HOLY POISON: Boxed Set: The Complete Series 1-6

by Margaret Brazear

  Once dressed, the maidservant, whose name was Nancy, held the mirror up so that her mistress could see her reflection, see how well she looked in the outfit of a countess. Unlike her sister, her hair was dark, almost as dark as Richard’s and her complexion was pale. The gown the maid had chosen was of burgundy velvet and the colours contrasted well with her own. The shift was silk and the bodice of heavy brocade, embroidered with gold thread which laced up at the front.

  Bethany wanted to ask who the garment belonged to. What was the Earl doing with a chest full of ladies’ clothes? Did he have so many mistresses whom he needed to redress on a regular basis? He had said he had mistresses. She felt a little dart of jealousy when she thought about those mistresses and she wondered why. He was nothing to her, was he?

  Nancy showed the new Lady Summerville the way to the banqueting hall where more food was laid out and where a young man sat at the table, drinking ale. He stood up quickly when she entered and she saw that he was tall, almost as tall as Richard, and that he had reddish blonde hair which shone in the sunlight. He was about sixteen years of age and she wondered who he was. He stepped forward to take her hand and kiss it.

  “I am Anthony Summerville,” he introduced himself. “Richard’s cousin.”

  “Forgive me,” she said. “I did not expect to find anyone here. Did you not attend the marriage celebrations at my father’s house yesterday?”

  “No,” he replied. “I attended the other service, although you would not have seen me. Richard asked me to stay out of sight; he thought you would be more comfortable without an audience.”

  She said nothing, only blushed as she sat down, her heart beginning to pound once more as his words reminded her of the previous night. She had not seen him, no, but it was not because he was hiding behind a pillar. More because she was in a daze and had seen nothing in her haste for it to all be over and done with.

  What in God’s name had she done?

  ***

  Richard was unused to having to soothe a woman’s tears. Most of the females of his acquaintance were accomplished in the art of seduction and would not dream of weeping before a man unless it was part of a ruse to earn his sympathy.

  He had not intended to bed his bride that night; it was late and she was distressed about the Latin mass in which he had forced her to participate. He wanted her to be relaxed and willing before he attempted to consummate the marriage, but as he held her in his arms, felt her warmth close to him, felt her soft breast through the thin silk fabric of her shift, he had been tempted to change his mind. Her weeping had stopped him; as she lie beside him her tears soaked his shirt, the damp seeping through to his breast and her weeping had brought back bitter memories he would rather forget.

  He rose early and went to find her a pony from the stables, remembering her fear of riding. She would have to get over that if she were to live here, as he enjoyed riding over his estate and checking on his tenants, making sure the village buildings were habitable, and he rather hoped for her company in that pursuit.

  He found an ideal little mare which he kept for his visiting mistresses to ride, and led her to the rail in the stable yard, where he began to tack her up. A little smile crept over his lips; he was looking forward to showing her off to his underlings.

  ***

  After breakfast, Nancy took her outside to the stables where her new husband waited with a quiet little mare for her to ride.

  “I trust you slept well,” he said with a smile.

  “I did, My Lord, thank you.”

  “This little mare is very gentle, just what you need to begin your riding career. I thought we would go and visit the tenants first.” He helped her up into the saddle as he spoke. “Then we can ride about the place, so you can get your bearings. There is rather a lot of it.”

  Bethany’s heart sank. When her father or brother appeared at the homes of their tenants, on their lands, the people would almost visibly cringe and be more concerned with what he may find to complain about than anything else. He always found something, something which would worry them into thinking they might end the day as a vagabond on the road. He said it kept them in their place, let them know what they owed to him. She did not wish to spend this day making people miserable, but she saw no way out.

  Her surprise was evident when they approached a row of cottages to hear an excited voice from within: “Come, quickly! ‘Tis His Lordship come to show us his new bride!”

  And those words caused every cottage to open its doors and bring forth each family to come and meet His Lordship’s new wife, who was astonished. They treated him like an old friend, someone they were delighted to see and as soon as he dismounted they shook his hand and wished him well. Some of the older women even hugged him, kissed his cheek as they held their arms around his waist.

  He turned back to help her down, while the women curtsied and gave her their good wishes. It was a very heart warming scene and not one she had been expecting. Even more surprising was that Richard seemed to be enjoying this attention, hugging the women in return and laughing.

  She remarked on this as they rode back toward the house, her on her very slow and tame little chestnut mare, he on his tall, black stallion.

  “I depend on them to keep me wealthy,” he said with a laugh. “And they depend on me for their livelihood and their wellbeing. The mistake made by many men in my position is to demand the respect of his underlings without respecting them in return.” He paused and looked at her, smiling at the surprised look she wore. “I am no better than them, Bethany, merely more fortunate and that is an accident of birth, not something for which I can claim credit.”

  She could see there were workmen building more chimneys for more people. They were all so pleased to see them, all left their work to come outside and greet them, to hold the hand of the new Countess and to curtsey to her. They were all so happy for this marriage, all full of good wishes for His Lordship’s future happiness.

  They all loved him, that was clear, and each and every one wore a genuine smile when he appeared. There was but one man who looked surly, despite bowing and mumbling good wishes. He alone, she did not think had really meant it.

  “He was not born here like the rest of them,” Richard replied when she asked about him. “He came here to marry Connie when her father died. It was what she wanted at the time; she imagined herself in love with him. She knew she had no need to marry, I would have found her something useful to do, but she begged a place for him and so I gave in.

  “You remember I told you only the lower classes can marry for love? Well, perhaps it is not such a blessing after all.”

  He stopped speaking abruptly and it seemed he would not go on, but she prompted him to finish.

  “He beats her,” he said at last, with a note of shame, as though the blame for that were his. “I do not like it.” He paused for a moment and she could almost see him gathering strength to go on. “Still she defends him, or it would not be tolerated. Every one of these people needs my permission to do anything, to marry, to find work elsewhere, whatever it is, they must by law ask me first. Yet that same law forbids me to interfere between a husband and wife. What does it make me if I allow it to continue?”

  She knew what she was going to say and wondered if she should, on this occasion, hold her tongue. But it had to be said; she could not help it. The need to voice her opinion was overpowering.

  “You have broken laws before this, My Lord,” she remarked, thinking of his adherence to the Catholic faith.

  She was afraid of his reaction, but he only smiled. When he turned away it was to continue to tell her about his position in the couple’s lives.

  “He resents my interference. He tries to hide it, but is no better at pretence than you are.”

  His words startled her. No, she was not good at pretence, was altogether too outspoken for her own good, but she had not realised he had noticed it. He was a very observant and perceptive man, traits which she could not help but admire.


  She watched his clenched jaw and his angry expression as he spoke of it, and she realised all at once how fortunate she was, that he would never hurt her like that, no matter what the law allowed. She reached across from her mare to touch his hand and was rewarded by a quick smile.

  “He has been warned, by me personally, that it will not be tolerated.”

  “If he has committed no crime, what can you do?” She asked. “Should you turn him out, he will take his wife with him.”

  He turned to her and smiled a slow smile, but did not answer her question.

  “No matter,” he said at last. “Let us talk of happier things.”

  Then he rode away, but turned in his saddle to wait for her after a short distance. She could only guess at what he had meant by that smile.

  ***

  Bethany was beginning to feel relaxed in Richard’s presence, something she had not felt before. Despite his assurances that he wanted a companion as well as a wife, he was still a stranger to her and she was unsure about his reaction to her questions.

  She had been raised on tales of how evil the papists were, how they would murder everybody who did not agree with them, she rather expected them to be angry and fierce. Richard was the first one she had ever met, and his demeanour since she met him had proved her wrong. He had been all friendliness all day so she felt comfortable in asking about the venue for the Latin ceremony.

  “It is a small church in the forest,” he replied, pointing toward the thick trees. “As far as anyone outside is concerned it is disused now, has been since the old King died, but it is still accessible from the house via the underground passage. Would you care to see it from the outside?”

  Would she? She was unsure. She certainly did not want to see anything which would remind her of the previous night’s work, but she was intrigued to know how a whole building could stay hidden.

  “I would, My Lord,” she replied at last.

  “On one condition. You stop calling me ‘My Lord’. I am not your lord, I am your husband.”

  “All right, husband,” she replied mischievously. “Take me to the forest.”

  “Now that is an invitation I cannot refuse.”

  Once among the trees they dismounted and tied the horses to a convenient branch. The church was deep inside the forest where it could not be seen from outside and the trees here had been allowed to grow up tall and thick, in order to conceal it. Beside the church was a small cottage which looked as though it had also been disused for many years.

  “Let us rest here awhile,” he said as he sat down beside a huge oak tree.

  He held up his hand and she took it. His grip was firm and warm, and she found it very inviting. He pulled her down to sit beside him, then leaned against the tree and took her in his arms. It was comforting, being close to him, just feeling his arm around her. But she hardly knew him and such intimacy felt wrong. It was an odd tradition that a lady would spend her unmarried life being chaperoned, never being allowed to be alone with or come into close contact with any man who was not her father or brother, then she was expected to freely surrender her most secret places to a stranger.

  “It is beautiful here,” she remarked. “You are very lucky to have so much.”

  “It has been in my family for generations. I do love the place; I will do almost anything to keep it.”

  “That is why you keep your beliefs a secret? Because you will not risk losing Summerville?”

  “Of course. Would you not do the same?”

  “Probably. God knows what is in our hearts, does He not?”

  She could only hope she was right, and that He understood and did not blame her.

  Richard made no reply, just tilted her face up and his lips came down on hers, kissing her hungrily, kissing her until she longed for more. She had never imagined there could be so much to a kiss, a kiss that sent shivers down her spine. Is this it? She thought nervously. Is it to be here in the open? She closed her eyes as he kissed her again and began to unlace the front of her bodice, slipped his hand inside to caress her breast, then kissed her again when she gasped with pleasure.

  She felt his fingers at her waist, untying the fastenings of her petticoats, felt his hand guiding her shift upwards, the warmth of his fingers caressing her thighs. He bent to kiss her breasts and she felt those fingers brushing over her stomach, massaging her private places while she gasped and panted heavily.

  Her fingers slipped into his shirt, flirted with the hair on his broad chest. She sensed him untying his breeches then he pushed her down onto the grass and gently parted her legs.

  “I will not hurt you,” he said softly, as though he had read her thoughts. “I promise.”

  She had no idea if she had intended her earlier words to be an invitation or not, but the long grass was soft and appealing and his kisses awakened feelings in her she could not know existed. When at last she felt him inside her, she knew a contentment so satisfying she could have cried with joy.

  He wrapped his cloak around them both and she snuggled against him for warmth. She had not expected her marriage to be consummated in a forest clearing. She felt they had done something immoral and sinful, and perhaps they had. The church dictated the proper procedure for the consummation, as it dictated everything else, and this was most certainly not it.

  His heart was hammering against her cheek and she felt him sigh contentedly.

  “Why did you not do that last night?” She asked him.

  “While you were crying you mean?”

  “Forgive me for that, it was just...”

  “I know what it was,” he interrupted. “But we were both exhausted and I cannot make love to a woman who is crying, no matter what her reasons.” He hugged her against him. “Besides, I have never thought it right to expect an untouched virgin to give up that jewel to a stranger. And I was a stranger, husband or no. Are you not glad we waited?”

  She would never have expected a man to show such consideration, to have such perception of the feelings and fears of a woman. But his words made her feel tender toward him and she snuggled up against him.

  “Your cousin,” she said after a while. “He lives here with you?”

  He turned to her and smiled gently.

  “He lives here with us,” he replied, with emphasis on the last word. “He is an orphan, the only son of my father’s brother. My uncle and his wife died of plague some years ago when Anthony was but twelve years old. I have more or less raised him since then. He is my heir until the Lord blesses us, which He cannot do without more help from us. An early night is called for, I think.”

  His tone was playful, as it had been all day, and she suspected then that she had already fallen in love with him, although she tried to deny it to herself. That had not been part of the bargain, it had not been what either of them wanted. She wanted to stay aloof, to let him enjoy his mistresses and anything else he wanted, while she would not care. She could see now that was not going to happen and she wondered how much hurt she would suffer when he went off to be with one of them. Or perhaps he would bring her back to the house, bed her right here almost in his wife’s presence.

  She pushed away the unwelcome idea, wishing she had never thought of it.

  After supper they retired to their bedchamber, where he once again dismissed the servants and undressed her himself, arousing passion with every garment he allowed to drop to the floor. Her mother told her that a wife must always be waiting in the bed, ready for her husband to come and take her or not, as the mood took him. Anything else was too forward.

  “Have you enjoyed your day, My Lady?” He asked mischievously as he sat beside her on the bed. “Was it worth the sacrifice?”

  She could not answer that, not honestly, so she decided a flippant response was in order.

  “I have not had access to your wealth as of yet, My Lord,” she replied. “So I will have to delay judgement. The dressmaker tells me my new gowns will be ready in a week or two, the jewels which you gave me are fab
ulous. I have little of which to complain so far.”

  He laughed, which brought a sense of relief. His arm went around her just as it had the night before, but this time she was not crying, this time she was able to look up at his handsome face and tremor from the thrill of his touch.

  Then he bent his head to hers and kissed her, holding her close against his bare chest so she could scarcely breathe. She found herself responding, found herself actually wanting him, wanting his touch on her body.

  ***

  Spring was amazing at Summerville Hall. The fruit trees began to blossom, covering the landscape with beautiful colours and the leaves turned the horizon to green. She was not used to being in the countryside for this season; her father opened his country house later in the year. Here the air was fresh with cut grass and sweet scented flowers, not smells of human waste from the city.

  There was just one thing clouding Bethany’s horizon, that she was expected to join Richard while he attended mass at least once a day in the small, secret church. She had not been thinking when she accepted this, when she told herself she would be required to do nothing but pay lip service. She had been dazzled by the riches which were on offer; she did not understand how hard it would be to stand in that church with all its idols, to listen to the Latin chanting and she was terrified they would be discovered, that someone would find out and they would lose everything, possibly even their lives. Richard insisted all his people were loyal to him, but she would not have trusted anyone that much.

  It was with a jolt that she realised she was afraid for him, for what would become of him, not for what would become of his lands and wealth. She was surprised that she cared that much, that already she would be lost without him. But that was not part of the agreement and he must never know. She would put her emotions into a little box and lock it up tight, never let him feel obliged to change any part of their bargain.