by Owner
safety did not ease her any. While she knew that she had no choice, she
railed against a fate that allowed a young woman to be trapped in such an
abhorrent manner. Lily pursed her lips and crossed her arms before her. The
self-comforting gesture brought some relief and she tightened them about
her, when the carriage came to a halt for no reason whatsoever.
Frowning, she was tempted to stick her head out of the window and to
inquire as to what was occurring, but the need for anonymity kept her silent,
and, within seconds, she knew the reason why they had come to a standstill.
Four women were shouting at the coachman and their lewd words made Lily
flush with laughter. They had obviously walked out in front of the carriage
without ascertaining if the road were safe or not. It seemed to Lily that the
women were at fault, but from their heated words, Lily judged that they did
not believe so.
It was another part of London that never failed to surprise her. The
cockney's impressive vocabulary had often made her laugh, where it sent
her aunt into a fit of blushes. Lily sometimes wondered how on Earth Aunt
Millie had made it to her age without hearing the imaginative curse words of
the native Londoners.
“Ga'on, yer bastard coachman! Almost knocked me bloody 'ead awf, yer did!
Bloody cheek!”
“Away with yer, yon women! Out of my sight!”
“Be damned to the dogs, yer pig!”
She grimaced as the carriage buckled a little, for what reason she did not
know, but soon rode off into the night. For at least thirty seconds more, the
women continued to rain curses on the coachman's head and Lily smiled
again. How she wished for the freedom to declare her anger to the world!
How she wished to have a voice that counted and truly meant something!
She laughed at the thought. Utopia, London was not and never would be. Of
that, Lily knew, but it did not stop her from wishing.
Unraveling her arms from the tight clasp around her waist, she pressed her
hands at either side of her lap and pushed herself higher up the seat. As she
did so, she inadvertently nudged something and winced as her dainty fingers
struck the wooden chest. She grimaced and curled her fingers to stretch
them, then reached for the box and placed it on her knee. Her fingers
rubbed the edges and she noticed it was engraved, but its decoration was
much less interesting than its contents, although it probably delivered
anything but good news! The thought prompted her to hover over the
decision of whether or not to open the damnable thing.
For a good three minutes, she hesitated and then slipped the lid from the
box. In the darkness it was rather difficult to see its contents and so she
held it up to the candle and saw a faint glimmer of something, what it was,
she didn't know. Frowning, she dug her hands into it and felt the slippery
sensation of material slide against her skin. Lifting it to the light once more,
she flinched.
What was this abomination?
She flinched once more as she let it drop to its full length and rather than
extinguish some of the light, it merely enhanced it! For the candle was quite
clearly visible through the silk chiffon!
Her mouth bobbed open and closed as she tried to assimilate what on Earth
it was. Or rather, as she tried to tell herself what it wasn't. But there was no
denying it. That bastard blackmailer obviously intended for her to wear this .
. . this . . . silken rag!
The nerve! The abominable cheek!
She screwed it up into a tight ball and threw it across the short breadth of
the carriage. It fell to the floor with a sinuous slithering sound and she
turned her head away from it. Lily was rather tempted to throw the entire
box across the carriage and damn the damage! But she managed to contain
that desire and instead, placed it opposite her on the seat. How she noticed
that a note still rested within its interior was a work of good fortune . . . not
on her part, but that of the blackmailer's. How she wished that she hadn't
seen it and that she could rebel against him in some small way. But see it
she had and she grabbed it and squinted as she read it:
The dress is of the latest fashion . . . for a Cyprian of that I assure you, my
Lady Mercer. Wear it beneath your cloak or your dearest Mama shall suffer.
Once the carriage comes to a halt, exit it and walk to the front door of the
house. Unlock it. The key is in the box. Once the door opens, a servant shall
await you and guide you to his lord's whereabouts.
Wear the dress.
Wear it.
The last two sentences had been underscored and she flinched at the
thought of not only undressing in the moving vehicle, which was akin to
publicly denuding herself! Then re-dressing herself in the chiffon bit of
nothing that would bare her completely, while covering her with nothing but
a silken sheen!
She cringed at the thought of complying, but what choice did she have?
What choice at all?
As the bastard had quite clearly stated, her mama would be in danger were
she to not comply and so she had no choice but to do as he said and follow it
to the letter.
Closing her eyes against that most hideous of thoughts, Lily blindly stuck her
hands out and sought the chiffon robe. It was not on the seat and she had to
bend over and search around the floor for it, a move that almost had her
falling over and breaking her damned neck! But finally, the dress, if one
could call it that, was once more in her grasp. She licked her lips as her
fingers dug into the chiffon and its delicacy had her wanting to pull it apart,
rip it from the seams and damage it beyond repair so that she need not
wear it.
But she couldn't.
The sheer futility of the situation had her gritting her teeth. Frustration and
anger followed on its heels. She dug around in the box for the key the
blackmailer had promised her and then placed it in a pocket in her cloak.
Once that was safely tucked away, she held up the dress once more to the
light and gulped. There would be no hiding once she was enshrouded in it.
Every part of her would be completely bare to the naked eye.
Slowly and reluctantly, Lily unfastened her cloak, which was a simple swathe
of green velvet that was held together at the throat by a rather pretty, if
useful brooch that depicted a sleek and arched greyhound in a dull gilt gold.
She unfastened it and placed it carefully on the seat to her side. It was a
precious gift from her papa and she wore it as often as she could. Even
though he would more than likely have been disgusted by what she was
about to do this night, Lily desperately needed the illusion that he was still
here to protect her and her family from harm.
Carefully, for the confines of the carriage were small, she removed the dress
by throwing it over her head and wincing as a few of the buttons at the back
popped loose. How she would mend those under Janie's beetle eyes, Lily did
not know but she refused to think of that trivial matter at such a time as
this! It was a simple linen Empire shift dre
ss, which was not too difficult to
remove but more than anything, the thought of what lay ahead of her, had
her taking such a long time about it.
Underneath her dress, she did not wear her usual undergarments. Having
deemed them a ridiculous addition to an outfit when one considered what
the night held and she had taken to wearing her simple, thin linen chemise.
Now, she thanked God she had worn that for it would be her saving grace in
the abomination of a dress the blackmailer would have her wear!
Her heart fluttered with relief, for the thought of having to rush naked
through the street and enter a man's house while wearing an outfit that
consisted of nothing but hot air, had been of nightmarish proportions! With
the chemise however, at least the most important parts would be covered
and even though she would only be covered a tad more, a tad was
wonderful in comparison to completely nude. Her chemise was like manna
from the Gods!
Realizing that time had passed and that they must be nearing arrival, she
ducked under the chiffon dress and settled it on her frame. Even in the
relative darkness of the carriage, Lily could tell how clearly visible her flesh
was through the thin material. She grimaced, but swiftly wrapped herself
into her cloak once more, refastened the brooch and then sat there in
silence. In an internal pocket in her cloak lay the key and so as to be ready,
she reached for it and played with the thick metal in her palm as she waited
for the carriage to arrive at the Earl's home. It was the early morning and
the majority of London had retired to their beds. As had her household and
how she wished she could be tucked up in the warm and comfortable cocoon
of her four poster, but that was not to be. And it seemed that even though it
was nearing four of the clock in the morning, that there were people like her
roaming around the streets.
At times, there were the sounds of joviality, of wild laughter and chuckling
guffaws. From her past knowledge, she knew that those bawdy sounds
would more than likely be from club parties, where the veritable Lords and
gentlemen of the ton would be celebrating and enjoying the late hours of the
night with their Cyprians. While the ladies of the ton were expected to retire
early to their beds, their Lords and masters could do as they wished and
how Lily envied them that freedom.
It was a side of life she should know naught of, but, she did. Her older
brother Devlin, the devil, had always included her in his tales of the ton.
There was a mere five years between them and whenever he had escaped to
London in the past, he had always returned with countless wicked tales of
his naughty behavior that had always stirred her into laughing.
Why?
Firstly, because his tales were just that- amusing. His escapades seemed
almost legendary and she had often loved to hear of his adventures.
But secondly, and of this she had always been aware, he had in his own way
been preparing her for her life with a husband, a husband who, more than
likely, reveled in the ton's vices.
It seemed strange, but it was Devlin's way of trying to protect her and she
had always appreciated that. Indeed, more often than not, he did not tell her
enough! And had he not been lax in his attentions, she would have
understood what a seduction was without having to embarrass every female
in her household to discover its meaning!
Devlin had, in his own way, been disillusioning her. Many girls, he had
always said, arrived in London with birds flying about their heads and
flowers in their eyes. These chits sought love and the ton wasn't about love,
he said. It was about expediency. She knew that and therefore had never
been disillusioned. She preferred to know what was happening rather than
have it hid from her. Not that he told her everything, as she well knew, but
just enough to prepare her for a future with a boorish husband.
What a wonderful thought!
One of her governesses had once told her that to have impure thoughts, was
to deflower the mind.
That particular governess had never liked Lily and had told her mother that
she would come to a bad end, due to her independent ways and her inability
to keep quiet on subjects she felt most strongly about.
That that lady was correct hurt her deeply. Her mind had already been
partially deflowered, but tonight, her body would be receiving the same
treatment but on a more permanent scale.
She winced at the thought.
Her fingers began to dig into the horse hair cushions and they merely
gripped all the harder as the vehicle came to a halt. The cessation of the
clippety-clop of the horses' hooves against the cobbled floor had her wincing
again. The time had come . . . .
Staring blindly at the candle, its flame almost burned itself on to her eyes.
Lily knew not how long she sat there. All she knew was that she did not want
to leave the carriage. That she did not want to go through with what she
knew she must.
The prospect of being a shamed woman should have meant naught in
comparison to her mother's safety, but, after all her upbringing, how could it
not?
Men did not want impure wives. They wanted clean virgins that squeaked
with their purity. They wanted the maidenhead as proof that no other had
touched them and that they were their husband's to own and possess.
Without it, she would be . . . . She would be as bad as a harlot.
But what could Lily do?
She swallowed and almost choked at the tightness of her throat. Her hand
blindly sought out the carriage door and she opened it. The blast of air
almost pushed her backwards, but she climbed to her feet and exited the
vehicle. Without the aid of a footman, she almost stumbled but managed to
right herself in the nick of time.
Steadying herself against the door, she looked onwards and saw a faintly
menacing, great black shadow. It was a house, a rather large one and
detached at that. With wry introspection, she could see that the Earl had a
fortune and that, regardless of his sour disposition, was what had had the
tabbies and the matrons in a flush as they'd gossiped about him around the
town.
Behind the house's shadow was a large white cloud, which had been muted
a dark gray from the night sky. A few stars twinkled above her and in one
deep inhalation, she prayed for forgiveness. Prayed for absolution for the sin
she was about to commit.
When amen had departed her lips, she walked slowly up the short, gated
pathway that led to the house and then ascended the front steps that led to
the front door, as she did so, Lily fiddled with the heavy key that rested like
a leaden weight in her palm. Facing the door, she inserted the key but did
not turn it.
Quietly, she unfastened her brooch again and let it hang limply to the side of
her. Reaching for the other flap, she raised it to her face and let it cover her
visage from the nose downwards. Using her arm to clamp the cloak to her
torso, she turned the key and the sound of the lock clicking resonated
&
nbsp; through her like shotgun being emptied. She jumped, startled and then
reached for the key and tucked it into her cloak pocket once again.
As her hand rested on the doorknob, she wondered and not for the first time
how her blackmailer was so aware of what happened in this house and how
he had managed to gain access to it. Did her blackmailer know the Earl?
They had to know one another, for how else had he been able to coordinate
his plan with the staff. For a moment, she wondered if the Earl knew of the
blackmailer's sordid plan, if he knew what she was being forced to do, but
Lily swiftly discarded the thought. The Earl, she realized, hadn't even wanted
to dance with her. Never mind anything else!
Silly it might have been, but Lily was most relieved that the Earl, who had
quite unknowingly come to possess a vital part of her, was not so villainous
as the blackmailer who pushed her into this terrible situation.
But now was not the time to think. If she thought, then she would surely
end up as a bedlamite and instead she turned the doorknob and stepped
over the threshold of the door and into the house. Instantly, and as her
blackmailer had decreed, a servant stepped out of the gloomy hallway and
bowed before her.
Without saying a word, he turned on his heel and took a step forward. He
paused, to ensure she was following and when she did, he walked her down
the length of what seemed like a hellishly long corridor. As she stepped
behind him, her earlier demand that she not think, raised its merry head. All
of a sudden, fear rushed through her. Fear of what she would do if her
mother were to discover this, or if her aunt were to learn of this. Fear of
having to disrobe herself before him, fear of having to taking part in an act
that would destroy her good name. Fear literally knotted her throat until it
became almost impossible to breath, until merely inhaling and exhaling
became a difficult chore and that she was seconds away from choking, Lily
did not doubt.
She wished then and there that Devlin had not hedged about this part of life.
While he had readily informed her of the vices within the ton, he had never
discussed what occurred between a man and a woman. If he had, then had
her mother and father learned of this, then they would have throttled him!
But in this respect, she was completely innocent to this part of life.
