Read Miranda's Mount for Free Online Page B

off.
    She watched him jog down the stone steps of the armoury and across the now deserted castle courtyard until, finally, he disappeared down a narrow path that wound its way to the harbour. The way he’d dashed off made her think he was planning to run away from the Mount again. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
    On balance, she thought with a shiver, she rather hoped Jago would stay.
    When she finally got back to her cottage that evening, it was gone nine o’clock. She listened to a message from Theo saying he’d call in the next day and then fell asleep on the bed in her uniform.
    When she awoke, the bedside clock said 1 am, Miranda’s heavy limbs said 6 am would come round all too soon, yet her thoughts tossed about like a skiff on a stormy sea. The curtains stirred in the breeze and the scent of salt and ozone wafted over her. She’d left the casement window open, hoping the air would circulate as she lay awake, and that she’d be lulled asleep by the halyards clanking on the yachts in the harbour. Instead, she tossed and turned in her bed. Grit prickled her eyelids and her legs ached. Years of walking up and down the steep slopes had kept her fit but she was exhausted by the events of the past few days. She thumped her pillow and flopped back against it with a sigh. The window creaked open as the wind from the Atlantic freshened and changed direction. Out here on the island, even though it was barely a mile from shore, the weather could change from mild to angry in minutes. She started to slide into that half-asleep state where fantasy and the real world mesh and the subconscious reigns.
    Ashadowy figure climbed through the window.
    ‘My lord?’
    Miranda gasped as Jago appeared at the foot of her bed, silhouetted against the moonlight streaming through the window. He wore a billowing white shirt and dark breeches tucked into leather top boots but she didn’t find his outfit at all strange.
    ‘Lord St Merryn. Wh-what are you doing here?’
    He smiled in a way that made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickle. ‘Come now, you must know, Miranda.’
    She pulled the sheet up to her neck; despite the fact that in her fantasy, she wore a full-length nightgown like her great-grandmother used to own.
    ‘Don’t do that.’ He crossed the room, his boots thudding on the floorboards.
    She twisted the sheet tightly in her fists. ‘You shouldn’t be here!’
    He saton the bed next to her, a wolfish smile on his lips. ‘I can do anything I want. This is my land, my home.’
    ‘But it’s my room.’
    ‘No, Miranda, it’s
my
room. Everything here is mine.’ He reached out and touched her cheek. ‘Including you.’
    In a flash, Jago tore the sheet from her hands and flung it back, revealing Miranda’s nightgown. She tried to let out a shriek but her vocal cords were paralysed in contrast to every nerve which zinged and tingled.
    ‘You’ve heard about
droit de seigneur
. Well, I’m here to claim mine.’
    He pulled off his boots and climbed onto the bed, making the mattress creak alarmingly. She tried to move her arms to fend him off but they seemed to be paralysed too. He sat astride her and lowered his head close to hers. His hair was loose. She made a monumental effort and found her voice but it sounded far away.
    ‘But I’m not getting married, my lord, and I’m um … actually not a virgin.’
    Jago started to unbutton his breeches. ‘If you’re already a strumpet then I’m definitely going to take you.’
    ‘Um … no,’ she whispered, aware that she didn’t sound very convincing. ‘You really shouldn’t, my lord.’
    ‘Shouldn’t? Who are you to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do, wench?’
    Jago grabbed the hem of her nightgown and ripped it apart, from bottom to top, exposing her naked body. She cried out and sank back onto the pillows, helpless to resist as he closed his mouth around her exposed nipple. As he sucked, she let out a groan as all her senses