His Virgin Widow

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His Virgin Widow Page 6

by Melinda Barron

“My apologies, Lady Essex,” he said, “I did not mean to upset you further. If we have more questions we will return.”

  After they had gone George gathered me onto his lap, kissing me and pulling me close.

  “Don’t worry my sweet, I won’t allow this to hurt you. You had nothing to do with this.” He pushed me away gently and gave me a wonderful smile, raising his eyebrows. “And you have a wonderfully red ass to prove where you were last night.”

  He laughed, and I tried to do the same. He knew that, but did anyone else?

  We attended a party at the Duke of Mamouth’s house that night. I had argued that we should stay home but George would not hear of it.

  “We will not hide ourselves away like guilty parties,” he said. “We have nothing to fear. We are part of the offended parties here. Someone dumped Edwards’ body on our doorstep. I intend to find out whom.”

  The room at the Duke’s house fell into silence when we entered. His Grace came over and greeted us, relieving some of the tension.

  “Lady Essex, I am very sorry for the shock you received this afternoon.” He leaned over and kissed my hand. “It is a good thing you have Lord Essex to watch over you. If you will excuse me saying so trouble does seem to follow you.”

  George laughed. “So, it does. It makes life more interesting.”

  I forced a smile in return. I did not think there was anything funny about the situation.

  Lord Ellington and Lord Beaton greeted us, and then led us into a quiet corner.

  “My dear, I hope you are suffering well,” Ellington said. He turned to George. “We have already started inquiries and have come up with some interesting facts.”

  We sat down in a grouping of chairs. I could feel people’s eyes following us. I could hear them talking about the fact that another body had fallen at my feet.

  “After his behavior at the Duke of Waterfield’s party, Edwards was banned from invitation lists,” Ellington said. “He spent most of his time in the gaming hells, and at his mistress’ house.”

  “And her name?” George’s voice was harsh.

  “She calls herself Michelle White,” Beaton said. “Whether or not that is her real name is unknown. However, my sources tell me that she has been searching for another protector, even before Edwards’ death. Seems Edwards owes quite a bit of money for gambling debts, and has for some time. I believe she thinks that he has, excuse me had, not been paying her enough attention, or giving her enough gifts.”

  “So, he needed money,” George said. “Pardon me for saying so, my sweet, but that may have been why he wanted to press his suit on you He had to have known that you received quite a bit of money when Bernard died.”

  The thought upset me, but I knew it was probably true.

  “Still, who would kill him and place him on our steps?” I looked at the three men seated around me. “What purpose would that serve?”

  Ellington cleared his throat. “Perhaps he told the person he owed money to that he would have his hands on your money soon. When you married Essex that person would have been angry, thinking you had cheated him out of his money. He may have killed Edwards and dumped him to make sure the authorities did not look in his direction.”

  George shook his head. “It seems too easy, that he thought he could marry her so quickly.”

  Barton laughed. “You did. Very quickly.”

  We all laughed at that remark.

  Ellington leaned in. “How is your training going, Charlotte? Have you tasted the leather?”

  I nodded and blushed heavily.

  “And loved it, from the looks of it.” Ellington patted my leg. “The strap leaves wonderfully lasting welts. The initiation is getting closer. We’re all looking forward to it.”

  He leaned in and kissed my cheek and then nodded to Essex and Barton before leaving.

  “We need to find out who Edwards owed money to,” Barton said. “I’ll ask around, but I do believe it is probably Simpson. He owns three of the most popular gaming hells. I’ll go now and make inquiries. I’ll meet you back at your home around midnight.”

  When we came into the main room, Layla and Martin had arrived. She rushed to gather me in a hug.

  “I wanted to come by this afternoon, but I had to have tea with my mother-in-law.” She wrinkled her nose. “Are you all right? What happened? Who killed Geoffrey Edwards?”

  I told her that we didn’t know, and then recanted the questioning from Scotland Yard.

  “It was awful, Layla,” I whispered. “All I could think about was Bernard and it was happening all over again, except of course that Geoffrey was not my husband.”

  I glanced at George, who was talking with Barton and Martin.

  Layla hugged me again. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow, that will take your mind off things, and give you a chance to spend some of your new husband’s money.” I agreed and we both laughed.

  We ate dinner, although the food tasted like paste to me, and then left before the dancing started.

  When we were in the carriage George ordered the driver to “make turns around the park until told differently.” Then he smiled at me wickedly.

  “You need something to take your mind off things, my sweet.” His voice was deep with desire. “And I want to teach you something new. Kneel in front of me.”

  I knelt, trying to keep my balance against the gentle rocking of the carriage. I watched as he took out his cock, marveling again at how I loved the sight of it.

  “Hands behind your back, Charlotte.” I obeyed and watched greedily as he stroked himself to hardness.

  “Lick me.” I stared up at his face, not believing what I had just heard.

  “Lick your cock?” I knew my voice was trembling. “I could never do that.”

  “You can, and you will,” George said, his voice firm, his hand still stroking his hard cock. “You will do it, now. I will not spank you in the carriage, Charlotte, because it would be difficult to bare your bottom. But you can rest assured that if you do not do as you are told immediately, I will give you a taste of the leather like you have never felt before when we arrive home. Now, lick me.”

  I leaned toward him, finding it hard to keep my balance in the moving carriage with my hands clasped behind my back. I tentatively ran my tongue along the tip of his cock, and then pulled back.

  “Harder and longer, Charlotte, lick until I tell you to stop.”

  I sat back. “George, this is…”

  “George?” His eyebrows were raised. “Goodness, do you think the rules only apply in the bedroom? You’ll receive twenty for that little slip. Lick me, now.”

  I bent my head again and began running my tongue along his cock. It felt strange to do be doing this, and yet it brought me a delicious thrill.

  After a few moments I heard George sigh. “Take me in your mouth. Suck it gently.” I inched closer and took the tip of him inside. He placed his hands on either side of my head and pushed me further down. “Suck me, Charlotte. Be my hussy. Suck me deep.”

  I tried to rise, but his hands held me in place, moving my head up and down on his cock. “Tighten your mouth, suck harder my sweet hussy.” He began bucking his hips up to meet my mouth as it came down, filling me totally. I tried to rise to ask what I should do when he neared completion, but he would not let me. His hands held my head firmly in place as I continued to suck.

  Moments later, I found out what to do as I felt the first of his seed hit the back of my throat. “Swallow it, swallow it all.” The taste was salty, and I swallowed quickly, trying to keep it from going elsewhere. It seemed to last forever. George was moaning his approval, telling me what a sweet hussy I was, how he loved seeing me on my knees before him, how he planned to use every hole in my body for his pleasure.

  When he finally released my head, I raised up. His head was leaning against the back of the seat.

  “Lay yourself across my lap, Charlotte.” The command was harsh.

  “You said you wouldn’t spank me in the carriage,” I
complained.

  Master George looked at me and grinned. “I lied. I wanted my pleasure first, and you should not question me. That’s forty when we arrive home. Now, do as you’re told.”

  Once I was in place, he raised my skirts and lowered my under-alls. After ordering me to remain silent he delivered twenty sharp slaps to my behind with his hand. Then he delivered twenty more, “just because I can.”

  He rubbed my behind. “Do you belong to me, Charlotte?”

  “Yes, Master George, I belong to you.”

  “And do you enjoy our time together?”

  “You know I do, Master George.”

  He slapped my ass again and I squirmed, trying to rub myself against his thigh.

  “Stop that, Charlotte.” He slapped me again and then ordered me back down on my knees.

  “One of the things we need to work on in your training, Charlotte, is that spending is for when you obey me without question. You questioned me tonight, so you will not find release. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, pouting at the thought and George laughed.

  “Pout all you want, sweet one, but that is a rule, and I have been too lax in following it,” George said. “That laxness won’t continue.”

  I deepened the pout in hopes of coaxing George into changing his mind. Instead he looked out the windows, and then rapped on the top of the carriage, indicating for the driver to take us home.

  “When we get home, you will disrobe and place yourself at the end of the bed,” George said. “I want to bind you to the bedpost before I deliver your forty swats. I do so love you in that position.”

  “And before you pout, too much I have a surprise for you tomorrow night, something that will ease you into your initiation,” George said. “You had better behave yourself or I will cancel it.”

  Chapter 5

  “I think you need one in peach also.” Layla’s voice was giddy as she fingered the material in the dressmaker’s shop. During lunch she had announced that she was again with child. I wondered when I would be able to make the same announcement.

  Would George be happy when I did? We had not discussed children before marriage. We had not discussed anything. We had bedded and then wedded. I didn’t know anything about him, really. Except for the fact that he had taught me many things about pain and pleasure.

  I watched Layla pick out more material. Did she and Martin do the things that George and I did? Was she taken over a knee? Tied to a bedpost? Spanked in a carriage after she had taken her husband in her mouth? I shivered at the memory of the previous night. It seemed that I craved the things he offered more and more.

  “Are you even listening to me?” Layla’s voice was sharp. “I said you need to order one of these dresses in peach, and in blue.”

  I nodded at the dressmaker who quickly went to gather materials for accessories, hoping to extend the sale.

  “You were a million miles away,” Layla said softly. “Are you all right? Don’t worry about Geoffrey Edwards, George will take care of everything. Don’t you agree?”

  I nodded. George was at that moment roaming the streets of London with Lord Cannonberry, searching for Edwards’ mistress. I wondered what she would tell them. I wondered if Edwards’ death was somehow linked to Bernard’s. Barton had come to our home at midnight as planned, and told George that Geoffrey Edwards owed more than 60,000 pounds to a man named Simpson. It reinforced the idea that he wanted to wed me to get his hands on my money. But what did any of it have to do with Bernard?

  I shook my head, then turned and smiled at Layla. Then I turned and smiled at the dressmaker. George had told me to forget about everything, to enjoy my afternoon and “buy something to surprise him.”

  The dressmaker nodded at my request while Layla gasped

  “My goodness, you have come a long way from being the Virgin Widow, haven’t you?” She laughed.

  “I cannot believe that you won’t tell me what you’ve found out. It’s not fair.” My voice rang through the carriage. George was sitting on the other side, picking lint from his pant leg. He had a lazy smile on his dark, handsome face.

  “You look very lovely in your blue dress, my sweet,” he said. “I was the envy of every man at the playhouse. Tell me, are you looking forward to this evening?”

  “How can I be when I don’t know what to expect?”

  George laughed. “Being surprised is half the fun, sweet Charlotte. You will love tonight, trust me.”

  I indeed loved to be spanked. George made sure I loved it. The pain was intense, but it was always followed by intense pleasure. But tonight, would be different.

  He ran his hand over his cock. I could see the hardened outline of it against his trousers. We were on our way to a late gathering at the Duke of Wickham’s home. As I did when I met anyone new lately I wondered if Wickham was a member of The Club. Would he be one of the men watching while George spanked me? Would I be naked in front of him? The thought sent a chill down my spine.

  I looked back at George. He had taken his cock out of his trousers and was stroking it. He banged on the carriage top twice, a signal for the driver to not arrive at our destination until he was told.

  “Suck me Charlotte, show me what you learned last night.” I smiled at Master George and got down on my knees. Clasping my hands behind my back I lowered my head, and heard him groan in response.

  “You are a quick learner, my sweet wife,” he sighed, bucking his hips to meet my mouth. “A very quick learner.”

  “My dear, how awful it must have been for you.” The Duchess of Wickham gathered me against her giant bosom and pulled me close. I thought it strange that just two short weeks ago the Duchess, and others of her standing, would not have said two words to me. All it took were the simple words ‘I do’ to make me a good person, incapable of murder in their eyes. I thought it interesting also that the Duchess called me ‘my dear’, as she was only a few years my senior.

  “I do hope that you are faring well,” she whispered. “Of course, with a wonderful man like George to protect you, you should fare very well. He knows how to whip things into shape.” She pulled back and gave me a knowing grin and told me to call her Ellen. So much for the question about the Duke of Wickham’s participation in the Rakes Club. Obviously, he enjoyed membership, as did his wife.

  George looked at me and smiled, and then motioned me toward him. He was talking with Barton and Cannonberry. He kissed my cheek when I arrived and the four of us headed toward the gardens. Lord Ellington joined us soon after.

  “Reports?” Ellington said after bussing my cheek.

  Barton told Ellington about Simpson and the money that he was owed.

  “Edwards’ father will make good on the debt,” Ellington said. “That will keep his son’s name from being sullied any further.”

  George smiled. “I don’t know about that. Eric and I found out some interesting tidbits from Michelle White, Edwards’ mistress, this afternoon.” He nodded at Lord Cannonberry, who took up the tale.

  “Edwards and Bernard Hudson were lovers.” Cannonberry’s words shook me to the center of my core.

  “That’s not possible,” I whispered. “He married me. He couldn’t have been lovers with a man.”

  George shook his head. “I am sorry my dear, but it is true, if Michelle White is being honest, and I have no reason not to believe her. According to Michelle White, Edwards and Hudson would come over frequently. Edwards would bind Hudson and torment his cock. Then he would force him to watch while Edwards and Michelle had sex, tormenting him with words. Other times, well…” his words dropped off. “Let’s just say that Michelle saw them coupling, on several occasions, with Hudson always acting as the woman.”

  I turned my head in disgust. It would explain many things. Bernard had not even tried to kiss me, much less try anything else. I had wondered at the time what was wrong with me. Now, I knew it was just the fact that I was female.

  George grasped my hand and Cannonberry continued. “Mrs. White s
ays that while drunk one night, Geoffrey confessed to her that he had pushed Bernard off the roof.”

  I felt the air go out of my lungs. “The plan, she says, was that you and Bernard would marry.” Cannonberry nodded at me. “Then when Bernard had your share of the store, and your money, he would kill you. When his father died he would have everything and he and Geoffrey could be together.”

  I felt numb. He had planned on killing me?

  “But why? Why did he push Bernard off the roof?” My voice was low and quivering.

  “She says that Geoffrey told her that he and Bernard had met on the roof to, um, well, pleasure one another.” I shook my head at Cannonberry’s words. “After they were finished, Edwards reportedly told Hudson that he thought they should keep you around, that you were a tidy little morsel that could take Michelle’s place. They fought and when Bernard said he would no longer share Edwards with anyone, Edwards pushed him off the roof. End of problem.”

  Ellington stroked his chin. “But that brings up a new problem. Edwards still needs money and he is obviously attracted to you, dear Charlotte. So, he waits his year and makes his move at the first chance he gets, at Lord Essex’s party. He knows that if he marries you he will get control of your money, and your part of the store, which I understand, is quite profitable. He must have been terribly angry when you took up with George.”

  I nodded. It was all a blur.

  “That doesn’t explain who killed Edwards and left him on our doorstep,” George said. “Edwards had to have another lover, someone he was planning on sharing the money with, who was angry when he lost you. Someone who no longer needed, or wanted, him around.”

  Barton spoke for the first time. “But are we looking for a male, or a female?”

  I sat up straighter. “Obviously, it could be anyone from the sounds of it. The man was a pig. Both of them were pigs.” I was so angry, I thought I would scream. “First Bernard wants me for my money, and then Edwards.” I looked at George. “And you?”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, my dear, I only want you for your pretty reddened bum. I have my own money.” Everyone laughed, including me. It was true, I knew George didn’t want my money.

 

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