by Lucy Wild
“I thank you,” he replied with a bow. “Now if you have a back door, I have someone that will be glad to receive this from me. Might even be some left for dinner tonight.”
“You are not staying to help us?” Eleanor asked.
“You wanted protection until you reached Whitby,” he replied. “I believe my job is done. Unless you want him to pay to keep me here longer?”
“But we are in danger.”
“As am I if I do not pay this promptly. Good afternoon ladies, sir. The back door?” He nodded his head before heading in the direction William pointed.
“What do we do now?” Georgia asked.
“Why are you here?” William asked, ignoring her question. “Why were the Jones family after you?”
“I do not know,” Eleanor replied.
“You must have some clue. Men do not go to such trouble without reason.”
“I have one clue,” Eleanor snapped, pulling out the letter from her sister. “This.”
She passed it to William and he read it quickly before returning it to her. “You have a sister? You never mentioned a sister before.”
“I did not know I had one.”
“But where is she? Why are you not in Pickering?”
Georgia explained about the train, filling William in on the details of their journey. When she had finished, Eleanor took over. “Do you have any idea where she might be?”
“I do not even know who she might be.”
“I do,” Georgia said. “In fact, I believe I know exactly where she will be.”
Eleanor and William looked at her. “Do not pause there. Tell us,” Eleanor said.
An echoing thud suddenly filled the air. William looked down the corridor to the entrance. Someone was knocking with fearsome force. “Who is that?” Eleanor asked.
“I will deal with it,” Georgia replied. “You two, head that way.” She pointed where Martin had gone.
“You cannot be serious?” Eleanor asked.
“Find your sister,” Georgia said. “That is all that matters.”
She ran towards the front door before Eleanor could argue any further.
“Come on,” William shouted as with a crash, the front door gave way. “I’m getting a stronger one,” he shouted as he pulled Eleanor away. “It keeps doing that.”
Eleanor kept looking behind her and William glanced back to see why. Georgia was doing her best to keep a mob of people from entering. She brought down the first one with a fist, lashing out at the second before the others overwhelmed her. The last William saw of her was a plaintive hand vanishing amongst the seething solid mass of people. She let out a scream that made him shudder.
“Georgia!” Eleanor shouted. “We must help her.”
“It is too late,” he replied. “Come on, we must go.”
They reached the long corridor leading to the back door just as Isabella emerged from her dressing room. She took in the sight of the two of them running towards her and took off for the exit, holding it open and waving them out. “This way,” she said, leading them out into the street. “I know a safe place where you can hide.”
“Why are you helping us?” William asked.
She glanced at him and then across at Eleanor as they began to run. “Because I would do anything for my sister.”
Chapter 13
Eleanor wished they had time to stop. Had she misheard her? Had that woman said she was her sister? She could not even get a good look at her as they ran through the streets, Eleanor’s legs turning to jelly. Her entire time since arriving seemed to have been spent running and just as she had stopped they had to move again.
That woman a few feet in front of her, was that really her sister? Did she have a member of her family left alive after all? It seemed impossible and she had countless questions but she would have to wait to gain any answers. She just hoped they were not caught before she had chance to find out the truth, to find out why she was being hunted.
Not only hunted but in danger of losing her life. Her parents, dead, her governess dead, her aunt and uncle, dead, her sister’s governess, dead. Who would be next?
They reached the steps leading up to the abbey and the woman took them two at a time, urging them to keep up with her. By the time they reached the top, Eleanor was exhausted, her chest heaving as she fought for breath. Still they had to run on, passing by the hulking shadow of the medieval abbey beside them. They reached a farmhouse further along the lane and the woman ran to it, shoving open a door and waving them all in.
“Come on, come on,” she cried, slamming the door shut once they were all inside. “Right,” she said, slowing to a walk as she entered a sparsely furnished living room. “We should be safe for a while here. He doesn’t know about this place. At least, not yet.”
Eleanor looked at her properly for the first time. She was a few years older than Eleanor, though she had the same colour eyes and hair. She looked stern, as if she had seen far darker things than Eleanor in her time on earth. “I have no doubt you have many questions,” she said, perching on the edge of a chair as the others caught their breath. “I will answer them in time but for now, I need you to listen.”
“Are you really my sister?” Eleanor asked in a weak voice.
“I am,” she replied. “And that is why we are in such danger.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“There is a man called Vincent and he plans to kill us both.”
Eleanor opened her mouth to reply but the woman continued before she could say a word.
“It took a long time for me to find out the truth but I eventually worked out why our parents died. Vincent had them killed.”
“Who is he?”
“Technically, he is our uncle, though his connection to our bloodline is tenuous at best. He worked with our father and used their time together to twist his mind until father was willing to change the will that left the family estate to us. The clause added shortly before they died pointed out that in the event of the death of father’s children, the estate would pass to Vincent.”
Eleanor thought about something Martin had said. “So this is all about money?”
The woman nodded. “He was not as clever as he thought though for he did not read the clause in its entirety. His mind was filled with the thought of our estate, of our lands, of our home, of everything that is ours.
“What happened?”
“He hired men to have us all killed. He did not know that father was such a good shot. Nor that father would send me away to keep me safe. He thought the line would be safe, with me hidden away and you by his side. The men made it look like a burglary but father shot them before they could reach you though he was mortally wounded himself, may he rest in peace beside our mother.”
“But why did this Vincent not just kill me?”
“Because of the extra clause in the will. If you were to die before you turned twenty one, the estate would go to your aunt and uncle, leaving Vincent with nothing.”
“So he waited until I was twenty one to attack?”
“Precisely. I sent you word once I had worked out why we were attacked and then left alone. I only wish I had realised sooner as then I could have come for you myself.”
“So you hid here? So near to where I was?”
“I travelled round Europe for years, learning the skills of performance that brought me eventually to the Jet Club. By then, I had learned of William’s true identity and I reasoned that I could use him and you to draw Vincent out from hiding.”
“You used us as bait?”
“I needed to draw Vincent out. I cannot deal with him whilst he hides.”
“People are dead because of you.”
“No, they are dead because of him. If you had remained home, you would also be dead by now. At least this way, you have a chance, as do I.”
“But you used me,” Eleanor said, sinking back on her seat, unable to believe she was nothing more than bait.
“I had to, do
you not see?”
William interrupted them. “What is your plan?”
“I need Eleanor to pretend to be me in tomorrow’s performance. I have let slip to his men that I am performing at the Jet Club tomorrow night at eight. He will not risk his incompetent men again and will want to deal with this himself. I am sure of it.”
“Why do you need Eleanor?”
“If she pretends to be me on stage, I can take him unawares.”
“We should leave England,” Eleanor said. “We cannot stay here anymore. It is not safe.”
“You would be no safer in any other country.”
“Nonetheless, I refuse to remain here.”
“It is for one night. There will be no boat you can take before then. I beg you to appear on stage for just an hour. At the end of that time we will both be safe and Vincent will be dead.”
“Hold on,” William said. “If she is to take your part on stage, she will stand out like a sore thumb.”
“What do you mean?” Eleanor asked.
“You are an innocent woman. You do not know what is required to perform at the Jet Club.”
Eleanor stood up and folded her arms. “I am no mere innocent woman.” She turned to the other woman. “I will do it.”
Chapter 14
William looked at Eleanor as she strode out onto the stage, all his old feelings for her bubbling up inside him. She looked stunningly beautiful in the stage costume, though the way she fidgeted on the spot suggested she was not entirely comfortable wearing something so revealing. The mask she wore hid part of her face but William did not care for what was hidden, he cared for the fact that the love he had felt for Eleanor was coming surging back into his soul. It was not helped by the sight of her legs on display in that child’s frock. She looked utterly perfect, her hair in bunches, white socks pulled up towards her knees. She looked exactly like Isabella and yet Isabella had never provoked this sort of reaction in him.
“You are sure I cannot wear something more sensible?” she asked, tugging down the hem of the dress.”
“Not if you want to look like Isabella,” he replied, walking up the steps onto the stage. “Now come tonight, you will need to be confident if you’re to make this work.”
“I am confident.”
“You look like you want to run for the hills.”
“I do not,” she pouted behind her mask, her eyes hidden but her lips protruding in a way that made him desperate to kiss her. He stepped back, doing his best to avoid temptation.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
She nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be. What exactly do I need to do?”
“You need to act young and innocent.”
“What? Why?”
“Because that is what Isabella does. She comes out on stage with her assistant and misbehaves. She is then spanked and so on.”
“What do you mean by and so on?”
“Well, hopefully you will not need to go that far but I suppose we had better prepare just in case. Now, I will play the assistant.”
“What do I do?”
“Act naturally. Act innocent and wander the stage before I call you over.”
Sitting down and watching Eleanor gave William a chance to think. He knew it was taking a risk to allow her to pretend to be Isabella. What if Vincent saw through their subterfuge? If he were to bring a pistol into the club, he might shoot her before anyone had time to react. His stomach churned at the thought of life without her. He had done his best to forget she existed, to wipe her from his mind. But there was never any real prospect of him forgetting to love her. Even after she professed hating him for what he had done. But he had done nothing, the Marquis was alive after all. It was a strange feeling to have been so certain of something and to have gotten it completely wrong.
Eleanor skipped across the stage, swinging her arms as she did so. She looked delightful and it was almost a shame to stop her. He waited as long as he could before telling her to freeze. “Come over here,” he said in his most commanding voice. Eleanor looked at him with what seemed like genuine fear upon her features. She approached him slowly. “Yes, papa?”
“You have been very naughty today, have you not?” His heart began to beat faster as he saw her relax into the role, her shoulders sagging, her head down.
“I am sorry papa, please give me another chance.”
“It is too late for that. Over my knee at once.”
“This is part of the act?” Eleanor asked, breaking character in her shock at what was being asked of her.
“I warned you that you were too innocent for this. You should not have agreed to take her place.”
“I am not innocent,” she said, stamping her foot and folding her arms a moment later. “I have seen more things than you realise.”
She continued to scowl as she climbed onto his lap and laid down, glancing back over her shoulder. “See.”
“We will see,” he replied, reaching down and lifting the hem of her dress to reveal her silk knickers. “Are you ready for your punishment?”
“Yes, papa,” she replied, still looking straight into his eyes.
“Good,” he said, grabbing the waistband of her knickers and yanking them down to her ankles in a single firm motion. Looking down at her exposed posterior, he shifted in his seat, attempting to maintain his composure at the sight of such beauty.
“Six should do it,” he said, raising his hand and bringing it smacking down on her buttocks.
Eleanor let out a yelp and wriggled on his lap but she did not tell him to stop. He looked down at the red mark that had formed where his hand had landed. It was like a mark of ownership. It made him yearn to make her his. “Keep still,” he growled as he lifted his hand and smacked her a second time.
“Ow!” she cried. “That hurts.”
“It is supposed to hurt. It would not be punishment otherwise.”
He moved his hand to smack closer to her thighs, glancing downwards in the hope of seeing what lay hidden between her legs. She seemed to realise, shuffling herself around as he struck her a third and fourth time, her legs parting ever so slightly to reveal her glistening pink core, the scent of her femininity assailing his nostrils as she did so.
The final blows came all too soon but William found himself unable to end the rehearsal. He had not planned to complete the act but as he looked at her with her legs slightly parted, her posterior pointed up at him, he wondered.
“What happens next?” she asked, looking up.
“I provide you with a further punishment,” he said, grabbing her and pulling her upright. She looked at him as he pushed her shoulders, making her sink to her knees in the middle of the stage.
“What are you going to do, papa?” she asked.
“Teach you a lesson,” he replied, unbuttoning the front of his trousers whilst expecting her to scream and run at any moment. She didn’t. She remained in place, staring at him as he reached into his underwear and pulled out his member. It was achingly hard, the result of her squirming on his lap whilst he spanked her. To his mind, it felt hotter than it ever had, throbbing in his hand as he moved it towards her face. She opened her mouth automatically as he took hold of her head and guided her lips over the bulbous end, sliding his way along her tongue until he was buried at the back of her throat.
He looked down at her as she almost choked on his length but still she remained in place. As he began to thrust in and out of her mouth, she blinked up at him, her hands sliding round to his buttocks, drawing him deeper. Her lips felt so soft, it was heavenly. Her tongue glided along his shaft as he moved faster and faster, unable to stop himself now he had begun.
Her nostrils flared, the mask sliding loose from her face to reveal a look of sheer lust as he pulled back, her tongue flicking over his tip, her hands going to his shaft, gliding along it, drawing him back in. Her hunger for him seemed to know no bounds and within minutes he felt himself stiffen further, a sudden twitch in his shaft telling him he was close. Pullin
g back a final time to her lips, he pushed himself all the way into her mouth as he climaxed, a gush of hot liquid pouring from him, coating her tongue as he spasmed within her mouth. He groaned with relief as he remained in place, buried in her mouth until the last of his climax faded away. Only then did he pull free of her mouth and allow her to stand up.
“I told you I was not that innocent,” she said, wiping her mouth with her hand.
“Apparently not,” he replied, unable to stop himself from grinning.
“How did I do?”
“Very well. I am sure you will perform admirably this evening. Although…”
“Although what?”
“Just to be sure, we may need another rehearsal before then.”
Chapter 15
Eleanor met Martin on the beach that afternoon. She had rehearsed the act with William twice and her mind was on fire with the most sinful thoughts. When he had spanked her a second time, she had found herself wondering what it would be like for his hand to slide between her legs, to ease the burning throb that dwelt there at the feel of him underneath her. That was when she knew she had to get away.
Making her excuses, she left the club, promising to be careful and to return at once if she spotted danger. Isabella would not have let her leave but Isabella was busy preparing the help she needed for the evening.
Eleanor made her way from the club to the harbour and along the slipway which led down to the beach. The receding tide and bright blue skies seemed to say that nothing bad could or would ever happen. They were a lie, she knew that, but for a time she was happy to accept the lie.
A few people were strolling along the sand and one turned towards Eleanor. She bristled until she realised it was Martin. She nodded a greeting to him when he reached her and they walked together away from the harbour and towards the village of Sandsend visible in the distance.
“Are you not taking a risk, walking out on your own like this?” he asked.
“I had to get away for a spell,” she replied. “It has been difficult day and worse is to come tonight.”