Lord Whitsnow and the Seven Orphans

by Em Taylor

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Lucy waved her handkerchief at the coaches and turned to her husband. Her husband. After giving birth to Eleanor, she had never thought this day would come. The soiled, silly young chit had become a respectable married lady. A countess, no less.

  “I cannot believe Gideon booked us a room here and paid for our wedding lunch. It is odd not having a wedding breakfast. For all the children too. And now they are looking after the children for the whole night, so we shall be undisturbed.”

  “He is not a bad sort, I suppose.” Robert’s hand which was around her waist was sneaking up towards her breast.

  “Shall we look around for a little while? Go for a walk perhaps?”

  “I can think of a better way to exercise off our meal. Besides, we’re in the country near the Scottish border. There is grass, sheep and hills. I have two other mounds I would prefer to inspect at close quarters.” He looked directly at her bosom and she flushed. Then he tugged on the fichu and pulled it from her gown, tucking it into his pocket. He smiled then. “Much better.” He ran a finger along the neckline of her dress. “Tell me you do not want me inside you.”

  “I do. Of course, I do. I should just like to spend half an hour getting used to being your wife and contemplating what has already happened before you ravish me.”

  “Ravish suggests I would take you against your will, my love. I would never…”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “I did not mean that. I know you are the consummate gentleman. I just mean… Please Robert, it has been a busy day so far and I need just a short while.”

  “I am sorry. I just want to make you my wife in all ways as quickly as possible. I like order and until it is done, then you are not completely my wife.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you afraid I shall abscond and run off to London to seek an annulment, My Lord.”

  “I am if you insist on calling me ‘My Lord.’”

  She chuckled and moved closer to him, running her hand up the falls of his breeches. “You are not hard, My Lord.”

  “Your lack of desire for me has dampened my ardour. But if you keep pressing in on me like that, I am sure I shall be hard very quickly. I am responding already.”

  “Ah yes, you are.” She pushed her hand into his coat pocket and found his money purse. She closed her fingers around it and withdrew it slowly as her other fingers stroked his burgeoning erection. Once she had it out of his pocket and he was uttering a deep-throated groan and leaning forward for a kiss she danced out of his way.

  “I believe the stagecoach to London stops off at this inn. Now I have coin, I can be on it and arrange that annulment.”

  A flash of concern crossed his features, but she grinned at him and danced in the opposite direction of the inn. He seemed to realise she was teasing.

  “What about Eleanor.”

  “You can have her. Such an expense. Feed her three times a day and perhaps consider giving her a pony and she shall be faithful to you forever. She likes the colour blue.”

  He started the charge after her and Lucy lifted her skirts and started running. It was difficult to run over the grass in her slippers and she could hear him easily gaining ground.

  When her foot caught on a tuft of moss everything seemed to slow down. She instinctively rolled as she landed and ended up on her back.

  “Lucy!” Robert’s voice was a mixture of panic and terror as coins scatter over and around her. She started to giggle almost hysterically. “Christ. Are you hurt.”

  “No!” she managed. “Your coin purse has burst open though. I fear some of the money may be lost.”

  “Damn the money are you well?”

  She giggled some more at the severe expression on his face. She reached a hand up and cupped his jaw, as he was now kneeling beside her.

  “Nothing is bruised or broken. The grass is soft. Stop looking so concerned.” She raised her head and drew his face down to meet hers. Then she opened her mouth and kissed him. He gathered her into his arms, causing her to sit up more and a coin rolled down her décolletage and between her breasts. She chuckled into the kiss.

  “What now?” he grumbled.

  “I believe I now have a sovereign between my breasts.”

  “Lucky sovereign.”

  “I can give it back to you when we undress later.”

  “God’s teeth, Lucy. The sovereign is yours. Keep it. Have it made into a necklace. Keep it in your jewel box. Buy a hat with it. Give it to a beggar. I have more money than I know what to do with. I can afford to lose a few sovereigns.

  “A sovereign would buy shoes for the children,” she objected.

  “I promised if you married me the children—all of them would be cared for. I do not go back on my word.”

  “I did not marry you to have the children taken care of, Robert.”

  “I am aware of that.” He bent his head and pressed her back on the grass, running his tongue along the neckline of her gown.

  “Robert, just kisses. I do not wish to be caught doing… things in the open air. It would be so lowering.”

  “Things, hmm? Oh, I have things for you to do Lucy, but they shall be in private.” He straddled her but bore his weight down on her partially opened legs allowing her to feel the hard bulge pressing against her mound. Lucy gasped. “You are too much temptation, Lucy Beresford, Countess of Whitsnow, Viscountess Sedghill, Baroness Oldsville.”

  “I have three titles?”

  “Yes. Though when we have a son, our son shall take Viscount Sedghill as his courtesy title.”

  “When we have a son? Oh Robert. I should very much like to give you a son.”

  “I think Eleanor would like another brother.”

  “I think with all the boys in the house she would prefer a sister.”

  “We can work on both.”

  “Not at the same time.”

  “No. Twins are dangerous. I should hate you to be in any danger. Mayhap Emily will give her a girl cousin.”

  He kissed her then, slowly and deeply, his tongue exploring. Lucy could not help running her hands under his coat and over his buttock to urge him to rock against her so his hard length would send desire snaking through her. She moaned into the kiss.

  “Robert,” she whispered when he broke the kiss and nibbled on her ear.

  “You are seducing me, wench. Your hands on my backside are driving me to Bedlam.” He ran one hand over her still covered breast, but he found her nipple, even under three layers of clothing. “There shall be hours of daylight left once we have satisfied our need. I promise that if you wish to leave our bed once I have made love to you I shall walk as far as you wish.” He thrust his hips against her and she knew she could deny him no longer.

  “I am tempted to lift my skirts for you in the grass here at the side of the inn, but I already have a reputation.”

  “You do not, Lady Whitsnow. Come, let us retire. I am looking forward to becoming your husband in every sense.”

  Chapter 26

  Lucy sat at the dressing table, a small looking glass propped up as she removed the last of her hair pins. She was sitting in her plain white shift with a pink ribbon tying the neck. Robert had retired to the dressing room to undress after having loosened her stays and once she had removed his boots. They had chosen not to have servants. This was their moment and servants seemed inappropriate in the afternoon.

  But now as she looked at the tangle of red waves, she regretted the decision.

  “May I brush your hair?” Robert was standing in just breeches in the doorway. He looked down. “I thought coming in completely naked was a little umm, presumptuous.”

  “I am your wife.”

  “Well it still seemed as though it may be off-putting or frightening or something.”

  “We have established that I am not a virgin, Robert.” He held his hand out for the brush. “I do however understand what you mean, and I appreciate the gesture, however unnecessary. I would not have swooned at the sight of you with
out clothes.”

  He was brushing through her hair and it was wonderful after the way her maid had set it into a beautiful coiffure this morning, curling and scraping it up her head. She had a pile of pins on the dressing table and her head hurt. But the style had been beautiful for a bride.

  “I considered leaving it up in bed. Bessie did such a beautiful job of my hair this morning. It seems such a shame to waste it.”

  “It was not wasted. You were the prettiest bride I have ever seen but I like running my hands through your hair. It is so silky. Seeing you with your hair down arouses me.”

  “It does?”

  “Mmm.”

  He had brushed through all her hair. Of course, it was not as thorough a brushing as a maid would give it but it would do for now. “That is fine.”

  She turned a quarter turn on the stool, took the brush and laid it on the dressing table then urged him to stand in front of her. Then she started to undo the falls of his breeches.

  “Darling what are you…” She reached in and took his hard length in one hand as she tweaked the rest of the buttons, allowing his breeches to gape and begin a slow descent of his legs. “Really, Lucy you do not have to… uh!” As her lips circled the head of his prick, Robert gave up any protest and simply speared his fingers into Lucy’s hair. “Just for a moment,” he muttered.

  She moved her mouth up and down, taking him as deep as possible. Robert threw his head back and rocked his hips slightly. He tasted salty and a little musky. She enjoyed the noises of pleasure he made, the slight sting in her scalp as he gripped her hair and the knowledge that he wanted to thrust deeper and harder but was holding himself back. No matter how much pleasure he wanted for himself, he cared for her comfort. But she was eager to find out more. What else would he allow her to do? She took the base of his length in her hand and opened her mouth licking the underside of the head, then down the length.

  When she reached the bottom, she lifted the sac there, fingering it and the balls inside. Robert growled. “Lucy.”

  When she licked one and then covered it with her mouth, he held his breath. She swirled her tongue around it, but he did not tell her to stop so she did it to the other one. Robert’s breathing was shallow and almost pained when she licked back up the length of his shaft. His abdominal muscled were rigid.

  “Is this…” she began to ask.

  “Get on the bed.” His voice was brusque and demanding. “Now Lucy.” He stepped back from her, making an almost courtly gesture towards the bed. Lucy hurried over to the large mahogany four-poster bed and climbed on top as Robert removed his breeches and stalked over to her. “Good God, Lucy are we consummating this marriage with you in that shift?”

  Lucy looked at him, naked and thunderous. Oh, she was not having this. She was not going to be some cowering subservient wife. She folded her arm across her chest.

  “We are not consummating our marriage at all until we have talked.”

  “About what? My prick is due to explode. You sucked it and my ballocks like the best London courtesan and now you have become all missish on me. Take that damned thing off.”

  “Is that why you are in such a foul mood suddenly? I behaved like a whore? I was only experimenting. Exploring. I thought…” She turned away from him, tugging at the bedcovers, feeling as if getting underneath them would hide her shame.

  “What? No. I am not in a foul mood. I am… Oh! Oh, devil take it. Lucy.”

  She heard his footsteps as he padded around the bed and then he was face to face with her. She saw his concerned face through her tears.

  “This has been a mistake, has it not?”

  “No, my love. Never a mistake. I am not in a foul mood. I am an earl. I have a staff and servants and I bark orders at people and they obey me. It is worse if I am… well frustrated or excited… or aroused. I should not have been like that with you, but I lost my damned mind. You are a naturally sexual woman. You have an innate ability to please a man. Your explorations were well received. No woman has ever done that to me, but it was wonderful.”

  “If no one has ever done it, mayhap I should not.”

  “You can kiss or suck any part of my body you wish, my love.”

  “The same goes for you. But Robert…”

  “Mmm?”

  “The reason Lord Byron is in Italy now. What he did to his wife. Having sex with her at the back. I don’t think I would like that.”

  “You’ve been thinking about this a lot?” Lucy nodded. “I did say that I have no desire to try it myself. I have not changed my mind. I do however apologise for being an aristocratic idiot. Can you forgive me?”

  She smiled then. “Of course.”

  Suddenly he stood, tugged at the covers, threw them aside and climbed onto the high bed, insinuating himself between her legs.

  He leaned his elbows either side of her and grinned.

  “So, it looks as if we are doing this with the chemise on.” He bent his head and captured her nipple through the cotton garment.

  “Robbie,” she giggled.

  “Mmm!” He was sucking hard and soaking the fabric. It was wonderful.

  “I can take it off.”

  “Take what off,” he asked as he changed breasts.

  “My chemise.” His fingers had moved up her leg and had found her centre. Lucy tugged on the ribbon of her chemise and tried to pull her arms out of the garment. The movement dislodged Robert from her breast.

  “How is a man supposed to seduce his wife if she is squirming and wriggling like this,” he grumbled.

  “I am trying to pull it down, so they are bare for you.”

  “We are going for some waist covering garment now?”

  “Robert, stop being difficult.”

  “I’m being difficult? God’s teeth, woman, lift your arse.” She blinked at him. Arse? She presumed he meant her bottom. She dug her heels into the bed, lifting her behind and he pulled the chemise up to her waist. “Now sit up.” She obeyed, and he tugged the chemise over her head, rolled it into a ball and threw it across the bedchamber. “Damned thing,” he muttered. She lay back and he sat back.

  “Are you in a better mood now?” she asked. He could be quite unpredictable. He sat back on his heels and palmed his hard prick. She liked thinking of it in such vulgar terms in her head. It made her feel warm inside, especially down in the most secret place. He placed his finger on her aforementioned secret place and stroked.

  “You’re wet already. It is as if you are prepared for me.” Lucy bit her lip and looked away a blush warming her cheeks. “Lucy? Why are you embarrassed?”

  She stole a glance at him.

  “All day, since… since the church.”

  “What were you thinking of in the church?”

  “The cave behind the waterfall.” Embarrassment gave way to indignation. “Well, the minister did go on. That was a terribly long sermon. And my mind wandered a little.”

  “And it wandered to me licking you here?” He stroked her, just at the top where she was most sensitive.

  “Oh God, yes.”

  “How very irreligious of you, wife.”

  Her face was on fire now, but Robert was grinning. He bent forward and positioned his cock at her entrance.

  “There will be much slow love making over the evening, wife, but for now, I need to take you hard and fast. You cannot tell a man you were day-dreaming in church of his face pressed against your cunny and not expect him to be on the edge of sanity.”

  His lips met hers as he pressed into her. He met no resistance. She was slick and ready for him. She lifted her feet onto his back and he sank further into her with a grunt of approval.

  She sighed with relief. She needed this. His lips covered hers and she opened her mouth to allow his tongue entrance. He moved his hips, increasing the speed within a few strokes.

  Lucy held onto his shoulders and rocked her hips against him, kissing back until she had to move her mouth away to breath.

  “Robbie!” she gasped.
He felt perfect as he slid in and out of her. She never wanted this feeling to stop. Yet somehow she needed relief from the tension he was building in her. And still she craved more. She thought her mind might explode like a firing pistol with the confusion of sensations.

  “Am I hurting you, love,” he asked, his eyes full of concern.

  “No, it’s wonderful. I need to… I wish… this is too…”

  He chuckled “I agree,” he said as he pushed his hands under her bottom, changing the angle and pushing deeper into her. He peppered kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

  His thrust sped up again. “Robbie I can’t…”

  He lifted his head and kissed her gently on the cheek. “I love that my prick inside you makes you so inarticulate. I love you Lucy Beresford.”

  He uncurled her hands from around his neck and placed them above her head on the pillow. Again this changed the position. She arched her back and he groaned.

  “Oh!” was all Lucy could manage. She was near the edge.

  “Dammit, I shan’t last.” Instinct made her uncurl her legs from his back and dig her heels into the mattress holding her position and allowing him to thrust hard into her. “You may kill me, woman,” Robert muttered as he dropped his head into the crook of her neck and thrust even harder. That was when a wave of pleasure so strong washed through Lucy that she thought she was in danger of swooning. She bucked under Robert and she heard some muttered curses and then the warmth of his seed inside her. Her internal muscles milked his prick as he slowed his thrusts. He collapsed onto his back on the mattress, pulling her against his chest as he did so. His breathing was ragged, and she ran her fingers down his damp chest.

  “I love you too, Robert Beresford.”

  “Don’t you dare tell anyone else I love you. They will think I have become some sort of damned poet.”

  “Like George Byron?”

  He marched his fingers over her hip and onto the cheek of her bottom.

  “Robert, you would not!”