Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
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His Virgin Widow
Melinda Barron
Blushing Books
©2018 by Blushing Books® and Melinda Barron
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Melinda Barron
His Virgin Widow
EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-565-9
Print ISBN: 978-1-61258-624-3
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.
What’s Inside
Lord Essex had taken off his coat and loosened his shirtsleeves during the spanking. Now, sitting in the chair with the leather draped casually across his lap, he looked wicked.
I shivered, trying to find my voice. “Please forgive me, milord,” I said in a mimic of Amelia’s words. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was simply looking for a quiet place. I won’t tell anyone what I’ve seen. I swear.”
Lord Essex’s smile deepened. “Oh, I know you won’t say anything, Mrs. Hudson. It would further harm your already damaged reputation. I’m not worried about you saying anything. I’m wondering how to punish you for prying into my private affairs.”
He wiggled the leather in his lap and smiled.
“Oh no!” My voice was quivering. I tried to put conviction in my words. “I will not allow you to do that...” I stopped and pointed to the table, “to me. And I did not pry. It was an honest mistake.”
And he laughed. He actually laughed at me. He stood and walked toward me, the leather strap hanging from his hand.
“Oh, my dear Mrs. Hudson, you will allow it, and much more before we are finished. And, if it was an honest mistake you should have made your presence known.” He crossed behind me and gathered me into his arms, using the strap to pull me back against him. The leather was resting against my stomach and I shuddered.
His lips were near my ears. Never had a man held me this closely, not even Barnard.
“My sweet Mrs. Hudson, I simply cannot allow you to witness what you just did without any punishment.”
I tried to wiggle out of his arms and he pulled the leather tighter. I could feel his manhood pressed against my bum. It was hard and much larger than I thought it would be. It caused a wave of what I could only assume was desire that made my knees go weak. I wanted to turn around and touch it. To see it. The feelings scared me and thrilled me at the same time.
“Release me,” I said softly. “I promise you I won’t say anything. Please, release me.”
He kissed my neck, just below my ear and I moaned. He dropped the leather at my feet and his hands went up to my breasts, gently caressing them through the satin material. Then he pulled on the bodice and my nipples spilled forth. They were hard and aching. He gathered them in his fingers and gently twisted them. I pushed myself back against him and laid my head on his shoulder.
“My sweet Mrs. Hudson, how I look forward to training you.” He continued to caress my nipples. “Your sweet bum calls to me even now. However, we don’t have time. Dinner will be served in moments.”
My breathing was coming in short gasps. I knew that I should try and break out of his arms, but I didn’t want to. “Please.”
He laughed lightly. “Please what, my sweet Mrs. Hudson?” His lips were in my hair, his fingers twisted my nipples harshly and I cried out.
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Chapter 1
London
Fall 1885
“There she is, Charlotte Hudson, a widow and a virgin.” The large woman held a fan in front of her face and tittered. I thought I was going to slap her. If she was going to talk about me, the least she could do was make sure I didn’t hear her.
“Rumor has it she killed her husband on their wedding day.” The other woman sitting next to her was small and mousy looking. My mourning had been over for four days and I had made sure to attend Lord Essex’s party because I knew half the ton would attend. And I’d made sure to wear something that would catch everyone’s attention.
My red satin dress was low cut and very frilly. Let the old hens gossip. All I wanted was to be in something besides black.
The first woman spoke again. “Look at that dress. Husband hunting again, I would say. And barely out of mourning. Barnard left her money, quite a bit of it I hear. But I’m sure she wants more. Perhaps she should choose an old husband who is about to die. Then she could have his house and blunt and wouldn’t have to worry about living with her first husband’s father anymore. She’ll just need to be sure she makes it to the marriage bed before she kills off this one.”
I turned and stared at her, recognizing Lady Chesterfield. “You’re right, milady, I’m looking again. But I want someone young, not someone old. Do you have someone in mind? Perhaps your son. I hear he’s looking for a young virgin. Should I offer myself?” My voice was high and several people in the vicinity turned to stare.
Several of the gentlemen laughed boldly and the woman I was addressing gave me an evil stare. “You little hussy, you don’t deserve to be here. And you stay away from my son!”
I returned the stare. “Perhaps I don’t, but Lord Essex invited me just the same. Perhaps I should ask him to seat me next to your son at dinner. His name is Tarleton, correct? I wonder, though, if he would know what to do with
a virgin. Several stories I have heard indicate otherwise.”
Lady Chesterfield stood, her bulk quivering with indignation. “I shall have you removed at once you insolent little tramp. Murderess, that is what you are!” She pointed her finger at me and the laughing that had taken place at my comments about Tarleton Tupin, the future Lord Chesterfield, died down.
“I find it hard to see how I can be a virgin and a tramp at the same time,” I said, glaring at her. I started to add more to the statement, but I felt a hand on my elbow, squeezing gently and looked up to see Lord Essex staring at me. Our host had mischief in his eyes as he shook his head at me, indicating I should stay quiet.
“Ladies, ladies,” he said softly. A crowd had gathered to see what would happen next. “It is early in the evening. I believe that if we are to have a disagreement it should come after dinner. Lady Chesterfield, as much as I enjoy your company I would also request that you refrain from calling my guests murderers. It makes me most unhappy.”
Lady Chesterfield turned her glare from me and smiled up at Lord Essex’s handsome face. “Do forgive me, milord. I lost my temper.”
She turned and glared at me again.
“I think, Lady Chesterfield, that the person who deserves an apology here is Mrs. Hudson,” Lord Essex’s voice was like melted chocolate. “After all, she is the one who had been branded a murderess with no evidence to support the idea.”
Lady Chesterfield looked as if she would gag on the words, but she uttered an apology, which I accepted. Then her friend took her by the arm and led her away. The crowd was dispersing. I knew they were talking about the incident and that by morning it would be in every gossip sheet in London. After all, my husband had died on our wedding day, after falling from the rooftop of his father’s home. And I had been seen on the roof, talking to Bernard before he died. His father was now my guardian, as I had no other relatives.
I looked up at Lord Essex. He was a very handsome man, about thirty-five years of age, muscular with dark hair and eyes. My friend Layla said he was the very essence of the phrase ‘tall, dark and handsome’. Seeing him now, I realized she was right.
“Forgive me, milord,” I whispered softly. “I will gather my wrap and take my leave. Perhaps you could tell my friend Layla, Lady Thomas, where I have gone?”
Lord Essex’s face broke into a large grin. “On the contrary, Mrs. Hudson, this little incident will liven up what has been a rather dull affair. You will not leave. You will stay. And you will enjoy yourself at dinner and at the dancing afterwards. If you do not save me a dance I will be most unhappy.”
He took my hand and kissed it gently, smiling at me as he did so. And then he was gone. I watched him walk up to two of his well-known friends, Lord Beaton and Lord Cannonberry. They put their heads together and began talking animatedly. Layla appeared at my shoulder, laughing as she tried to get my attention.
“My goodness, I can’t believe you have caused such a fuss on your first night back in society.” She followed my eyes to the trio of Lords standing in the center of the room. “Isn’t he handsome? I think you should set your cap for him. He obviously fancies you, inviting you to his ball, knowing the exact day that your mourning was over. That means he’s kept track of the time. Perhaps he wants the virgin widow in his bed.”
I laughed and turned to look at Layla. She looked stunning this evening in a blue satin gown. She reached up and tucked back one of my dark curls and I shook my head. “He is rather handsome, but I think he is a bit out of my league. I mean really, I’m the daughter, and widow of a merchant, a well-known merchant whose family moves in society, but a merchant nonetheless. I don’t see Lord Essex inviting me to his bed.”
Layla smiled. She had landed a Lord during her second season and recently presented him with a son. “And would you go to his bed? Would you give yourself to the handsome Lord?”
“Of course not,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I will go to my wedding night a virgin.”
Layla laughed again. “I have news for you, Charlotte. You’ve already had your wedding night and you’re still a virgin. I think you should find a way to move out of the Hudson home and live on the money Barnard left you. Surely someone, perhaps Lord Essex, could help you do that. And then invite him to your bed. You won’t regret it.”
I was staring at Lord Essex as he talked to his two friends. All three were very handsome. Lord Essex was as dark and handsome as his friends were blond and handsome. I stared at Lord Essex again. I wondered what it would be like to lie under him, or any man for that matter. His hands were large, and I thought about them caressing my breasts, slipping between my thighs. I wondered what a man looked like without his clothing on.
As if he could sense what I was thinking, Lord Essex turned and looked at me, smiling, a seductive twinkle in his eyes. We locked eyes for a moment and I felt my breath catch in my chest. Then he smiled and turned, nodding at Lord Cannonberry, who grinned. They left the room together.
Layla leaned in closer to me and whispered in my ear. “Do it, Charlotte, do it. Think about it. You’re twenty-three years old and still a virgin. You’ve spent the last year in mourning. I’m sure that Lord Essex would gladly take you to his bed. The man obviously wants you. I’ll cover for you during your trysts.”
I shook my head at her and smiled. “I couldn’t possibly, Layla. What would he want with a silly little virgin like me? I’m sure he has many willing women to warm his bed.”
I tried to change the subject. “I hope they have me sitting near you during dinner. I don’t think I can stand it if we’re not. One can only be called a murderess so many times during a day.”
We laughed and moved into the main room. Then Layla’s husband came to claim her, smiling at me and kissing me on the cheek, and I was alone again. The guests were staring at me, turning their backs and talking low. I had that effect on people. My father, Joshua Martin, was partners with Raymond Hudson, my late husband’s father. They had matched us to keep the business in the family. My father had died two months before Barnard and I had married.
After Barnard died, I’d done the only thing I knew to do. I moved in with Raymond Hudson and his wife, Sarah. The whispers of murder had started two days after Barnard’s death. Several people said they’d seen me on the roof before Barnard had fallen. It was true, but he had been alive when I left. When the actual incident occurred, I’d been downstairs with Sarah, making sure the wedding dinner was ready to be served.
But the ton had ignored Sarah’s denials, saying she would have protected me since I was married to her son. I had been branded a murderess. The authorities had not seen fit to charge me, but during my mourning period I had been shunned. No one except Layla showed up for tea, when someone met me out shopping they’d turned their backs. Even Sarah and Raymond had begun to distance themselves from me, even though I lived in their home.
When the invitation to Lord Essex’s ball had arrived, I’d been shocked. I couldn’t believe he was inviting me to what was one of the biggest events of the season. Sarah told me I couldn’t attend, because of my mourning. I’d pointed out to her that my mourning period would be over four days before the ball. Then I’d ordered a red dress that was so low cut my breasts were barely covered and taken the family carriage, while Sarah and Raymond had declined to attend.
I stood near a group of women and thought about joining their conversation. Two were friends of mine from school, Rachel Adams, now a mother of three, and Amanda Williams, a new bride. Both turned their backs on me without saying a word.
I looked around for the refreshment table, thinking a drink of lemonade would improve my mood. I moved to the table where a handsome young man about my age handed me a cup. Before I could find out his name his mother came and snatched him away, sending me a look that could have melted ice.
I sipped my lemonade and made my way around the room. No one had made an attempt to talk with me. I stood alone for a few moments and then decided that maybe Sarah was right. I shouldn�
��t have come. I’d caused a ruckus, and Layla was busy with her husband and his friends.
I looked around for Lord Essex, planning on giving him my regrets and taking my leave. I couldn’t find him. I sat down my cup and left the room. The house was enormous, and I wondered where he might be. He had stood up for me, but I was sure Layla was wrong. He was only being polite to his guest. He didn’t have designs on me.
I moved down the hallway and looked at the paintings on the wall. Scenes of fox hunting and landscapes. I didn’t recognize any of the artists, but the paintings were well done.
I took another right down a corridor and realized that the crowd had thinned. In the main hallway people had been mulling around me, trying to ignore me. Now, I was alone. I continued looking at the paintings. The doors were shut and dark underneath, except for one room at the end of the hall. A light was visible under the doorway.
I wondered if Lord Essex was in the room and that’s why lamps had been lit inside. I knocked and received no answer. I knocked again and turned the handle. The door opened inward to reveal a library. It was warm and cozy, a large table with several chairs around it lined the far wall. Two of the other walls were lined with books. A warm, toasty blaze crackled in the fireplace. I stepped inside. I loved to read. It was a great passion of mine that my father had indulged. Several large wingback chairs were placed around the room. The Persian carpets looked expensive and gave the room an exotic feeing.
I stopped in the doorway. I could go inside and invade Lord Essex’s privacy, or I could go back to the main room and be ignored, listening to people brand me a murderess. I stepped inside and closed the door.
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