by Laura Clarke
Penelope’s Guardian
Promises Book Three
Laura Clarke
Blushing Books
©2017 by Blushing Books® and Laura Clark
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Laura Clark
Penelope’s Guardian
EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-479-9
Print ISBN: 978-1-61258-480-5
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Contents
What’s Inside
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Laura Clark
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What’s Inside
“You’re making my head spin,” she said. “Either you want to inspect my bottom, or you do not.”
He advanced toward her, and Penelope backed up to the door. She wiggled the handle again. There was no key in the lock.
“Is that an invitation?” His husky voice made her close her eyes and groan.
“Unlock the door.”
“You made it sound that way.” He was right in front of her now. Even though he wasn’t touching her she could feel the heat from his body. “I do, you know, want to see your bottom. But I want you to obey me. Go to the table and bend over.”
“But I don’t know…” She leaned slightly forward and put her head against his chest.
“What are you afraid of?” He sounded somewhat amused. “You let me birch you easily enough. I saw your bottom then. Why are you putting up such a fuss about it?”
“Because I’m frightened,” she said. She looked up at him. His dark gaze looked onto hers.
“You’re not frightened, you’re curious, and attracted to the idea of a man playing with your body,” he said. “You didn’t love Bixley, yet you let him kiss and touch you.”
“I don’t love you, either,” she said.
“No, but I can guarantee I’ll give you much more pleasure than he would.” He ran his thumb from the edge of her mouth down to her chin and back.
“Well, when you put it that way, I’m ready to oblige you.” She ducked under his arm and went to the table where she moved a chair aside and bent over. She left her skirts in place.
Her hands trembled, and there was a large part of her that wanted to bolt from the room. The other part remembered the door was locked.
She watched as he walked toward her, his steps slow and even. When he was beside her he cupped her bottom and she thought she might burst into flames. He stepped behind her and placed his crotch against her backside.
“Oh, that’s not—oh,” she said. Was this how it felt when a man took a woman? Was the pressure like this, the incredible feeling of being right next to a person?
“Shush,” he said. He ran his hand down her back right before he pulled away from her and then thrust forward, pushing her into the table.
Her quim tightened, and her nipples pulsed with need. He did it again, and again, and again. Penelope clawed at the table.
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Chapter 1
London, England, 1834
“Father, how can you do this to me?”
Penelope Martin pressed her ear against the library door and prayed none of the servants came by and asked what she was doing. She was snooping, something not done in proper houses, or at least according to her late guardian’s wife, Mary. But of course, Mary had absconded with her lover and half the household silver a week after her husband’s death, so what did she know about good manners?
“Emmett, you are my first-born son, the heir to my title.” Penelope closed her eyes and thought about the man she’d been introduced to at Chester’s funeral. His brother, George Sway, the Duke of Wilshire. He looked much like Chester, tall and dark headed. But his son had not been there. Or had he? She’d been numb, shaken after the death of the man who had treated her so kindly.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Damn, while she’d been daydreaming she’d missed something.
“I don’t know why I have to become her guardian,” the man called Emmett said. “I’m not married. It would be inappropriate for me to shepherd around an unmarried woman.”
Oh, she heard that. He was so right, and she fought the urge to break into the library and voice her opinion. She was twenty-four years old, after all. She didn’t need a guardian anymore.
“Emmett, I want you to read this letter.” There was the rustling of paper, and Penelope wanted to go and look over the man’s shoulder, so she could read it too.
“It’s from Aunt Mary,” Emmett said. “Why should we trust what she has to say? She ran away with her lover.”
“Just read it,” the older man said.
Things were quiet for a few moments.
“Damn you uncle, for sticking me with your problems.” His voice was full of anger, and Penelope moved away from the door.
“Father, you take her on as your ward,” Emmett said. “I cannot.”
“You can, and you will,” the duke said. “Your mother a
nd I are leaving for a tour of the continent. I expect you to care for the girl, and arrange a suitable marriage for her while I’m gone. I understand someone is courting her. Marry her off as soon as possible. Your Uncle Chester had a friend, some widow who lives in the country. He mentioned her to me several times. Get hold of her and ask her to come be the girl’s chaperone. As I understand it, this woman and Chester were quite good friends.”
“They were lovers?” Emmett asked.
If they were, this was the first Penelope had heard about it. As far as she knew, Chester had always been faithful to Mary.
“I haven’t a clue, I know nothing of Chester’s private life,” the duke said. “But send a letter by hand tonight. The sooner she gets here the better. All you will need to do is find out who is courting the girl, arrange a marriage and bide your time until the deed can be done. This friend of Chester’s can take care of the girl until then. Offer her a good sum of money to come as soon as possible.”
That made Penelope’s blood boil. She was not a piece of meat to be traded at market.
“What do we know about this girl?” Emmett asked.
“She’s a pretty little thing,” his father said.
Penelope shook her fist at the door, even though he couldn’t see her.
“That’s what I should tell potential husbands?” Emmett snorted. “Some may be interested, but they’ll want to know about money.”
“I understand Chester left her a sum to come to her upon her marriage,” the duke said. “You’ll have to contact the solicitor to find out the amount. Plus, she’s well educated, and can hold a conversation. She’s not one of those shop for gowns and lie abed until a party type girls.”
“A smart girl can be a problem,” Emmett said. “I don’t want to foist her off onto one of my friends if she’s going to cause troubles for him.”
“Foist this,” Penelope whispered as she stuck her tongue out at the door. What an arrogant ass. She wouldn’t want to marry one of his friends if they acted like him. Besides, she had that situation covered.
“Her father was tutor to Chester’s daughters,” the duke said. He sounded as if he were speaking around a mouthful of food. “When her father died, Chester took her as his ward. She’s been here for quite some time, I believe.”
Heavy footsteps sounded through the hallway and Penelope panicked. She could not be found here, eavesdropping. There was a doorway across from the library, which led to a staircase to the first floor. She opened it and stepped inside, wondering if she should go to her room and keep out of sight, or if she should wait and see what would happen next.
She decided to wait.
A knock on the door, and then the voice of Albert, the butler. Once he was bid to enter he left the door open, bless his soul. Penelope could hear everything. “Sir, there is something of concern that I believe requires your attention upstairs.”
“We already know Mary took a great many things,” the duke said. “What else could be wrong?”
“Please sir, upstairs if you will,” Albert said. “I hate to bother you with this, but I believe it needs to be brought to your attention.”
“Very well,” the duke said.
There was the rattling of dishes, and Penelope was sure they were setting down teacups, from the wonderful tea that Mrs. Havisham, the cook, had laid out for them. When they were gone, Penelope would go in and help herself. She hoped her new guardian had left the letter. She wanted to see what was being said about her.
The footsteps exited the room and headed for the stairs. She heard them as they headed for the first floor, then she exited the servants’ stairwell and inched into the library.
She saw the tea tray and her stomach grumbled. She quickly poured herself a cup and loaded a plate with tiny cakes and sandwiches. After she’d finished the first round she loaded herself up again, and then looked around the table. Yes, there it was, the letter.
She picked it up and scoffed. She had no trouble figuring out who the writer was even though it wasn’t signed. Only a woman had such flowery handwriting. But then again, a man could have enlisted a woman’s help in writing the letter, so as not to be associated with the news inside. It was hardly news a gentleman should be writing.
Dear Sir:
I feel it is my unfortunate duty to inform you that your new ward, Penelope Martin, is behaving in a most scandalous way. I realize that Miss Martin was your brother’s ward, and that, with his death, has become your responsibility. But I wonder, kind sir, if you know how she is behaving.
Miss Martin, as you may or may not know, is four and twenty now, with no prospects for a husband in sight. Of course, with no money but what your brother, well, now you, would settle on her, finding a husband will not be easy. However, she seems to not care about a husband, and only about spreading her favors around unsuspecting members of society.
Penelope’s mouth opened in shock. Spreading her favors. She was a virgin for heaven’s sake. How dare Mary lie about her? She took a sip of tea, and continued to read.
As you know, Miss Martin had resided with your now deceased brother, Chester. However, as I understand it, he allowed her to run wild. She visits gaming halls which are less than reputable, and I understand she has taken a lover, a man named Bixley who owns a furnishings outfit in Portobello. He has been seen leaving your brother’s house at seven in the morning, with a definite spring in his step, if you understand my words.
Penelope crumpled the edge of the paper and shook her head. How could Mary spread such lies? What would her new guardian think of her? She’d never been to a gaming hall in her life, and she’d certainly never spread her legs for Bixley.
It pains me, sir, to bring this information to your attention. But, I fear, if something is not done, the good name of Sway will suffer miserably. I am sorry, good sir, to have to impart such horrible news, but I do think you need to know the truth. My sympathies on the death of your brother.
There was no signature, nor any direction as to where the letter had come from. Penelope read it again. It was obvious it had been written after Chester died. Why had Mary done it after she’d run off? Penelope thought about it for a moment, and then something horrid took hold of her stomach and twisted.
Chester had been dead for two weeks. The duke, his brother, had arrived just days after the death to take care of the funeral and other business arrangements. Where had he been before then? How had the letter found him before he got to London? There was only one answer, and it hurt Penelope to her core.
Someone had written, and sent, the letter before Chester died, knowing he would be gone from this world. That could mean only one thing.
Mary had planned her husband’s death. She hated to jump to conclusions, but there could be no other answer. She read it through one more time, then folded it back up and put it in her pocket. But as soon as the missive was there she knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. She didn’t want them to know she’d read the letter. She put it back where she’d found it, then took her teacup and plate of food and headed for the stairwell where she’d hidden before. She would finish her tea, and wait to see what they had to say when they came back.
She didn’t have to wait long. She heard footsteps and then the closing of the door. She waited until she was sure Albert was gone, then went back to see if she could glean any information about why he had called them upstairs.
“Did you eat all the cakes?” Penelope put her hand over her mouth to smother a laugh.
“Surely not, Father,” Emmett said. “I can ring for more, if you like.”
“No, I don’t need to be eating anymore,” he said. “I understand the cook is making lamb for dinner, and I want to save room. Now, where were we?”
“We were talking about the chit, but I think we need to change the subject to the missing items.”
Missing items? Penelope frowned. What was missing?
“Should we search Miss Martin’s room?”
Penelope stepped back from the door. F
irst Mary called her a whore, and now Emmett Sway thought she was a thief. What was missing? She tried to remember the items from upstairs. The silver and most of the valuables were on the ground floor. The first floor held bedrooms on one side, and Chester’s library and Mary’s sitting room on the next. They already knew Mary had taken her jewelry when she’d left. She’d drafted a note that said she was going to the country to rid herself of the grief caused by her husband’s death.
But Albert could ever be counted upon. He had seen Mary kissing Clark Weston, the young clerk from the lending library. They had gotten into the carriage and left. Albert had gone upstairs to find Mary’s jewels gone. And, of course, he told the duke as soon as he could.
“How do we know the books are not something Mary took?” the duke asked. “They are valuable, true, but would Miss Martin know that? I don’t think Chester talked about them with everyone.”
“Father, maybe she has Mary’s jewels, too,” Emmett said. “We should look.”
“I won’t brand the girl a thief,” the duke said. But there was a pause, and Penelope thought maybe he was reconsidering.
“However, perhaps we should do an inventory of the house, to see what else is missing,” the duke said. “I’ll leave that to your care.”
“Another thing for me to do,” Emmett said. “Thank you for that.”
“It’s not as if you have anything else to do,” the duke said. “Both your brothers are married and setting up their own lives, something you’ve avoided for some time.”