A Bride for Lord Esher (10 page)

“Do you like my wedding gown?” asked Lady Sudbrooke. “I think it becomes me very well.”

“It looks well enough. I can see my money is already being put to good use.”

“Nothing but the best for us, Tom, I want the world to watch and be in awe.”

Mr. Warren played with the lace at his sleeve and sat down on a chest at the end of her bed. “I have a wedding gift for you,” he said.

“Oh, is it something I can wear?”

“Not exactly, though I’m sure it will illuminate your face. It is news.”

The look of satisfaction on his face she was certain mirrored on her own. She smiled. “Oh?”

“It seems Lord Esher’s wife is missing. Rumor has it she’s run away.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, apparently someone let slip she was a thief, I can’t imagine who, and the poor chit has run off to heaven’s only knows where. Pity. But I guess class will out in the end.”

Lady Sudbrooke smiled. “Yes, news like that does have a nasty habit of coming out, don’t you think.”

“Quite.”

“I imagine our set will see that as absolute proof of her guilt. Still, I wonder what Lord Esher will do now? Divorce her for desertion? Adultery? I can’t imagine the little slut will survive long without a man to protect her. All in all I think we did the poor man a favor, and I say, well done.”

Tom had been staring at the carpet but he now looked appraisingly at his fiancée’s gown. Something about it seemed to displease him.

“Is something wrong?” Lady Sudbrooke raised her hands over her head and inspected the skirts. Though the gown wasn’t finished, she could see nothing wrong herself. “Is it the color? My maid told me that pale gold was all the rage, should I have her whipped for a fool?”

“How willingly you like to inflict pain on others. I confess I rather like that in a wife. Come here.”

His fiancée stepped forward as requested, and though he stayed seated, Tom toyed idly with a bow sewn into the skirt. His hand slid down the fabric, tweaking another bow, and then another, until, finally, he had reached the hem, at which point his hands slipped under the dense fabric. She felt his hands on her stockings, where he caressed her ankles, and then he slowly sat upright supporting the hem of her skirt upon the upper part of his arms as he continued to rise. Up and up he went, until at last, he exposed the bare skin of her femininity. “Hold onto your skirts,” he said. “Hold them high.”

Lady Sudbrooke felt foolish and exposed, and she knew he was inspecting her, like a prize pig, and indignation flushed in her cheeks.

“Turn around.” Caroline’s legs turned a half circle, so her bare backside was close to his face, and once again she felt his hands on her skin, as he pulled her close to him. Suddenly, his lips closed around the flesh of a buttock, and he sucked it hard and long. It caused her no pain, but her sense of embarrassment was tremendous.

“There, that bruise marks you as mine,” Tom said. He then grabbed her by the hips and stood up behind her.

Without preamble or sentiment, Tom ran his hand between her legs and grabbed the soft folds within. “This is mine. Open your legs wider so I can examine you better.”

Lady Sudbrooke spread her legs a little further apart.

“Come, come, you can do better than that.” Tom urged her legs farther apart and propelled her over a nearby chest.

Caroline obeyed his guidance willingly. His fingers played across her intimates, making her tingle deep within.

“You know, I never really cared to have a wife, and while I can see there are definite advantages, the idea of being shackled to anyone for eternity seems to be quite absurd. And yet, here we are. I suppose I should make the most of it.”

Though her back was to him, and the bulk of her dress gathered around her shoulders prevented her from comfortably looking back, Lady Sudbrooke heard the swish of fabric as her fiancé undressed behind her. “I had thought to wait till tomorrow, when you became Lady Caroline Warren, but I confess I have an appetite for it now, so might as well begin the begetting of an heir. Hold yourself steady.”

Lady Sudbrooke felt the engorged flesh of his manhood hard against her back. Like before, he began by running it along the crease of her backside, and she held tightly onto her clothing to brace herself for what was to come.

She had heard whispers coupling could be a pleasurable thing, but she knew the first time would hurt. She braced herself for what was coming.

“Ah!” she cried out. He lingered but a moment, allowing her the chance to become accustomed. The rhythm he began brought both pleasure and pain.

Tom paid little heed to his bride’s desires. He sought his own release, though he found little pleasure in the deed. His efforts grew more intense until he reached his climax.

Caroline couldn’t deny the longing that built within her body. She needed
something
but found no relief. She heard him sigh and felt him withdraw before her needs were met.

“Well, it appears you were a virgin after all. Not anymore. I suggest you call for a servant, Caroline, there’s a mess to be cleared down there.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, my Lord.”

Tom surveyed his conquest and smiled to himself, knowing she could not see. “Are you satisfied? Do you like being manhandled?”

Caroline wasn’t quite sure how to answer. She might come to like it, but now she was left craving something more. “I am sure that I will learn to like it,” she answered diplomatically.

“Good,” was his only answer.

A moment later Caroline heard the door close behind his swift exit. She rose gingerly, her legs weak and shaky. She struggled to keep her skirts raised as she didn’t want them soiled. There was nothing for it, the clothes were sewn onto her and she would have to call a servant for help or risk destroying the silk. She rang the bell for assistance, fully aware of her compromised state.

Robert sat upon his favorite black stallion and looked from the top of a hill down to his manor. Black storms had turned the mood of his beautiful village and the prospect looked dull and dreary. For days now he had not slept and eaten little, and in spite of the weather, he had thought a ride would do him good and clear his mind. Yet even at a gallop, thoughts of Chastity tormented him. She had been missing for days. Yet even before her disappearance he had begun to doubt his own certainty in her guilt. In their brief time together she had asked him for nothing, and greater temptations had passed in front of her. It had been foolish not to investigate the matter more fully before returning her to her father, and for this he felt ashamed and repentant. And as the days and nights went by, he felt her absence more keenly.

Though he had sworn never to see her again, he had instructed Yates to keep an eye on her well-being, and the news of her flight left him in anguish. He had forgiven her father after all, and despite his avarice, Henry Howard trusted in the honor of his daughter and had simply reacted in her defense. A gentleman would have done no less. It had been an unfortunate encounter, but then what had been done could not be undone.

Frustrated, Lord Esher turned the exhausted animal homeward, and together they braced themselves against the driving rains. He would have ridden all morning, but his horse was exhausted, and it was unfair to burden the beast with his angst. His cloak did little to protect him, and underneath the heavy fabric he was soaked through to the skin.

Once at the manor, a stable boy stepped forward to take care of his horse, but he was not the only man dismounting. Yates, who also was wet through, had arrived just before him.

“Any news?” asked Lord Esher.

“Yes sir. I rode to her father’s place, as you asked. The young lady is still missing, but her father received a brief note from her.”

“What did the note say?”

“That she was well, but she did not want her father to come looking for her.”

“No clue of her whereabouts? Did you see the note?”

“None sir. Yes, he was good enough to let me look at it. There was nothing else upon it.”

“Damnation. Where the deuce is she?”

“Shall I run you a bath, sir?”

“No, see to yourself. I’m going to change horses and ride over to my sister’s house.”

As soon as a fresh horse was saddled, Lord Esher left the stables at a gallop and rode with a strange sense of purpose. It felt good to be doing something,
anything
, rather than languishing in self-misery and staring at the walls of his manor.

Chastity was alive, that was something. Not knowing where she was or how she fared had left him in utter despair. But the note had given him hope, and as the horse hooves beat out their rhythm, he vowed he would not rest until she was found. What then? Who knew, but he must find her, or die himself from the sorrow of her loss.

He found his sister was not at home, but Lord Ashworth, forced to miss his sports by the rain, was in his library. He sat talking to their mutual friend.

As ever, Tom was immaculately turned out, not a hair out of place, and the two men sat in front of a blazing fire, both quietly reading a book. Lord Ashworth was the first to rise, and Tom quickly followed.

“Ah, it’s good to see you Esher. Tom rode over to tell the news of his ennoblement, but the rains have kept him here longer than he expected, so we’re catching up on our reading as you see.”

“Lord Warren, at your service.” Tom bowed with a flourish. “Of course, the formal ceremony will be in a few months. With the wedding just behind me my life seems an endless succession of happy events.”

“And how is your bride?” Robert asked.

“Well enough. No doubt she will ride over when the weather clears, she never likes to be too far from my side.”

“I would find that rather irksome,” remarked Lord Ashworth.

Tom smiled, as if the thought had occurred to him also.

“What brings you over today, Esher? You were not expected?”

“No. But I had just received word of Lady Esher. Though I know little, I’ve heard she’s alive at least. I would find her, and came to ask if either of you hear any news of her, to report it to me at once.”

Tom arched his eyebrows. “I wonder at you caring, given her… disposition. May I suggest, as your friend, you are better off without her?”

Lord Esher cast him a dark look. “No, Tom, you may not. I don’t care what you think about Chastity, or of me for that matter. I have done her a wrong, I shouldn’t have abandoned her like I did, and I rue the day I took her back to her father’s place. It was done in the heat of the moment, and now she is gone, and I may never find her again. Your support is welcome, your derision is not.”

Tom shrugged as if the matter were of no consequence. He turned away, a vicious look in his cold eyes. “I wonder that a peer of the realm should so freely insult his friends, especially when the object in question is nothing more than a lowly tavern slut. Really, Esher, you should consider your words with more care.”

Robert half pulled his sword from its sheath. “How dare you, Tom. A man of honor would not say such things, ennobled or otherwise. I caution you not to speak again.”

Lord Ashworth stepped between them. “Really gentlemen, this is my house. Keep your warring to yourselves. I’ll have no blood shed here.”

The unarmed Tom threw his hands in the air and then poured himself a glass of wine. “Have no fear, Ashworth. The man calls himself a gentleman, but to threaten someone not carrying a weapon reeks of cowardice to me.”

Lord Esher’s hand flew back to the hilt of his sword. “You go too far, Warren.”

Tom’s glib manner incensed Lord Esher so much, that it was all he could do to stop himself running the man through where he stood. Still, he was in another man’s house and there were rules about such things. Instead his lips closed tight together, he nodded quickly to Ashworth, and left the room as fast as he could.

In her pride Chastity had left her husband’s jewels with her father. Her world had been upturned again when rumors hit their doorstep the girl was a thief. She would not bring any more shame to her father’s name, so in the dead of night she had packed her things in her trunk, and had slipped away on the evening post unseen. She regretted the decision to leave the jewels behind now, for the money she had from Lord Esher was running low, and he could hardly send her more if he didn’t know where she was.
Still, she was adamant about that. Whatever she did he must not find her. She could not bear the thought of knowing the man she loved was nearby, and yet be unable to have him.

To this end, Chastity had left all her fine clothes behind as well. Silks and satins were the garb of a lady, and such finery would betray her in an instant. Instead, she packed her clothes from before her marriage, which were few enough, and had fled to the south, where she hoped to find gainful employment.

It took three days to complete her journey to Hastings. A broken spoke delayed the coach while a wheelwright was sought to make the repair. It rained throughout the whole trip, and Chastity was forced to seek shelter in a small inn while the damage was set right. Though she ate light and took the smallest room available, the rates were exorbitant, and she finished the night all the poorer.

Just before the last stop on the coach, a young gentleman joined the traveling party. He dressed well, perhaps not in the finery of Lord Esher, but his clothes were well-made and respectable enough. There were two other travelers in the coach, and both seemed to be sleeping. Chastity thought the new passenger was about her own age, perhaps a little older, but the difference could not be much. He had a ready smile and an open forehead, and she thought his a handsome face, as yet untarnished by the cruelty of the world.

Though she was not inclined to talk, the young man, bored by the tedium of the journey, had other ideas. For a while he fiddled with his gloves, and then when he could sit in silence no longer, turned his full attention on Chastity.

“Do you travel far?”

Chastity cleared her throat. She had not spoken to a soul since she left the inn and her voice was rusty. “I am come out of Surrey.”