by Lucy Wild
I followed the butler meekly inside, looking around me at the dark wood of the hallway, the portraits of stern men scowling down at me as I was led upstairs and along a marble floor to the end of a corridor. The butler unlocked the door and stepped aside. As soon as I crossed the threshold, he pulled the door closed and before I could even turn, the key was turned in the lock and I was trapped.
A single candle was alight on the bedside table. I took it up and looked around me, fresh tears running down my face. Heavy curtains covered a window that was as firmly locked as the door. By my side was a four poster bed and I sat on the edge of it, the candlestick shaking in my hand, shadows flickering on the wall before me. “Happy birthday,” I muttered quietly before setting down the candle and lying back on the covers, my chest hitching as I sobbed uncontrollably.
I do not know how long I lay there but eventually a key turned in the lock and the door opened. Lord Darlington stood silhouetted in the doorway, looming over me as he tossed his cape aside and stepped into the room. He did not acknowledge me until he had locked the door behind him once more. Finally he turned to face me, the edge of his face lit only by the spluttering remains of the candle.
“How do you like your new home?” he asked, taking a step towards me.
“I want to leave,” I replied, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
“You do? And pray, where would you go?”
“Anywhere but here.”
“I do not believe you,” he said, leaning down towards me, his brow furrowing as he examined my face. “I have known many such as you in my time. You want the pleasures of adult life with none of the responsibilities. In time you will learn that such things go hand in hand.”
He took my hand in his and lifted me to my feet. “Come with me. There is something I wish to show you.”
He had barely turned from me when there was an almighty crash downstairs followed by the echoing crack of a gunshot. His expression changed immediately from avaricious hunger to cold darkness, his lips pursing and his eyes narrowing. “Under the bed,” he whispered. “And do not move until I return.” There was a second gunshot and then a scream that chilled my blood filled the air. “Quickly now!” Another shot and the scream ended in an instant.
I sank to the floor and slid underneath the bed, barely fitting between the dark wood of the bed frame and the varnished floor. “I will return,” Darlington whispered, kneeling down and kissing my forehead.
“What is happening?”
“Keep silent if you value your life,” he replied, turning and unlocking the door. I caught a glimpse of a figure on the landing, pistol held outstretched. “My Lord, they are here,” the figure hissed.
“Come,” Darlington replied. “We must get to it before they do.”
He turned and shoved the door closed, the key scraping home in the lock and leaving me alone once more. I listened in terror as the sound of gunshots rang through the house. I heard a voice cry out, “Darlington! Give us what we’re owed and we will leave in peace.”
“Come and collect your dues my friends,” Darlington cried back from somewhere downstairs, his voice muffled by the distance. A silence fell, lasting many minutes, my ears ringing throughout as I yearned to hear something, anything at all. At last there came the sound of heavy footsteps up the stairs and then along the landing towards my door. The sound ceased and a key was inserted into the lock, turning slowly until the door was opened.
“Come on out,” a voice said and I glanced out from under the bed to find myself looking at a wretched man of around fifty, his face coated in dirt, greasy brown hair stringy and lank, his body encased in a long black coat that looked older than him, two buttons missing, replaced by ragged string which held it closed. Around his wrist the remains of a handcuff chain dangled and gripped in his mud caked fingers was the only clean thing about him, a shining metal pistol pointed directly at me. “Your fiancé wishes to speak to you.”
I shook my head, unable to speak, my nerves shot to ribbons.
He sighed and took a step towards me. “I will be the last thing you will see in this world unless you come out from under that bed this instant.”
The cold end of the pistol was pressed to my forehead and I saw a tremor in his finger as if on the verge of squeezing the trigger.
“All right,” I said, my voice barely a croak. “All right.”
He stepped back as I crawled out from under the bed. He grabbed my arm and began leading me from the room. “That’s better,” he grinned, revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth. “All civilised like.”
Tugging me down the stairs I let out a gasp at the sight of a body in the hallway, blood pooled under the corpse of a servant whose name I had not even had time to learn. I had never seen a body before and the sight broke me. I began to weep uncontrollably as my captor merely stepped over it as if a mere inconvenience such as a log left across a woodland path. I skirted round the body as best I could, tears blurring my vision as I was taken through a doorway into a drawing room where Lord Darlington sat bloodied and bruised in an armchair, hands bound behind his back, three men as filthy as my captor standing over him with their pistols drawn.
“Won’t you sit down,” the man by my side said, pushing me down onto the sofa by the fireplace. “There, isn’t that nice? The happy couple together.”
“What have you done to her Spires?” Darlington asked. The butt of a pistol whipped through the air, brought down on his forehead by the man nearest to him, landing with a sickening thud.
“Shut it,” the pistol wielding thug said.
“What have you done to her?” Darlington asked again.
“Nothing,” Spires replied, leaning down and brushing his hand through my hair. I recoiled from him, a waft of stench hitting me as his hand moved down my cheek and onto my chest. He gave my right breast a rough squeeze before stepping back. “Nothing yet at least.” He grinned at me before turning back to Darlington.
“Where’s our share?” Spires asked.
“I told you. I lent it to another.”
“That was eighteen years ago!”
“He has yet to repay me.”
Spires bristled. “Do you have any idea what life is like on a prison hulk?”
Darlington shook his head. “You should have got out when I did.”
“Do not tell me what I should or should not have done.”
“You never were good at listening were you?” Darlington smiled. “Following my instructions for example. Remember when I spent months attempting to show you knotcraft and you grew bored every single time, told me all that mattered was boarding and raiding?”
Spires took a step towards him, pistol outstretched. “I grow tired of listening to your prattle. Either give me what I’m owed or I shoot you dead in front of your blushing bride to be.”
“I only mention knotcraft,” Darlington continued, seemingly oblivious to the barrel of the gun waving in front of his face, “because if you’d paid more attention to my instruction, you might have learned how to tie ropes that could not be worked loose as easily as these.” He brought his hands out from behind his back, tossing the useless rope to Spires. Before the villain could react, Darlington was up and had snatched the pistol from him. The three men standing over him began to move but Darlington was faster, firing the pistol at the first and catching his gun as it fell to the ground.
Turning to the second, Darlington ducked in time for a shot to fire over his back, a bullet embedding itself in the wall behind him. He twisted and returned a shot, the second of the three men joining the first on the floor before I’d even had time to take a breath. The third man turned to run, crashing into Spires and falling headlong onto the floor at my feet. He turned in his place and aimed his pistol at Darlington. “Look out!” I cried.
Darlington spun in time to see the villain on the floor pulling the trigger. He leapt sideways, landing on the far side of the table. The shot shattered the window, the wind blowing the curtains towards us all. Darlingt
on sprang upright and was over the table in a second, sliding across the varnished wood and landing beside me. “Won’t be a moment,” he said to me as he picked up the man on the floor and tossed him straight out of the broken window. There was a scream and then a thud. Darlington ran to the window in time to see the fellow limping away across the grass, Spires by his side. Neither of them looked back.
I realised I had been holding my breath throughout and finally let out a sigh just as the two dead men on the floor drew my eye. I felt myself grow faint once more as I looked at them. “Come,” Darlington said, “this is no place for a lady.”
He took my shaking hand and led me from the room, shielding my eye from the dead man in the hall as we made our way back upstairs. “Rest a while,” he said when we reached his bedroom once more. “No more will happen tonight.”
“Are you certain?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed as he let go of my hand. I felt a strange sensation when he stood back, that of loss, as if my hand had somehow belonged in his and now felt abandoned.
Darlington frowned at me. “I will check the grounds with a couple of stout fellows I can trust.” He reached the doorway and looked back in at me. “I think I can trust you enough to leave the door unlocked this time,” he said before turning and walking swiftly away.
I was silent and still for some time, trying to calm my overworked nerves. Eventually I grew tired and climbed under the bedcovers, surprised by how soft they felt on my skin. I’d never gone to bed fully dressed before but I lacked the energy to search for nightclothes. With my head on the pillow I closed my eyes. Lord Darlington’s face appeared in my mind, the look in his eyes as he’d leapt from the chair in the dining room, the speed with which he’d moved, far faster than I would have thought possible for a man his size and age. A slight fancy entered my mind, the thought of him dispatching a roomful of villains before taking me in his arms and planting a kiss on my lips. With a sigh and that vision playing over and over in my head, I fell asleep.
I awoke to the feel of hands on me. Opening my eyes I could see nothing at first, the room was too dark. My nostrils wrinkled as a stench hit me at the same time as the hands wrapped a gag around my mouth before I could speak. I let out a muffled scream as I realised who it was before me. Spires. “We never finished getting acquainted,” he hissed, binding my wrists in rope before dragging me over to the window which lay open ready. Outside a ladder had been placed and I caught sight of another man at the bottom of it as I was thrust headfirst across the sill, my legs dangling inside as a rope was tied around my ankles. The man at the bottom of the ladder climbed and balanced under me as between the two villains, I was lowered to the ground.
I screamed as loudly as I could but the gag was bound so tightly little sound escaped, the cloth digging into the edges of my jaw with each attempt to call for help. The pair of them ignored my protests, carrying me between them across the grass to a low stone wall that surrounded the estate. I was hoisted over that wall in no time, and then thrown into a carriage which waited at the other side. Two skinny horses scraped at the ground, ready to be off, pulling at their ropes as I vanished into the carriage. Spires climbed in beside me and the other villain climbed up onto the driver’s seat, tugging at the reins and getting the carriage moving a moment later.
Spires manhandled me upright until I was sat on the seat opposite him, my eyes wild with fear. He merely smiled back at me with those awful teeth of his, reaching out to brush my hair from my eyes as I flinched away. “You’ll do in lieu of payment,” he said, his hand moving down to squeeze my breast roughly. “You’ll do most handsomely I believe.” He tugged my nipple through my clothing and I let out a scream, raising my feet and kicking him as hard as I could. He sat back and smiled at me. “Feisty too. Makes it more interesting.”
“You are the devil himself!” I cried but the sound that came out was merely muffled squeaks.
He laughed at my discomfort, grinning at me until I twisted away from him to face the far wall of the carriage. The horses came to a sudden stop a few minutes later and I was jolted forwards, landing in Spires lap. He leered at me as I wriggled away from him. “Why do we stop?” he called out but there was no answer. With a curse, he threw open the door and stepped outside. “I said, why do we…” There was a slight rocking motion on the side of the carriage and then the door closed with a click. I glanced through the window but could see nothing. The horses began to move again, turning to the left so far I could have sworn we were turning back the way we’d come. All I could do was fight to free my hands. I had no idea how Darlington had escaped his bonds so easily, I achieved nothing more than chafing the skin of my wrists as the carriage rocked along for some minutes before coming to a stop.
Whoever was driving stepped down and walked around to the door. It was pulled open and instead of Spires appearing, Lord Darlington stood there, his hand reaching out for mine. “Welcome back,” he said, grabbing the bonds that held my wrists and tugging me forwards. As I began to fall from the carriage steps, he caught me and hefted me over his shoulder, carrying me across the grass to the ladder which still stood leaning on the wall beneath my window. He climbed up it without pause, pushing me back through and clambering in after me. He pulled the window closed before lifting me to my feet and carrying me over to the bed.
“You are safe now,” he said, lying down beside me and taking my hand in his. “It is done at last.”
He pulled the gag from my mouth and I coughed and gasped for some time before feeling able to speak. “What happened?” I asked at last in a hoarse croak.
“I searched the grounds and found the ladder. I climbed in but the room was empty. Following footsteps clear as day in the wet grass, I spied where the carriage had been and the way it went. I used my fastest horse to take the woodland path to get in front of them. I tossed my knife to the driver but he was not a good catch, taking it in the throat instead of the palm. As for Spires, he is going to enjoy a very long rest in the woods. And that is all I wish to speak of those brigands. Now are you injured in any way?”
He looked concerned as he stared at me. The room was lit only by the moon through the window, fading and gleaming in turn as the clouds floated past. In the silver light his features were softened and I found my previous animosity towards him had lessened. I felt no anger, only a growing gratitude for the way he had saved me from danger not once but twice. He was clearly a dangerous man but now I had seen true evil, I knew that was not a part of Darlington’s nature. “I am uninjured,” I replied at last. “Could you perchance untie me?”
“Not yet,” he said, leaning towards me and staring deeply into my eyes. “Not just yet.”
“Why ever not?” I asked but he did not answer. Instead he turned me onto my front, my bound hands crushed under my chest as he placed his hands on my ankles and pulled off my shoes.
“You told me you would not obey me,” he said softly. “If I set you free, you may try to escape.”
I thought about telling him that nothing was further from my mind but I didn’t want to break the spell that seemed to have formed between the two of us. “I might,” I whispered instead as his hands slid up my ankles, raising my skirt slowly until he was able to pull my stockings down, leaving them draped over the bonds holding my feet in place.
That would be a wicked thing to attempt to do,” he said, cupping my buttocks in his thick fingers, squeezing and groping my bottom through my knickers before yanking them down to my knees. “You must learn to do as you are told,” he growled, lifting his hand into the air. There was a moment’s pause and then I heard a loud smack a second before I felt it. His hand had landed on my left buttock, the sound echoing round the room as a heat began to spread through my bottom, nerve endings on fire in an instant.
“I will,” I gasped. “I will learn.”
“That’s good to hear,” he said. “But I think you’re lying.” He spanked me again, harder this time. I winced at the pain, shifting my legs in place. I frowned a
s I felt a wetness on my thighs. My cheeks flushed as I wondered if he had noticed my arousal. It was dark enough in here though, surely he would not be able to tell.
“I’m not lying,” I said as he spanked me a third and then a fourth time. My bottom felt like it was on fire but I found my hips pushing upwards of their own accord towards him. He slid his hand down the valley between the globes of flesh of my posterior, moving away just as it reached the spot where my wetness was forming.
“Will you obey me?” he asked, spanking me harder than ever. “Will you learn to be good?”
“I will!” I yelled as his hand hit my bottom again before squeezing the flesh between his fingers. “I will do anything you ask!”
“Good,” he said quietly, untying my ankles and pushing my legs apart. He tossed my stockings away, whipping off my knickers in a second as if they angered him. “You will never wear underwear again,” he said, kneeling behind me, his hands sliding up my calves. “Is that understood?”
“Yes my lord,” I replied, my hips still pushing upwards towards him, a deep yearning building up inside me.
“Good,” he said again, his hands reaching my inner thighs. He leaned towards me, his hot breath on my bottom. “Very good.” His fingers flicked over the core of my being, gathering up wetness as he slid over the slick folds of flesh that lay there. I moaned into the bed and pushed back harder, wanting more. The most sensitive part of me throbbed for attention but he seemed to delight in tormenting me, moving down my legs to my feet, massaging each of my toes in turn before making his way slowly back up once more. All the while my breathing grew heavier and when his hand brushed over my soaking wet hole, I groaned loudly, gasping all the louder when he slid up to my nub and began circling it with two fingers.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he said and my ears seemed to burn at the sound of that obscene word. “Have you ever been fucked before?”
“No my lord.”
“Say it to me. Say ‘I’ve never been fucked.’” His hands continued to play with me as he spoke, tormenting and pleasing me in equal measure.