Phantasmagoria

by Madelynne Ellis

  ‘I thought you liked her innocent.’

  The damp cloth of his shirt peeled away slowly as she pushed a hand beneath his shirt. Through the sodden lawn she could make out a dark patch of hair and the glint of gold. The metal lay warm in her hand a moment, then her fingers closed tight about it and she tugged.

  The catch gave and the chain slithered over the back of her hand.

  Vaughan grabbed for it, but too late. ‘Give it back.’

  Bella jerked away from him. ‘You can have it once you’ve given me what I want.’

  ‘Don’t be foolish, Bella. Give it back.’

  She laughed and sprinted into the long grass, the golden locket clasped tight within her hand. She knew he’d follow. The precious oval was his link to Lucerne. Lucerne – who probably didn’t even know of its existence. She was the only person who knew just how much it meant to him.

  Yellowing grass and wildflowers lashed at her bare legs as she ran. The hem of her shift worked itself loose of her stays and tumbled, clammy and cold, over her nakedness to lap at her ankles. Still she ran, until her chest felt tight and her stomach cramped with fatigue.

  He caught her at the field boundary and tipped her over a drystone wall on her stomach. ‘ Give me that.’

  ‘Take me like a woman first,’ she teased, holding the locket out of reach on the far side of the wall.

  ‘I’ll do more than swive you if you don’t hand it over.’ Voice hoarse from running, his words carried the force of his anger, something his palm carried through a mere moment later as his hand came down hard across her rear.

  Bella jerked in shock as the pain flared across her cheeks and indignation coloured her face. He landed another, and she kicked, causing her wet chemise to pull taut across her bottom.

  ‘Give me the pendant.’

  ‘Give me your prick, my lord.’

  Heat bloomed and spread out from the point of impact of his palm. Each successive smack stole her breath and raised a delayed squeal.

  Her nipples hardened, steepled against the cold rocks. Moans of agony transformed into pants of pure longing. As the rocks dug into her belly, her desire to come only increased.

  Cold air bathed her heated skin as he raised her shift. ‘You’re very wet,’ he remarked. ‘Not to mention a particularly lovely shade of fuchsia.’ His palm spread her wide and brushed up between her thighs. Juicy and open, she responded to his touch with more moisture.

  Bella felt her breath mist before her face as her heart beat a cacophony against the stone wall beneath her. She felt empty, craved the feeling of him hard between her legs, filling her, bringing sweet fulfilment.

  ‘The locket,’ he demanded.

  ‘No,’ she hissed.

  Vaughan stuck his thumb up her arse, all pretence of niceties gone. ‘Don’t play with me, Bella.’ Her nipples rubbed the rough stone. Vaughan pushed another finger into her cunt alongside the two already giving her pleasure.

  ‘I’m not asking for much.’ She wriggled against the intrusion as if a torture such as this would ever persuade her. Didn’t he know her by now? It sometimes shamed her but she revelled in his style of torment.

  ‘And I’m not playing.’ Another finger, another push. ‘ Give me the locket, Bella, or I’m going to stick my whole hand in there.’

  Bella spluttered her next words, a curse, onto the grass. How would that make her feel? Would it fill her as well as his cock? Was it even a punishment, when his fingers brought such pleasure? She couldn’t stop herself groaning. Four fingers slipped in and out of her with incredible ease.

  ‘Such effort,’ she teased. ‘Using your cock would have been much easier and we’d both have reaped the rewards.’

  Vaughan folded his thumb alongside his fingers and pushed, not very far, but enough for her to feel him stretching her. ‘Vaughan,’ she whimpered.

  ‘Last chance to surrender.’

  Bella lifted her hand and let the chain slide through her fingers. It swung merrily at the extent of its chain, just out of reach. ‘I’ll take my punishment.’

  ‘Damn you!’

  No doubt his face was like thunder, a dark brooding mask, enough to scare most people into submission, but not her.

  He cupped his thumb to his fingers and swived her with the length of his fingers, not really giving what he’d promised at all. The pleasure was diverting, but more infuriating than intense. Each stroke promised, but didn’t quite deliver. What she wanted was deep and rough, not slow and cautious. The pace made her buck. Vaughan licked a trail of sweat from her tailbone, his breath rasping against her splayed cheeks.

  ‘Are you hard?’ she gasped.

  ‘Like iron.’

  Her breath hitched. ‘Please, Vaughan.’ They both needed this. What was the point in this endless denial? To her surprise, he slowly withdrew his fingers, allowing her to roll off the wall and onto her back with her thighs spread. As if gripped by an unfathomable dilemma, his face was hard, eyes glittering, not with obvious passion but something brittle. Bella held his gaze, the locket poised above her breasts. She let the chain run into his open palm which was still sticky with her juices.

  ‘Please.’

  Despite her pretty pout, Vaughan shook his head, although he drove his hard lips against her soft yielding ones. ‘You want this. You want me,’ she hissed when he allowed her a moment to breathe.

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘But unless you tie me down I’ll deny it. I can restrain myself.’

  ‘Why?’ What was the point? ‘Vaughan, for God’s sake, and for mine.’ She’d never take him by force. The last time she’d tried it had taken several grown men to restrain him. She rubbed her glistening pubis against the ridge of his erection, felt him leap and stiffen at the contact, but instead of rousing him to action, it prompted him to pull away.

  Vaughan sank onto his knees between her thighs and blew a long intimate whisper across her clit. ‘No,’ she sobbed, feeling her body spark. A single touch of his tongue was all it took to push her over and set her thrashing.

  When she reopened her eyes, Vaughan was above her once more, the locket back in place around his neck. He blinked slowly and she looked into his violet eyes as confused as ever. Why? The question stuck on her tongue. ‘When did you last come?’ she asked instead.

  Vaughan shrugged. He straightened and began to smooth his clothes. ‘Dinner last night, by your hand as I recall.’

  ‘And before that?’

  ‘In the pantry.’

  ‘Not with de Maresi?’

  He shook his head. Bella tweaked some grass from the gaps in the wall and twirled it in her fingers, contemplating his answer, confounded by his intentions.

  ‘Doesn’t he make you feel?’ she asked.

  The question earned her another shrug.

  Wet petticoats tumbled into place and stuck to her legs as she stood. She ran her hand over the lozenge-shaped swell of his cock, clasped tight by his figure-hugging pantaloons. ‘Adds up to a lot of self-denial,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure it’s good for you.’

  Expertly, she freed his erection and ran teasing fingers over his tip. She felt his back go rigid, watched his jaw lock, but he didn’t push her away and he came very quickly.

  ‘He’ll come,’ she whispered into his hair as he further messed her chemise with the culmination of her efforts. ‘He loves you.’ She didn’t add that she felt the same way. There was little point; it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

  They went back to the boathouse after that and gathered their wet clothes. ‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ Vaughan said, on reaching the gatehouse. ‘I have business to see to.’

  The ladies were gathered in the great hall as Bella was on her way to her room. Aunt Beatrice took one look at Bella’s wet gown and dismissed her with an imperious frown. Bella marched up to the stairs not caring one whit. The Allenthorpes and their annoying chaperone could think of her what they liked. That she had Vaughan was what mattered. She just wished for his sake, that he had Lucerne. It seemed he need
ed that comfort.

  14

  AS EXPECTED, BELLA didn’t see Vaughan again until dinner that evening, where she was forced to endure another of Fortuna’s eyelash-fluttering overtures. Quite unexpectedly, the girl had conjured a scarlet dress cut in the very latest style. It sheathed her slender figure to perfection, enhancing delicate curves. To Bella’s relief, Vaughan hadn’t noticed as he was too busy ducking her feathered headdress.

  He was perfectly turned out in charcoal Florentine silk, which emphasised his broad shoulders and slender waist. Bella drank down the sight of him, wishing she’d had the presence of mind to bring a few more dresses with her from London.

  ‘Can’t say as I’m much for feathers,’ said Raffe, slipping into the seat to Bella’s left. ‘Damned ticklish, and the red’s a little brazen.’

  ‘I thought you liked brazen.’

  Raffe considered this as he unfurled his napkin. ‘There’s brazen, and then there’s shameless. She’s trying too hard which is precisely the reason she’s failing. He likes a challenge.’

  ‘Don’t all men?’ Bella asked, still observing the pair.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. I wouldn’t object to you throwing yourself at me.’

  Rolling her eyes, Bella picked up her knife and fork. ‘It won’t happen.’ She tucked into the meal before her, ignoring the complaints and endearments he delivered through a mouthful of peas.

  ‘Viscount Marlinscar,’ Foster announced. The words didn’t register until she heard the great iron-pinned door swing closed. That end of the hall was in near darkness but a single glance at Vaughan confirmed what her eyesight alone couldn’t. Lucerne had arrived.

  Vaughan’s eyes burned with anticipation. His lips, normally red, seemed swollen with the expectation of kisses.

  The rest of the table noticed him rising and followed suit. Vaughan stilled the scraping of chairs with a imperious flick of his wrist. ‘Enjoy,’ he said, strolling towards his lover.

  Bella strained to witness their reunion.

  Lucerne was in the shadows below the stairs. Vaughan curbed the urge to run, forcing himself to walk. Three weeks. It’d been too long, but the relief now he’d arrived. He couldn’t express it, not in company. Ever since he’d left London, he’d longed for this moment. The moment when everything fell into place again.

  It had been imperative that he’d woken Bella to the realities of their relationship, and given Lucerne a jolt, but more important still to remove them to the country. London was draining their vitality. Here at Pennerley, he could make things right again. With or without Bella. Except …

  Foster applied a taper to the guttered candles and light spilled over Lucerne’s golden hair. He glowed, and Vaughan feasted upon the sight of him. Despite the coach journey, he was resplendent in caped greatcoat and every bit as angelically perfect as the first time they’d met.

  ‘Lucerne.’ Somehow he made his voice sound normal. He politely extended a hand, though what he wanted to do was push the stupid bugger against the wall and toss him into a state of feverish excitement, to lock their bodies together and fill him and never let go.

  ‘Vaughan.’ Lucerne’s voice carried an unexpected edge. ‘Is Bella here? I need to find her.’

  Bella! Vaughan’s eyes narrowed, all this time apart and he thought of her first. The jealousy he never managed to kill licked flames beneath his skin. He should make him wait until after dinner, but he had no appetite any more, if he’d had any to begin with.

  He guessed that Lucerne sensed his anger, for he leaned a fraction closer. ‘It’s not what you think, Vaughan.’ His chest rose with a heavy sigh. ‘I have pressing news for her.’

  ‘So pressing it won’t wait a minute or two?’ Vaughan nodded for Foster to open the door, and he backed Lucerne outside and up against the kitchen wall. ‘We have pressing matters of our own.’

  Lucerne stiffened, but not in a good way. His blue eyes gleamed with spellbinding intensity. ‘I’m not here for this,’ he growled.

  ‘Aren’t you?’ Vaughan tenderly traced his fingertips over the curve of Lucerne’s cheek. He leaned in for a kiss, but Lucerne turned his head away.

  ‘Bella first.’

  The rebuke hurt more than any physical slap. Bella. Always destined to come between them. ‘Very well.’ He drew back. ‘Miss Rushdale,’ he yelled. Their eyes locked upon one another, unspeaking until she came, then he retreated inside and shut the door on the pair of them.

  * * *

  Bella stared uneasily at the studded door before turning to Lucerne. She didn’t look at him. Vaughan was angry which didn’t bode well. He should have been happy to see Lucerne, as a tiny part of her was. She nipped out the glow of warmth. Lucerne would have to earn his forgiveness. He had to understand how deeply she’d been hurt before she once again gave in to her desire for him.

  Determined to make the few moments alone count, Bella swished passed him across the darkened courtyard to the curtain wall. Only a thin sliver of daylight remained as a yellow-pink band fell across the base of the valley. The air smelled of faded summer and the coming frost. Her nose twitched as he came up behind her.

  ‘Bella.’ Lucerne placed his greatcoat around her shoulder. Ever the gentleman, she thought, tempted to shake it off. Practicality won out. It was too cold to be outside in just a muslin dress. Besides, the wool was warm and fragrant and her anger had faded in the week since their parting. She wanted an apology from him but, more importantly, she wanted everything right between the three of them again. Vaughan needed him, which meant she did too.

  ‘You said you wouldn’t come.’

  A cold leather glove curled around her shoulder. ‘I know. Nothing’s changed in that respect. I still need time … It’s not why I came.’

  The lack of an apology rankled. Incensed, she turned and struck him hard about the ear. The impact stung her palm but it made her feel better. It was what she should have done the night she left. ‘Time to cosset Miss St John,’ she hissed. ‘How dare you come here and expect me to even see you?’

  Lucerne flinched, but it was hard to tell if it was at her words or the slap. To his credit, he didn’t try to rub away the sting.

  ‘You call yourself a gentleman but you don’t act like one. You let me walk into the night while you mated with a doxy.’

  ‘No!’ His fists locked around her wrists. ‘That’s not true. I looked for you.’ His posture was rigid. There was no freeing herself from him. ‘Listen to me. I didn’t come here to argue with you or Vaughan. A letter came …’

  ‘A letter?’ Struggles subsiding, she looked up at him with guarded interest.

  Time had changed him. Charcoal smudges shadowed the skin beneath his eyes and he was almost consumptive in his pallor, an effect not helped by the blackness of his clothing.

  He handed her a package of letters.

  Bella frowned in recognition of the familiar hand and the length of yellow ribbon that bound the papers together. ‘Why have you brought me these?’

  Unable to maintain eye contact, Lucerne stared at the polish on his own Hessians. ‘Wakefield’s returning to England. Louisa’s dead.’

  The spark of joy that leaped at the thought of being reunited with her friend was quenched equally abruptly, her exclamation of delight transformed into a howl of denial. ‘She can’t be … The baby?’

  ‘Is fine. A healthy girl.’ Lucerne’s grip slid reassuringly to her shoulders. In better times, he’d have crushed her with his embrace. ‘It was nothing to do with the birth. Wakefield said it was fever, very quick, very sudden. She was never the most robust …’ He shook his head, unable to complete the sentence. Instead, he thrust another letter upon her.

  Bella stared at the page but couldn’t focus on the words. ‘When did this come?’

  ‘I came home to it after I’d searched the whole of Mayfair and Marylebone for you. I left the moment I’d established you weren’t still in London. Then I knew I’d find you here.’ His voice cracked and he hauled in a shallow breath. ‘
I know how you feel about him. It’s been plain for a long time.’ His lips pressed tightly together. ‘I’m sorry. I should have talked to you sooner instead of trying to ignore it.’

  It was her turn to feel guilty. The shift in her affections was what this was all about. It had destroyed the balance in their relationship. Instead of Lucerne being pivotal, he’d become a pawn, a means of reaching Vaughan. His feelings had been pushed aside. He’d tried to tell her that too, but she hadn’t listened. ‘I’m sorry too.’

  Lucerne rubbed his thumb across her lips. ‘Has he been good to you, Bella? Has he given you what you want?’

  She shrugged. ‘He’s been Vaughan.’ Her lips felt dry and cracked, but wetting them would mean tracing Lucerne’s fingertip with her tongue. ‘It’s not me he wants. It never was or will be. He’s been waiting for you.’

  Uncertainty clouded his blue eyes. She watched him struggle through the mire of memories. There was still love there but it came at a high price. Could he stand being the object of Vaughan’s affections but not hers?

  ‘I’m sorry. He just …’ Lucerne pressed a silencing finger to her lips. In that moment, he looked so fragile and dreadfully alone.

  ‘I ought to go to him. Explain Wakefield’s loss, not that he’ll care.’

  ‘He liked Louisa.’

  ‘He hates Wakefield.’

  Bella’s eyes swam with tears, but she was too numb to stop them spilling. ‘When is he back?’ She sniffed.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Lucerne smeared the tears across her cheeks with his thumbs. ‘He’s coming to Lauwine. I’ll meet him there. If he goes to his sisters, they’ll oust him from the nursery and his daughter and then he’ll have nothing.’ Perhaps a fraction of the devastation Wakefield was surely feeling touched Lucerne’s pallid face. He dragged his hands through his hair. ‘I’ve made a mess of everything. I should have …’ He shook his head. ‘No.’ His gaze drifted to the grey stone of the great hall with its three majestic arched windows. Light gleamed through the shutters. His jaw set, grimly determined.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Bella.’ His mouth, warm and bitter, crushed hers. ‘ So, very, desperately sorry.’