That woke her up. She spluttered and swung around for her face towel which she found after a moment’s groping about. Then she set about cleaning her teeth with the small horsehair brush she used for that purpose. Her store of toothpowder was running low, she noted. Usually, she made this once a month with her aunt, from powdered castile soap, camphor, and charcoal, but she would need to make her own supplies in future. Perhaps she ought to make a list of ingredients she would need for that and her mouth rinse?
Consulting the small square mirror Benedict used for shaving, she saw the purple of her eye looked a little more yellowish in hue today. Catching sight of her hair, which resembled a rat’s nest, Lizzie gave a muffled squeak and grabbed her hairbrush. Each time she passed it through her locks, she snagged it on another concealed hairpin. She would never drink fruit punch again, however delicious. The mere thought of it this morning turned her stomach.
By the time she had thoroughly washed with soap, dressed her hair, and donned her underwear, she heard a fumbling at the door and snatched up her dress to hold it before her. Benedict’s face appeared framed in the doorway.
“You’re up,” he said climbing inside. “I bought you a currant bun,” he said setting it on the side. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now I’ve washed and cleaned my teeth.”
He nodded. “You’ll feel even better when you’ve eaten something. Come here and let me look at your eye.”
Lizzie dropped her dress onto the bed and stepped around it to stand before him. Benedict tipped her head back and gazed down at her eye. “It looks a little better, I think,” she said self-consciously.
He grunted and turned away to the door. “Come out when you’re ready, the kettle’s on.”
Lizzie made haste to dress, though her every movement felt sluggish and clumsy. When she joined Benedict moments later by the fire, he was already pouring the tea into their cups. She took a seat, and Sebastian touched his nose to her knee. Lizzie fondled the dog’s ears, and he settled beside her to gnaw his bone.
“Thank you,” Lizzie said taking her teacup and warming her hands against it. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“Don’t be,” he answered with a shrug. “Everyone needs to cut loose once in a while.”
Lizzie colored and avoided his eye. She had a feeling he was waiting for the opportunity to say something. She had thought it must be a scolding about her disgraceful intoxication, but clearly that had not been it.
She wracked her brains for what else it could be. The only other thing she had done that he didn’t know about was meeting with her uncle in the tea tent. She felt a sudden panic that someone else might have seen her there and told him of it.
She eyed Benedict uneasily as he kicked his boot against a pile of logs next to the fire. These weren’t fallen branches but had been chopped. “Here’s a pile for you to keep adding to the fire today.” Lizzie looked up at him in surprise. Was she to stay put, then? His face grew stern. “I want you to stay here and rest today, Lizzie.”
“But I feel fine now!”
“Connie and the others have moved on, so there’s no reason for you to come into the fair. You can sit here quietly and … finish your sewing,” he suggested.
Lizzie opened and closed her mouth. Was he angry with her? “Is this about my uncle’s visit?” she blurted in a panic. “Because if so, I doubt very much I will ever see him again.”
Benedict’s frown deepened. “Your uncle?” he repeated looking thunderstruck. “What do you mean?”
It dawned on Lizzie that she was barking up the wrong tree. Her wits were most definitely blunted today. “Oh,” she said lamely. “You didn’t mean that.”
“When did he visit?” Benedict demanded.
“It was before Daphne punched me, so it sort of slipped my mind, you see.”
“It slipped your mind?” he repeated incredulously. Then his expression grew grim. “What did he want?”
Lizzie waved a hand. “Oh, it was just a misunderstanding – ” she started, but Benedict crouched down before her, forcing her to meet his eyes.
“What-did-he-want?” he repeated direly.
“To escort me to some sort of charitable institution for fallen women,” Lizzie admitted with a sigh. “At least I think that was the gist of it.”
“What?” Benedict exploded.
“He seemed to be under the impression we were only masquerading as a married couple.”
Benedict seemed to be having some difficulty catching his breath. Lizzie watched him with some concern. “I set him right, of course,” she hastened to explain.
“He wanted to take you off – ”
“No, no – ”
“And you did not come and fetch me?” he demanded wrathfully.
“Benedict, it wasn’t really like that! He just wanted to do his Christian duty by me. Once I had explained – ”
He dragged her up out of her seat, his hands gripping her upper arms. “If he or anyone else from your past should ever appear again, I want you to fetch me, Lizzie. Do you understand?”
Lizzie nodded. “Yes.”
“I want your word on that,” he said grimly.
“Yes, I promise.”
He glared at her wordlessly for a minute, and Lizzie thought it was touch and go. Then he hauled her against his chest.
“Son of a bitch,” he swore viciously, and then his mouth was on hers, hot and demanding, his fingers wrapped around her jaw, urging her participation.
Lizzie reeled under the onslaught and clung to his shirt front for dear life. He was not gentle, but for some reason, she found she did not mind so much. When he tore his mouth from hers, she almost sobbed aloud with disappointment.
“We’ll speak more about this later,” he said with a scowl. Lizzie nodded dumbly, pulling her shawl back around her shoulders for she had almost lost the garment in their tussle. “Don’t let the fire die out,” he said direly. “And put some more ointment on that eye!”
He flung off in a high dudgeon, and Lizzie watched him stride away with some consternation. Glancing back down, she saw Sebastian had not even troubled to raise his head from his paws. His eyes flickered to meet hers for an instant before he glanced away, looking embarrassed by the scene he had been forced to witness. Clearly, Sebastian was only too well aware she was in no danger from her husband however much he might carry on.
Putting a hand to her spinning head, Lizzie lowered herself back onto her seat. She raised her cup to her lips with a shaking hand. She would finish her tea and then fetch those half-finished curtains outside to complete. The fair was at Putney Heath for another three days, she thought. How was she supposed to occupy herself during that time now the Wonderous Females tent had moved on?
Lizzie sat sewing beside the fire for the next couple of hours. She finished her curtains and even had a go at fixing them to the windows. Admittedly, the results were mixed. There were none of the traditional fixings in place, and only a piece of twine slung across to hang them from. Lizzie surveyed the result with dissatisfaction. She would have to ask Benedict to take a look at it. Maybe with some better string they would hang better.
Returning outside, she considered what she could turn her hand to next. Glancing at the sky, she guessed the time to be about four o’clock. If she did not put another log on the fire, then it was about to go out. Lizzie debated a moment. What she really needed to do was prepare some more toothpowder and mouth rinse. For that she would need peppermint oil and cloves as well as the ingredients she had already noted down.
After all, why should she not do a little shopping for some household items? They needed soap, more lemons and sugar too. Connie had paid her yesterday, and she still had not spent most of her previous wages. There were sure to be some shops nearby, and she could easily ask for directions.
Her mind made up, Lizzie returned to the wagon for her cloak and bonnet before setting off in the opposite direction to the fairground, Sebastian close on her heels.
&n
bsp; 25
Benedict’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. He peered around the cabin again for the third time. She was definitely gone. Then he noticed the new curtains. Both sets. That calmed him a little. She couldn’t have been gone long and if her intention had been to leave him, then she would hardly have waited to finish them first.
Jumping down onto the ground, he forced himself to rationalize this. The dog was gone too. If she had been snatched by relatives, they would not have taken an animal that would plainly have been hostile to his mistress’s abductors.
Benedict looked at the pile of logs which he’d left her. It was only half-diminished. It was that point that he heard his name called. Looking up, he scanned around until he saw her in the distance just coming through the trees at the opposite end of field. It was undoubtedly Lizzie for the huge, shaggy gray dog was at her side. She waved.
He took off at a quick jog. “Where were you?” he shouted as soon as he was sure she could make out the words. She held up her arms wordlessly, and he noted the parcels done up in string. Shopping. She’d been shopping. He closed the distance between them and took the largest parcels from her. “What have you been buying?”
“Oh, just a few things I needed. Nothing terribly interesting. I got us some more sugar. Have you been back long? I rather underestimated how far I would have to walk to reach the nearest store.”
Benedict cleared his throat. “Not long, but long enough,” he admitted. He avoided her look of enquiry.
“I’ve bought supplies to make up toothpowder and rinse. I can make up a batch tomorrow,” she said brightly. “Did you see I finished the curtains?” He nodded. “I’m not sure I secured them terribly well. We might need some new string put up.”
“I’ll take a look at it,” he said grudgingly.
Lizzie seemed to notice something was amiss at this point and treated him to a long look. “Was everything alright at the boxing tent?” she asked dubiously.
“Fine,” he answered shortly. They had reached the wagon by now.
“I got a new bag of meat bones for Sebastian mmfff – ” Her words broke off as Benedict chose this moment to drop the parcels and drag Lizzie into his arms for a punishing kiss. Well, that was how it started anyway. He walked her back into the wagon and pinned her against the side of it, pressing into her and letting her feel just how riled up he was.
“Benedict!” she gasped as soon as she was able, only to find herself scooped up and slung into the wagon. She scrambled to her feet at once, her eyes flying to his.
“Take your clothes off,” he said, picking up the largest of the two packages. “Which one of these is his bones?” he asked, nodding toward Sebastian.
Lizzie pointed to his left hand. “That one.” Then she turned and washed her hands and face in the basin on the side.
He ripped into the parcel and threw a bone down for Sebastian, who pounced on it at once with savage enjoyment. Then he climbed into the wagon after her, shedding his waistcoat and neckcloth as soon as he was inside. The washing water on the side was cold, but he plunged his hands into it anyway and performed a perfunctory wash.
“Strip, Lizzie,” he said without turning. He knew she was still fully dressed for she was standing entirely still.
She took a steadying breath. “It only just occurred to me that I should have left you a note,” she began calmly. “But I didn’t think – ”
“No, you didn’t!” he agreed, stripping off his shirt and braces. “Though seeing a letter would likely have given me a heart attack too!”
Lizzie surveyed him a moment looking puzzled. “Why?”
“Because I would have assumed the worst,” he growled.
“The worst?”
“That you had taken off and left me!” He was entirely frank with her. It seemed the best way, going forward.
Lizzie’s mouth dropped open. “Why on earth would you assume that?” she faltered.
He unbuttoned his breeches. “Get on the bed.”
“What? Why?”
“So, you can console me for the nasty shock you gave me.”
“Console you?”
“Aye, console me. With that sweet little body of yours.”
He let his eyes travel over her deliberately. Lizzie’s mouth shut and she reached behind her to make a start on the bead buttons at the back of her neck. She had made precious little progress by the time he was down to his long underwear and flung her on the bed. Lizzie gave a squawk as she bounced, for if he had not followed her down, his knee planted between hers, she would likely have ended up on the floor.
“I’m not undressed!” she panted.
“No, you’re not, are you? Let me help you with that.”
“Don’t you rip my dress, Benedict Toomes! I only have this one and the navy one for weekdays!”
“I’ll buy you a new one.”
Lizzie made a muffled sound of annoyance as he yanked her dress open at the back, drawing it over her head and flinging it over the side of the bed. “One of every color,” he added. “I’d like to see you in brighter colors, Lizzie, to match your hair.”
Lizzie seemed so startled by this pronouncement that she made not one murmur as he ran through the hook and eyes of her corset and then her stays, chemise, petticoat, and bloomers followed her dress over the edge of the bed.
Only when she lay back on the bed entirely naked did she murmur his name, half reproachfully, her cheeks very pink.
He let his eyes devour her slim body with its bright gold hair, from her high, perky bosom to her slender ankles. “Take down your hair.”
Lizzie reached up and unpinned the neat arrangement. He watched with satisfaction as she leaned over to set a handful of pins on the top of a trunk.
“Finally,” he said. “I get to see you in all your glory by daylight.”
“In all my glory?” she repeated weakly, as he shed his vest. “Are you sure you’re seeing me clearly?”
“You’re the one in my bed, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “But … ”
“But what?” he asked, grabbing her ankle and pulling her down the bed. “This is how you should greet me at the end of a working day.”
Lizzie spluttered. “Naked?”
“Why not?”
“We haven’t lit the fire even, or – ”
“Later,” he growled. “There’s time enough for that.” He grabbed her knees and pulled them apart.
“Benedict!”
“Your hair isn’t your only beauty, Lizzie,” he said running his fingers through the hair between her legs. “But it is one of them.”
Her breathing hitched and she closed her eyes, “I – I’m not – ”
“Put your hands on your breasts, Lizzie. Squeeze those pretty nipples for me.”
She hesitated a moment, then did as he asked, her breathing shaky as he tweaked and sifted through the soft hair on her mound.
“When I married you, I endowed you with all my worldly goods, Lizzie. Everything of mine is yours. Do you understand? Everything.” She bit her lip and nodded, but kept her eyes closed. “Look at me.” When her eyes sprang open, he shifted down the bed until he was kneeling at the edge of the bed.
Lizzie gazed at him as he lowered his head slowly and deliberately and replaced his fingers between her legs with his tongue. “Benedict!” She half groaned, half whimpered his name as he took his time, tracing her cleft, his breath hot against her cool skin.
When her thighs kept trying to close about his ears and her hips were moving restlessly to encourage him, he knew he had pushed past her inhibitions. He ran his tongue lingeringly through her wet petals and groaned. Panting, he turned his face to rest against her soft inner thigh for a moment. Drawing an uneven breath, he said lasciviously, “Whatever will I do, Lizzie mine? The more I lick, the wetter you get.”
Lizzie gazed down at him, her indignant face flushed, her bosom heaving. He was fucked if he knew why, but the spark in her eye made him burn hotter than ever.
“Tell me,” he said thickly. There he went again. Wanting to know what was on her mind. It really made no sense, yet here he was, wanting to hear her thoughts.
“You know exactly what you’re doing to me, you wretch!” she told him with spirit.
“Getting you worked up, you mean?” he answered with a laugh. “Yeah, I do. I’m starting to know exactly what treatment this naughty pussy likes.”
Lizzie drew in a shocked breath. “Benedict!”
He laughed again. “You’ll be the death of me,” he commented, moving swiftly up the bed and positioning his pulsing cock at her entrance. “Now tell me you’re going to come all over my cock like a good girl, and I’ll give you what you want.”
She gave a needy whimper, and he couldn’t hold back like he should to tease her anymore. “Close enough,” he grunted and thrust inside her. Lizzie arched her back and wailed. He had to cover her mouth with his hand or everyone in the campsite would know what a lucky bastard he was. “Coming already?” he grunted and willed himself to withstand the pleasure as she clenched around him so hard he had to steel himself against the rich satisfaction it afforded him or he would embarrass himself.
Benedict clenched his buttocks and bit his lip as he strove to keep a lid on it. “That’s alright, Lizzie,” he told her huskily when he was sure he had himself under control. “You can come. But I’m not going to join you just yet.” When the violence of her orgasm began to relent, he gave a few stiff bucks of his hips, just enough to send her climax spiraling again. Lizzie sobbed against the back of her hand as she arched against him in the throes of bliss.
“That’s it,” he rasped as he ground his hips against hers. “I want everything. Give it to me. It’s mine by right.” Her eyelids drifted shut as she fluttered against his cock, sobbing softly. Only then did he lower himself down over her and take her mouth in the hot, wet kiss he wanted.
A Substitute Wife for the Prizefighter: A Victorian Romance Page 32