Alice And The Colonel

by Jaye Peaches

  “During long periods of war, a man must take his relief. Seeing such violence and subjugation… it is not healthy to the mind. I had lovers. I didn’t seek the common woman for my bed. They were women who sought a gentleman of class. They dressed in finery, and spoke with educated voices, but they knew their purpose—that I didn’t seek love, purely companionship in the bed.”

  Alice rested a hand on his smooth chest. His beating heart clearly felt under her palm. “Mistresses.”

  “Not many, one stayed by me for a year. A Spaniard. I am not a perfect man. However, I didn’t want to father unwanted children. It is necessary to protect the woman too.”

  Alice didn’t want to picture in her head her husband engaged in sex with other women, she dismissed the thoughts and focused on his handsome features, reminding herself he had chosen her and had shown no interest in other women.

  “It is the past,” she confirmed.

  “Yes. I have you now. My wife, who will respect me and serve me with her beauty and exquisite body.”

  Alice lapped up his compliment and pushed aside any doubts she harboured. Tomorrow, Caroline Fanshawe would visit and Alice was keen to form a lasting friendship.

  * * *

  Alice greeted Caroline on the porch of Westfell Hall, surrounded by busts on columns and gilt mirrors. The two women curtsied, bowing their heads before rising and offering each other smiles.

  Having been relieved of her hat and spencer jacket, Caroline gazed about the hallway.

  “Tea will be taken in the drawing room,” announced Alice. “But perhaps you would like me to show you around.” She held out an arm and started to walk to the main salon.

  “Oh, there is no need,” said Caroline. “I am very familiar with Westfell.”

  Alice halted. “You have visited before?”

  Her guest seemed quite relaxed and unfazed by her surroundings. “Many a time, although not for some years. Colonel Seymour has been absent for many years. The house has been shuttered and empty for a long spell. It looks splendid again, just as I remember it.”

  “Remember it.” An increasing sense of foreboding troubled Alice. Something felt very amiss.

  Opening the drawing room door, Alice invited Caroline across the threshold. “Please, do make yourself at home.”

  “He has had this room redecorated,” remarked Caroline pursing her lips and nodding approvingly. “A vast improvement.”

  “What other rooms have you been in?” Alice struggled to mask her apprehension. Her guest spoke with a level of familiarity that Alice did not expect from a casual acquaintance.

  Caroline swivelled and the smile left her face. “Is there something wrong, Mrs Seymour? Have I said something to offend you? You have gone a little pale.”

  “How long have you know the colonel?”

  “You do not know, do you?” Her hand covered her mouth and her skin went slightly pink. She spoke again with haste. “Oh dear. It wasn’t my intention to suggest any improprieties between myself and your husband.”

  “Then please explain yourself.”

  * * *

  Alice stormed into the study without knocking. Edmund, seated at his great desk, showed surprise at her unexpected appearance. Without pausing, she strode up to his desk.

  “How could you, Edmund!” she scolded, hot-cheeked and flustered. “Why did you not tell me you were engaged to Caroline? You have deceived me and now I find you are harbouring sentiments for another woman—”

  “Enough, Alice,” barked Edmund. “You are quite mistaken in your accusation.”

  “You do not deny it!” With a flick of her wrist she opened her fan and waved it frantically in front of her face, feeling the sun’s heat shining through the window.

  “We were engaged for a short period, then Caroline broke it off.” Edmund rose and tossed his pen onto the desk.

  “She broke it off, not you! You still love her, then. I am a poor substitute for her,” wailed Alice, feeling tears in her eyes.

  “It happened seven years ago, it was considered an honourable match and approved of by your father.”

  “So why did she break it off?” demanded Alice, stamping her foot.

  “She found out Frederick had gone missing in France, was being held captive and her attention became entirely focussed on him. She could offer me no more and although I helped locate her brother, and arranged for his exchange, she couldn’t be persuaded from her duty to Freddy.”

  “What of you, do you desire her still? Am I to be usurped? Is she to be another one of your mistresses?” Alice snivelled, horrified at the thought.

  “How dare you!” Edmund slammed his fist down on the desk, causing Alice to jump. “You assume too much about me and Caroline.”

  She could barely see him through her tear-filled eyes. “You’ve lied to me,” she whined. Her confidence crumbled.

  “I chose not to tell you for fear you would be filled with jealousy and my supposition has been proved correct.” He walked round the desk and approached her. Alice backed away as he stopped. His hands on hips, legs apart. He repeatedly shook his head, scowling at her. “It is most unfortunate that Caroline told you.”

  “You loved her, though, that is why you helped her and still do.” Tears tumbled down her cheeks.

  Edmund’s posture softened. The scowl went and he bowed his head slightly. “Yes, she broke it off, but I was relieved by her decision.”

  “Relieved?” She brushed away her tears with the back of her hand. He had to tell her the truth; she couldn’t face him in the bedroom if he wasn’t honest about his feelings towards her.

  “Yes,” He let out a deep sigh. “I began to believe we were not suited to each other.”

  Alice pictured the elegant Caroline and her refined manners. How could she not be suitable? “She is quite a lady. A good match. Intelligent, beautiful, a suitable age for you. How could she not be a good wife for you?”

  “She lacked… what you bring to our marriage.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She would have been perfect, a great hostess, accomplished in many areas, but she is unadventurous. She lacks your… spirit, spark.”

  “You confuse me, Edmund.” She slumped into a nearby chair. “You want me to be obedient and all the things you speak of in Caroline, and then you desire me to be what? Challenging?”

  “Alice, I expect your obedience, your respect, but I do not want a boring marriage. I have travelled, seen many sights, some horrific, others wondrous. I have had the company of great men. Caroline, a sweet, kind woman, and I could have so easily loved her, but she would never make me feel what I do towards you.”

  She perked up. “You didn’t love her,” repeated Alice, letting the words sink in. “I haven’t handled this very well, have I?” She bit her lip.

  “No.” He rubbed his forehead and puffed out his lips. “You lost your composure too readily. If you have something to discuss with me, please have the grace to do it with decorum. Charging in here like a regiment of cavalry is not going to go in your favour.”

  Alice smiled at the image of her on horseback. “No, I suppose not. I was a little cross though. You can understand why.”

  “Is Caroline still your friend?”

  “Yes. She was genuinely unaware of my ignorance and mortified at her forwardness. Apologised profusely over tea and we managed to part amicably. I assured her it was a matter between you and me. And it is, isn’t it?” A distance had opened up between them and all she wanted to do was remove it.

  Edmund took Alice’s hand and drew her up on to her feet. Lowering his mouth, he touched her lips with his own and gave her a gentle kiss. “You are quite breathless with anger. Hot too. You need to cool a little. That fan is not sufficient.”

  Alice’s throat constricted as he returned to kissing her. The fan slipped in her fingers, almost dropping to the floor. How could he take her from anger to passion so swiftly? Now, held tightly to his beating chest, she felt his erection against her belly
, prodding her into a further state of unravelling.

  “Edmund,” she murmured between his kisses. “I… am sorry.” His hands squeezed a breast and her faint voice stuttered. “However, I do believe I am justified”—the same hand travelled down her front and cupped her sex through the fabric of her dress—“in my grievances…” His other hand combed through her hair, twisting and twining strands amongst his fingers and transmitting tingles into her scalp. “Do you have any other secrets?”

  Edmund’s hand ceased their explorations and his lips moved off her neck where he had been teasing her with nibbling kisses. Pinching her chin between his fingers. “I have no further secrets to divulge. No clandestine lovers waiting in the wings to depose you. I am utterly yours.”

  Alice nodded, her eyes fixed on his, seeking any element of untruthfulness in his declaration. She truly hoped it was the case—that he had nothing more to hide. He had bared her soul many times, as well as her flesh, and he owed her the same courtesy.

  Breaking off from his sensory exploration, he propelled towards the desk. With a hand on her shoulders, he bent her over.

  The familiar quickening of her heartbeats heralded her exclamation. “What are you doing?”

  Edmund prised the fan from her hand and before she could protest again, he swiped it against her bottom. It barely registered through the layers of clothing.

  “Why are you spanking me?” said Alice astonished at the turn of events.

  Edmund didn’t answer, but continued to rain down swats with the fragile fan.

  “You will break it!” She could hear the delicate ivory sticks rattling together and knew they would not survive his spanking.

  “I can afford to buy you another,” he chuckled.

  Even for a lightweight implement, Alice noticed the growing stings, as he aimed repeatedly in the same spot, right where her bottom normally rested on a seat.

  “Ow!” she gasped, stamping her feet on the rug.

  The inevitable happened: the ivory disintegrated into shards and landed on the floor with a gentle clatter. Offering her a steadying hand, Edmund helped her stand upright.

  She gazed up at him. His supposed stern expression failing to hide a comical undertone. He had enjoyed administrating the spanking, she felt sure of it. She didn’t mind. It mirrored her own ambivalent thoughts—the shame of being spanked with her own fan and the excitement of being bent over his desk, a fiery cheek pressed on his ink blotter while his firm hand rested on her lower back. “Very well. The next time I have an important matter to discuss with you, some thing that causes me vexation, I will not storm in here as if it were the Bastille.”

  He grinned. “Good, I do not welcome cavalry charges with teeth bared.”

  She couldn’t resist showing him her spirited nature, the one he implied he preferred. “What if I were to knock and march in as a foot soldier?”

  “Less marching, but certainly more agreeable.” He adjusted a lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear with a flick of his finger. Each of his little touches sent her pulse racing.

  Reaching over his desk, Edmund picked up a piece of paper, upon which was a list of names and handed it to Alice. “These will be the invited guests to our ball. I think it will meet with your approval.”

  She jumped up and down on the spot with glee. “The invitations—”

  “Will be sent out shortly. Now, perhaps we might continue this conversation later, in the bedchamber?”

  “Indeed, indeed, sir,” said Alice pompously in a masculine tone. As she went to dash out of the room, his hand swooped down for one last thunderous smack on her rump.

  Chapter Ten

  It came as some surprise to Edmund how little Alice had ridden a horse. A man accustomed to spending days in the saddle, covering many miles on rough terrain, could not comprehend how his wife showed little enthusiasm for the independence of horse riding.

  “My parents insisted I went everywhere in a carriage or by foot if the weather permitted,” she told him over dinner not long after they had been married.

  The matter had to be remedied. He could not imagine going everywhere in a carriage and he wanted her by him always. “I shall teach you to ride side saddle. There is a very suitable mare who has been trained to take the saddle.”

  Over the weeks of late spring and early summer, Edmund endeavoured to take his wife out at least twice a week. Alice, initially, had been a nervous rider. Her balance thrown by having both legs to one side. He had encouraged her gently and with considerable patience, never shouting or bullying her, merely making brief suggestions: hold the reins thus; use the crop to cue the horse when the heel of your shoe is lacking; stay in line with the horse’s spine.

  By the time they had come back from visiting Dodsworth, Alice’s confidence had grown immeasurably and in Edmund’s opinion, too cocksure.

  On one bright August afternoon, he had proposed a ride out to a stone folly, which although clearly visible from the house, lay on the boundary of the estate. Alice donned her riding dress, hat and leather boots, and duly joined Edmund at the entrance to the house. Presented with a stool by a groom, Alice mounted and positioned herself upright as instructed by Edmund. He gave her a nod of approval.

  The fine weather had continued into August and the meadows had filled with long grasses and wildflowers. Trotting along the valley, the horses began their ascent up the slopes of a hill. In the distance, the rotunda folly grew in size as they approached. Some quarter of a mile short, Alice had spied a fallen tree in their path and pulled up.

  He considered it a large obstacle and quite beyond her skills to jump over. “We shall go round.” He collected his reins and encouraged his ride to walk towards the far side of the path.

  She didn’t follow him. “I can jump it easily.” She peered up the hill.

  He tugged on the reins. His horse neighed as he held the beast in check. “It is larger than you think, dearest. Neither do you know what lies on the other side.”

  “Nothing but the grass I should think.” Alice tapped her crop on the mare’s rump. “I have managed a few jumps before now.”

  Edmund wielded his frisky horse about. “A timber joist is not the same as a downed tree. We go around.”

  She ignored him. “I know I can do this. Let me prove it to you.”

  Edmund, his eyes on his wife’s eager face, sighed in disappointment. Her attitude had improved greatly over the weeks of their marriage, yet now and again, she seemed intent on pushing him, testing his authority as her husband. A hand on his hip and facial expression fixed at his most sternness, he reiterated his command. “We go around.”

  “What is wrong with a little adventure in life? We are quite so in the bedroom.” Alice had the audacity to say to him.

  He fought to keep his temper. “Alice, do not trivialise such matters. I expect your obedience at all times, wherever. Now, keep your ride by mine.”

  A fit of pique appeared to overcome Alice, as if his instruction was borne out of a desire to annoy her, rather than ensure her safety. Before he could point out his intention to keep her safe, she kicked her left heel, flicked the crop in her right hand and chivvied her mount into a brisk canter towards the log.

  “No!” He watched in horror as his wife charged at the fallen tree. Kicking his own steed on a path that detoured the obstacle, he tried to reach the other side before she did. It was futile. Her horse, far from being put off by the makeshift hurdle, had taken to the notion of leaping over it with gusto.

  As the horse rose, taking off, she let out a whoop and then her whole figure shifted to one side as she struggled to keep her balance in the saddle. Coming down on the other side, the horse stumbled, flinging Alice’s body forward, her nose nearly striking the mare’s neck. She managed to cling on and keep her seat.

  Edmund watched the near disastrous jump play out in slow motion, his heart in his throat. Having reached the other side of the tree still mounted, Alice, the reins slack in her hands, lost control of her energetic
steed and the horse charged up the hill at a pace with Alice shrieking.

  Setting off at gallop, Edmund drove his stallion in pursuit. The larger, more powerful horse, caught up with Alice’s and with the expertise of a cavalrymen, Edmund reached over and grabbed her reins.

  Her spooked mare, dragged to Edmund’s side, lost pace quickly and calmed. Edmund brought the horses to a halt. He didn’t let go of the reins while the horses snorted and neighed in frustration. Both wanted the thrill of a gallop.

  Edmund could clearly see the panic stamped on his wife’s face. Her head turned, her eyes wide open and mouth dropped open in breathlessness.

  “Thank you,” she gasped.

  Her lips quivered and hands shook as she retook the reins from him, but she seemed unable to grip them tightly. Seeing her distressed state, he dismounted and took his own reins over the stallions head before taking hers again. He lead his wife up the hill to the folly, and there allow her to dismount. Nothing was said as he led the two jostling horses to the stone monolith.

  Rotund, domed and surrounded by columns, the folly had been an ambitious addition to the landscape by his grandfather; the imposing exterior visible for miles about.

  Tethering the horses to iron rings left in the columns for such a purpose, he helped Alice down, steadying her via tight grip on her elbow. He held his anger in check as he clutched her to his pounding chest. How close she had come to a serious accident he dreaded to contemplate.

  “Foolish girl,” he admonished.

  Stepping back, he cupped her face with his hands, stroking his thumbs down her flushed cheeks. To his surprise, he saw no tears or fear in her eyes. Instead, Edmund witnessed elation, an expression many a soldier showed after surviving a fierce battle. The sense of achievement and good fortune would keep their courage intact; ready for the next slaughter. Edmund would never dissuade his men from overcoming fear, ensuring they marched into battle eagerly once again. His wife on the other hand was a different matter. He could not trust her to ride alone if she lacked the judgement to assess the dangers about her.