Scandals of Lustful Ladies: A Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Meghan Sloan

  It had been so very easy to dismiss him as a bastard child, as society taught. But seeing the reality of this small child, abandoned by his mother, pulled at her heartstrings. The circumstances of his birth were not his fault, nor was the fact that his mother did not want to have anything to do with him. In God’s eyes, he was an innocent.

  And she knew what it felt like to be abandoned. It had only been her husband, who had done it to her – a man who she had never really loved, anyway. How much worse would it be to be abandoned by a mother, who was the one person on earth who was supposed to love you, no matter what?

  Suddenly, her own situation seemed so much better by comparison. She had been dwelling in her misery over it, but seeing this little child, who might have ended up in an orphanage, poor and unloved if it wasn’t for the man in front of her, cleared it completely.

  “Bye,” said the boy, waving a chubby hand.

  “Bye,” she said, smiling.

  The Duke walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He shot her a look of gratitude, just before he closed it. Their eyes met, and held, for just a second.

  ***

  He returned to her in just under an hour, knocking on the door again. When she opened it this time, she was glad that he was there. Without a word, she let him in.

  There was a strained silence, for a moment, before he turned to her, his green eyes intense.

  “I know that it was a cheap trick to bring Ben to you,” he said in a strangled voice. “But I had to make you see that he is just a small child, and not the demon that society would have you believe.”

  Hetty felt utterly ashamed of herself. “Of course he is just a child,” she said, her voice trembling. “And he deserves extra love because of what has happened to him. I do not blame him in any way for the circumstances of his birth. You must believe me.”

  He looked touched. “Thank you,” he said. “It has been a hard road. There are some who would have nothing to do with him because he is illegitimate. He will face prejudice, wherever he goes in life, even if he is the son of a duke.”

  She nodded. “You shall bring him up to believe in himself, I am sure …”

  He stepped closer to her, taking her hand in his. “I want both of us to bring him up,” he said softly, his eyes ardent. “I shall stand by you regardless, Hetty. But will you stand by me?”

  She felt a deep yearning in her innermost soul.

  “How can I trust you?” she whispered. “Why did you not tell me of his existence, before?”

  “How could I?” he whispered back. “You were so very hurt, and distrustful of me. I thought that if I told you about Ben, straight away, that you would never consider me as a suitor. That I would never get the chance to woo you.”

  She took a deep breath. “And you have told me the whole truth, now? You swear it?”

  He nodded, his eyes shining. “I swear it, Hetty,” he whispered. “Everything that I told you in the garden today is the truth. The way that I met Rachel, our relationship, her abandonment of our child … everything.” He hesitated. “And the way that I have always felt about you. My desire to get the chance to love you properly, and marry you.”

  She couldn’t help it. A single tear coursed down her cheek. Her heart swelled with love for him.

  Could she do it? Could she cross that bridge and truly trust him? Believe in his love for her, and her for him? Suddenly, she wanted to, so very much. She wanted to believe that he was telling her the truth and that it was possible that she could be loved and love in return. That her experience with Frank Blackmore was not the end of her, and she had to bury herself in a convent, scared of life and love.

  Hesitantly, slowly, he reached out, stroking her face. The touch was tender. She moaned, turning her face into his palm, and kissing it.

  The effect was immediate. He scooped her up in his arms, kissing her desperately. She responded with alacrity, kissing him back so that they were twisted in passion. Her body felt like it had suddenly been set on fire.

  “I love you so much, Hetty,” he whispered. “You are the only woman for me. I would walk over hot coals, for you …”

  “I love you, too,” she whispered back, her voice choking.

  The words, once released, felt incredibly freeing. As if she had just lifted a great weight off her shoulders.

  She had never dreamt that such love was possible. Nor that it could be so hard to get to it. All of her doubts and her fears suddenly melted away like ice underneath the sun. She physically felt them unravelling within her.

  Yes, he had lied by omission to her. But for good reason. And she realised now that this man’s honour was not in question. He had brought his illegitimate son into his home, caring for him, after his mother abandoned him, flying in the face of convention. If that was not the action of a good man, then she did not know what was.

  And he was determined to win her despite her own disgrace and the low probability that she would ever be divorced. He did not care about what society thought of her, any more than he did not care what society thought about his illegitimate son. He was brave, and he was courageous. He had the heart of a lion.

  Suddenly, he scooped her up, sweeping her off the ground as if she were as light as a feather. Tenderly, he placed her upon the bed, his mouth never leaving hers.

  And then, he was trailing kisses down her neck, finding her breasts. She moaned, deep in her throat, as his mouth descended on a nipple, sucking and nipping. Instinctively, she arched her back, filled with a fire that she was scared would consume her entirely.

  His mouth travelled lower, and suddenly – shockingly – he buried his head beneath her gown, pulling at her undergarments. She gasped as she felt his mouth touch her in her most intimate place. There was the hot wetness of his tongue against her flesh. He was licking her, lapping at her. She turned her head, putting her fist into her mouth as the most incredible sensations started to rise within her, growing stronger with every moment.

  She heard a moan, realising with shock that it had come from her own mouth. He licked her harder, almost in a frenzy. She felt a hot burst of wetness seep out of her. She had never dreamt that such a thing was possible. How had she never heard of it?

  She twisted on the bed almost in agony, clutching the bed covering, her hands balled into fists. He reached up, putting his hands over hers, forcing them down as he continued his bewildering attentions.

  She felt like she was climbing, soaring, towards something that she did not know nor understand. An incredible sweetness. It was growing ever stronger, more intense, so fierce, that she cried out.

  Abruptly, suddenly, the feelings peaked, a potent rush of sweetness that she could barely endure. She cried out again, twisting on the bed, as she felt a hot sweat break out all over her. For one dizzying moment, she hovered in the halls of ecstasy before she felt the sensations slowly subsiding.

  It was over. She slowly opened her eyes, confused. It was as if she had lost all sense of time and place. Outside the window, it was dark now. An indigo sky, almost like a bruise. She knew that she would never forget it.

  He held her in his arms, gazing down at her tenderly, reaching out to pull a stray hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear.

  “Happy?” he whispered, his eyes trailing over her face.

  “Very happy,” she whispered back, blushing. “I simply had no idea that such pleasure was possible. That you could make me feel such things …”

  He laughed softly. “I am glad that you experienced it for the first time with me, Hetty,” he whispered, tenderly kissing her on the cheek. “It is the love between a man and a woman. Part of the many things that can happen when we lie together. There is so much more to explore, so much more to discover.” He hesitated. “But now is not the time. It is almost the hour for dinner, and I do not want your mother knocking on the door, demanding to know what is going on.”

  Hetty gazed at him, in wonder. How was it possible that he could do that to her? And suddenly, she k
new, without a shred of doubt, that she would never have experienced anything like this if she was still with Frank. That it would have been the chore that her mother spoke about the night before her wedding.

  Because it was his love that had unleashed it. It was his hands, alone. It was the way that he held her, so tenderly, and every look that he gave her. It was a million things that added to the total. He did truly love her. It was there, in every touch.

  And it was her love for him, as well. Her love for this honourable man, who had worked patiently to win her trust and her heart.

  “You have made me the happiest man in the world,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “It has been worth everything to see you here like this, shaking with pleasure. Everything, Hetty.”

  She reached up, kissing him ardently. Lost in him, once again.

  She knew that the chances were slim that she would ever get her divorce. She knew that she might never end up as this man’s wife.

  But suddenly, she was willing to risk it all, for that slim chance. For the possibility of lying in this man’s arms like this, every single night of her life.

  Chapter 15

  Hetty walked down the path, with Della nipping at her heels. She barely noticed. Her legs felt like they had suddenly turned to jelly. Quickly, she found a chair, sinking into it gratefully.

  They had just been informed that the court was granting her petition for a divorce. The hearing was scheduled to happen in three weeks’ time.

  She took a deep breath, trying to process how she felt. The truth was since she had returned to Hillsworth House, she had barely thought about it. She had been too preoccupied with her newfound love for Louis. It had consumed her thoughts, every waking hour of the day, deepening by the moment. She had managed to push the possibility of the hearing far away in her mind, as she lived in the moment, revelling in their love.

  Of course, it had always been there, like a nagging toothache, at the back of her mind. The fear that it might never happen. That she would never have the chance to marry Louis. That it had taken so long for her to admit her love for him, and that it would wither on the vine, never have the chance to blossom, the way that it should.

  And now, it was here. It was coming. Her chance to move on, once and for all.

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  She stared out over the landscape, lost in contemplation. It was probably a good thing that Louis wasn’t here at this moment. Ben had a small cold, and he was worried about the boy and wanted to be with him, which she understood completely. She needed time to be alone, and reflect on what was about to happen, anyway. To prepare herself for the emotional onslaught of it.

  Her father was in his study, at this very moment, penning a letter to Frank Blackmore, in France, informing him of the date of the hearing. Frank would have a chance to be there, and to respond, as was his right. They were doing everything scrupulously by the book. They did not want the petition thrown out, or dismissed, on any slight technicality.

  She trembled at the thought of facing Frank in court for the first time since he had deserted her.

  Would she not be able to speak, with his presence? Would she become tongue-tied, and lose her courage? Would her emotions overwhelm her again, the fierce anger, and hurt, when she needed to be focused and calm? It was so difficult to know. But one thing was certain: she had to face it, whatever it might be.

  Her father had warned her that they would ask difficult questions. Perhaps they would ask intimate questions. It was all part of their process to establish what had happened and what had gone wrong in the short marriage. She must brace herself for it. She must stay calm and answer truthfully and to the best of her ability.

  If she were successful, then she would be a divorcee. The first divorcee in her district. No other lady that she knew of had ever taken such a step before. It was instant social death, even more than being abandoned.

  Most couples who could not live together as man and wife, for whatever reason, never officially divorced. And they were few and far between, anyway. Most people stayed together, even if they were unhappy. Even if the lady was miserable and treated abominably because the price of freedom was simply too high.

  I shall be a divorcee, she thought, turning the word over in her mind. A shamed woman. A fallen woman.

  She took a deep breath, trying to quell the unease in her chest. It was worth it, if she could be free of Frank Blackmore, once and for all, and right the wrong that had been done to her. Besides, if she was successful, Louis had promised to marry her, straight away. They would travel to Gretna Green so that they didn’t have to post the bans. She would only be a divorcee for a very little while, after all.

  She thought of the alternative. The divorce could be denied. And instead of dealing with the shame of being a divorcee, she would be forever known as Mrs Blackmore and never able to marry Louis, at all. Her heart clenched at the very thought of it.

  He claimed that he loved her, had always loved her, and would wait for her forever. But how long could he be expected to do such a thing if this petition was not successful? They could appeal, and appeal again, but still, it might never happen. He would be wasting his life, and his youth, on her. Because she knew that she could never live with him, as his mistress.

  And he had Ben to think about. The young boy needed a mother. Would it be kinder, if it dragged on indefinitely, to simply set Louis free, and let him love again? Her heart ached at the very thought of it, but she had to face that prospect, as well. She would not let him give up his life for her. It would be too cruel.

  She knew that there was no possibility of joining a convent now. Not since they had declared their love for each other. Come what may, she was committed to him, and would not run away to escape the scandal.

  He had made a woman out of her. He had loved her and touched her most profoundly, bringing her to life. A life that she could just glimpse, over the horizon. Was it truly possible that they could get there? That there was a rainbow, just for them, shimmering with colour, leading them to that pot of gold? Or were they destined never to be together?

  ***

  The next day, he came thundering through the gates of Hillsworth House on his horse. Before she could even get to the door, he burst through it, his eyes anxiously scanning the room. When he saw her, he strode to her, not even bothering to take off his hat.

  “Is it true?” he whispered, his eyes searching her face. “Has a date been set for the hearing?”

  She nodded. “It is true,” she answered, her heart quickening. “How did you know?”

  He smiled wryly. “Your father sent me a letter, by urgent messenger,” he said, taking off his hat and throwing it on the hallstand in the corner. He was peeling off his gloves, too. “I received it just this morning. I had to come to you …”

  She bit her lip. “I am glad that you are here,” she whispered. “How is Ben?”

  His smile widened. “Sitting up in his bed, demanding cake,” he said, rolling his eyes. “His sniffles are gone, as is his cough. He shall be tearing around the nursery before the day is out, I shouldn’t wonder.”

  She smiled. “I am glad to hear it,” she said, a little wistfully. “I wish that I could be there, with him …”

  “He misses you,” said Louis. “Only yesterday, he asked when Hetty is coming back. You made an impression on him in the short time you were at Warwick Manor.” He paused. “But that is no wonder. You make an impression wherever you go, my love.”

  She blushed, inordinately pleased to hear that Ben missed her. She had spent hours with the small child in the few days she had been at Warwick Manor. One morning, she had taken him on a short walk through the gardens, stopping to pick up a ladybug, smiling at the look of complete wonder on his face. Another day, they had played with his toy soldiers on the nursery floor, setting up a battlefield.