When Michael’s lips moved away from her breasts, trailing kisses down her belly, it occurred to her that he might be planning to kiss her there. She had never considered such a thing before, but was now desperate for him to do exactly that. When his lips touched her warm, wet sex, she gasped. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced. His tongue was cool against her warm flesh, and as he moved it, she began to move her hips along with him.
Betsey felt tension building in her body, and squeezed her hands, grasping the sheets tightly. She cried out in pleasure, not knowing, or caring, if anyone could hear her. Just when she thought she could stand it no longer, Michael stopped what he was doing and looked up at her from between her legs.
“I love you, Betsey,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“I love you, too, Michael,” she said, her voice breathless.
He was moving back up her body, so that now his face was just above hers. Michael kissed Betsey once again, and she tasted herself on his lips. It was a strange, but pleasant sensation, and as she considered this, she realized that she could feel him, stiff with desire, pressed against her belly.
Running her hands down his torso, Betsey soon found his cock, large, and hard, and pulsating in her hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze, and Michael moaned. “Please,” he whispered hoarsely.
Betsey adjusted the position of her hips, so that they lined up with his, and slowly guided him as he entered her. She was slick with desire, and wanted desperately to feel him inside of her, but even so, she felt a brief moment of pain and cried out when Michael first slipped inside of her.
Michael stopped immediately, and looked searchingly at Betsey. “Are you all right, my love? Have I hurt you?” he asked, sounding horrified at the very possibility.
“No, darling,” Betsey said, the pain already receding. “Please do not stop, I do not want you to stop!”
Michael sighed in relief, thrusting his hips forward until he was fully inside of her, and then they began to move their hips together in a rhythm that seemed to come naturally to both of them.
After a few minutes, Betsey felt the tension building up in her body once again, but this time, when she felt sure that she could not stand it any longer, Michael did not stop what he was doing.
Michael continued to move his hips, thrusting deep inside of her, and Betsey felt a wave of pleasure such as she had never felt before. She cried out, clinging desperately to her husband, wrapping her legs around him as well as her arms. It had been only a moment, then Michael cried out in pleasure as well. He convulsed on top of her and Betsey felt his seed inside of her.
They fell asleep naked and sweating, arms and legs entangled in the sheets. When they awoke in the morning, they were so delighted by the sight of one another that they made love twice more before leaving the room for breakfast. Betsey felt certain that she was the happiest lady in all of England.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Betsey and Michael had returned from their honeymoon tour just a few months ago, but a great deal had happened in that time. Betsey had finally met her father-in-law at the ball that the Countess of Hillfield held to introduce Betsey, the new Viscountess, to all of her society friends. She had found her father-in-law to be just as surly and unpleasant as Michael had said he would be. After meeting him, she began to understand why Michael had not been disappointed that his father did not attend their wedding.
Her mother-in-law, on the other hand, was a kind and friendly lady, who took Betsey under her wing and taught her everything that she needed to know about being an aristocratic wife. Betsey felt terribly sorry for the Countess, who had been married to the Earl of Hillfield for political reasons rather than for love. It seemed quite clear to Betsey that the Countess had never been happy in her marriage.
A month after they returned, Betsey and Michael attended the wedding of Lady Paulina to the Marquess of Portam. Their wedding was a much more lavish affair than Betsey and Michael’s had been, but Betsey was so happy for the couple that she hardly noticed the finery. The blissful smiles on the faces of the newlyweds brought joy to Betsey’s heart.
Betsey had always liked Lady Paulina and thought of her more as a friend than a mistress. Now that they were social peers, their friendship continued, and Betsey thought that it was strengthened by everything they had experienced together.
There was little time for Betsey and Michael to speak with the bride and groom at the wedding, but they were able to exchange a few words. Betsey was positively delighted to learn that, upon their return from their honeymoon, the Marquess and Marchioness of Portam would be living in London. Their new home would be just a few blocks away from the townhouse where Betsey and Michael had set up house in St. James’ Square.
In spite of her joy at this news, and her happiness for the couple, Betsey could not help but feel a bit uncomfortable at Lady Paulina and the Marquess’s wedding. Apart from the ball celebrating her own marriage, this was the first social event that Betsey had attended as a member of the aristocracy.
As a lady’s maid, she had been aware of the rules of etiquette governing events such as this one. She had also been enlisted, on more than one occasion, to practice various formal dances with Lady Paulina. However, she felt that it was entirely different to be a guest, and often felt unsure of what she ought to say or do.
Betsey stood at the edge of the dancefloor, nervously watching while other couples waltzed. It had been easier to dance at the masquerade ball, when no one had known who she was. Of course, she had been obliged to dance at the ball celebrating her own marriage as well, but she had been so busy as the guest of honor, that she hardly had time to think about what the guests might think of her.
Michael approached her, carrying two glasses of punch, and holding one out to her. She felt instantly more comfortable with her husband at her side, and a smile spread across her face. She took a glass from him, and sipped the delightfully sweet punch.
“Shall we dance, my darling?” Michael asked her, when they had finished their punch.
Betsey still felt a bit unsure, but Michael was a strong dance partner and she knew that he would lead her gracefully across the dancefloor. She took his hand, and they walked onto the dancefloor, just as the orchestra began the next song.
By the time Betsey and Michael left the wedding, she could hardly remember feeling nervous about the dancing. In truth, she need not have worried at all. Perhaps some of the other guests were watching her, and perhaps they were unimpressed by Betsey’s dancing skills.
Betsey found that once she was on the dancefloor with her husband, his arms holding her tight, she no longer cared what anyone else thought. Will I ever grow accustomed to society events, or shall I always feel nervous about them until Michael takes me in his arms? Betsey would consider this possibility at some future date, but for now she simply enjoyed dancing with her true love.
* * *
Betsey awoke a few days after Lady Paulina’s wedding, on a Tuesday morning, feeling refreshed after a good night of sleep, and delighted, as always, to see her husband sleeping beside her. As usual, she had awoken before him, and she took a moment to drink in the sight of his sleeping form, so perfect and peaceful. This morning, she moved her body closer to his, pressing it against him, and feeling him stir next to her.
It was early in the morning, and they would not need to eat breakfast for some time. Betsey thought that they might take advantage of this time in bed, before getting up and dressing for the day. It seemed that Michael had been thinking something similar, for he began to kiss Betsey, rolling her onto her back and getting on top of her. The weight of his body on her own was enough to drive Betsey wild with anticipated pleasure.
They made good use of their time, attempting to be quiet so as not to scandalize the servants, though only half-heartedly. Betsey could not help but cry out when Michael entered her, tension building in her and then spreading out through her body.
When they had finished making
love, Betsey and Michael remained in bed for an hour longer, gently caressing each other, studying each other’s bodies, and talking about nothing in particular. Betsey thought that these moments were the greatest joys she could ever imagine.
Michael had agreed to take her to meet Anne and Mabel today, and Betsey was eager for this excursion. She wanted to know Michael’s half-sister, and hoped that someday, when the child was older, they might be able to provide her with a good education.
Betsey had suggested the visit soon after they returned from their honeymoon, and Michael had agreed readily. They had been so busy with preparations for the ball celebrating their marriage, and with setting up house in town, that they had not had a chance to visit until today.
Betsey wondered what she ought to wear to the meeting. She was a Viscountess now, with a wardrobe full of beautiful gowns, and a maid to help her into them. She did not think it would be wise to dress ostentatiously when visiting a boarding house in Stepney.
In the end, she chose a gown of gray wool, with simple white embroidery at the bust and hem. Her maid, Alice, suggested a variety of accessories that she might wear with the gown, but Betsey chose a plain blue ribbon for her hair, and refused all other adornments. Her maid appeared to be disappointed in this decision, but Betsey felt sure that she would survive.
It seemed that Michael had been thinking along the same lines as Betsey, for he was dressed in a simple black jacket and tan breeches. He also explained to Betsey that they would be using their names, Mr. and Mrs. Calford, rather than their titles when visiting.
“I suppose it is not really necessary any longer—now that so many people know that I am Anne’s patron,” he said. “I needed to be cautious when I first began visiting, and it will be easier to continue as I have been.”
Betsey could see no reason to object to this—it was strange enough to be called “My Lady” and “Viscountess,” she did not see why this should be any stranger.
On the way to Stepney, Michael told Betsey about his visits to see Anne and Mabel over the years. They sat side by side in the back of the carriage, Betsey leaning her head on Michael’s shoulder as she listened to his stories.
“When last I was there, Mabel was beginning to crawl,” Michael said, smiling at the thought. “I think that her poor mother was about to lose her mind. Of course it has been several months now, she may be walking for all I know!”
Betsey smiled back at her husband. His love for his half-sister was infectious, and it reminded Betsey of why she loved him so much.
When they arrived at the boarding house, Betsey was pleased to see that, although the building was old, it appeared to be well maintained. The front stoop was swept clean, and the door appeared to be freshly painted. It opened quickly when Michael knocked.
“Hello, Mrs. Smith,” Michael said, when the landlady opened the door. “This is my wife, Mrs. Betsey Calford.”
“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Calford,” Mrs. Smith said, looking somewhat startled by their arrival.
Mrs. Smith invited Betsey and Michael into the drawing room and offered them tea while they waited for Anne and Mabel to join them. They waited only a few moments, and Betsey sipped her tea, enjoying the warmth after their damp and chilly carriage ride.
Anne entered the drawing room, carrying her child on her hip. She smiled at Michael and then looked curiously from him to Betsey.
“Hello, Anne,” Michael said with a smile. “May I introduce my wife, Mrs. Betsey Calford?”
“How do you do, My Lady?” Anne said, smiling at Betsey.
“I am well, thank you. And yourself?”
“I am quite well, My Lady! Mabel keeps me very busy.” She kissed Mabel on the cheek and placed her on the floor to play.
“Hello Mabel!” Betsey cooed, adopting the playful tone that people generally use with babies. Mabel cooed back at her, and then crawled a bit closer.
They visited with Anne and Mabel for about an hour, and Betsey found Anne to be a kind young woman, and Mabel to be a delightfully curious toddler. She asked Anne some questions about her life in the boarding house and was pleased to hear that Anne found her accommodations quite comfortable.
When their visit was finished, Michael and Betsey travelled from Stepney back to their townhouse in St. James’ Square by carriage. They were no longer newlyweds, but they still found reasons to touch each other, or hold hands whenever possible, and today’s carriage ride was no exception.
“Michael,” Betsey said after a few moments of silence.
“Yes, Betsey?”
“You are a good person. I hope that you know that.”
“Thank you, I do try to be a good person, but why do you say that, my darling?”
“Well, you take care of Anne and Mabel, even though you are not obligated to do so,” she said, thoughtfully. “They would be lost without you, and you were good enough to support them. Who knows what might have happened to them if not for you? There are many gentlemen who would have let them starve, you know.”
“I suppose there are, but I do not understand how such gentlemen can live with themselves, knowing that they have ruined someone else’s life, knowing that their child is out there somewhere but never taking care of them,” Michael scowled as he said this, and Betsey knew that he must be thinking of his own father, who had put Anne in this desperate situation and then callously refused to help her.
“Well, I suppose that they can live with themselves, because they are not good people,” Betsey said, in a matter-of-fact tone. “But I am certainly glad that you are more complicated than that.”
Michael smiled at Betsey, who hesitated a moment before continuing to speak.
“I am glad of it,” she said, her tone more serious now. “Because it is just the thing that will make you such a wonderful father.”
“Well, I shall hope to be a better father to my own children than my father was to me, when the time comes,” Michael said, casually.
“Michael,” Betsey said, giving him what she hoped was a meaningful look.
“What is it, Betsey?” he asked.
“It is time,” Betsey said.
Michael took a moment to comprehend what Betsey was saying to him. His eyes studied her face, a confused, searching look. Once the words and their meaning finally sunk in, his eyes widened in surprise and he looked at Betsey, raising his eyebrows to form the question.
A smile spread across Betsey’s face, as she placed her hand on her belly and nodded her head. Michael smiled back at her, placing his hand over hers.
“Oh Betsey,” he said, his tone ecstatic. “This is the most wonderful news!”
Michael leaned in closer to her, keeping his hand on hers over her belly. With his other arm, he pulled her toward him into a strong embrace. Betsey leaned into him, feeling happier than she had in her entire life.
The End?
Extended Epilogue
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Devilish Games of a Virtuous Lady
About the Book
He grabbed her in his arms and that's all she ever needed…
Traumatized by a past she dares not speak about, Letitia Caddy, daughter of the Baron of Mullins, has always been afraid of the outside world. Confronted with her father's decision to wed her to a man she has never met in her life, she decides to run away disguised as a commoner.
Widowed and a single father, Algernon Fletcher, Marquess of Radcliffe, is the epitome of propriety. When his daughter is rescued by a beautiful young maid, he can’t help but offer her a position in the household.
But even though their attraction is fierce, Letitia's secret ident
ity is threatening to ruin it all…
An unexpected guest bears shocking tidings and Letitia comes face to face with the harsh reality: not only are they all but mere pawns in a devious game of power, but the puppetmaster is one hiding in plain sight.
Chapter 1
The tale was a fine one. Pirates and mermaids and heroes with swords lashed to their belts.
Letitia Caddy smiled to herself as she pored over the book, picturing the sailing ship as it bucked across a turquoise sea. She had never truly seen the ocean—or sailing ships or pirates or heroes with swords in their belts for that matter—but she made her own image of them, brought to life by the words on the page. This was a world far more dashing and exciting and beautiful as the one in which she lived. The world that existed between the covers of her book, she was sure, was a place in which everyone lived happily ever after.
The Viscount Who Seduced Her (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 27