DisobediencebyDesign

by Regina Kammer

  “You cannot possibly mean to escape this ship, my lady. I suggest you give in—”

  “Unhand me, you brute!” She wriggled under him futilely, laughter melting her muscles of their resolve.

  He pressed forward, the head of his cock finding its target. “And now I have my triumph.” He plunged in, full force.

  She sighed, vanquished, relishing her ravishment. The fantasy had heightened her senses and engorged his cock to iron-hard. She came quickly, easily subdued. He thrust fiercely, rutting as a pirate denied lewd pleasure far too long. He emptied himself inside her with a growl then collapsed at her side with a laugh.

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “No fair! You’ll always win these games.”

  He pulled her into his embrace. “Not all games involve strength, my love. I’m sure your womanly wiles can come up with some way to manipulate my senses.”

  “Hmm.” She’d have to give that some thought. She’d have all the time in the world while he was gone. “I’ll miss you.”

  He caressed her arm. “Sophie, while I’m gone, if you need release you should touch yourself. Don’t think you can only do that in my presence.”

  She flushed at the notion of solo pleasure. “I can imagine you’re with me. Having your colonial ways with me.”

  “Oh please do.” He laughed. He pursed his lips in a sober line. “And darling, if you have to, seek solace from Geoffrey.”

  Guilt spiked through her. “Geoffrey? How do you mean?”

  He traced a finger along her jawline. “I mean in his arms, what you used to do.” His finger trailed over her lower lip. “Kissing him.”

  “Joseph—”

  “Shh, shh.” He pressed his finger against her mouth. “You’re a passionate woman, Sophie, and I fear I have riled those passions even further. Too far.” He brushed his lips against hers. “I want you to do whatever it is you need to do to satisfy your lascivious appetite.”

  Returning to Geoffrey’s arms seemed a preposterous notion when she had fantasy and her now-skilled hand. But after a week without Joseph and inflamed by his love letters sent wrapped up in business missives to Arthur, Sophia understood what he had meant.

  Geoffrey was astonished when she first took his hand after Arthur had carelessly left them alone in the library one night. She quickly convinced him.

  “Only kissing,” she assured.

  But it was kissing as they had never done before, he crushing her as she lay on the couch, his hips rolling between her splayed legs, his lips daring to tease a nipple, spiking arousal to her sex. Their embraces left him glazed-eyed and wobbly, stumbling out to his carriage as she fled to her bedroom, dismissing Anna quickly so she could finish by her own hand.

  And when Joseph returned a little over a week later, Sophia told him everything she had done with Geoffrey despite his grins and chuckled protests stating he didn’t need to hear about any of it.

  But there was one secret she guarded closely. She wanted to be absolutely certain before she revealed it.

  Anna knew. Anna had to know. She had said nothing when Sophia missed her courses, calmly watched Sophia vomit in the morning, took the initiative to loosen the lacings of her corsets. But then one day she blurted how she was sure the bath water was far too hot for the baby and perhaps her lady should wait a moment for it to cool. Sophia had cried, letting loose a flood of emotions she had kept bottled up for weeks.

  Anna had promised she would say nothing until Sophia said she was at liberty to do so. And Sophia was about to release Anna from her silence.

  She sighed at the pile of clothes on her bed. “Well, which of my day dresses will fit?”

  “The brown plaid I think. The pattern will distract from your enhanced bosom.”

  Sophia laughed. Anna was the best lady’s maid a woman could have.

  And thirty minutes later the best lady’s maid had worked wonders to her undergarments and her accouterments to make sure no one knew she was pregnant. It was probably the last time they would be able to manage such a deception. And the last time they would have to.

  * * * * *

  Sophia had sent Arthur a message, asking to see him about his entertaining plans for the autumn and requesting his business partner, Mr. Phillips, be present. Of course both would know she had other matters to discuss. But one could not be too careful.

  “Sophia, darling sister.” Arthur kissed her cheeks.

  He led her upstairs to the morning room where Joseph waited by the hearth. He took her hands in greeting. Tea was promptly brought.

  “To what do we owe the honor of your presence?” Arthur poured out three cups.

  She sat demurely at his side and waited until he had put the teapot down.

  “Arthur,” she said in almost a whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

  Arthur’s jaw dropped as he held the milk jug aloft. Joseph rushed to her side, kneeling before her.

  “What do we do now?” she asked.

  “First,” Arthur stammered, “are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.”

  “How do you know?” he insisted.

  She looked at both men. “You really want me to tell you?”

  Joseph took her hand. “I think I have a fair idea but yes. We’ll need to call in a doctor so you’ll have to tell him your symptoms as well. We’ll need proof for anyone who doubts or challenges.”

  Sophia sighed. “I haven’t had my courses for at least two months, I’m terribly fat, I’m nauseated in the morning and when I’m not nauseated I’m famished. I’ve been eating more than usual.”

  Joseph grinned and brushed a finger across her cheek. “You’re not fat, darling.”

  Arthur grabbed pen and paper at his writing desk. “I’ve had Geoff inquire about a discreet doctor. I’ll send him a note to fetch the man as soon as possible.”

  The doctor came that very afternoon.

  Dr. Waddington was a middle-aged, garrulous chap who treated her like a granddaughter and spoke mostly to Arthur, who played the role of the terribly scandalized yet concerned brother. The doctor was indeed discreet, asking no questions about who the father might be, only gathering information about her symptoms, taking notes with the occasional hum and nod. She had to disrobe to her chemise and stockings, although was afforded a screen behind which to do so and a dressing gown to cover the sheer underclothing. He first placed his hands on her stomach, applying pressure here and there, then inserted a thick finger all the way inside her, poking and prodding. Next he inserted an instrument he called “a sort of stethoscope, my dear,” to listen where his finger had just been.

  And when Dr. Waddington decided he had made a thorough examination he had a private talk with Arthur. Soon after, he left.

  Joseph stayed away during the doctor’s visit and didn’t return for a few hours. Sophia waited with Arthur in the library, wanting to be there when he got back.

  “So?” Joseph asked, practically bursting through the library door.

  “It’s official. I am with child, Mr. Phillips.”

  He pulled her up and out of her chair and swung her about amidst her giggles and Arthur’s protests.

  “And we want her to stay with child, my good man. Put her down.”

  Joseph nuzzled her neck, humming his happiness.

  “When do we tell Mama and Papa?” she asked over Joseph’s distractions.

  Arthur paced before the hearth. “When the time is right.”

  “Well, dear brother, it better be soon. I won’t be able to hide my condition very much longer.”

  “Sophie, the last ball of the Season is tomorrow night. Countess Authorpe’s. Can you get through that?” Arthur’s brow furrowed.

  “Yes. I do expect both of you to be there to support me.”

  “Of course.” He grinned and came to her, extricating her from Joseph’s arms to embrace her. “Oh Sophie! I’m going to be an uncle.”

  Sophia pulled back to wipe the tear that trailed down Arthur’s cheek. “You’ll be the best uncle.”


  “I’ll tell Mother and Father next week.” He sniffled. “Let’s get through Saturday night as if nothing has changed first.”

  Sophia hugged him with a melancholy sigh. Everything had changed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Arthur waited until Tuesday, or rather his parents invited him to luncheon on Tuesday, and he decided that would be the best time as any to deliver the news.

  “Arthur.” Mother greeted him in the foyer. “So glad you could join us. We have an exciting announcement!”

  Arthur pecked her cheeks. “An announcement, Mother?” Surely not as exciting as his.

  She wrapped her arm around his. “Come into the morning room, dear.”

  As they entered Father remained standing at the window, staring out, his countenance slack.

  “Harold.”

  He turned to greet them. “Arthur, son, good to see you.”

  “Likewise, Father.” Arthur sat on one end of the couch opposite Mother.

  Father paced before the fireplace. “Son, how has Sophia been handling your affairs this Season, hmm? She’s been a good hostess, no?”

  “Absolutely. The very best.”

  “Good good. Parliament has been dragging on a bit late this year, otherwise we’d be home. We intend to leave as soon as it closes. Do you think you’ll be needing Sophia much after August?”

  “If you mean you wish her to return home to Lincolnshire, Father, by all means. I can handle my affairs here in London myself.”

  Father cleared his throat. “Yes, we will want her to return to Harwell Hall—”

  Mother let out a clipped squeal then promptly covered her mouth with her hands.

  “We’ll be holding a ball in her honor in September.”

  Arthur did not like where this was going. “Oh?”

  “Just tell him, Harold.” Mother was far too excited.

  “Yes, Matilda. Arthur, we will be announcing your sister’s engagement at our annual hunting ball.”

  A chill ripped through him. “Engagement? To whom?”

  “The Duke of Royston, my dear,” Mother answered cheerfully. “Who else?”

  Shit. Now appeared to be the right time for his announcement. “No. Sophia cannot marry the duke.”

  “Why ever not, dear?” Mother queried.

  “Son, I know you’ve had some personal antagonism with Royston in the past but you must put that behind you. He is to be your brother-in-law.”

  “No, Father, it is not my antagonism that leads me to object.” It most certainly was… “But rather some news I’ve just learned.”

  Mother paled. “News? What news?”

  He better just come out with it. “Sophia is with child.”

  Mother yelped.

  “What did you just say?”

  “Sophia is with child, Father.”

  “Good Christ above!” he bellowed, throwing his hands in the air. “This,” he said, stabbing a finger in Arthur’s direction, “this is what happens when I let an innocent girl be watched by her licentious brother. You could barely keep your hands off Henrietta.”

  “Harold—”

  Father stretched out a silencing hand in Mother’s direction. “And who, pray tell, is the rogue who got Sophia this way? Don’t tell me it’s that Peel fellow.”

  Arthur drew in a fortifying breath. His parents would prefer it to be Geoffrey once they heard the truth. “Joseph Phillips.”

  Mother gasped.

  “The American?”

  “Yes, the American. My business partner. They are very much in love and wish to be married.”

  “I cannot allow that, Arthur.”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Yes?” Father called out, not taking his eyes off Arthur.

  “My lord, His Grace is here for luncheon.”

  “Send him in.”

  Arthur felt the blood drain from his face.

  Royston looked chipper but scowled when he saw the dour expressions. “I fear I have just interrupted a family discussion.”

  “Oh but Your Grace,” said Mother, getting up to greet him, “you are to be part of our family.”

  “Yes, Your Grace, you will be welcomed into this family,” affirmed Father.

  “Thank you.” Royston bowed then caught Arthur’s eye at a most inopportune time. “Ah, I see not all members of the family are as welcoming as you.”

  “Your Grace,” began Father, “Arthur has just delivered the most shocking news. Sophia is enceinte, done in by the American chap.”

  Royston’s eyes narrowed accusingly at Arthur. “She’s been spending quite a bit of time at your house, has she not? Did you not see fit to safeguard her from such abuse?”

  Arthur controlled his rage. “Joseph Phillips is not the man from whom she needs safeguarding. In fact it was he who saved her from your continued cruelty.” Arthur turned to Mother. “You will recall, Mother, how Sophia was covered in bruises after spending time with the duke?”

  She swallowed a sob.

  “Arthur, it was all a misunderstanding,” said Father. “His Grace has assured us he had not meant to harm her.” He turned to the duke. “Given the circumstances, how do you wish to proceed? We can hasten the marriage so she will not show as much during the ceremony. Or we can delay the event until next spring.”

  Royston sat next to Mother, who cried silently.

  “There are ways of getting rid of the child,” he said casually as he fished through his pockets for his handkerchief.

  “Such as pushing a woman down the stairs?” Arthur said through his teeth.

  “Arthur!” Mother scolded. She took the handkerchief from Royston with a brief smile.

  His parents had no idea who the villain was in Henny’s death. There was no use in telling them. Royston would simply deny that as well.

  Royston made no overt reaction. “That is a method, yes. A little barbaric. I want Sophia to survive the ordeal. I was thinking about a surgical procedure.”

  “I don’t follow, Your Grace,” said Father stupidly.

  “The child can be removed from her body via an abortion.”

  “Why, that’s murder!” yelped Mother.

  “It’s not murder when the child is redundant.”

  “What?” cried Arthur. “Need I remind you, Your Grace, you are talking to my mother about her grandchild!”

  “I will not raise the bastard child of a colonial miscreant as my heir. The child needs to be eliminated.”

  “Gentlemen, let’s discuss this civilly,” Father said feebly.

  “I cannot discuss the murder of my sister’s child civilly, Father. It is too upsetting. I give my regrets to your staff for luncheon. I simply cannot stay and talk to a man who takes the life of a child so cavalierly.”

  Royston cleared his throat. “Where is Lady Sophia anyway? I wish to give my fiancée a congratulatory kiss.”

  Arthur cringed inside. “She’s with my cook discussing a dinner I’m having tomorrow night.” She really wasn’t. She was with Anna at the seamstress’ getting some dresses altered but he was not going to tell anyone that. He knew where the seamstress’ was—his mother most likely did as well. He was not going to have Royston send a man around to fetch her and do God knows what with her.

  “Ah well, when you see her give her my deepest regards.” What would have been simply sweet coming from any other man sounded filthy and lewd from Royston’s mouth.

  Arthur left, a prayer of thanks running through his head that he chose to travel to his parents’ by coach and not brougham—the latter would have been far too small for three…four really with Sophia’s condition. He snorted, astounded. Redundant. Royston had actually used the word “redundant”. He sickened at the thought.

  He made sure his carriage went in the expected direction of his house, only turning for the seamstress’ after ensuring he was completely out of sight. As he pulled up to the shop one word echoed in his head.

  Lamberton.

  * * * * *

 
Sophia loved how the seamstress Mrs. Haigh thought to simply add a frill or two to her dresses as she let them out. No use in having a whole new wardrobe. Joseph would praise her for economizing.

  “And I think the green velvet would look lovely with the plaid for autumn,” Sophia said cheerfully.

  “And send the bill to me.”

  She turned at the sound of her brother’s voice, her face stretching into a big smile at the sight of him. “Arthur! What a lovely surprise.”

  He kissed her cheek. “I need you to come home with me at once,” he whispered in her ear.

  She tried not to look worried. “Is the order complete, Mrs. Haigh?”

  “Yes, my lady,” the seamstress replied.

  “And please do charge it to my brother.” Sophia wrote quickly on a scrap of paper. “Here is the address. Anna,” she called out to her maid, “we must leave.”

  Arthur took her arm as they exited. “How did you get here?”

  “We took a cab.”

  “Good. We’ll take my coach.”

  He was sullen on the drive to his house, barely saying a word. “Not until we are home and Joseph is present. If he’s at my club, I’ll send a note to have him join us.”

  But Joseph hadn’t left for the club.

  Arthur shuffled them all into the library, even Anna, requesting everyone take a seat.

  He sat then stood then sat again, his elbows on his knees. He drew in a long breath. “Sophie, you are to be engaged to the Duke of Royston. The announcement will be made at the annual Richmond hunting ball. I tried to stop them but all I managed to do was let them know of your condition. Mother and Father and Royston all know you are pregnant with Joseph’s child.” He looked her in the eye. “Royston wants you to have an abortion.”

  Sophia wavered, suddenly lightheaded. Joseph held her steady with an arm around her shoulder.

  “No,” she managed.