The Pits of Passion

by Amber Flame

  Easing himself down upon the bed, Benjamin proceeded to ignite Elizabeth’s body with his searing kisses. His hands traveled the expanse of silken skin; fanning the fire in her to a roaring blaze. He caressed her breasts with gentle, sensitive strokes, using his lips and tongue to advantage as well. Elizabeth felt her body arching toward his as if by a will of its own, and she circled his neck with her arms and pulled him on top of her.

  She was immediately sorry. The pride of the Elliotts penetrated deep within her and the awful renting agony was almost too much to bear. Feeling as if she were being ripped in half, she cried out and struggled weakly against the incredible onslaught. Unfortunately, Benjamin took her moans to be those of ecstasy, and he drove on, mindful only of the exquisite feelings he was experiencing. He plunged deeper and deeper, until he seemed to explode in a frenzy of passion and then fell spent beside his bride.

  Elizabeth had fainted. At first Benjamin thought she was only resting, but when he pressed a soft kiss to her temple she did not awaken. He shook her, then slapped her cheek and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Agghh,” she groaned. “I think I’m dying.”

  “Oh, you’ll get used to it,” Benjamin said.

  “I’ll get used to being torn apart?” she asked. She glanced down to see if she was still whole. “Oh my God, I’m bleeding to death! You’ve wounded me mortally and I’ll die like a stuck pig! Benjamin, do something! Call a doctor!”

  “Calm down,” he said easily. “That’s normal, or don’t you know about such things? All women bleed the first time....”

  “But this isn’t the first time, it’s the second! Your brother, remember?” She was still horrified.

  “Oh, yes, of course. But he hardly counts as the first time. Like I said, he didn’t inherit much in the way of family jewels.”

  Now that Elizabeth thought about it, she hadn’t bled the first time. Something nagged at the back of her mind. If he had entered her, but not enough to break the maidenhead, that meant.

  “Benjamin!” she said suddenly. “Do you know what this means? If I didn’t bleed that first time, then he didn’t--I mean, I was still....”

  “A virgin. Yes, that’s right,” he reasoned. “So actually as far as husband-hunting was concerned, you were still marketable. So our marriage wasn’t really necessary after all.”

  “This just hasn’t been my day,” Elizabeth remarked. She sank back on the bed as if exhausted. “I suppose we can have our marriage annulled, though, can’t we?”

  “I doubt it. You certainly couldn’t claim non-consummation. And besides, now you really may be with child.”

  His calm deliberation annoyed her. There must be some way out of this mess!

  She pushed herself away from Benjamin and got off the bed. She desperately wanted a bath, but she wanted Benjamin to leave more. She just wasn’t quite sure how to go about telling her new husband to leave.

  “Mr. Elliott,” she began. He raised one eyebrow at her curiously. “Benjamin,” she corrected, “we really cannot live out this charade. We both know this is just a big mistake and neither one of us is bound to the other except by circumstance. I, uh, find myself having to take the precaution of keeping your name, in case, but it really is all a sham. You must realize that.”

  “It is rather a strange situation, isn’t it?” Benjamin asked cheerfully. A mocking smile played upon his lips, annoying Elizabeth. It seemed as if the rogue actually enjoyed her predicament.

  “Well, it cannot remain this way!” she exclaimed. “I realize it is mostly--” he cocked that eyebrow again “--all right, it’s all my fault, but it cannot go on. It won’t take long before I’ll know whether or not I carry your child, and if I don’t there would be no reason to continue this pretense. Under the circumstances, I am willing to drop any idea of revenge I had for your brother....”

  “Considerate of you,” Benjamin noted.

  “But really, if he had a decent bone in his body, this never would have happened.”

  “I told you he doesn’t have a decent bone, didn’t inherit....”

  “Yes, yes, I know. But the point I’m getting at is that we cannot live like man and wife. Don’t you agree?”

  “Actually I was becoming rather fond of the idea,” Benjamin mused. “I think it would be nice to have a warm bed to come home to after sailing halfway around the world and back. Beats the hell out of looking up a girl in a pub somewhere....”

  “Like the Iron Boar?” she accused.

  “ No, more like the Fighting Cock or the Red Dragon. There’s this little bit of fluff over there....”

  “Mr. Elliott,” Elizabeth warned. “I will not have you deliberating about your-- your affairs on our wedding day!”

  “But you just said it was all a sham and we weren’t to take it seriously.”

  “Please don’t argue.” She sniffed. “The fact remains that you cannot live here. In a month’s time we’ll know if there is any need to continue this so-called marriage. In the meantime, I think it would be wise if we each kept to our own interests.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Benjamin conceded. He swung his long, lean legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Elizabeth was struck by the realization that they were carrying on their conversation completely in the nude. Feeling her old modesty again, she turned her back on Benjamin while he dressed.

  “I’ll be leaving soon enough anyway,” he said.

  “Oh?” she asked, her back still turned.

  “Yes, I’m scheduled to pick up a cargo in the Mediterranean and I’ll be leaving before the week is out.”

  “Is it true you’re a shipping tycoon?”

  “I suppose you could say so. I do have a knack for making money that way, at least. Something in the Elliott blood, I think.”

  “Your brother is in the same line of work?” she asked, remembering the strange ship.

  “Uh, similar,” he said vaguely.

  “What do you mean, ‘similar’? I’ve seen his ship. Does he import also?”

  “No, he smuggles actually. Or pirates, or whatever else seems profitable. He’s a bit of an opportunist, I’m afraid, and doesn’t much care which side of the law the opportunity lies on.”

  “He is a rogue then, isn’t he?” she asked.

  “Yes, and I doubt if we’ve seen the last of him. He has a peculiar way of popping up at the strangest times.”

  Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder, aware that Benjamin was dressed now. She turned and observed him closely, but she knew she would not be able to tell the brothers apart whenever she was confronted by one.

  “What’s your brother’s name?” she asked, realizing she did not know.

  “Franklin,” he answered. “And speaking of names, what’s yours? I mean, beside Mrs. Elliott?”

  “Elizabeth.”

  “Well, Elizabeth, my bride, “ he said, stepping up to her. “I’ll be taking my leave now.” He waited expectantly.

  “Oh, yes, well, good-bye,” she stammered.

  “Elizabeth,” he said. “That’s no way to leave your adoring husband to go off to sea.” He reached out and caught her shoulders, pulling her to him. She held back, not knowing what he intended, but his strong arms brooked no refusal. Holding her tight against him, he leaned down and kissed her hungrily, his lips soft but insistent. His kiss left Elizabeth gasping, and she wondered if he wanted this kiss to last until he returned. Finally, she managed to draw back.

  “Good-bye,” she said.

  “Good-bye, Elizabeth,” he murmured softly. His eyes seemed to glow with a strange light. Was he really so unwilling to leave her? With a small grin on his handsome mouth, he was gone.

  Elizabeth stood and stared at the closed door for some moments after he’d left. Why were there so many strange feelings fighting inside her? Had the whole world turned upside down? Or was she the only crazy one?

  She turned and searched her own image in the full-length mirror. Her body looked the same. She had almost expected to see some m
ark left on her by Benjamin’s burning hands, but there was nothing except a small hickey on her neck. Pushing all the confusion she felt to the back of her mind, Elizabeth rang for a servant to prepare her bath. As long as he was leaving soon, she had at least some time to puzzle out her life.

  CHAPTER 3

  Elizabeth did not see her husband again before he sailed. She found out through her maid that his ship left with the morning tide two days after their wedding. She felt strangely sad that he was gone.

  Summoning up her Montgomery pride, she kept herself busy. There were accounts to keep and rents to collect that she had neglected during the past stormy days. She arranged all the accounts in London, then decided to pass some time at her country estate in the north. Packing up all her untorn gowns, she gathered Trevor and a few other loyal servants and drove to the country to Wildwood.

  Wildwood was probably her most favorite place of all her family’s holdings. It was an old, puzzling place, three stories of leaded windows and garden terraces. The grounds were covered with hedges in undefined trails, latticed paths and riotous jungles of flowers. Elizabeth found she could lose herself for hours in the fascinating gardens, forgetting all her other cares. When she became thoroughly lost, she often had to call for Trevor to help her find her way out, but even that was not enough to dampen her contentment.

  It was while she was at Wildwood that she found out she was not pregnant. The knowledge lifted a great worry from her shoulders, and her belly, and she began to plan again. There was no reason now why she could not have the marriage annulled, she thought. The Magistrate was kind enough before to aid her, albeit for a price, but she was not poor and could certainly afford his services again. She vowed to go to him as soon as she returned to London.

  Shortly afterwards, her father’s barrister, Mr. Upjohn came to call at Wildwood. Elizabeth had not seen him except a time or two since her parents died, and his visit surprised her. He seemed reluctant to come to the point of his visit, which increased her sense of foreboding.

  “I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” Mr. Upjohn said as they sipped tea on the patio. “It was a terrible thing when your parents died.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, “but my father would be pleased to know that I’m handling things on my own.”

  He nodded and seemed to ponder her statement. Elizabeth noted the bald spot on the top of his head and the way his blurry blue eyes avoided hers.

  “Mr. Upjohn,” she said finally. “I feel there is something you have come to tell me and 1 would like you to come to the point. I can only assume by your avoidance that it is not good news, but it must be important or you wouldn’t have sought me out here at Wildwood.”

  Mr. Upjohn shifted uneasily in his chair and cleared his throat. He swished his tea about in his cup, lifted it as if to drink, then set the whole thing down on the table. Finally, he peered at Elizabeth through his glasses.

  “You’re right,” he began. “It is important, and it is disturbing. The fact is that some new, uh, debts have come to light since your parents’ deaths, and I’m afraid it isn’t looking good. You are not going to have as much money as we originally figured.”

  “Oh,” Elizabeth said, much relieved. That didn’t seem so terrible to her. She had so much money and so many holdings that they could take what they liked to pay off the debts and she would still have enough. “Do you have the figures with you, Mr. Upjohn?” she asked.

  “Yes, yes I do....” he said nervously. He began to search his jacket, riffling through the pockets. Finally he pulled out an envelope and squinted at the pencil scratches on the flap. “The whole thing is really rather a shock, you know. Completely unforeseen.”

  “A shock, Mr. Upjohn?” she repeated. “Why a shock? Anyone with as much business interest as my father had would naturally invest in many varied things. To find that all his ventures were profitable would be more surprising to me.”

  Mr. Upjohn squirmed uncomfortably in his chair under Elizabeth’s hard glare. She was surprised and rather disappointed in the way he was carrying on. He was making it very difficult. Plucking up his courage, Mr. Upjohn finally handed Elizabeth the envelope. She scanned it briefly, then looked up at the barrister.

  “I don’t understand. What are these figures?”

  “The first,” Mr. Upjohn said nervously, “is what your father lost on dog races.”

  “Dog races?” Elizabeth asked accusingly. “My father was not a gambler, Mr. Upjohn. That is impossible.” She looked again at the figure and her eyes opened wide. “This much on dog racing?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. Like I said, it has taken this long to come to light, but we’ve checked it out and the claim is legitimate. Yes, indeed. Dog racing.”

  Elizabeth swallowed. “And this next one?” she asked, pointing to the envelope.

  “An impossible venture, I’m afraid. Apparently your father was approached by some fellows with an idea to manufacture beads.”

  “Beads?”

  “Yes. Seems as though beads are the monetary unit over in the new America, and their plan was to manufacture their own beads and invest heavily in land in America. Unfortunately, the fellows must have been absolute bounders, for they declared bankruptcy and lost all that your father loaned them.”

  Elizabeth swallowed heavily. “Go on.”

  “That next figure you see is, uh, well, it’s rather delicate.”

  “Delicate, Mr. Upjohn? I don’t see that any part of this conversation is delicate. I am becoming impatient. Now what is it?”

  “That’s losses on a string of, uh, shall we say, houses of ill-repute?”

  “What?” Elizabeth’s shriek of outrage made Mr. Upjohn cower behind his glasses. “Are you implying sir, that my father....”

  “Not implying, no,” said Mr. Upjohn quickly. “It’s all in black and white, I can assure you. I know it’s a heavy blow to you, but believe me, it’s true.”

  “What sort of losses?” she asked when she had regained her composure.

  “Well, really, it’s not a fit subject to discuss.”

  “What sort of losses?” she demanded.

  Mr. Upjohn fitted a nervous finger in the neck of his shirt. “Well,” he said, “it seems the houses have all, uh, gone out of business. There are these, uh, social diseases that crop up every now and then and what happens is that one, uh, girl gets it and then it spreads until they all have it. Then the house closes. This has happened in all of them, one by one, like dominos. They’ve all closed.”

  “All?” she asked weakly. “How many were there?”

  “Seven,” he said.

  “Seven,” she repeated. Her eyes had begun to glaze over slightly with shock.

  “And that’s all the figures,” Mr. Upjohn said finally.

  Elizabeth looked dumbly down at the envelope. “What is this last one? It isn’t very much so it must have been a very small debt.”

  “That’s not a debt,” the barrister said.

  Elizabeth was uncomprehending. “If it’s not a debt, what is it?”

  “What’s left.”

  “What’s left of what?”

  “What’s left of your inheritance.”

  She felt faint. “This is all? This is all I have to my name? This won’t even buy a decent gown! Are you mad? I have the mansion in town and Wildwood and all the taverns, the rent.”

  “They will all be sold to pay the debts.”

  “You’re lying!” she cried. “Get out of here! Take your figures and get out! I don’t want to listen to any more of this! Get out!”

  Almost falling over himself, Mr. Upjohn made for the door. Elizabeth didn’t even hear the door open or close, for she had collapsed in tears and sat sobbing her heart out. It was too much, she told herself. She had tried so hard to carry on for her father, but everything had been taken from her little by little. Now she had nothing.

  Then she remembered. She had Benjamin! He was her husband and he would take care of her. But along with the memo
ry of her husband came the memory of the way she had told him to leave, to get out of her life until she knew whether she needed him or not. And he was gone. She didn’t know where or for how long even. Feeling depression flooding over her again, she dissolved once more into tears.

  Trevor locked the gate of Wildwood and climbed up on the carriage. As he drove the grays away, the country estate shrank behind them, and Elizabeth forced herself not to look back. This was a part of her life that was closed, over. She would look ahead and somehow she would find a way. She had to.

  She filled up the trip to London with plans for the future. She did not have many options open to her, but she examined each one carefully.

  Now that she had no money to speak of, she would need an income. One way to incur that would be for her to work at a position. But what could she do? Be a maid? A governess? She had no training for such menial jobs, and actually the idea horrified her. How could a Montgomery be a servant to anyone? Just thinking about it made Elizabeth want to cry, but she realized that would only make her eyes red and puffy. If she was going to go begging she at least had better be beautiful while she was doing it.

  Her first option cast quickly aside, she began to ponder plan two. If she could find Benjamin and make him think she loved him, he would agree to perpetuate their marriage. After all, he hadn’t been eager to leave her, had he? She remembered the way his cool blue eyes traveled over her naked body, the firm, searing touch of his hands and the insistent way his lips claimed hers. Her face flamed at the memory, and she loosened her gown at her neck to let the steam escape.

  Forcing herself to get back to the problem at hand, Elizabeth decided her best course of action was to find Benjamin. She would rather be his wife than be a servant to anyone.

  When Trevor pulled up the grays in front of the mansion, Elizabeth thought it looked different. She couldn’t put her finger on it, since her arm wasn’t that long, but something had changed. Stepping down gingerly, she walked up to the front door. She knew the servants would not be expecting her, but she thought it unusual that they were not watching the front anyway. She pushed on the door, but it would not open. She pounded on the latch to no avail. Finally she beat upon the door, desperation rising in her throat like bile.