “Let me go!”

The words sounded odd, and it took Vidal a moment to realize that she was speaking English. Shaken from his paralysis, he ran across the center of the clearing between dancers who stopped to stare. He prayed he would reach them before something terrible happened.

“No, my gel. You’re coming with me.” The man’s accent was crude, and though many of the words meant nothing to Vidal, the threat rang clear in his voice.

“Let go, you beast!” She clawed and yanked at his enveloping arm, but to no avail.

“Oh, that hurt,” he said sarcastically, and then added, “Better stop fighting, or I’ll take you right here. All your little friends will see who you belong to.”

The meaning of that phrase was also lost on Vidal, but it had a clear effect on Rosalind. She froze, her face going dead white. She looked like a ghost in the torchlight, fear etched in every feature.

By now, Vidal had drawn close enough to hear her hiss, “I would die rather than let you touch me again, you filthy, rutting pig.”

Her captor slapped her hard, knocking her to the ground, and then he crouched on top of her, pinning her down. He gripped the bodice of her dress and yanked. The fabric gave way with a sickening ripping sound, revealing her pale bosom to the crowd.

Rosalind shrieked, grabbing at the fabric to cover herself, but he slapped her hand away.

“Stop it,” she screamed.

He laughed, a nauseating smirk curving his lips as he swung down with one meaty hand, catching her on the cheek and knocking her head sideways. Without pausing, he balled up his fist and drove it into her face.

Without pausing for reflection, Vidal hauled the man away from his woman and drove a furious blow into his belly.

Though bigger, his opponent was soft and weak, and Vidal had developed wiry muscles from years of working his land. One punch sufficed to render the interloper harmless. Vidal dropped him to the ground where he lay motionless, gasping for breath.

Vidal then turned his attention to Rosalind. He knelt beside her and gathered her into his arms. She clung to him, trembling. Her face was battered, bloody, and he could see red marks that would likely become bruises later.

His own heart pounded, though he tried to appear calm for her sake. In another moment, Blas Gongora arrived at his side, staring down threateningly as the beaten man began to show signs of stirring. The innkeeper’s furious visage and massive muscles more than sufficed to quash any lingering aggression in the fellow.

“Perfect timing, mi amigo,” Vidal said quietly.

“What should I do with him?” A look of truly frightening rage twisted Blas’s face.

“Find somewhere secluded and lock him up. I don’t want him ruining the rest of the evening for everyone. I’m taking Rosalinda home.”

The older man nodded and hauled the interloper to his feet, unceremoniously dragging him into the night.

Vidal picked up Rosalind. She weighed even less than he remembered, and she was trembling. She leaned her cheek against his chest. Gently, he nudged the torn flap of her bodice with his chin until it covered her decently again, before carrying her over to his carriage.

Not surprisingly, everyone crowded around him, trying to figure out what had happened.

Since he had no answers to their questions, he said, “Señorita Carlisle will be fine. Her injuries are not serious.” Please, Blessed Virgin, let it be so. “Will someone please drive us back to the manor? She needs to rest.” Though perfectly capable of handling a team, Vidal was unwilling to release Rosalind.

Please, Blessed Virgin, let it be so.A sturdy local boy dashed out of the crowd and hopped into the driver’s seat. Vidal climbed inside and settled with Rosalind in his lap. As the carriage lurched into motion, Vidal sagged with relief. In his arms, Rosalind’s trembling had stilled.

“Querida, how are you feeling?” he asked, turning her so he could examine the injuries on her face. In the dim moonlight, he could see that some of the marks were already darkening.

“Frightened and sore, though greatly relieved to be with you,” she replied in a quiet, unsteady voice.

“Any serious injuries?” He touched her cheek gently.

“I don’t think so. My nose hurts. Is it bleeding?”

“No, but your lip is.” He swiped the spot with the tip of his thumb.

She lowered her lashes. “It will heal.”

“Yes.”

Vidal inhaled deeply. “Querida, who was that man.”

Rosalind sighed. Her expression turned nervous and uncertain and she subtly withdrew her shoulder from where it pressed against him. “Charles is my father’s business partner,” she began simply, but he could see horrible memories crowding into her mind. She closed her eyes.

Vidal waited patiently, passing the time by pulling the pins from her disheveled coiffure and running his fingers through the glistening black locks.

The petting soothed her, and she began again. “I never liked him. I knew he was stealing money from my father’s business, but Father would never listen to me. He said women knew nothing about business. Then Charles decided, for whatever reason, that he wanted to marry me. I suspect it had something to do with money.” She shuddered. “I would rather die than be married to that pig, and I told my father so, but he liked the match.”

She stopped again to regain her composure, then abandoned the struggle. With tears running down her cheeks, she forced herself to keep talking.

“My father told him to try and talk some sense into me, and he left the two of us alone together. Instead of talking, he…he…” She swallowed hard. “He had his way with me.” She sobbed, pressing her face against Vidal’s shirt.

“Why did you agree to that, if you didn’t like him, querida?” No judgment marred his tone.

“Agree?” she choked out. “Who said anything about agreeing? He’s stronger than me. You saw that. I couldn’t stop him. He hit me until I couldn’t move. After that, it was easy for him to do whatever he wanted with me.”

“¡Ay, Dios mío, querida!” Vidal exclaimed, appalled. Rage tore at his guts. “That’s r**e. It is a crime. He should be hanged for it!”

“I knew it was wrong,” she wept. “I was so ashamed. I didn’t know what to do. I just had to get away from there, so I took all the money I could find and traveled as far as I could go.”

“All the way to Spain…” He tipped her face up so that she was looking into his eyes. “Pobrecita,” he told her tenderly, “I’m so sorry for all you had to endure. And that was the only time, wasn’t it, until we came together last year? I mean, you never intentionally took a lover other than me?”

“Yes.”

His insides clenched tighter. You did take advantage. Damn you, Salazar. Not only did you ruin her, you risked making her even more afraid. Gracias a Dios our loving pleased her. Guilt chewed on him. Ruined a lady. What on earth is wrong with you?

You take advantage. Damn you, Salazar. Not only did you ruin her, you risked making her even more afraid. Gracias a Dios our loving pleased her.Ruined a lady. What on earth is wrong with you?Wait! What am I doing? I need to stop thinking about myself. This is not the moment for my guilt. I can go to confession later. Now, I need to concentrate on Rosalinda. Striving to speak calmly, he said, “I should have guessed. You made love like a virgin.”

Wait! What am I doing? I need to stop thinking about myself. This is not the moment for my guilt. I can go to confession later. Now, I need to concentrate on Rosalinda. “I wasn’t,” she protested.

“Yes, you were,” he insisted, letting his tenderness show. “Thank you, querida, for sharing that with me.”

She laid a hand on his cheek and a gush of words spilled from her. “No, it was sweet. I loved it. You made me feel so safe, so cherished. I’ve never felt safe since the… attack. Except for that night.”

He kissed her forehead, wishing he could think of something more to say. He longed to be able to comfort her, but the words wouldn’t come, and while he was thinking, the carriage came to a stop.

* * *

Vidal scooped Rosalind up. It felt ridiculous to be carried about in this fashion, but exhaustion had set her limbs trembling. She doubted she would be able to stand even if she had wanted to. Besides, it feels good in Vidal’s arms…safe. Safe is such a rare and precious feeling. She rested her head against his shoulder, and he carried her into the house.

Besides, it feels good in Vidal’s arms…safe. Safe is such a rare and precious feeling. She didn’t know how he knew, but he carried her directly to her own little bedroom, pulled back the threadbare blue quilt and laid her down on the bed.

As he stepped away, she convulsively grabbed his arm. “Don’t leave…please,” she whispered desperately.

“I’m not leaving, querida,” he told her, his voice gentle.

She went limp with relief.

He crossed the room in three steps and quickly dipped a handkerchief into the brown porcelain ewer of cool water that rested on a small table. Then he returned, and, sitting on the edge of the bed, began to dab at the drying blood on her lip and chin. She winced but didn’t protest.

* * *

Vidal’s mind continued racing as he tended to her injuries. She deserves better than all she has endured, and I want to give it to her, but I don’t know how.

She deserves better than all she has endured, and I want to give it to her, but I don’t know howTask finished, he set the cloth aside and ran his fingers through his hair. What to do? What to do? How do I comfort a woman after an assault, an assault that resurrected memories of an even more painful attack? He looked at her sweet, ravaged face, longing to kiss her, but fearing the injury to her lip would hurt. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.

. What to do? What to do?How do I comfort a woman after an assault, an assault that resurrected memories of an even more painful attack?A look of grief twisted Rosalind’s features into a lip-trembling frown.

What do you want, querida? How can I comfort you?

What do you want, querida? How can I comfort you?The jagged tear in her bodice had fallen open again, baring one pale breast, n****e and all, to his gaze. A jolt of desire shot through him.

The sight of her bare, pale skin resurrected delicious memories of her touch, her taste, the glorious warmth of her eager body. She was so sweet in bed. My touch comforted her then.

She was so sweet in bed. My touch comforted her then.What’s wrong with you? he scolded himself. That makes no sense. Don’t be a fool. She won’t want you slobbering over her like another lusty wolf. After an attempted r**e, there’s no way she will want intimate attention tonight.