by Faye Hall
“Have you been sharing Gordon’s bed, Phoebe?” he asked again. “Have you been performing your wifely duties for your husband?”
She finally raised her gaze to his. “No, I couldn’t. Though I doubt such a thing would concern you, Duncan, especially not with all the beautiful women waiting in line to share your bed.”
She pulled away from him then, trying to escape the crowded dancehall.
He caught up with her just as she entered the estate house, the door to the dance hall closing behind them.
“Why couldn’t you share his bed?” he asked, his words soft against her ear, his hands on her hips moulding her rear back into his hips. “Gordon is your husband. It is your duty to share his bed, Phoebe.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him.
“To hell with my duty.”
She spat the words as if they were poison on her lips.
“Your brother is a pig who knows nothing about how to pleasure a woman. He only knows how to beat her.”
“What about your wedding night?” Duncan continued, his words coming out far crueller than he’d first intended. “At the very least you should have been able to sleep with Gordon that night out of desire. After all, he had just become your husband.”
Finally, Phoebe pulled away from him and turned to face him. She didn’t want to answer him, but she knew he would not let up until she had. Reaching out to him, she so wanted to slap him, to cause him the pain she was feeling in her heart at thinking of all the women he had whored himself to. But gazing into his green eyes, drowning in the allure that was this man, she knew she would find no satisfaction in this man’s pain.
All she ached for was this man’s passion, his strong arms engulfing her and holding her against him as waves of desire crashed against them both.
Hesitantly she brushed her silken fingertips against his slightly stubbled cheek.
“Why haven’t you slept with your husband, Phoebe?” he tried again, his words suddenly husky with desire.
She bit her lip. “Because he’s not you, Duncan.”
His eyes darted quickly to hers, as if unable to believe her words; as if suddenly fearing rejection from her admission. Phoebe tried to turn away from him, but his hands reached for her stopping her.
“Let me go, Duncan, please,” she begged, her face lowered in embarrassment and shame. “I know the man you once were…the man you have become again…I know of the women who have thrown themselves at you again and again, women far more beautiful than I.”
Pulling her to him, he wrapped his arms around her. His lips hungrily taking, she silently begged him to make her feel so much more than any of the other women he had taken. Swinging her up into his strong arms, he carried her to a nearby door. Opening it, his eyes immediately went to the bed inside.
Kicking the door shut behind them, he walked toward the bed and gently laid her down.
“I don’t want your pity, Duncan,” she mumbled, trying to scamper off the bed.
“There is no pity.” He held her hand, stopping her. “But if you don’t want to be here with me, Phoebe...if you don’t love me...you are free to leave.”
She didn’t move.
Bending to her, he kissed her cheek, his affections trailing down her slender neck. “I’m not here with you out of pity, Phoebe,” he explained as he tried lowering her corset to catch a glimpse of her swollen breasts. Unsuccessful, his hand lowered to her skirts, beginning to gather them up to reveal her stocking-clad thighs.
“You have women a plenty wanting nothing more than to play your whores, Duncan,” she tried half-heartedly to fight against him. “Why is it you must play with my emotions...with my heart?”
His hand stilled then as he lifted his face to look at her. Leaning into her, he kissed her ever so softly on her lips, his hand leaving her leg and coming up to cup her cheek. Ever so slowly his lips left hers and he crouched before her.
“You are not a plaything for me, Phoebe,” he admitted softly, his fingers tracing patterns down her neck and to the bust of her dress. “You never have been.”
“Then what am I, Duncan?” she asked, tears lacing her voice.
His hand fell away from her, and resting them in her lap he entwined his fingers with hers.
“You were to have been a business transaction, Phoebe. A delivery and nothing more. But…”
His words trailed off.
“I don’t expect you to believe me,” he muttered in barely more than a whisper. “After everything you must have been told about me…”
His words trailed off again, one of his hands lifting to her face and caressing her cheek.
“If I could make things different. If I could make you a part of me…” His lips pursed. Finally he let out a heavy sigh, his hand falling back into her lap, his fingers entwining with hers. “I hate my brother for many reasons, Phoebe. Many reasons you will never know about and never be able to understand. But I hate him now more than ever because he has you…” His breathing became heavy. “I hate him for taking you as his wife before I could.”
Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. “But, Duncan—”
“I know,” he cut her off. “I know nothing of the girl you once were, Phoebe...but I ache every day to. Just like I ache to know more about the woman you are now...and the woman you will become in the many years ahead.”
Lifting her hands, he kissed her fingers softly, his gaze never leaving hers. He knew what she wanted to hear, but the coward in him was so very scared to say it. Feeling her lips lightly kissing his forehead gave him the strength he needed.
Duncan smiled nervously to himself as he thought of what he was confessing too.
“I fell in love with you on our way back from Ravenswood, Phoebe,” he finally confessed. “I would have given you anything. You’re why I came back home. I needed to keep you safe and…” His expression grew serious. “And I needed to beg you to leave your husband...for me.”
Tears spilled over her eyes, her hands cupping his cheeks, her lips joining to his. Duncan returned her embrace as hungrily as it was being given, his fingers busily pulling her skirts up, her stocking clad thighs spreading and welcoming him inside her.
His hand on her stomach, he pushed her back against the bed, his other hand pushed her thighs apart further, opening her to him. Leaning into her, he tentatively lapped at her already wet slit, his eyes closing as her pleasurable taste covered his tongue.
Lifting her feet to the edge of the mattress, he opened her pleasures to him more. His hands wrapping around her thighs, he pulled her to the edge of the bed, his mouth engulfing her, drinking from her.
“Duncan,” she gasped, her hands going to his hair.
Feeling his rod throbbing against the seam of his pants, he knew he was on the verge of losing control, still he hungered for the taste of this woman. He wanted to drink her passion from her.
Sensing she was nearing her climax, he slid a single digit through her juice and carefully into her tight hole. He felt her tense against him, as if she struggled to drown a loud gasp of pleasure. Phoebe moved her hips in a rhythm, rubbing her quim against his lapping tongue faster and faster, until her fingers gripped in his hair tightly and she called his name like a breath on the wind.
Unable to hold his own release anymore, he quickly stood and unfastened his trousers, driving his throbbing cock deep inside her. He felt her tightness clenching around him as her release continued.
Sliding her up the bed, he plunged deeper and deeper inside of her, feeling her nails piercing the skin on his back, her teeth gently biting at his chest.
“Oh, Duncan…,” she gasped.
This was his undoing, and plunging inside her one final time, he pumped his cum deep inside of her, his strong arms engulfed her, and held her to him.
Their passions sated, he kissed the soft spot at the base of her ear.
“Why did you tell my brother that you were pregnant?” he asked, his hand resting protectively on her stomach.
She stiffened in his arms. “Who told you that?”
“Gordon did.” Duncan replied. “Apparently you told him you paid my debts out in exchange for the child I put in your belly.”
He rolled her over, looking down upon her beautiful flushed features. “Were you carrying my child, Phoebe?”
She slowly shook her head. “Gordon detests pregnant women. When he found us I knew I would have no choice but to go back with him. I told him the one thing that I knew might keep him away from my bed.”
He kissed her lips softly. “And has it?”
“As I told you in town. Your brother finds his pleasures in other ways.”
“By beating you?” he asked.
She nodded. “Gordon finds pleasure from inflicting pain on those around him...not so unlike yourself.”
Her words pained him. “I have taken great care to never hurt you, Phoebe. I find no pleasure in your pain.”
A tear welled in her eye. “Yet you cause it so often...every time I have to see you with your beautiful fiancée on your arm, knowing it will be her bed you will be visiting instead of mine.”
He studied her, his fingers going to her face to try and wipe away her tears. “It pains you thinking of me with other women?”
She nodded. “I’m not ignorant to what your family does, Duncan, legally or illegally, or how they go about doing the business they do. I know also what you used to do for the company...what you apparently still do.”
He wanted to tell her the truth but he couldn’t risk putting her life in any more danger.
“I had to come back, Phoebe. I had to come back for you and working for my family allowed me the opportunity to do that.”
“It allowed you the opportunity to cheat, steal and whore your way through the town, Duncan. Don’t treat like me like a fool. I know what you do.”
She tried to push him away then but he wouldn’t let her. He knew what she said about him was once true, but he needed her to understand that he wasn’t that man anymore nor was he ever going to be again.
“I swore years ago when I left the family business that I would never return to it for anything. When I met you…”
He shut his eyes briefly, pulling on every ounce of control he had. “When I had to watch you walk away from me and into the arms of my brother, I swore I would do anything to make you come back to me, Phoebe. But I knew no woman such as you would give up everything they had for a nobody like me with barely a penny to my name. I knew if I went back working for my family I would have enough money and enough standing to give you the life you deserved if only I could convince you to come back to me.”
“I never wanted your money, Duncan,” she explained. “All I ever wanted was you—just you.”
He kissed her then, his lips taking hers hungrily, feeling himself again growing hard knowing he needed to have her again.
Kissing her slowly, their passions again sated, Duncan brushed her hair back from her face.
“I need to return to the hall before I am missed, Phoebe,” he explained. “We can’t be found together, not yet at least. We will both be punished greatly if that happens.”
Her fingers lightly caressed his muscled naked arms. “Are we ever going to be free of your family, Duncan?”
Lifting himself off her, he stood and began to dress. “I need to find somewhere for you to escape to until this is all finished, Phoebe. I need to make sure you will be safe no matter what happens.”
Sitting up on the mattress, she pulled the sheet around her, covering her nakedness. “You don’t always have to play my protector, Duncan. I have ways and means of taking care of myself.”
Going to her he kissed her hard and fast on the lips. “That may be so, but I will still make sure you are safe. I will send a man to collect you as soon as I can find a safe place for you.”
* * * * *
Watching Duncan leave, Phoebe couldn’t stop the slight hope growing inside of her that maybe he loved her enough for her to take her away from the hell that had become her life. Standing from the bed, she began to dress herself, and fix her hair. Though she knew it foolish, she found herself daring to dream of a better life far away from the harmful hands of her husband and instead in the passionate embrace of Duncan.
He kept saying he wanted to protect her, to keep her safe until he was finished what he was doing. But what was he doing? She wondered if all of this was why he had returned to the family business. Surely Duncan realised he was only one man fighting against a whole company full of evil men with most of the authorities on their payroll.
Still Phoebe’s heart fluttered in the knowledge that he was the only man who had showed her any kindness. Her heart fluttered even now, the feelings he created in her still swimming close to the surface.
Her appearance righted, she stopped at the door, her hand resting on the handle. She didn’t want to go back out there, not to her husband and not to watch Duncan with his fiancée so soon after feeling his embrace against her naked skin. Still she knew it must be done or else suspicion would be raised and she in turn would pay dearly at the hands of her husband.
Walking back out to the dancehall, Phoebe stopped at the edge of the crowd, her eyes skimming the gatherers. She noticed Gordon standing with a well-dressed woman, looking very occupied, his fingers rubbing her forearm suggestively. Across the hall a bit, she noticed, too, Duncan standing with his father, both looking back in the direction of her husband.
She wondered what was happening, but she feared whatever it was would not end well for her should she stick her nose into business that was obviously to do with The Lester Company.
She didn’t like knowing the man she loved worked for such evil people, but she knew she could do little more than trust he knew what he was doing for both their best interests.
* * * * *
Leaving the room before Phoebe, Duncan walked back into the dancehall knowing he would much rather still be snuggled up to the naked beauty he’d left behind . Still he knew he was required to bid his father goodnight before he left for the evening and ask if there was anything else he was needed to do. Walking past the many dancers crowding the floor, he caught sight of his brother standing with Andrew Ross’s wife, his fingers stroking her hand affectionately. Knowing all that was being put at stake, Duncan immediately went to his father.
“Gordon is going to ruin everything, Father.” He pointed at them. “If Andrew sees him trying to seduce his wife, he will do more than just try to back out of the contract.”
Following his father over to Gordon, Duncan prepared himself for the onslaught that usually came from correcting Gordon’s actions.
“Excuse me, Mrs Ross,” Charles said politely. “I need a word with my son.”
Grabbing hold of Gordon’s jacket, the old man pulled his son behind him, with Duncan close in tow. Finally the three men came to a stop near the door leading into the house.
“What do you think you are doing, Gordon?” Charles asked his son sternly. “You were told to stay away from the Ross’s.”
Gordon downed the last of his drink. “I am doing what I see fit, for myself and for the business. This is my company too, Father.”
“Not anymore it isn’t,” the old man said suddenly. “You’re fired, Gordon.”
Stepping away from his dumbfounded son, Charles turned to Duncan standing a few feet away.
“I’m going to tell Mr Ross what has happened and I’ll have word sent out to the others we deal with. In future, anything and everything will go through you, Duncan, and only you.”
“Phoebe needs to be warned,” he blurted out, his concern for her wellbeing growing. “You know Gordon’s wrath, Father. Surely you must know that he uses that poor woman as his punching bag when things are not going his way.”
His father nodded and began walking in the direction of where Phoebe stood on the edge of the dance floor. They were barely a few feet away from her when Gordon walked up to his wife, and grabbing her harshly by the wrist, pulled her behin
d him out of the hall.
“It appears that young woman is to find out about her husband’s dismissal soon enough, Duncan.”
He went to go after her, but his father reached out stopping him. “She isn’t your affair, Duncan and you will not interfere. You have family business to attend to.”
He nodded begrudgingly“As you say, Father.”
Waiting until his father had gone for a drink, he reached for one of the servants.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked them. “Do you think you can find my carriage?”
The young woman nodded nervously.
“Go tell my driver that a woman named Phoebe needs him immediately. He will know what to do next.”
The young woman nodded and rushed off out of the hall to do what was bid of her.
* * * * *
The next morning Duncan stood out the back of his station house drinking his cup of coffee when David Pola come to a stop beside him, a steaming cup also in his hands.
“I need you to find out some more information for me, David, on an Irish man called Andrew Ross who deals mostly in smuggling.”
David nodded. “That shouldn’t be too hard to do, Duncan.”
Reaching in his pocket, David pulled forth a folded piece of paper and handed it to him.
He read the names listed on the piece of paper and the amounts beside them.
“Debts owed by your brother and by The Lester Company.”
Duncan nodded his thanks, throwing the remaining coffee from his cup onto the grass.
“You’re coming with me today, David,” he ordered, turning to go back into the house. “I know the men on this list and I fear they may need some persuasion to call in these debts. Persuasions I’m not willing to perform.”
Tying their horses up at the Burdekin Inn, the two men walked inside.
“What can I get you gents?” the bartender asked casually.
“I need to see the boss about some money that’s owed,” Duncan exclaimed.