Coulter, Catherine. Rosehaven / Catherine Coulter.

“Aye,” Glenda said, and she didn’t sound a bit scared. Indeed, there was venom and resolution in her voice. “I’ll be rid of you again, you mad old woman. You don’t belong here. As soon as Lord Severin and that bitch wife of his leave, I will take over again and you will see who is the real mistress of Langthorne. Until then I will bide my time. Aye, I will continue to sew more of my gowns for you since I have no choice, but when we are alone again, you old crone, then you will wear what you deserve to wear: rags and naught else. To waste clean water on the likes of you, it turns my belly. Aye, you’ll see. It won’t be long until your son leaves. You believe anyone will heed you? No, all wait for you to sink into your stupor of madness again. No one will believe you if you say anything against me.”

Then he heard the sound of a hand slapping flesh. He opened the door to see Glenda over his mother, his mother sitting in a narrow chair, Glenda holding both her arms, leaning close to her mother until she was pressed against the back.

“Come on, you miserable hag. Why do you not start screaming now, you mad old woman?”

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His mother paled even more. “I don’t want her here,” Moraine whispered. “Please, Severin, do not let her come close to me again.”

“Ah, but I do want her to come here, Mother. Please do not worry. I want you to trust me.” He turned to the young girl who was standing there beside him, her arms folded beneath her breasts, shoving them up and forward, for his pleasure, he supposed.

“I was standing outside the door. It was cracked open. I heard what you said to my mother.”

The girl didn’t move. She merely smiled up at him, clearly disbelieving him. “I just told her how very lovely she looked. I told her that

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it would give me great pleasure to sew more gowns for her. Surely this is what you heard, my lord.”

“My man Gwent hates cheats. I hate liars.” He calmly grabbed Glenda’s hand and dragged her to him. He stripped off the clothes she was wearing, new clothes, clothes she had not given over to Hastings the day before. He stripped her to her plump hide. He even pulled her out of her stockings and shoes.

“Now,” he said, “I believe there is something for you to wear in my mother’s old trunk. If you don’t wish to wear the rags you made her wear, then you may travel from Langthorne naked. It matters not to

») me.

“My lord, you cannot mean this. Surely, I cannot go out of here naked. The men would ravish me, they would-”

“That is likely,” Severin said, sounding bored. “Do what you want, Glenda. I just want you gone by the midday bells.”

He watched Glenda scurry from the bedchamber. He turned to his mother and smiled. “No one will ever torment you again. No one. I give you my oath on it.”

Lady Moraine was wringing her hands. “She is cunning, Severin. Sir Roger had no chance. He did not know that she dragged me from Langthorne and left me to die in the forest.”

“He should have known. He is a man. He is responsible for Langthorne and all its people. A man must be responsible for his actions. I will send Hastings to you. I wish to see color in your cheeks.”

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