A Major of Marnie (Miss Robin's Academy Book 3)
Page 13
She quickly bent forward and gave Marnie a kiss on the cheek.
Marnie was shocked. Mrs. Jones was one of the coldest, strictest chaperones, not prone to embraces of any kind. She felt strangely moved by the small show of affection.
She ate all of her plain breakfast, relishing the feeling of a clean pair of drawers against her bare skin, with no bulky cloth nappy constantly reminding her of its presence. She sat through morning lessons attentively, learning quickly, now that her teachers had her full attention.
When the time for visitation grew near, Mrs. Jones took Marnie back to her room to change her clothing. Typically, Miss Robin's students wore plain white gowns when on their rare excursions. But on this occasion, a riding habit—a firm, basque-bodiced jacket and long skirt in a sober deep blue, as well as riding boots and gloves—had been found for Marnie to borrow. On seeing it, a little thrill rose in her heart.
"I expect you to keep this habit in good order today, Miss Stowe," Mrs. Jones said. "It is on loan and not yours to spoil."
"Yes, Mrs. Jones," Marnie said.
She wasn't truly paying attention to what her chaperone said. Her mind was already outside, running, galloping as far away as she could possibly go.
It had been arranged that the major would come for Marnie before the other men arrived for general visitation and private visits. Marnie sat next to Mrs. Jones on a bench in the academy's entrance hall. She tried not to fidget, resisting the urge to loosen the tight chignon Mrs. Jones had wound at the nape of her neck. The other Privettes were in the parlour waiting quietly with their chaperones. Suddenly, there was a sound of hooves on the drive.
A queasy flutter rose from Marnie's stomach up to her chest. She quivered all over with nerves. For weeks, she had been patiently waiting for this moment. But now that the moment had arrived, she felt strangely afraid.
When there was a heavy knock at the door, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
An attendant rushed to open the door, letting the bright afternoon sunshine flood the entrance hall. Marnie squinted against the light. She could only see a dark silhouette, at first. When an attendant closed the door, it took her eyes a moment to adjust.
The major's image reappeared to her in full colour. She was struck by how she both remembered his features well and found that their peculiarities impressed her freshly once again—the green and gold flecks in his brown eyes, the bump in his nose, his full mouth and the pleasing creases that framed it. He was undeniably handsome in his long riding boots, tight cream trousers and a long deep green riding coat, the colour of which set off the warm tan of his skin. Everything about him shone with health and freshness.
He bowed. "Miss Stowe," he said.
"You're late," she replied.
Mrs. Jones clucked her tongue in warning.
"Blame Bess," he said. "She was in a mood today. I see she's not the only one."
Marnie went to make a retort but checked herself. Mrs. Jones was still nearby, and Marnie was well aware that the privilege she had worked so hard to attain could be snatched away from her at any moment.
"Well," Major Chance said. "Shall we go?"
Marnie rose and took his arm. As she did so, she caught his scent—the now familiar smell of cedar and oak moss, with a hint of spice beneath it.
"Have her back here no later than sundown," Mrs. Jones said, folding her arms.
"Of course, Mrs. Jones," said the major.
"In one piece, if you please," the chaperone said, watching him closely.
He gave Mrs. Jones a nod and then, together, he and Marnie stepped over the academy's threshold and into the afternoon sunshine.
An attendant was at the bottom of the stone steps leading up to Miss Robin's front door, holding the major's horse by the bridle—but only barely. The horse was snorting and tossing her head, her tail flicking irritably.
"Here she is," he said. "My darling girl. Hush now, Bessie. What are you doing, eh? What's gotten into you today?"
He took the bridle from the attendant and placed one hand on the animal's neck. Bess let out one final irritated snort before her head stilled.
Marnie stood still. Her heart swelled. Bess was an absolutely magnificent horse. She was large for a mare and such a dark brown that she was almost black, with a long white blaze down the forehead. Her coat shone like glass.
"Come over and say hello," the major said.
Marnie did not have to be asked twice. She went over and stood beside him.
"She's beautiful," Marnie said. "Just beautiful!"
Her face broke into a wide smile. Watching the animal's muscles move beneath her pelt, smelling her good oaty smell, hearing the little grumbles she made.
Without thinking, she raised a hand and laid it on the animal's neck. Bess's head turned with alarming speed and, before the major could pull her back, she nipped Marnie on the forearm, getting a mouthful of Marnie's blue riding jacket.
"Oh!" cried Marnie in surprise.
"Bess! You monster," said the major, affection never leaving his voice. "You really are a terror. Miss Stowe—she hasn't hurt you, has she? I warned you—she's a jealous girl. If she thinks I'm fond of anyone but her, she tends to act out rather abominably."
The horse snorted as if in agreement.
"I'm fine," said Marnie. "I don't mind."
Then Marnie noticed a detail she hadn't seen before. It was the riding crop he held under his arm—a long, elegant thing with a carved, cream-coloured handle. The major saw her looking and smiled.
"A gift from the man who bought Bess for me," he said. He whisked it through the air. "Twenty-four inches, Malacca cane, with an antler-horn handle and a gold-crested mount."
Marnie swallowed. "It's very fine," she said.
The major chuckled. "Far too fine for my tastes," he said. "But a gift is a gift. I never use it on her," he added, inclining his head towards Bess. "I've never had to."
The sight of the crop made Marnie's quim begin to pulse. She blushed. Seeking to distract herself, she held up the back of her hand for Bess to sniff, then, once the horse had caught her scent, stroked her firmly down the neck. She was happy and relieved when Bess accepted her touch.
"Right, now stand here," the major said, pointing in front of the saddle. Marnie went to grab the saddle, fully intending to pull herself up onto Bess's back.
"No, no, Miss Stowe—we must remember our manners," the major said. He winked at her and gestured to the academy. "Sidesaddle for you, my dear. Stand facing me."
Marnie set her mouth into a displeased line, but she did as she was asked. The major seized her waist and lifted her, placing her into the capacious man's saddle secured to Bess's back. He placed Marnie towards the pommel of the saddle and swung up easily behind her. The effect was that Marnie found herself all but sitting in his lap, his arms around her as he took the reins and encouraged Bess to start walking.
Marnie glanced down at the crop in his hand, then looked away.
"Where are we going?" asked Marnie after they had left the school gates.
"Not as far as I'd like," the major said. "But we shall make do."
Marnie was happy to sit in companionable silence during the ride, which took them through Regent's Park and then at a trot past Primrose Hill towards Hampstead Heath. She enjoyed the smell of horsehair and horse sweat; she was glad to have the sun on her back and to be outside filling her lungs with fresh air.
Eventually, they reached the Heath. Though her family had often visited London, Marnie had never been there before, had never realised that in the close confines of the city, among its dirt and crowds and parlours and ballrooms, there was such a wide, pleasing expanse of nature.
The major spurred Bess with his heels and she broke into a canter, causing Marnie, who always felt off-balance riding sidesaddle, to clutch his waist in order to steady herself.
Once she grew used to the rhythm of Bess's movements, however, Marnie relaxed and began to enjoy the speed, the feel of the gentle slope beneat
h her, the groan of the leather saddle, the sound of the taller grasses whipping past the horse's fetlocks. Oh, how she had missed this!
They stopped at the top of a rise, allowing Marnie to survey the calm, broad expanse of the heath, its rolling hills and long lush grass.
The major hopped down from Bess and lifted Marnie from the saddle, ignoring her protestations.
"I thought you might enjoy a walk," he said.
Together, they walked beside a large pond that glittered in the sunlight. Marnie was glad to stretch her legs and glad of the company of Bess, who Major Chance led by the reins.
But it wasn't long before Marnie's thoughts ran to a bone she had been longing to pick with him. "I must ask you something," she blurted out.
The major inclined his head and raised an eyebrow. "Please."
"At the party..." she said. "My sisters. They were being beastly to me."
"I don't know about 'beastly'. Bess is a beast. She wouldn't dream of behaving in such a manner."
He scratched the horse's ears affectionately, and Bess butted her head against his shoulder.
Marnie's irritation started to bubble up. "So you did see?" she cried. "Why didn't you say anything or do anything? I was—I was mortified!"
"There was nothing to say or do," replied the major calmly. "To try to do so would have been to cause a scene. It would have changed nothing for the better."
"It would have made me feel better."
"Perhaps for an instant. But then, there would have been a dreadful awkwardness to overcome—which might take months or even years."
"So they may act however they wish, and I am not to react? Not ever? No matter how childish or rude or selfish they are?"
"It's what we are called to do as members of polite society. Not that I'd nominate myself as a member of polite society. But for the moment, I'm passing for one, and for that to continue, these are the rules by which I must abide."
"That's outrageous."
"Not outrageous. Complex, certainly. Absurd—perhaps. But we do not manage those who would vex us by descending to their level, Miss Stowe."
"But Elspeth was—she was—" Marnie could not think of a polite way to say it. "Throwing Lippy in your way!"
At this, the major laughed outright. "Honestly, Marnie, you should find it in your heart to pity your sisters, not to rage at them."
"Pity!" Marnie cried. "How can you speak of pity? They have not been all but disowned by my father—they have not been sent away to suffer punishment and degradation..."
She stopped when she caught the major's expression.
"I wouldn't call it degradation," he said. "I've always thought of it as discipline."
It was so sunny that Marnie had not noticed the silvery clouds gathering in the sky. She was surprised when a light rain began to fall. It soon went from a fine mist to a steady patter of drops. It wasn't long before a drenching rain was falling. Other people on the heath were running, scattering this way and that, holding jackets and books above their heads.
A smile played about the major's lips. "Time we sought some shelter, I should think," he said.
He took off his coat and flung it around Marnie's shoulders, before lifting her back into the saddle and swinging up behind her. He guided Bess out of the heath and back onto a road. Again, they were in a well-to-do neighbourhood, passing street after street of fine villas that appeared blurry and vague to Marnie through the driving rain.
"Are we returning to the academy?" Marnie asked.
"No, Miss Stowe. We are not," Major Chance replied.
When they turned into one particularly grand villa, Marnie felt a wave of apprehension. Surely, they were not going to be paying a visit to some tedious friend or acquaintance? She would much rather stay outside and be soaked to the skin!
He rode Bess down the side of the house, into the garden.
"This house belongs to my friend and patron, a former general," he said. "You needn't worry—no-one is in residence. The family will not return until next week."
He helped Marnie to dismount and directed her to wait for him at the top of the stone steps at the rear of the house, where there was a wide, covered terrace. Marnie watched as he took Bess through the lush garden to the stables. He then joined her at the top of the stairs, a dark smile on his face. The riding crop was still under his arm.
"Over here, Miss Stowe," he said.
The terrace was a wide expanse of pale grey stone; but the lady of the house, thinking to make the most of the space despite London's grim weather, had arranged to have one half of the terrace encased in glass, creating a kind of sunroom. It was into this space that Major Chance walked Marnie.
She entered, and though the sunroom was warmer than the terrace, she shivered.
It was a pleasing, if Bohemian space. There were potted palms, red Turkish rugs, and an array of rattan and cane furniture. A fireplace and brick chimney had been installed.
"The general's wife fancies herself quite an artist. She likes to paint out here, she says, though I have the distinct impression it is used much more often to host parties."
Major Chance slipped his riding coat from Marnie's shoulders and cast it over a chair. He placed the crop nearby.
"Make yourself at home, Miss Stowe," he said.
Marnie slipped off her wet boots and sat on a long cane sofa in front of the fireplace, feeling suddenly shy. She focused on the intricate floral pattern on the turquoise blue rug beneath her feet. Rain thrummed on the roof. The cloud cover had thickened, and the light in the sunroom was cool and diffuse.
The major went to the fireplace and had soon stacked it with logs and kindling. He struck flint and steel over the tinder, and in a matter of moments, the fire was roaring.
Major Chance stood. He walked to the sofa where Marnie sat, reached out and traced the high collar of her riding habit with his fingers, before hooking two of them into its front and pulling her up to where he stood.
He pulled her tight against his body and pressed his lips to hers. He parted her lips with his tongue and then pushed it deep into Marnie's mouth, while one hand roamed down her body, from her throat, to her small, pert bust, to rest on the curve of her hip.
Marnie let out a small mewl. There had been a faint throbbing in her quim ever since she had been sitting more or less on the major's lap, feeling the gentle rhythm of Bess's walk. Now, she felt the intensity of that throbbing, that heat, rise quickly. She felt that all her blood surged to the centre of her body, and the need she felt was so great, it caused a swelling ache, at once sweet and painful.
She met the major's force and pushed her body into his. She could feel the length of his cock, thick and rigid against her thigh.
Suddenly, he broke off from kissing her. He looked into her eyes, and she could see that though they were usually warm and full of good humour and animation, something was different now. They glowed, but there was a hardness to them; they were like tiger's-eye stones she had marvelled at when she was a child.
"Let's get you out of these wet clothes," he said.
Major Chance had soon removed her riding jacket and her skirt and petticoats, leaving her in her under bust corset and the thin chemise.
He unhooked the covered buttons on the straps of her chemise. He peeled the thin fabric down as far as her under bust corset, revealing her pale-golden breasts, the dark nipples almost the colour of cherries now that they were ruched and firm.
He turned her and removed her corset, also soaked through with rain. Finally, he allowed her chemise and drawers to fall to the floor. Marnie had already removed her boots; she was left standing only in her white silk stockings.
"I have been reliably informed that you have been a model student these past weeks, Miss Stowe," Major Chance said. "I think it's time you show me what you've learned."
With this, he stepped back and peeled off his waistcoat and cravat before unbuttoning his shirt. He did not remove his long boots, but merely unbuttoned his tight trousers.
It was only the afternoon, but the clouds were causing the dim room to darken. Marnie could see the rain on their bodies turning to steam and evaporating from their skin.
The major placed one hand on her shoulder and pressed down. Marnie, following his lead, allowed herself to be lowered to the floor. She lay flat on her back. Major Chance knelt in between her legs, bent his head to her chest and took one of her nipples, tight and pebbled with arousal, into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue before taking more of her breast into his mouth and suckling.
Marnie moaned and her back arched. The major moved his attentions to her other breast, meanwhile sliding his hand down to cup her sex. He used his fingers to spread her and growled in satisfaction when he felt how slick she had already become.
When he probed the virgin entrance to her quim with a finger, she let out a small moan. She tensed around him, but he pushed one thick finger inside all the way to the knuckle. Marnie gasped at the feeling, the sudden pain, the stretch she felt.
The major looked up at her, his gaze boring into her eyes.
"Soon enough, I will take you here," he said, sliding his finger in and out in a way that made her both wince and pant for more. "I often think contentedly of the day when I will open up your beautiful quim and breach your maidenhead. But as much as I would like for today to be that day, I have made a vow to preserve your virtue, and—in so far as my word is concerned—I consider myself a gentleman. Other pleasures, however, are readily available. And, of these, I intend to take full advantage."
As he was speaking, his thumb had found Marnie's pearl. Gently, he lifted its hood and began circling it again and again, until her cream was flowing freely and she felt certain she would burst.
Just as she thought she could not bear any more of the torturous press of his fingers, they moved away—slipped out of her and then moved downwards.