Bryan followed, his watery blue eyes gleaming in the dust mote-laden dimness. An ugly grin split his features, his teeth yellowed and in need of cleaning. He’d declined so much in the past five years; it was difficult understanding how quickly it had occurred.

“Couldn’t wait to see me, could ya?”

Celia shivered. She’d not dressed for the chilly environs of a hayloft. It was much colder up here than it was down below where the horses’ body heat kept the stalls warm.

“Once I give you this money, you will leave and never come back,” she replied, pulling out the notes. She placed it on a hale bale, then added the bracelet to the small paper pile. “It is all I have,” she lied.

Bryan picked up the money, an expression of mistrust twisting his mouth into a scowl. “What’s this? I don’t want paper. I need gold. Gold sovereigns.”

Celia drew up straighter. She would not be afraid of this man. She was stronger than him, no matter that her hands were shaking. “It is more money than you would make in a year on a groom’s wage. And the bracelet is pure gold and opals. It is more than enough to buy your silence and give you a reason to go far away from here.”

“I don’t want paper.” He snarled again. “Hard to buy me drink with scraps of paper.”

“It is all I have. It is either this or nothing. It’s half the pin money the marquess gave me. I cannot give you any more. He will become suspicious of its spending if I’ve nothing to show for it.”

Bryan stared at her, frustration evident in the clenching of his teeth. He stepped closer, and Celia retreated until there was nowhere else to go. She now stood on the edge of the platform with the hard cobblestone floor of the aisleway far below.

“Half, eh?” A calculating glint lit his eyes. “Then you can get more?”

Celia choked on the bolt of panic swelling in her chest. “You must leave, Bryan! Please, I cannot deceive my husband in this manner. I cannot steal from him over and over to pay you. Your blackmail will cost us both our lives. Don’t you see that?”

The man moved so quickly, Celia did not realize his intent until he had her by the face, his hand gripping her cheeks and squeezing tight.

Please don’t let him leave bruises.

“Either you keep bringing the money I want, or I’ll take payment in other forms.” He brushed his mouth against hers until Celia gagged. “I’ve always fancied a tumble with a duchess. But I guess a marchioness will do just fine in your case.”

Celia grabbed his hands with hers, pulling hard until his grip loosened. “I-I will bring you money, Bryan. But I cannot do it this week. You must wait until I’m given more pin money.”

He released her with a cruel laugh. “I may hang around for a long time with that sort of motivation. But every now and then, milady, I need a bonus. The feel of your sweet cunny on my cock next time you bring me money will do just fine.”