Virtue and Vice

by Kimberly Brody

  Rising up on his elbow in order to better study her, his eyes traced the perfect profile presented to him as she reposed on her side, her back towards him. Her lips, usually ready with a sarcastic retort, were relaxed in sleep. Her delicate lashes rested upon her cheek like the finest silk. She looked peaceful.

  The lure of her heat and beauty was too much to resist. Inching closer, he curved his body around hers, moving slowly so as not to awaken her. She was all warmth and softness in his arms. Rubbing his nose gently against a strand of hair that lay over her shoulder, he reveled in the unique smell that was her.

  Her body seemed to relax back against his. What would happen if he stroked her, touched her, and caressed all the spots she found so irresistible?

  With light strokes, he slid his fingertips up her arm. Rewarded with a sleepy little murmur that traveled a direct path to his loins, he snuggled closer, his rapidly thickening cock settling between the cleft of her buttocks.

  His hand crept over her arm to cup the perfect globe of one breast. Her nipples, relaxed in sleep, came to attention under the manipulation of his fingers. Her body bucked against his and she stiffened, most assuredly awake in that instant.

  Even as she remained tense, she didn’t protest his caresses as he continued to stroke her, and then finally, she relaxed, giving tacit approval to his actions. His lips sought the sensitive skin of her neck as his fingers moved to lavish equal attention on her other breast. She moaned and in that throaty sound he knew his battle was won.

  Pure heat jolted through his body at the sound. Sliding his hands slowly down her flat belly, his fingers sought the jewel nestled in the springy curls between her thighs. She was wet to the touch and his cock bucked against her as his fingers rubbed in light circles, alternating pressure on the sensitive bud hidden between her folds.

  She made incoherent little sounds as she writhed against him, bucking her hips in need, more than ready and already driving him half-wild. He slid one hand under her neck to pillow her head. His other hand ran over her thigh and down her calf, then lifted her leg and levered it back, so it hung over his hip. His nostrils flared as he inhaled her unique, musky scent.

  Shifting, he guided his shaft into her welcoming heat from behind. The pleasure as her tight sheath stretched around him as he slowly entered her almost cost him his composure, but holding tight to his control, he recovered.

  She gasped, a sound filled with both surprise and delight, and it was all the urging he needed. He began to move, thrusting slow and hard, then drawing out of her body, only to plunge back in to the hilt. His fingers toyed with her from the front, where he had complete access to every enticing inch of her.

  In a matter of moments, she was writhing and moaning in abandon, her fingers grasping handfuls of the coverlet as he continued his slow thrusts without mercy. She ground her backside against him each time he sheathed himself.

  Her breathing increased; small whimpers escaped her lips with every movement, which fired his passion to previously unknown heights. He pounded against her, pleased beyond belief when she pressed back against him, circling her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust.

  Heat coiled in his balls; he was close to spilling. He sped his motion, manipulating her with his fingers at the same time. He sucked the sensitive lobe of her ear into his mouth and bit gently.

  He pressed his mouth against her ear. “Come for me, Izzy.” he urged in a hoarse voice.

  Her entire body went rigid with tension and she cried out as her climax took her.

  “Ah, God, Izzy!” he gasped. “You feel so damned good.” He rocked his hips, thrusting deep into her sheath, made wetter from her release. His control frayed and he followed her into bliss, exploding inside her, hearing his own ragged cry as he reached exquisite release.

  Replete and contented, he lowered her leg to the bed, then drew her close, wrapping her in his embrace. He relished the feeling of Izzy warm and languid in his arms. He nuzzled her neck, rewarded when she twisted her head to press a soft kiss to his lips.

  Not until she turned away did he allow a satisfied grin to pull at his lips.

  Oh yes. The first assault on her senses had begun, and he intended it to be the start of a long, drawn out, campaign.

  Pressed against her beguiling warmth, her head tucked beneath his chin, he fell into a slumber more peaceful than he’d ever known.

  ***

  Izzy lay awake, suffering the same doubts of the night before. There was no denying the pull Ram had on her body, but she didn’t blame him for her plight. She cursed her own treacherous body, which even now yearned for him all over again.

  She stifled her tears, knowing they were only evidence of self-pity. Who was she to cry over her fate? God had seen fit to send her a man who worshipped her body with his, and, if she were to be completely honest with herself, treated her well. What right did she have to cry because the one man she loved was lost to her, when her lot in life was not so bleak? Many women in her position did not fare as well.

  But some of her tears were for Paul, who must feel betrayed and devastated over losing her. He’d gone off to fight a noble cause, expecting to find her waiting when he returned, and here she was, wantonly making love to another man mere hours after seeing him again for the first time in years. How that would hurt him if he knew. Though she no longer feared that life with Ram would be terrible, she still loved another man. If there was any chance her marriage could be undone, she must take it, for the sake of everyone involved. Ram might not think so now, but eventually he’d come to resent her feelings for Paul, and she’d come to resent him for keeping her from the man she loved. If there was no way to untangle what had been done, so be it, but she at least had to try, to know for sure, or she’d never be able to live with herself.

  She lay awake, staring at the ceiling until Ram stirred again beside her. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck, sending shivers ricocheting through her body. She sat quickly, pulling the sheet to her neck, lest he have making love again in mind.

  He smiled. “Shall we return to the townhouse today?”

  “Nay, Ram. I wish to remain here, at Court. I still haven’t had my audience with the King.”

  In the span of a single instant, his eyes turned frosty. “Why do you still seek an audience?”

  She sighed, trying not to take her frustration out on him. “My feelings haven’t changed. I’d still like to explore the possibility of an annulment.”

  Ram sat straight up against the headboard. “After last night, and this morn, you still intend to pursue this nonsensical idea?”

  “It’s not nonsensical, Ram. I’m in love with Paul.”

  “God Dammit!” He tore from the bed, and faced her, arms crossed over his chest, oblivious to his nudity. “That’s the last time you’ll bring that man’s name into our bedchamber, do you understand? I will not have that peacock tainting the sanctity of our marriage bed.”

  “Would you prefer I lie? Do you want me to pretend I’ve no feelings for him? I gave him my word that I would wait for him, and here I am, married, as if I were some fickle woman who gave no thought to a vow I made and couldn’t wait until he’d gone to find myself another man to take his place.”

  He raked his hand through his hair. “What do you think he did while he was gone? Do you truly believe him faithful to you these last three years?”

  She opened her mouth to respond, then paused. She’d never thought about it. If Paul loved her as he’d claimed, surely he wouldn’t have taken other women to his bed. Would he? Despite her relative innocence, she’d spent enough time with courtiers of both sexes from many countries, and knew that the quest to seduce and bed one another was a favorite past time amongst the court players. A man would have to either be church minded or truly devoted to another to live celibate for years. She clutched the blanket tighter against her chest. She’d be damned if she’d let Ram see the accusation rattled her.

  “He loved me. He asked me to wait for him.”

>   Ram snorted. “The man loves no one more than himself. He may have truly expected you to wait, but I can guarantee he didn’t abstain on your behalf.”

  Grabbing the sheet, she flung herself from the bed, staring across the length of it at her husband. “Do not talk about him like that.”

  “Isabelle. You are my wife. You belong to me! How do you think it makes me feel to hear you wake up with that man’s name on your lips and go to sleep thinking of him?”

  “You knew! I warned you, I warned my father. I love Paul. Do you honestly think a few pleasurable nights in your bed would change that? Is that the kind of woman you think me to be?”

  “I thought you to be a woman of honor, who would respect the sanctimony of marriage. It seems I was very mistaken.”

  With angry, jerky movements, he pulled on the clothes he’d worn the night before and then turned to face her, the muscle in his jaw clenched tight.

  “This is the last evening, Isabelle. Tonight, we return to our own home, and you’ll put Paul Huntley behind you.”

  “That’s not fair! You said I could remain here if I shared your bed as a wife in truth!”

  “Never did I say for how many days that would be. I suggest you make the most of your time with the court this evening, for you’ll not be returning here for some time.” He strode toward the door.

  “I hate you!” She screamed at his back. He flinched, but didn’t stop until he’d exited the chamber and slammed the door behind him.

  Izzy spent the morning lying in bed, trying to figure out what her next action would be, all the while hoping Ram would return so she could apologize for her harsh words. He didn’t deserve them. She tried to put herself in his shoes and imagine how it would feel to have one’s spouse constantly declaring one’s love for another.

  But that still didn’t change her feelings for Paul. She was trapped. She could never use the knowledge of what Ram had done during the interregnum against him by threatening to tell his father. First, she respected the risks he’d taken immensely. Second, knowing what it was like to be at odds with her own father, she couldn’t cause him the same pain.

  Paul. Surely, he would know what to do! She would speak to him and perhaps he’d devise a better solution for the problem. He was far worldlier than she, he must know of some way she could achieve her ends without betraying Ram.

  She always felt bolder with a firm plan in place, and now was no exception. With a firm goal in mind, she set to getting dressed. With no choice but to put on the gown she’d worn the evening before, she donned it as quickly as possible. Braiding her hair into two sections, she piled them on her head, using the discarded pins from last evening to hold them in place. Then, taking a deep breath, she left the chamber in search of Paul. Hopefully she wouldn’t cross paths with Ram on the way.

  Making her way to the large hall where hundreds of courtiers took their meals, she breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t spot her husband.

  She did immediately spy her quarry, seated between two beautiful women, both of whom leaned in close, far closer than necessary, hanging on every word he said. She smiled sadly. Once, she’d have been at his side just like those women. But she’d always known someday Paul would be hers, while those women did not.

  Ram’s words reverberated in her head, and her smile turned to a frown. Had Paul remained faithful all these years, or did he have women hanging on him every place he went? And did he seduce those women or let himself be seduced by them?

  She shook the thought from her mind. It didn’t matter now, for she could hardly claim to have been faithful to him. She approached on quiet feet and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Izzy!” Paul’s face lit when he recognized her and his blue eyes danced merrily. “Come and sit down. Join us.”

  Both women shot her looks brimming with venom. Best not stay and antagonize them. She needed no enemies at court, not when dealing with Ram was difficult enough.

  “I must speak with you, Paul. Will you spare a moment?”

  He placed his hand across his heart. “For you, Izzy, I can spare anything.”

  He bowed to his dining companions and excused himself, rising from his seat at the trestle table. She walked at his side in silence, until they found themselves outside in the privy gardens. When she was certain they were alone, she turned to him.

  “Why the sad face, Izzy?”

  “Oh, Paul, you’ve always known me so well.”

  He chucked her under the chin. “Whatever it is can’t be so terrible as all that.”

  She paused. He certainly didn’t look like a man wracked by devastation. In fact, he appeared as he always had; charming and flirtatious, without a care in the world. Shouldn’t he be more upset about her marriage? What if Ram was right and there was no reason for him to be devastated because he didn’t love her anymore? Damn Ram for putting these doubts in her mind!

  Suddenly uncertain about her course of action, she blurted out the words anyway “I need to discuss my marriage with you.”

  “Aye, I nearly forgot. Congratulations are in order. When did the happy event occur?”

  “Less than a fortnight ago. And I assure you, it was hardly a happy event.”

  “An arranged marriage then?” His gaze grew speculative. Would it please him to know she’d fought tooth and nail to avoid it? Would it make it a less bitter pill to swallow that she’d not gone blithely to another man’s bed?

  “Aye. Papa needed money. And Viscount Royston’s family is incredibly wealthy.”

  “Can’t say I’m surprised. Half the nobles in this country are desperate for funds. I can’t blame your father for his decision to marry you to a parliamentarian, either.” They continued to stroll through the gardens in silence. “I’m sure he squeezed quite a few concessions from Chesworth for the honor of your hand.”

  But do you blame me? “Paul, I want you to know I did everything I could think of to avoid the marriage. I- I didn’t want this, not at all.”

  “Of course you didn’t, Izzy. It’s certainly no fault of yours. You are a mere pawn in a game much larger than yourself.”

  Relief swamped her. “Then you will help me?”

  He started, his countenance suddenly one of confusion. “Help you do what? How can I help? Has he mistreated you?”

  She thought of her wedding night, but she could never tell Paul about that. It would only enrage him. And certain things were never meant to leave the bedchamber.

  “I’ve come to London to determine if there is any possible way to obtain an annulment with the help of anyone, even the King if need be.”

  “That’s audacious of you. And your husband has allowed this? Is he insane?”

  Insane? Shouldn’t Paul be delighted if Ram was actually in favor of a separation? “Of course not!” She snapped. “I came here without his knowledge.”

  “You’ve not changed at all.” His words were spoken ruefully, and yet Izzy was sure she heard an undertone of disapproval, too. Suddenly she was lost, cast adrift in a harbor where once she’d felt only safe and secure.

  “Have you considered the stigma a divorce would cause to you and your family? And have you any grounds upon which an annulment might stand?” He peered closely at her and heat rose in her face.

  “Nay.”

  Paul laughed. “Well, at least the man can do something right.”

  Izzy bristled at his mockery of Ram, but she counted to ten and willed herself to remain calm. Paul was the only man who might help her. She needed him to guide her in this.

  “Our wedding night doesn’t matter—” Paul shook his head but she rushed on. “It doesn’t, because I’ve come into the discovery of very sensitive information which may be useful in convincing my husband that an annulment would be in our best interest. ‘Tis only that I don’t know what to do with the knowledge, how to use it.”

  That instantly piqued his interest. “What do you know?”

  “I know that though his father, Chesworth, was a staunch supporter
of Cromwell, Ram himself worked for the King.”

  “And his father doesn’t know this?”

  She shook her head.

  “Blackmail, eh, Izzy?” He stroked his chin. “I must admit, I never would have guessed you had it in you. But there you go. You have your answer, you don’t need me. Threaten to go to his father. If Royston fears disinheritance, it should be all you need to gain his agreement on the matter.”

  “That’s just it, Paul. I did threaten to do that and it didn’t even faze him! He must think I’m bluffing. And truly, I am, for I cannot possibly go to the Earl with what I know. I respect what Ram did far too much. You know what he risked to jeopardize himself that way.”

  Paul sighed. “It’s the only chance you have at convincing him to grant you an annulment. The King will not help you if he thinks for a moment the Viscount is content with this marriage. Not if he knows Maitland is his man.”

  “I can’t do it,” she whispered, miserably.

  “Oh, Izzy. I wish there were something I could do to help, but there isn’t.” He turned to her, and cupped her face in her hands. “But I do hope it will be me you choose to come to when you need an escape from your husband. I shall always willingly offer you comfort and companionship, you know that.”

  “But I want more than that.” I want you! Despair threatened her composure. She’d been so certain Paul would know what to do to help her. To help them.

  “You know I wanted you to wait for me. But even so, I still want you, and I can see you whenever you come to London, love.”

  She took his meaning right away and stared at him in shock. “N-Nay. I’ll not break my marriage vows.”

  He shrugged. “Everybody does it.” His breath feathered across her face. “There’s no shame in it, especially in arranged marriages. People marry for gain and have affairs for pleasure. You know I’ve desired you for years.” He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “I should have been the first man in your bed.”

  Her fortitude faltered under the words. “It would be wrong.”