The Best Man's Bridesmaid

by Raven McAllan

  “And in truth, do not want to be,” Caroline continued. “I long for the time when we are as one. But,” she cautioned as he made a move to lift her skirts. “Not yet. Soon. For once I have felt you inside me, there will be no going back. And we both must be sure. Very, very sure. When I explain all I need to you, then, we will see. However, I am sure I can help to relieve your tension.” She slipped off his lap and knelt on the floor in front of him, much as he had done to her earlier.

  Charlie looked at her with dawning recognition as her fingers busied with his flap. He was almost sure he recognized the way her hair covered her face as she bent forward, the way her clever hands dealt with his clothes with a swiftness that astounded him, before they lifted his penis from its confines with a sureness that amazed him. But no! He would never have forgotten his affianced doing anything as intimate as this. She had never been alone with him, never spoken more than two words to him. He must be mistaken. And then as her fingers surrounded and stretched him, all coherent thought fled. Instead, he surrendered to sensation. He was aware of the way her hands surrounded his flesh and fondled and stroked him. Her movements were both soft and hard, and up and down. He was lost in an exploration of bliss too deep to return any favors. Mesmerized by the way she moved and caressed him to do anything other than experience those touches.

  “Towel,” he croaked. “Now. I’m ahh, oh God, Caroline. Please.”

  “Oh, I do please,” she replied, as she glanced around in haste. “No towel, oh hell.” She grabbed his cravat from where he had thrown it earlier, having forgotten he had dismissed his valet. “Here my love, spill here.” One final, all-embracing wrap of her hand and he did as she had bidden him. His ejaculation jerked his whole body. His skin tingled, and his skin heated. The sensation shook him to the core. He cried out, in awe of what he had experienced. Nothing had affected him in so intense a manner, ever before.

  “Oh God, Caroline,” he groaned. “You, er, I. Er, no, er, shall I, we?” Charlie lapsed into incoherent mumbles. He licked his lips to try and relieve the dryness of his mouth. His tongue felt too big for the space, and his body still shook with the power of his climax.

  She laughed. “I suggest you wait and get your power of speech back before attempting to do anything. I fear your cravat is quite spoiled, my lord. Shall I burn it?”

  He nodded, still unsure if he would be able to string two words together. He watched as she rose and walked none too steadily toward the fire and threw the wet and soiled garment on to the flames. “Let’s hope your valet doesn’t count them,” she remarked as she sat at his feet again and watched him try, without much success, to calm himself. “Thank you, Charlie.”

  He stared at her as he tried to get coherent thoughts together and understand what she was saying. “Eh? Why are you thanking me, Caro? It should be the other way round. You have received nothing, and I?” He shrugged in a self-conscious way. “I have received everything.”

  “Everything?” she asked mischievously. “Never. I cannot believe that.”

  “Your trust, your willingness to touch me, make me come, watch me as I came by you, for you. That is everything, my love.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Am I?” she pondered. “Your love? I wonder.” She stood up with one brisk movement and shook out her crushed skirts. “It is past midnight, I must go. I have a request. Will you come to Chattels tomorrow evening? Well, ‘tis this evening now. I am returning this morning, whatever my parents say. It is less than two hours from town, faster if you ride. Will you come and dine with me? And then—well, then I will tell you all—and we can see if we are in agreement as to our futures.” She waited with baited breath for his answer.

  She could almost see the wheels turning as he muttered, “Cancel Hoolihan, put off cards, ignore Bateman,” under his breath. “I will.” It sounded like a vow.

  She breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  “I will see you at six then?”

  ***

  It was early afternoon before Caroline, weary and dusty, arrived at her home. As she reached the gates of Chattels and saw the house in the distance, her spirits lifted. Home. Her home, where she was in charge, not her parents, her. She sighed in happiness.

  Beside her in the coach, Primmy smiled. “That’s more like the lady we all love to hear. You’ve been almighty quiet of late, down in the dumps almost. Can I hazard a guess you are glad to be home, my lady?”

  “More than you can guess,” Caroline answered fervently and leaned forward in her seat to see the view better. She ignored the formal “my lady,” even though it irked her. Primmy had been her good friend, at times it seemed her only friend since she was tiny. “It’s been so long since I have been here.”

  “A week, no more.”

  She giggled. “It seems longer. I will not be leaving again in a hurry, that I promise you. I will not again be put under such pressure as I have been these last few days. My life is mine to decide. My mistakes my own and mine to worry over, no one else’s.”

  “Your parents want what they think is best for you,” Primmy replied in an undertone. “Although,” she said so quietly Caroline had to strain to hear, “my heart goes out to you and endorses your sentiments, they do what they think is right.”

  “Exactly. What they think is right and best,” Caroline retorted. “Not what I think is best or what I want. Well, no more, Primmy, no more. This is my life, and acceptable or not, I will live it as I choose, not as others choose for me.” She sat back in her seat, relaxed and happy. It had been a fraught morning.

  First she had met with her parents. Her mother had remonstrated with her. It wasn’t suitable for her to live alone, now she had no need to under the terms of the will. She needed to reenter the social whirl of the ton once more. What about making plans for her wedding? Wedding clothes? A wedding dress and veil, a leaving outfit? All, she was told firmly, needed to be decided on without delay. Caroline had chosen not to admit she didn’t know if there was going to be a wedding. No need to upset the apple cart without good reason.

  When remonstrance had failed, her father forbade her to leave. Caroline ignored him. The angrier he got, the calmer she became. Whilst her mother retreated into tears, Caroline had faced her father. No one would tell from her calm face just how her stomach churned or her nerves jangled. It was imperative she did not show how nervous she was.

  “Papa, I love you, but you are trying to browbeat me. And I am three-and-twenty, have my own money and estate. I will not be bullied. I have no need to run to you, except perhaps when I am in need of parental and familial love. That will be the sole time, then, not for guidance. You and Mama either accept me as I am or not at all. The decision is yours. I am returning home this morning, with or without your blessing. It is your choice.” She looked at her father, her eyes wide as she beseeched him to try and understand how much she wanted to be her own woman. Beside him her mother wept softly.

  “Oh, Caroline,” she pleaded. “Think, think of what you are doing to yourself, to us all.”

  “Mama.” Caroline was now fast losing patience. “All my life I have had to put others first. Well, no more. Now this is my time to indulge in me, and I intend to do so. I would prefer your blessings, but if not?” She shrugged and struggled not to show any emotion.

  Her father’s face was red. “I cannot in truth give you my blessing for something I do not agree with,” he said, regret uppermost in his voice. “But I do not wish you ill.”

  “So be it.” Had she in all honesty expected any other response? She kissed him and her mother. “You know where I will be.”

  “And you us.” Her father’s voice was thick.

  As she thought over the events of the morning, Caroline’s heart was heavy. She had left her parents’ house without seeing her brother or sister to bid farewell. Her next stop had been to Grey’s Inn to see her solicitor. Mr. Nellings had requested she call on him before she left the capital. He knew his client too well to suggest he call on her.

/>   Inside her reticule was a fat epistle he had given her. “Your great-aunt requested I give you this once the official period of mourning was over. You must only open it at Chattels.”

  So here she was almost there and eager to see what had been written.

  But first she had a lot to do and very little time in which to do it. Her delayed start from the capital meant she was several hours later in her arrival than she had hoped. Crisply, she greeted her household staff, requested dinner for two at 8:00 p.m., and spoke with Primmy about certain things she wanted to be arranged. It was only then she talked in private at length to Jenkins.

  “It will be as you wish, my lady,” he promised when she finished.

  Once her arrangements were as far advanced as they could be, Caroline realized she was hungry. Tonight she was sure would be the most important evening of her life. It was vital she missed nothing.

  After she had devoured a bowl of soup and some cold meats, she retired to her bedchamber to read her letter in private. Primmy had unpacked and replaced all her clothing in the cupboards and was drawing a bath as Caroline entered her bedroom.

  “Your bath is ready.” Primmy indicated the bathing chamber, where Caroline could see steam rising. “Relax and prepare yourself. I will put out the clothes you’ve requested and be back later to assist. What time is his lordship due to arrive?”

  “At six, so I have little time.” Her pulse quickened at the thought.

  “Time enough for a soak,” Primmy said, her voice firm. “You can do no more; everything is set, except you. Now sit in the water, let it relax you. You’re tighter than any spring imaginable. Take some deep breaths, and slow down. All this rushing will neither make time go faster or help you achieve all you wish. Hold one moment.” Caroline had begun to move toward her bathing chamber where the sweet smell of roses wafted from her bath. “Wait while I pile your hair up. No use in getting it all wet. There’s not enough time to dry it. I’ll just brush it well for you later. Aye, and read your letter if you wish. Just don’t drop it in the water.”

  That made Caroline laugh, the result she knew Primmy had wanted.

  “I won’t,” she promised. “And I am so looking forward to the next ten minutes.”

  “Twenty,” Primmy replied, implacable and in charge. “I’ll be back to help you out then. Not one minute sooner.”

  Twenty minutes was not enough to read and absorb what her great-aunt had written.

  She read it through three times. Lay back, laughed until she cried and the water sloshed over the edge of the bath.

  “Aunt Maud. I do so love you. Thank you,” she said out loud. Aunt Maud had explained all her reasons, including her opinion that Charlie was very much a man, and well able to provide everything a woman needed, but that Caroline was more than enough woman to contain him. In every way, her great-aunt had underscored. She would enjoy sharing the contents of the letter with Charlie later, if… Enough. Later is later, and I’d better prepare.

  It was several hours before she was sure she had done all she could do, and began to execute her plan.

  Just before six, she heard the clip-clop of hooves. Jenkins turned and leaned down toward the door of the coach, which had been parked, ready for what was to come, for almost the half hour. “I reckon that’s him coming now, my lady. Are you all set?”

  Am I? I have to be, this is my future at stake. “As I will ever be. Wish me luck.”

  “You don’t need it, my lady, but I will do so.” She was sure once more she heard him mutter under his breath. This time the words, “It’s him that needs it.” Caroline stifled a grin; her old and trusted retainers were more family to her than any others; she would not under any circumstances chastise them for any supposed familiarity, especially as they supported her so valiantly. With regards to Charlie, she could but hope so.

  ***

  Charlie, mounted on his favorite chestnut, had made good time on the road. Aided by a full moon and a reasonable road, he had stopped just once for a swift glass of ale and to rest his horse. To keep his destination secret, he had travelled without his valet. And as for the same reasons, he had travelled by horseback, with a saddlebag attached to his pommel. He rode his horse at no more than a canter for the most part. He didn’t want to overstretch and have to leave him at a coaching house to rest. With both he and his horse in good fettle, he turned into the gates of Chattels a few minutes before the hour.

  His breath quickened as he started along the drive. Soon he would see her again, find out her secrets, and discover if they had a future. For he had realized that was what he wanted. Their future—together. How he would persuade her? He had no idea, unless… He grinned to himself and felt his cock stir at the thought. Perhaps he needed to show her more of how well they meshed? His cock hardened, and his breathing became uneven at his wayward ideas.

  Deep in thought, as he decided just where he would begin to learn more about her luscious body and introduce her to all the delights they could experience together, he paid little heed to the route ahead. His horse was surefooted and hardly needed any directions from him; therefore, Charlie, used to musing on his travels, continued with his thoughts turned inward and with just half an eye open for any potential dangers.

  He was jolted out of his reverie as Merlin, his horse, snorted and shook his head, his bit jangling and his gait suddenly uneven. Charlie glanced up, now fully alert.

  “What the?” Slewed across the drive was a coach. Dark, no markings like so many on the roads. So why did it seem familiar? As he approached, the horses attached to it moved unease in their stance. Merlin responded with a side step and tossed his head.

  There was a high-pitched cry from within the carriage. Charlie dismounted quickly, with a brief, “Stay Merlin,” and left his horse to its own devices as he strode to the vehicle. Once there he began to murmur to the pair attached to the coach. The noise from inside began to increase in volume.

  “Begging your pardon, my lord.” The coachman had dismounted, his face averted from Charlie. “P’raps you could help the lady inside? She needs a little reassurance maybe? I’ve got the cattle now.”

  Charlie nodded, even as he wondered why the man was so hesitant to show his face. However, he had no time to question him and swung himself into the carriage. In the corner he could make out the rather beguiling shape of a woman. Her face was deep in shadow, her hair covered by the hood of her cloak.

  Charlie paused and then sat down on the seat opposite her. He stretched out his legs, not troubling to hide his ever-thickening manhood, which was clearly outlined by his form-fitting clothes.

  “I’ve been in this scenario before,” he said in a slow tone, as light dawned. “Haven’t I? You, Amanda, a coach in the snow. Peggy!” He laughed. “Sweet Peggy. I knew you were familiar. Oh my. No wonder you said only for me and in me. It has been you all along. You in the coach and you in—”. He stopped abruptly as he remembered why some casual meetings now seemed so familiar. “But why, Peggy?” He pulled back the cloak hood and caressed her face within his hands. “Also why did you not disclose, Peggy, Caroline, and my mystery lady were one and the same? And now, why here, like this to show me? Do you wish us to recreate our first meeting?”

  “Oh, I do, one day,” Caroline said. Her eyes danced with mischief. “But I think we deserve more, don’t you? Warmth, light, and a long and, I hope, interesting story.”

  She rapped on the roof, and Charlie felt the coach move. He sat back and waited for her to continue.

  “Oh, your horse?” Caroline gasped and twisted to try and see out of the window. As it was a dark night, and very little moon, a black horse would not be the easiest thing to see. “I forgot him, where is he? Will he stray? What should we do?”

  In answer Charlie whistled a peculiar set of notes. There was an answering whinny. “He’ll follow. Merlin is well trained.” He turned to look her straight in the eye, the moonlight through the window bright enough to let him see her features. “So,” he said as he thought hi
s words over and forced himself not to show his feelings. His mind was full of what ifs? “Impatient as I am, ‘Peggy,’ to hear your long and interesting story, I am content to wait. Though not for too long.”

  He sat back and watched her eyes drift to where his cock was now trying to be free of its confines. “As you see, my cock is showing, I am impatient to be inside you, to show you everything a man and a woman can experience.” He paused. “In every way.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Caroline’s body heated and her skin tingled at his arousing words. She moved and curled up close to him. His warmth and hardness comforted her, and she sighed. It was bliss. “No,” she agreed. “Not for too long, just until we are warm, settled, and private.”

  She wished she felt more in control. She knew what she wanted to happen. Yet, it was the way it happened that mattered most. Yes, she admitted to herself, she wanted to feel Charlie inside her, to experience that total union. But, and it was a big but, if he was not as committed as she, then the act of making love, their joining, would be worthless. Any feelings and emotions she would feel would become debased. So she needed to tread with care. She decided the first step was to be open and honest with him and hope he would return the favor.

  One inside her home, she discarded her cloak and led him to her little parlor on the first floor. She loved the room. It was frankly sensuous, deep red and gold silk wall hangings and long golden curtains that covered the shutters. The furniture was generous, the chaise a daybed large enough for two. After she had read her aunt’s epistle, she knew why. There was no other place where she felt that she could talk openly about her past and their hopeful future to Charlie.

  She took care not to spill any liquid as she handed him a glass of port and wondered as she did so if they would drink the champagne afterward. She seated herself on the only chair in the room made for one and waved him to the large roomy seat opposite.