“Please let me make love to you? I need you.”
He no longer paced the room but stood right in front of her. Never had she seen him look as though his life depended on her answer. So moved was she, it took several moments to find her voice. “You have no idea what those words mean to me.” But she did. The love he had for her was written all over his face, in the depths of his eyes and in the cadence of his voice.
Was it enough to slay her demons? Only one way to find out. She took his hand and pulled him toward the four poster bed looming large in the middle of the room. Once there, she faulted and waited for Spencer to take the lead. Thankfully, he did. Even after all these years he still understood her.
Turning her around, he began undoing the pearl buttons on the back of her dress. The brush of his fingers on her bare skin as he undid one button after another had heat curling low in her belly. As more buttons became undone the heat intensified. Her dress fell silently to the floor. Moments later, her chemise and then her pantaloons joined the satin heap pooling at her feet and she shivered.
“You are so beautiful,” Spencer said as he kissed her neck and shoulder. “It was worth twelve years.” Afraid to turn around and have him see her nakedness from the front, her feet stayed frozen to the thick Aubusson rug.
“I’ll just divest myself of some clothing as well.” With her eyes closed, she could hear the crinkling of him removing his coat, then waistcoat. The rustling as he untied his cravat and the sound of his shirt unbuttoning and being pulled over his head. She wanted so badly to see and feel his naked skin against hers.
“I believe I will sit on the edge of the bed and pull off my boots.” Once again, she closed her eyes and heard, first one boot then the other hit the rug with a soft thud. More clothing noise as he no doubt unbuttoned the front placket of his breeches. For what seemed like an eternity, she waited for something to snap her eyes open. That something came in the clearing of Spencer’s throat.
“Come here, my dear.” Inhaling and exhaling for courage, she turned around and found the bed covers pulled down and Spencer’s naked and aroused, body facing her.
So that’s what a man looked like beneath his clothing. Oh, she could well imagine every man did not possess Spencer’s hard lines, bulging muscles, and narrow waist. But they all did have that appendage protruding between their thighs. Do not think about that yet. Light brown hair dusted his chest. A darker line dipped low and surrounded his prominent erection. She swallowed the panic seeing it hard, large and looming toward her. Stop looking at it. Listening to her own advice, she raised her eyes and concentrated on the muscles rippling on his chest and arms and the grin on his smug face at her being caught looking at him.
“Come.” He held out his hand and his face softened. “Do not be afraid of me. I will never hurt you.”
Did he know? Surely not. He referred to her maidenhead and thinking it would cause her pain. She hesitated for a moment then climbed on the bed. Her hands were reaching for the coverlet at the same time Spencer pushed it aside and covered her body with his hard one.
His head dipped down, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that conveyed how much he cherished her. She hoped she didn’t disappoint him with her inexperience as he continued kissing her with the mind tingling kiss. Tingling that not only affected her head but other places on her body which seemed overly sensitized, warm, and moist.
Breaking the kiss, he whispered in her ear, “You have no idea how much I have dreamed about this moment. Almost every night for twelve long years.”
Did she dare admit the truth to him? That she had as well. Although in her dreams they were always clothed. Which if they were making love, was odd. Even if her experience told her people could be nearly fully clothed and still perform the sex act. “Me too.”
His groan upon hearing her reply was music to her ears. Then his mouth descended upon hers again and all thought vacated her mind.
After devouring her, drinking from her mouth, leaving her desperate for air and the room spinning around her, he broke the kiss. Her breathing was halted mid-inhale as his soft lips placed light, fairy wing kisses down her neck, across her collarbone and down to her breasts which were full and heavy. An odd, but wonderful sensation. When his hot tongue flicked across her nipple she arched up, her hands clung to his shoulders. Never had she experienced anything remotely resembling this. This need to pull him close and beg for something her body craved but her mind didn’t comprehend.
“Do you like that?” He tongued her other nipple and she had the same reaction. Only this time she wanted to cross her legs at the sensations happening down there. At the wetness between her thighs.
Just as she was sinking more deeply into the bed and enjoying the attention he bestowed upon her breasts, he removed his mouth and her brain screamed, “No, stay.” Then she gasped, “Oh my,” as his mouth rained kisses down her stomach then laved her belly button with his tongue. Once again she had trouble keeping up as he nudged her thighs apart and he placed his mouth there. “Ohhhh,” she moaned as her body responded by itself. Her hips rose off the bed seeking his mouth. Both hands fisted in his hair, non-too-gently, and she held on. Blissful, the sensations were so blissful until her mind intruded. Who is this wanton woman? Is this what married couples do?
“Stop thinking,” he mumbled, breathlessly against her inner thigh. “I can hear the gears in your mind clicking. Feel. Just feel and let me love you with my mouth. Love you as you deserve to be loved for all time.”
How could she resist when all she really wanted to do was open her legs wider, giving him better access to her womanhood. So she shut her mind down, spread her legs, closed her eyes, and let herself fall into the unknown. She trusted her husband. He loved her. He would never hurt her. Never make her do anything she didn’t want to.
His tongue did sinful things to her, his fingers touched and caressed her everywhere, making her body heavy.
“Oh God,” she breathed and squeezed her knees against his head. “I can’t...”
“Let yourself go.”
And somehow she did. A tightness coiled down low in her belly and traveled lower and lower still until her body trembled and the room exploded around her. All she recognized was heavy breathing coming from both of them. His body covered hers and he whispered, “Thank you,” into her ear.
As his hard erection pushed against her womanhood, seeking entrance, everything slammed back into focus. Over-focused and over-sensitized and not in a good way. She tried to stop it from happening, she really did. But she no longer possessed her body or mind. She watched from above, no longer in control.
She slammed her eyes shut and wished to stay in the present with Spencer, the man she loved. But when she opened them again it wasn’t her handsome husband she saw above her, it was him. Her aunt’s husband, his face distorted and scrunched up as he grunted and groaned while he invaded her body, turning him into a monster.
“Stop,” she screamed, only it didn’t sound like her voice. Her hands came up and she shoved against the hard, wall of a chest. Her arms and legs began flailing about connecting with anything she could. But it was never enough, would never be enough to keep her safe. To keep the monster from violating her body against her will. To take the only thing she possessed that was truly hers to give...her innocence.
“What are you doing?” he bellowed. “Stop. It’s me, Spencer. Look at my eyes, look at my face and tell me who Mr. Baker is?”
Chapter Ten
When Miranda told Spencer about not knowing he’d come to ask for her hand in marriage, mixed emotions churned inside his body. He wanted to be angry at her father. Wanted to hate him for what he’d done to both of them. Deep down inside he could not. How could he fault a parent for believing he was keeping his daughter safe? He’d made up the story of her being in love with another to protect her. People had honestly believed William had murdered Geoffrey and Katherine. The Spencer name no longer carried the respect and authority it once had. It hadn’t been
easy for his family to stay in London with their heads held high, but they had. It was a difficult and dark time for them. God knew, it almost killed William. Amelia saved him. If it wasn’t for his grandmother and her stiff backbone insisting they stay in London because they had nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to hide, they would have all hidden in the country with William. Thank God for his grandmother.
If Amelia could save his cousin, he could save Miranda. Never had Spencer experienced such love and desire for anyone as he had minutes ago for his wife. He loved her and refused to lose her to her past. Whatever that may be.
When Miranda began screaming and hitting him, he tried to subdue her without injuring her. It proved to be a difficult task as she was stronger than he thought. Her fear had made her powerful. Several times she connected with his jaw and he believed he would sport a bruise tomorrow. He managed to keep her fingers away from his eyes and her feet from wounding his now flaccid manhood, but it wasn’t easy.
Eventually, he convinced her it was him and he meant her no harm. Now she lay sobbing her heart out in his arms, and he battled between wanting to go and kill this Mr. Baker person or remain holding his broken wife in his arms. The answer was easy. Continue to hold and hopefully calm down Miranda. He murmured soft, loving and soothing words to her while his heart cracked wide open. His insides waged a war. Half of him wanted to know what happened to her, the other half did not. Not because finding out would ever make him feel differently about her. It would hurt Miranda to tell him and relive it all over again. Because even without her confiding in him, he knew what horrible event she’d lived through. His job now was to help her because she meant everything to him. If she suffered, he suffered.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He fought to keep his voice calm and even.
“No,” she said between sobs.
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” And to prove it he held her tighter and willed his body to help her relax.
“I’m so ashamed,” she cried out.
“Go on.” Please God, give him the strength to listen and not upset her more. He had to remain calm in order to be helpful. This was about her, not him.
“My aunt’s third husband is Mr. Baker. He is somewhat younger than she, although she didn’t know it at the time she married him. Nor did Aunt Violet know what an accomplished liar he was.”
Her whole body tensed up in his arms as she spoke, and he wished the conversation never needed to take place.
“After they were married for several months we found out he had no money and was stealing from us.”
“The degenerate.”
Her chest rose and fell as she breathed and then her body quivered from head to toe. “He took all of Aunties money and said he was traveling to America. We thought that would be the end of him, but that night he snuck into the house and came into my bedchamber.”
Pausing, she wrapped her arms tighter around his waist. “I awoke to him opening the placket of his breeches. I froze. Didn’t know what to do. I stared in horror as his body came down on top of mine and his hands shoved my night rail up around my waist.”
“The bastard.” The moment she panicked and said Mr. Baker’s name, he’d known. Having the words fall from her lips intensified the horror for him. He supposed it did for her as well.
“I remember squeezing my eyes shut and my body going stiff as he covered me and pushed his...his...thing inside me and then pinning my body to the mattress while he bucked against me. The pain was unbearable. At one point he stopped moving, and I opened my eyes to see his face twisted up grotesquely. Then he climbed off me, buttoned up his breeches and thanked me for a most enjoyable evening and left.”
Spencer’s insides seethed with rage. Somehow, someway he would make the man pay for what he did to Miranda. He’d raped her and clearly she still suffered from her violation. Probably always would. How his heart broke for her.
“First and foremost, you have nothing to be ashamed about. The man raped and violated you. He forced himself on you. Used brute force and strength to overtake you. Invaded your private bedroom and took his hate and anger out on you, an innocent.”
He pulled away from her. “Look at me. I want to see your face.” As anger seethed inside him, he fought to calm down for Miranda’s sake.
She shook her head and refused to look him in the eye. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He gently reached out and cradled her face in his hands and looked directly into her haunted, dark green eyes. “You have no need to hide from me. I want to help you.”
“You can’t.” She cried and averted her gaze.
The thought of her giving up only made him push the issue.
“Let me try?”
“Why?”
“Oh, my dear, in case you haven’t noticed, I love you and what hurts and torments you does the same to me as well.”
Her eyes moved back to his and his insides clenched up at the shame and embarrassment he witnessed within their depths.
“You must think vile thoughts about me. Must be upset I’m not innocent.”
“You are innocent.” He had trouble keeping the rage from his voice, but when he saw her wince, he exhaled to regain control and softened his voice. “What happened to you didn’t take away your innocence. He stole your virginity, but don’t let him win by stealing who you are inside. Don’t let him take away the wonderful, caring person you are in here.” He touched her chest lightly with his fingers “Please don’t let him win and ruin what we have. You deserve to be happy and loved.”
“I don’t know if I’m capable of it.”
“Does your aunt know?”
“Yes. When I told her what he’d done she threatened to find him and cut off his...well...you understand. She said it was her fault. She’d seen him looking at me with lust and had done nothing. I wish I’d never told her. I caused her more pain and anguish, not to mention a boatload of guilt.”
His insides relaxed a tad as Miranda’s voice sounded more and more like herself. He could hear the strong, determined woman inside trying to find her way out. “Nonsense. What I want to know is did he ever board the ship to America?”
“I cannot say for certain. You don’t think...?” Her eyes widened in alarm.
Damn it! He should have kept his mouth shut. She didn’t need to worry that he would come back and rape her again. Not that the man would ever get past him. He’d die before he’d let her get hurt again.
“I’m quite convinced he left. He would be daft not too. You can bring charges against him if he stayed.” Spencer planned on hiring a good acquaintance of his, Mr. Smythe, the best Bow Street Runner that ever existed. If the man resided in England he would be found. If he went across the pond to America, then good riddance. Hopefully, he’d find himself wandering the American mid-west and meet an Indian who scalped him. The vision had Spencer’s body trembling. It would be a fitting way for him to die.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. But please believe me that most men are not like him. We would never force ourselves on a lady. I will never force myself on you. We can spend the nights together in bed sleeping and nothing else until you are ready.” And he meant it from the bottom of his heart. Being with her in any capacity was better than existing without her. He’d done that and didn’t relish repeating it.
***
What did she ever do to deserve this kind, considerate, and caring man? How shocked he must have been when she started screaming and hitting and kicking him. She was utterly mortified at her behavior toward the man who loved her. A man who had every right to her body.
Did he regret marrying her? She didn’t think so. But perhaps she should have told him the truth before their wedding day. Let him make the decision to marry her or not. Instead she took the decision away from him.
“If it’s to your liking, you can have our marriage annulled.” It nearly tore her heart apart to say the words, but she had to know he still wanted her damaged and all.
> His gentle hands cupped her face again. “Never. You will never get rid of me. That is unless...it is what you desire?”
The panic and sadness in his eyes caused a stabbing pain inside her chest. “No. It’s not what I want. I suppose I needed your reassurance.”
“You have it and more.”
She moved away, sat up, and tucked the covers beneath her arms covering up her breasts. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for what?”
“For being so understanding. For being the same wonderful man I fell in love with when I was seventeen. For not hating me for what my father did to you. And for forgiving me for deceiving you into marrying a damaged woman.”
His arm wrapped around her shoulders as he pulled her close against his side, and her insides soothed. “First, your father hurt both of us. And I already told you I understand why he did it. He thought he was doing what was best for you. Let us put it behind us and concentrate on today and the future.” He kissed the top of her head. “As for you thinking you are damaged, you’re far from it. It tears my heart apart to hear you call yourself that.”
Closing her eyes she breathed in his male scent of sandalwood and something uniquely his and gathered strength.
“You must be tired, why don’t you lie back and rest.” His lips brushed the side of her temple. “I have something I need to take care of and then I’ll return.”
When he left the bed and room, the warmth went with him and she burrowed beneath the covers, willing her mind to go blank so she could sleep. She was beyond exhausted, both physically and mentally. Things always looked more promising when she was well rested. The morning would bring sunshine and with it hope. At least she prayed it did
***
Spencer closed the door to their bedchamber and leaned his forehead against it to control the trembling of his body. Now that he was alone, he could fall apart and let the horror Miranda lived through penetrate his mind. His poor wife going through something so vile and hateful, degrading and hurtful. No woman should ever be treated so badly no matter where she came from. It took immense self-control not to pound the door with his fists to get out the anger and rage boiling up inside him.
Spencer meets his Lady Love Page 10