Page 30 of Memories Made At Midnight

Beatrice tugged ineffectually, trying to free herself. Icy fear slithered up her spine when, instead of heeding her efforts, Dungworth wrapped his other ham-fisted palm around her free arm and jerked her toward him.

Beatrice gasped in pain.

She would bear bruises by tomorrow.

Nala issued a warning growl low in her throat.

Fur raised, Teddy crouched low, prepared to spring to Beatrice’s defense.

Stupid, stupid Dungworth, oblivious to the dogs’ aggression, dragged Beatrice nearer and attempted a slobbery kiss. She quickly averted her face, his fat, wet lips skidding across her cheek to her ear, leaving a putrid saliva trail on her skin.

“How d-dare you?” She wrested a hand free and slapped him with all her strength, the sound echoing in the still evening. “I shall n-never marry you. Never!”

Nala lunged and Teddy dove.

The boarhound clamped her jaws on Dungworth’s ample behind as Teddy sank his sharp teeth into the fiend’s calf.

Howling in pain, Dungworth promptly released Beatrice’s other arm and cupped his portly rump with one hand and his calf with the other.

“Now I understand why no man will have you, and why your uncle cannot wait to be rid of you,” he growled between his stained teeth. “You’ll end up a dried-up spinster.”

“Far better than tied to a slovenly, obese wretch for life.”

She turned and ran to her bedchamber, dogs at her heels, and locked the door behind her.

Leaning against the wood panel, her heart pounding in her throat and hands clammy with fear-induced sweat, Beatrice closed her eyes.

What have I done?