by K. Lyn
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Text copyright ©2018 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by LATIN GODDESS PRESS INC.. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Sassy Ever After remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of LATIN GODDESS PRESS INC., or their affiliates or licensors.
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SECRET SASS
A Kindle World Novella
K. LYN
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
***
Lost in the woods and in danger of being captured by her former master, Victoria encounters a strange, attractive man. When she learns he’s the owner of an estate, she begs to work for him in exchange for protection. He reluctantly agrees, not wanting his secret to be known. Before long, Victoria discovers more about him, and realizes she’s still in danger, but of a different kind.
***
Chapter One
Nervously, Victoria approached Sir William's massive estate. His mansion was three stories high with ten rooms on each floor. There was a stable on the right hand side, and massive green plains with grazing horses surrounded it. The estate had arched windows and two black double doors. As Victoria approached the double doors, her hands shook. No longer shall I be the mistress of Sir William, she thought, frowning at the copper handle of the door. Fear filled her at the thought of telling Sir William that she was through with him.
Before cowardice could get the better of her, Victoria knocked on Sir William's door and then paused. It was but a second before one of the three butlers, Edward, answered the door and beckoned her inside. Edward was thin and tall with graying hair and a serious expression on his face. If Victoria didn't know him well, she would have sworn he had the inability to show emotion at all.
"Sir William is expecting you," Edward said. "This way."
Edward whirled around and Victoria began to follow after him. Halfway down the hall, she saw through an ajar door that Sir William's wife, Edith, sat in a wheelchair with a blank expression on her pale face. Her blonde hair, which was missing in tufts from her scalp, hung lank at her shoulders. Despite her sunken legs and shriveled condition, she wore a fine dress of the palest blue.
"Edith is still showing no improvement?" Victoria asked sadly.
"No," Edward said. "Perhaps it is better she not."
Then Edward's eyes lingered on Victoria for a moment longer than necessary. Though his face once again did not change, she understood what he meant. Perhaps it is better she not, because there is a whore like you running about the estate. She balled her fists and fought down the nausea. She didn't want to spread her legs for a man who was not her husband. She didn't want to force herself to visit his bedchambers and then leave again within a few hours like a common prostitute. Unfortunately, she had to do it. But no longer.
She frowned and then continued to walk down the spacious hallway adorned with draperies of the finest red. Edward came to a pause outside Sir William's dining room and then knocked three times.
"Is it Victoria?" Sir William grunted from inside, his voice deep and husky.
"Yes, sir," Edward said.
"Send her in," Sir William said.
"Yes, sir."
Sparing her only one more glance, Edward pushed open the door and held it open for her as she stepped inside, her heart pounding in fear. Sir William's dining room was large with a massive table which seated twenty and a crackling fireplace that filled the room with warmth on cold winter nights. Sir William sat at the head of the table.
Sir William had dark brown hair filled with graying strands and his auburn eyes were sharp and cold. In his thin hand, he held a metal goblet of dark red wine Victoria thought appeared a lot like blood. The thought gave her the chills despite the roaring fire on this warm spring day and she shook it from her head.
Victoria approached the table and sat down across from Sir William, still quaking. Sir William reached out and grabbed her sweaty palm at once.
"Your hands shudder," Sir William said, frowning at her. "Please tell me you have not gotten the chills, Victoria."
"No, sir," Victoria said, shaking her head. "I am in good health, same as always."
"That is good." Sir William's eyes dropped to her ample bosom in the jade gown he had purchased especially for her. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to my companion."
The time to tell him was now. She bit her bottom lip and ran her hand through her curly red hair given to her by her late Scottish father. At that moment, she wished she could have summoned the fiery persona which seemed to accompany the hair, but it escaped her grasp.
"I will not come to see you anymore," she stuttered. "I am sorry, Sir William, but this arrangement will come to an end."
Silence. The only thing she could hear was the crackling of the fire behind her, which filled the room as well as caused her back to grow hot.
"What?" Sir William gripped her hand so hard it caused pain to go up her arm. "What is the meaning of this?"
As his grip tightened even mote, she cried out. She attempted to pull her hand back, but he stood up and yanked her to him. Though she let out a scream of fear as she collided with his solid chest, she knew nobody would come for her. She trembled in Sir William's arms and stared up into his narrowed eyes. As she gazed into them, she saw anger and burning malice in them.
"What do you mean you will not come to see me anymore?" Sir William shook her. "I have fed you and your starving mother when your father grew sick and died. I kept your land safe."
"Only at the cost of something which should never be given," she said. "My virtue."
After drawing back his hand, Sir William slapped her across the face and burning filled her cheek and her ears rang. She screamed again as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and then raised his opposing hand to stroke her pale cheek. The other cheek was still consumed with an inferno of heat.
"Listen to me, woman," Sir William whispered against her forehead, even as he continued to yank her hair so hard she was breathless and feared he would pull it out of her head. "You will continue to be mine. I will not let you go. Not now, not ever."
"Stop it." Tears of pain filled Victoria's eyes from Sir William's hair pulling. "I don't want to be with a man I don't love anymore. My mother is getting remarried, and she will be fine with him. I am free from this immoral servitude. I. Don't. Want. This."
Flipping her around so fast that Victoria gasped, Sir William forced her against the wall by the fire with a "bang." He held her up by her neck and tightened his grip until the breath was chased from her lungs and her neck seared with pain. She tried to inhale, but no air came. It was like being trapped under the mighty waves of the ocean with no hope of breathing. As tears trickled down her cheeks as she stared into Sir William's murderous gaze, she tried to push him away but he was much stronger than she.
Dear God, he is going to kill me. She o
nce again tried to inhale, but he did not loosen his grip. She brought up her hand and somehow managed to hit him in the face, scratching him under his right eye. Swearing, he finally withdrew his hand and she grasped her neck, inhaled, and then began to run. Halfway to the door, he seized her by her dress and dragged her down to the ground with a painful bang. She screamed, tried to crawl along the floor, but he grabbed a fistful of her hair and held her head back. He then straddled her, leaned forward, and breathed his sour breath into her ear.
"You will not leave me," he whispered. "I won't let you. You're mine. If you left, I would follow you and take you back."
As he continued to straddle her, she shuddered and realized she could not hope to get away now. She peered up at the table and spotted a golden goblet she knew was heavy. An idea sparked in her brain.
"I won't leave you," she lied.
"Good," Sir William said, reaching down and cupping her breasts so hard her flesh burned.
The single touch made her want to sink into the river to soak for twelve hours. She fought down the urge to vomit as he dismounted her back, flipped her over, and then leaned down and kissed her. As she tasted red wine on his tongue as he forced it into her mouth so roughly that it hurt, she glanced up at the table above her and focused on that glistening goblet again.
Sir William's rough hand began to yank up her skirts around her hips, but she didn't want to allow him entrance. She didn't want a man like him to touch her most private parts again.
"On the table," Victoria said. "Let's do this on the table."
"That's the lecherous woman I know," Sir William chuckled.
Sir William stood, yanked her to her feet, and then slammed her against the table where he continued to pull up her skirts. The goblet trembled, then fell to its side and spilled bloodlike wine on the wood. It then rolled a few inches away from her. As Sir William forced his lips over hers again, she finally managed to grasp the handle of the goblet and let out a shaky sigh.
Just as Sir William broke free from the kiss, she rose up her hand and brought the goblet down upon the back of his head with a dull, resounding thud. He swore, shocked, and wrapped his hand around the back of his head. Victoria shuddered and raised the goblet again.
"God forgive me," she said.
Victoria brought the goblet down on his head a second time, and this time he fell to his stomach with a bang. Because she saw his arm twitch as he attempted to rise, she hit him again and then paused. Sir William lay on the floor, unmoving, except for his ragged breathing. What have I done? I did not expect to harm anyone. Oh, God. Oh, God.
With a shaky gasp, Victoria turned and fled from the room.
Sir William awoke in his bed with his head pounding. Edward, his butler, stood over him with a worried expression on his face. Dr. Willard, his wife's fat, portly doctor, stood beside him. What is the doctor doing here? And why am I in my own bedroom when I was with Victoria? He groaned, trying to recall what had happened last. It was hard at first, but then he began to remember.
"You will not leave me," he said to Victoria. "I won't let you. You're mine."
As he continued to straddle her, he felt her quiver beneath him and felt his cock swell at the thought of her so powerless.
"I won't leave you," she said.
Of course you won't, Sir William thought. You're mine, and you know it.
"Good."
Blinking, he sat up in his anger and remembered seeing a golden goblet go flying toward his head. Yes, that was exactly what had happened. He had just been in the middle of driving Victoria's dress up her silky thighs when the bitch hit him over the head with his own goblet. Pain had filled his skull and while he was distracted, she had hit him again and then he woke up here.
"That witch," Sir William said. "That witch."
Sir William attempted to get out of bed, but Dr. Willard grabbed him by his arm and tried to stop him. Unlike Sir William, Dr. Willard was a large man and managed to get in his way. Sir William scowled at Dr. Willard.
"You shouldn't leave the bed," Dr. Willard said. "I recommend a bleeding for you."
Yanking his arm away, Sir William stood – or at least he attempted to. He wobbled for a moment and Dr. Willard caught him and steadied him.
"You must have a bleeding," Dr. Willard said, pushing him down to the bed. "Now."
No, what I must do is find Victoria. Sir William glared at the fine portrait of Victoria he had hung at his bedside so that he could imagine her even before he slept. Her hair, pale skin, and bright green eyes taunted him now. As Dr. Willard pushed him back down onto the bed, all he could think of was the fiery anger burning deep in his heart. Victoria was supposed to be his and his alone. How dare she think she could escape him? And her mother finding a husband…what a disgusting turn of fate. He thought he had it made when Victoria's mother, Cecile, went mad and refused to work after her father was poisoned, leaving food and money all up to Victoria. I have worked so hard to ensure Victoria would be mine, but now this.
As Sir William lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling wood, his fingers clenched the crimson bedspread. The first time he laid eyes on Victoria, he had wanted to make her his. He remembered that night in the middle of summer when he had first seen her dance.
The fires were bright in the darkness as Sir William rode in the carriage to the city. Sir William accompanied a beautiful prostitute who went by the name of Roxanne, and she giggled and draped herself all over him. She stank of ale and perfume. In the distance, a large fire burned.
"What is that?" Sir William asked.
"That?" Roxanne peered at the burning fire. "The townspeople are holding a festival where they dance around a fire. It's silly, really. I like to do a different kind of dancing."
With a smirk, Roxanne fingered his shirt. He pushed her away and said, "Driver, bring me there. I want to see."
Pouting, Roxanne turned away from him and balanced her chin on her palm. He ignored her. As physically appealing as she was with her blonde hair and blue eyes, she was annoying too, like a small child who had to have everything her way, though he paid her. He continued to ignore her all the way until the carriage drew to a stop at the road by the crowd. The carriage couldn't go any farther because a ring of people gathered around the fire.
Talking, laughter, and the fiddle could be heard. The sweet scent of roasting meat hovered in the air. Sir William climbed out of the carriage with Roxanne behind him and heard the ground crunch beneath his feet. He walked over to the ring of people and pushed his way through them. That was when he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire life.
The girl had hair the color of the roaring fire behind her, skin as pale as a freshly laid snow, lips the color of a spring cherry, and childbearing hips worthy of sons. Her long arms were wide to the world as if she wanted to embrace everyone in the crowd as she danced to the sound of the fiddle and spun. The dress she wore was white, the color of innocence. The whole appearance she had was that of sweet innocence.
That innocence only made him want to break her more. He could imagine her underneath him, her thighs damp with blood from where he had broken her virtue, her eyes wide and her body trembling. He wanted to break her and keep her.
As he watched the girl, she spun around the fire and drew to a stop in front of a plump, laughing woman with long blonde hair and fat breasts and a man with red hair and a pleasant grin. The girl hugged the man, spun again, and then hugged him once more. She then attempted to drag the man out to dance. Her father and mother, he guessed, were watching them.
I want her, he thought. I want her now.
"Roxanne, go and wait in the carriage," he said. "I'll pay you when I get back."
"What?" Roxanne asked.
Ignoring Roxanne when she grabbed his arm, he walked over to the girl and her parents and paused in front of them. The girl stopped dancing and cocked her head, innocently curious. God, he wanted her even more then. He could imagine those red lips upon his body.
"M’lady," Sir William said, extending his hand. "What is the name of such an exquisite beauty?"
Before she could answer, a hand landed on her shoulder and the girl's father stepped forward.
"Her name is Victoria, but she will have nothing to do with the likes of you," her father said. "I saw you with that prostitute. My daughter is a good, virtuous girl."
Anger filled him as Sir William gazed at the man. How dare he speak to me like that? At that moment, he realized he would have to find a way to have Victoria. A slow grin crossed his face as he watched Victoria grasp her mother's arm and a plan formed.
"I'll be leaving, then," Sir William said.
But not for good.
Dr. Willard grabbing his arm brought him back to reality. Yes, as soon as this bleeding was over, he was going to get Victoria, and he would make her sorry she had ever forgotten who she belonged to.
The atmosphere in Victoria's house was tense. Victoria grabbed her clothes and stuffed them into a bag. She also seized the sword her father had given her before he died, wrapped the blade in cloth because she didn't have a sheath, and put that in her bag too. She then glanced over the dented table at her blonde-haired mother named Cecile who stood with her betrothed, Dawson. Her mother was plump with blue eyes, and Dawson was also plump but had brown hair and hazel eyes. Both of them appeared wide-eyed and tight lipped.
"Oh, Victoria," her mother said for the thousandth time that evening. Her mother stared pointedly at her neck.
Victoria knew she had fingerprint bruises along her neck from when Sir William had almost choked her to death, and she had bruises along her thighs and back too. Though her body ached and was sore, she knew she had to escape from here. There was no doubt in her mind after seeing Sir William's rage that morning that he was going to come after her with a vengeance. She could only pray he would be unconscious for a long while.
"Mother," Victoria said, stepping toward her mother and hugging her. "Promise me you'll be careful with Dawson. Promise me."