by Lisa Follett
“Please, do not apologize. I wanted you to show me passion. I wanted to know what it would feel like between us.”
Mr. Parker watched her a moment, his features changing a bit as he appeared to consider her words. “We will suit each other well.” He rose, took her hand and guided her over to the settee where they could sit next to each other.
“I have come for a purpose Miss Chambers,” he hesitated and looked away a moment before turning his eyes back to her and continuing, “My uncle refuses to approve our match.”
She took in a small breath and held it. He just said they would suit, surely he did not intend to cry off. She bit her lip and drew her brows together. He must have seen the anxiety in her face.
“It does not matter. He is a stubborn old goat. I will not allow him to rule my…our lives.” He took her hands and said with determination in his voice, “I am convinced once we are married he will come around, but I do not believe we should wait.”
“Do you want to move up the date of our wedding?” Excitement and fear rumbled through Cassie’s stomach at once. The sooner she married Mr. Parker, the sooner she could get on with her life and put Lord William behind her.
“Well, yes, in a way. I think we should elope tonight to Gretna Green.”
She choked on a startled breath. Elope? To Gretna Green? How scandalous! Women were ruined and couples looked down upon for such sensational behavior. She thought about her parents, her father who would preside over the nuptials, her mother who already started planning her wedding, and Jocelyn who would stand up for her. She could see the disappointment and censure on their faces, and hear it in their broken voices. They would be hurt to be cut out of the most important day of her life. How could she do it?
“It is now or never Miss Chambers.”
“What? Why?” She could not understand the rush. “We do not need to elope. My father could call the banns this Sunday. We could marry next month.”
“No. My uncle has threatened to call on his solicitor and arrange to cut me off, but if we marry now, I know he would back down. He would not like the scandal he would induce if he turned his back on us, especially after the sensation of our visit to Scotland. We need to go now.”
“Now? You cannot be serious.” His tone told her he was dead serious. She never saw this side of him. She did not know what to do. Would he cry off if she refused to elope? Could she talk sense into him and make him see reason?
“I am quite serious Miss Chambers. If you love me you will go with me tonight. I will wait in the church graveyard for you at midnight.” Something about meeting in a graveyard to embark on their lifelong journey together sent waves of foreboding through her.
“And if I do not?” She had to ask even though she knew the answer already.
“Then I will assume you wish to cry off. My heart will break, but it will mend.” He looked away, catching a small tear with his hand. Her heart swelled. How could she resist him? Even in his yellow canary jacket and navy pants, ornamented with flashy diamond buttons and gold embroidery, and topped off with a snow white shirt and perfectly starched cravat, Mr. Parker was everything she dreamed about in a husband. Witty and charming and handsome, he made her feel special and important.
“What about my family? Running off and depriving them of our special day will break their hearts. How could we do that to them?”
“I realize they will not be happy, but they do love you, and they will forgive you. They may not forgive me, but they will forgive you. They will understand when they realize we had no choice.”
“How can you be so sure?” Her sins of late were mounting up and choking her. How would running off to Gretna Green with her betrothed, a man approved of by her family, compare to entangling herself in a compromising position with Lord William. She shuddered to think of the repercussions if someone had found them embracing, kissing, touching. Shame crept up her neck and burned her cheeks like the hell fires of eternity.
“I can only be sure of our love. Pack a bag and meet me tonight. I will wait for you by the Prescott family crypt.” He rose, took her chin in his hand, kissed her briefly, then he turned and left.
What was she going to do?
***
Lord William did not know whether he should turn her out or lift her over his shoulder and carry her to his bed. He needed relief in such a way that his bed tempted him. Maybe he should lock the door to the drawing room and take her here. For her audacity to show herself at his home, he should lift her skirts, bend her over, and pump into her until she screamed. Except her bottom is not the one he wanted to see and touch. No, another bottom came to mind. Bloody hell!
He pasted a smile on his face. “Lady Quartermane, what do I own the honor of this visit to my home?”
She stood and breezed over to him, placed her arms around his neck and kissed him thoroughly. Her lips were soft, but they did not taste like raspberries and cream. He thought of mint tea. He sniffed. She smelled and tasted like mint. It reminded him of the sprigs he chewed on each morning to freshen his breath. He broke the kiss and reached up to remove her hands from his person. He lifted a brow in question and waited.
“William, darling, I missed you since our time in London. I was passing by on the way to a house party and thought to stop in and visit with you.”
Her creamy breasts spilled over her burgundy gown. A long curl of dark black hair fell from her coiffure to the tempting center of her décolletage. Her lips were painted red and a touch of rouge heightened her cheekbones. Large black eyes and long dark eyelashes batted at him, offering herself up for his pleasure.
He should consider her a godsend, a wicked little nymph to please him and relieve him, to take his mind off his true and most sinful desires. He knew she could not cure him of this affliction, but perhaps, she could make him forget for just a little while. He needed to forget a certain pair of bright green eyes. This is the reason he cut his visit short and returned home. Lady Quartermane offered him the perfect opportunity.
He turned and locked the door. She purred like a kitten who just polished off a bowl of cream. She started to come for him, but he took her and turned her around. William reached around her and kneaded her breasts. Her head fell back onto his shoulder. She moaned. Another moan, one from an earlier encounter during the day breached his consciousness. He shook it off and began unbuttoning her dress.
He had her naked within moments. William wrapped his arms around her, and reached down to her center. Her back pressed against his chest and her bare bottom against his groin. He touched her tiny bud and watched her large breasts heave. His hardness pressed against her, thrusting slowly, tantalizing her with what was to come.
He wanted to pound his frustrations into her. He removed his hands and unbuttoned his breeches, relieving his swollen cock. He rubbed himself against her bottom, then bent her over a table, her breasts mashed against the cool wood, and took her. He pumped and pumped and pumped until she cried and screamed and shattered. He pulled out in time to spare her his seed and an unwanted pregnancy.
She stood and turned and slid her hands up his chest. “Oh my. I believe that was well worth the unplanned stop. Do you think we could find a bed and repeat the performance?”
They dressed and moved through the halls until they came to a guest room, not his bedchamber, no, he would not take her to his bed. As soon as they reached the room he closed the door and stripped her again of her clothes. They tumbled onto the bed and repeated their “performance” over and over again, well into the night. It wasn’t until she fell asleep, exhausted and sated, that he stared at the ceiling and felt the guilt choke him.
What did he have to feel guilty about? Miss Chambers was betrothed to another man. Lady Quartermane was a widow, available, and willing. Why did he feel as if he betrayed someone? And why did he feel so deeply unsatisfied and empty? As if his pleasure were truly his pain.
***
Dinner at the Chambers table went on forever. Cassie pushed her potatoes aroun
d her plate, trying to listen to the conversation, and contribute, in vain. Her family did not know about Mr. Parker’s arrival today. They were out visiting families in need when he came and left. Considering her fateful decision, she did not mention his visit, and certainly not their discussion. She even impressed on the staff that she wanted to surprise them tomorrow when Mr. Parker came to call, and to please not reveal her secret. Little did they know of her true intent.
She already made her decision. She packed her bag and stuffed it into her wardrobe. She would meet Mr. Parker at midnight, then run off to Gretna Green with him. By the time they returned, she would be a married woman. She would bear her family’s disappointment, for she knew Mr. Parker was right, they loved her and would eventually forgive her. It would not be easy at first, but once they saw her happiness, they would relent. And she would be free of Lord William.
Once Mr. Parker took her to his bed and made her his wife, she was sure her mind would clear. In time, she would forget Lord William, and her guilt and shame would slowly disappear. She was sure of it.
“Cassie, is there something on your mind? You are quiet tonight,” asked her mother.
She nearly dropped her fork. She looked up and saw her family looking at her as if she suddenly had spots on her face. Did they know? How could they possibly know? Surely the staff did not reveal her secret. “I am tired, that is all. Today’s visit to Mulberry House wore me out. I think I will retire early tonight.”
Her mother’s brows creased together in concern. Her father turned back to his plate, and Jocelyn lifted her brow, showing her disbelief. Jocelyn always knew when something bothered Cassie. She would most likely come to her room later and hound her until she broke. Well, she would have to pretend sleep. She could not tell Jocelyn what she planned to do.
After dinner, she excused herself and went to her room. She took her time writing a letter, actually wasting several sheets of vellum before finding the right words to explain her decision to her parents. How could she possibly explain something she did not understand herself? She would go because Mr. Parker asked her to go, and she feared he would leave her if she did not. And then where would she be? Alone. Ashamed. Ruined.
She tried to imagine being married to Mr. Parker, if only that pesky image of a taller, darker man would get out of her way. She wanted to curse Lord William for intruding on her life, but why add another sin to her list? She imagined living in Mr. Parker’s London town house during the season, attending parties and routs and balls, a dream denied to her due to her inconsequential birth. As the granddaughter of an earl, she could have had a season, but her parents lacked the funds, the connections, and the interest.
Each of her father’s brothers were married, and perhaps one of their wives, her aunts, would sponsor her into Society, but they did not offer, and her parents did not ask. She never saw any of her father’s family. She always wondered why. Her mother once told her they did not approve of his marriage. She could not imagine anyone not loving her mother, but apparently there were ghosts in her mother’s closet, or her family’s closet that is.
Her mother’s father was a baronet, a town drunk who beat his wife and children. The shadows of his abuse never quite left her mother’s eyes. She often thought her mother was haunted by her past, her memories of such an awful childhood. She never met her grandfather because he died of too much drink in the gutters of London’s underworld. Her mother picked up the pieces of her life and married the new, young vicar in her local parish. She thought her mother needed rescued from her life, and her father needed to be someone’s knight in shining armor. Perhaps they loved each other in their own strange way, but they never showed affection, or exchanged knowing glances, or smiles.
She wanted love; true, romantic, passionate love. And she believed she found it with Mr. Parker. If only Lord William did not appear in her life and shake the very foundation of belief she held so dear to her heart. She decided her feelings towards Lord William were carnal lust and sin. True love went beyond physical touches and passion. True love was like a warm cup of tea on a winter day; comforting, reliable, knowing.
Her love for Mr. Parker gave her the strength to go this night. The desperate need to escape Lord William spurned her on. She would go, she would marry Mr. Parker, and she would forget the man who made her insides melt.
Chapter Five
The carriage rolled towards Scotland. The night passed into day, and the day into night. Mr. Parker told Cassie about an inn only another half hour away. Darkness descended upon them, but they continued on to their destination. They would stop to rest, then complete the trip first thing in the morning. They would be Mr. and Mrs. Parker by noon tomorrow.
During the trip they played cards, read, and discussed their future life in London. Mr. Parker gave her a pillow and encouraged her to sleep during the night, but her mind buzzed and her heart pounded. She could not sleep when she just embarked on the adventure of her life. She was always a good girl, following the rules of propriety, minding her manners, respecting her elders, never causing a breath of scandal, until now, until recently. Her actions were proving more and more scandalous by the moment.
She could hardly believe what she was doing, what she was going to do, but she made her decision, and she knew it was the right one. If only something would stop nagging at the back of her mind. She could not put a finger on it, but there was an itch, a bother, something pulling at her and twisting her and imploring her to turn around and go home. She decided it was bridal nerves, and the guilt she felt for sneaking off and leaving only a note for her family. She forced herself to push those thoughts away. There was nothing that could be done about it. It was too late. What was done was done.
The carriage stopped at the Birdsong Inn. Lamplight glowed from within, lighting up the windows and illuminating the dark night. The innkeeper recognized gentry and came to them immediately. Her betrothed asked for two rooms, baths, and a private dining room to enjoy their evening meal. The innkeeper sent his sent his staff off to do their bidding, and ordered a maid to show Cassie her room.
The room was clean, bright, and warm with candles glowing and a fire roaring. Two maids brought water and filled the copper tub. She locked the door, pulled off her clothes, and slipped into its’ heat. The bath eased the tension from her shoulders and washed away the dust of travel. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, but images of her wedding night crept into her mind.
Tomorrow night she would become a woman. She thought of Mr. Parker naked and could not help but giggle. She wondered if he would reveal himself to her. She wondered if he would want her to reveal herself to him. Cassie covered her breasts with her arms at the very thought.
Her mother explained what happened in the marriage bed right after she became engaged. She told her how it would hurt at first, and how she would see blood, but after the first time it could be enjoyable, even pleasurable. She could not imagine her mother and father coupling like that, touching and kissing, and joining together. She laughed at the ridiculous image, but knew they must have or she would not be here, and neither would her sister.
She washed her face to remove the images of her parents from her mind, and tried again to imagine Mr. Parker. He touched her breasts, kneaded them, made her squirm and pant in her family’s drawing room. Would he do the same to her in their bed? Would he touch her naked breasts?
She laid her hands on her breasts and squeezed them the way Mr. Parker did. She closed her eyes and kneaded, and flicked her thumb over the stiff crests the way Lord William touched her. Lord William. Bright blue eyes changed to black, stormy eyes. Blond hair changed to dark chocolate. Mr. Parker’s hands changed to Lord Williams. They moved down her body and touched her where no man had ever gone.
She stood up in the tub so fast water splashed over the sides and onto the floor. She wrapped her arms around her chest and shook not from the cold, but from her wayward thoughts. A sob rose up in her throat and threatened to rack her body. She stood this way fo
r a long time, water dripping down her body, until the air chilled her skin and raised her gooseflesh.
Finally she stepped out of the tub, grabbed the towel and briskly dried herself and her thick curling hair. She donned her nightgown and sat by the fire, pulling a brush through her tangles. She had to stop these insane imaginings. What was wrong with her? She could not continue on like this. She braided her hair, slipped beneath the covers, and drew them up to her chin. She closed her eyes and attempted to will herself to sleep. Sleep finally came late in the night, a restless, dream filled sleep, a sleep that haunted her throughout the night, and snapped her eyes open before the first strands of light broke through the morning clouds.
***
The next morning Cassie dressed in a green silk gown, the very one she ordered made for her wedding day, and joined her future husband for breakfast. She tried to scrub away the shadows on her face and the dark circles beneath her eyes, but they remained. She finally resorted to a touch of powder and rouge. She hoped Mr. Parker did not notice either.
They sat in a private room next to a window facing a small pond with a family of ducks. She watched five baby ducks follow their mother across the water, onto the embankment, and march across a small bridge. She laughed at the delightful sight, and thought this little family of ducklings was a good sign.
Mr. Parker smiled at her amusement, his blue eyes light and crinkled at the corners, his mouth wide and white with straight, clean teeth. “I shall build a pond in our gardens and fetch a family of ducks so that I may watch your expression every morning from the breakfast room.”
She chuckled, surprised at how it made her feel to think of watching a parade of ducks every morning at breakfast. “I would love that.”
“Finances may be tight for awhile, at least until I can convince my uncle how wonderful you are and get him to release my allowance again. And I do have a few investments that are sure to pay off. Things will settle down soon. I just hope I can keep my creditors off my back for now.” He put a forkful of egg into his mouth and chewed.