Surrender Your Grace

by Maddie Taylor

  Surrender Your Grace

  By

  Maddie Taylor

  ©2013 by Blushing Books® and Maddie Taylor

  Copyright © 2013 by Blushing Books® and Maddie Taylor

  All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

  a subsidiary of

  ABCD Graphics and Design

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  The trademark Blushing Books®

  is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  Taylor, Maddie

  Surrender Your Grace

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-1781

  Cover Design by edhgraphics.blogspot.com

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  About Blushing Books

  About the Author

  Free Ebook Offer

  Chapter One

  The slamming door startled Cici and she jumped, jabbing her embroidery needle sharply into her thumb. Placing the puncture wound in her mouth, she sucked away the small drop of blood. Frowning, she turned to face her irate sister who had already started in on her latest self-absorbed tirade.

  “Can you believe he wants to marry me off to a Viscount? How humiliating. I am the daughter of an Earl, sought after by every hostess in London. Poems have been written in tribute to my beauty, my hair, my lips, and my breasts even.” Elizabeth angrily flopped down on the settee, arms crossed, and toe tapping in agitation. “And he wants me to lower myself and become a mere Viscountess. Well, I won’t have it.”

  Cici rolled her eyes at her conceit, but asked dutifully, “Who is this Viscount, sister?”

  “Viscount Arrandale, a great big nobody.”

  “But he is the brother of Sommerville, isn’t he? He is also his heir. That is hardly nobody, sister dear.”

  “Oh piffle, he will never inherit. Sommerville is only thirty. He is the one who should be courting me. I won’t settle for less than an Earl, Cici. I won’t be humiliated this way.”

  “I hear he is handsome and extremely wealthy. You would be settled for life. You could travel, see all of Europe and beyond. Imagine going to Rome and Greece or to the great pyramids in Egypt. Perhaps you should reconsider; you could do much worse.”

  Elizabeth Richards gave her sister a scathing glare. “Who wants to travel? I want to entertain and be entertained. See and be seen at balls, parties, and the theater. That‘s what I want.”

  “I’m sure the Viscount can give you all of that.”

  “Can he make me a countess, a marchioness, or a duchess? No, he can’t and I’ll not consider him.”

  Cecilia looked at her spoiled older sister. She was right. She was beautiful and she’d not exaggerated; there had been sonnets and poems written praising her face and form. She was the fashionable image of female perfection, tall and slender with honey blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes. Her skin was flawless alabaster. She was everything that Cici was not. She should be able to choose any husband she wanted, but this was her third season and she had turned down so many offers her selection of suitors was thinning. She had lofty goals, but the offers from the earls, marquesses, and dukes had not come. Beauty only carried her so far, and her personality was what kept them away. She was an overindulged, stubborn and out of control 20-year-old. Cici feared that if she didn’t change her ways she would have to settle for even less than a viscount or - worse in Elizabeth’s jaded opinion - a commoner. No one wanted to take a shrew for a wife.

  Cici sighed, thinking about how her mother had cosseted her older sister. She couldn’t remember a time when their mama had told Elizabeth ‘no.’ Her mother was easy to read. Daughter of a baron, she had advanced her social standing when she had married an Earl. She was ecstatically happy to let Elizabeth have her way and buy the finest dresses, hats and furbelows for the season’s premier galas, parties and balls. She lived vicariously through her daughter, never having a season of her own before she married Charles Richards, Earl of Benton.

  Her father seemed to ignore her sister’s bratty behavior until forced to intervene during a tantrum or sulk. Never an overly affectionate man, he still loved his wife and Charles always bent over backwards to keep his beloved happy. So she couldn’t figure out why her father was pushing for a match that was out of favor with Elizabeth. Cici puzzled over this; something was wrong and she planned to ask her father about it.

  “You must help me, Cici.”

  “Me? What can I do?”

  “I am supposed to be introduced to the viscount tonight. You can help by sticking to me like glue at the Berkly’s ball. If he doesn’t get me alone he can’t press his suit. I will make it a point to fill up my dance card straight away. If he does manage to wheedle a dance, I’ll become suddenly ill and insist that you assist me to the ladies retiring room.”

  Sighing heavily, Cici felt trapped. She hadn’t planned on attending that evening. But she knew if she didn’t agree to Elizabeth’s scheme, she would just go to mama and get her way. Putting aside her needlework, she rose to ring for her maid. She’d need to find something to wear.

  Chapter Two

  “The Earl of Benton, Countess Benton, Lady Elizabeth Richards and Lady Cecelia Richards,” the steward called out as he announced the family and they advanced to the receiving line. After formally greeting their hosts and making it to the end of the end, Elizabeth and Cici were presented with their beribboned dance cards.

  Elizabeth reminded her sister to be vigilant. “I’ll signal you when I need you so don’t wander off,” she said. She then stepped into the ballroom, where she was besieged by beaus eager to pencil in their name for the multitude of dances, in particular the coveted waltzes and supper dances. Most turned to Cici and filled in their names on her card as well. Both girls were taken for every dance in just a few minutes. Cici accepted this as courteous since it would have been rude to ignore the younger Edward’s girl when she was standing right next to her sister. Many spent the dances talking about Elizabeth or probing for information. It was one of the reasons Cici preferred not to attend, as it quickly became tedious. Used to the hubbub that her sister’s overshadowing presence stirred, Cici moved off to join a group of her friends who were also debutantes and had made their come out that year.

  Lady Margaret Ashwick grabbed Cici’s hand and pulled her into their noisy circle of chattering, giggling, simpering young women. “Oh Cici, your gown is lovely.” Cici’s gown was a hand-me-down, but the seamstress had done a commendable job of cutting it to fit and remaking it to look stylish. The ice blue fabric of the off-the-shoulder gown shimmered in the candlelight as she moved. The cut of the gown and the large elongated ho
op accentuated her full breasts and narrow corseted waist. The secondhand gown was indeed lovely and was the perfect foil for her auburn locks. Caught up in a mass at her crown, it then fell down her back and around her shoulders in a mass of loose curls. Although an unfashionable color, Cici had always thought her hair was her best feature.

  “Thank you, Maggie. But I have to confess that this is one of Elizabeth’s cast-offs, let out here, tucked there and hemmed up to the knee.”

  “Now, now… You are every bit as lovely as your sister and your dance card is already full.” Maggie chided her diminutive friend in a motherly fashion, but as she looked down at her from her average height she couldn’t help but tease. “But you are a little bit of a thing, aren’t you? Even I tower over you. ”

  “Yes, I’m a bit shorter and much rounder.” They laughed as they eyed her sister’s reed thin figure. Cici knew that Elizabeth lamented her sadly lacking bosom. But with the new corsets these days, the modistes were able to design gowns that pushed up whatever few assets a flat-chested woman like her sister had, creating a much rounder and womanly silhouette.

  It was then that Cici noticed a stunningly handsome man making his way through the ballroom. Tall and fit, his shoulders were incredibly broad and his coat fit him to perfection. He had a regal bearing and female heads turned admiringly as he passed. She sighed wondering why someone like that never noticed her. She mentally kicked herself for asking because she knew the answer.

  Cecilia was a petite, curvaceous redhead with freckles. She loved to read and could often be found poring over travel books and periodicals. Nothing about her was the least bit fashionable, so she was reasonable and understood that her options for a husband were limited. But she couldn’t resist finding out more about the attractive young gentleman who had caught her eye.

  “Who is that tall gentleman over there? He is quite stunning don’t you think?”

  Maggie looked to where her friend subtly indicated with her fan. “Oh, Cici, don’t make me answer that. It’s just too troubling.”

  “How can that be?”

  “That’s my brother Andrew. And although I do think him handsome, I really can’t comment on him being stunning or otherwise.” Maggie giggled as she looked at her blushing friend. “I’ll get Papa to introduce you, I think you would get along famously. You have a lot in common.”

  “Oh? What, for instance?”

  “You’re longing to travel to distant lands is one example. Andrew has just returned from Spain and made several stops along the way. He could bore you to death with the tales he has to tell.”

  “I’d love for him to try to bore me with his stories, I’m sure he has had some grand adventures.” Eyes fixed upon his golden head, which even at her diminutive height was easily picked out in the crowded ballroom. He was making his rounds, stopping to greet friends and acquaintances here and there. He was walking toward where her parents stood when she noticed a beautiful older woman approach him and lay a hand on his sleeve. She appeared to be in her early thirties, was tall and slender with golden blonde hair and flawless skin. Her emerald green gown fit her to perfection and if the gems dripping from her ears, throat and wrist could attest, she was also impressively wealthy.

  “Who is that woman speaking to him? She looks familiar, but I can’t quite place her.”

  Maggie looked up and then sniffed in disdain. “That is Lady Winslow. She salivates after Andrew like a dog for a bone. It’s quite pathetic actually.”

  “Lady Winslow, isn’t she married to an older gentleman?”

  Maggie laughed at her friend, “Cici really, you have to come out of those books and up for air more often. You are dreadfully behind on the gossip. Lady Winslow’s husband died a year ago; he had to have been eighty if he was a day.” Leaning closer to her friend's ear she whispered, “It is also rumored that she may have had something to do with his demise.”

  Cici gasped, “No! That’s horrifying. What is she doing here mingling with good people if she is suspected of… murder?” She lowered her voice and whispered behind her fan at the end. She didn’t want to be overheard spreading such malicious gossip.

  “No proof I suspect. And he was ancient after all. But you’d think it’d be obvious that she did it. She manipulated the man into marriage for his fortune. She was a nobody before the marriage, the daughter of a shipbuilder, so I hear. Her father had lofty goals of landing her a nobleman and was quite successful as you can see.” They both looked on as Andrew was directing the woman toward a nearby door and they disappeared.

  “She seems overly familiar with your brother.”

  “Well, there have been rumors…”

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s rumored that she was his paramour, but that Andrew broke it off a few weeks ago. It is widely known that my brother is looking to settle down and start his family. She of course would not be an appropriate wife for him at all.”

  “Because she is older than him…”

  “Cici, really, Andrew is Sommerville’s heir. He is not going to marry a well-used, manipulative shipbuilder’s daughter.”

  “Maggie dear, you always have the very best gossip.”

  “Why thank you, Cici. I’ll take that as a compliment.” They both giggled just as the sound of the musicians tuning up floated up over the crowded ball room and heralded the beginning of the dancing. For the next hour, the room was filled with swirling colors as the well-dressed ladies of the Ton were swirled and twirled, waltzed and promenaded around the dance floor.

  Maggie and Cici found themselves together again while trying to catch their breath before the next set of dances began. They stood once again watching the guests and sharing gossip when Cici complained. “Oh drat, I see Elizabeth trying to get my attention. She has bamboozled me into another one of her hare-brained schemes. Hopefully, this one won’t be a complete fiasco like so many others. Will you excuse me? And tell Lord, uh…” She forgot the name of the gentleman that had just hurried off to get her a glass of lemonade. Scanning her dance card she found his name. “Tell Lord Jamison that I got called away by family. I will see you later this evening and give you all the details.”

  “Of course dear Cici, meanwhile I’ll try to arrange for an introduction later.”

  Cici nodded as she headed off to join her sister.

  “Cecilia Richards, I have been summoning you forever. The Viscount has asked that I tour the gardens with him so he can speak privately with me. I need you with me sister, more now than ever. I can count on you for this I’m certain.”

  “Surely, sister, but I am hardly a proper chaperone. Let me find Mother.”

  “No, I have already seen to that,” Elizabeth exclaimed impatiently. “She awaits us at the garden door.”

  “Let me fetch a glass of lemonade first, I am quite parched.”

  “There’s no time. Why must you be such a trial? Here, take mine. I haven’t even touched it.”

  Cici accepted the cool drink and puzzled at Elizabeth’s suddenly pleased expression. Elizabeth watched her finish the tart beverage, then grabbed the empty cup abruptly from her hand and set it on a nearby table. Grabbing her hand petulantly, she dragged her along behind her like an errant child. “If you are done dawdling, let’s go then.”

  Cici and Elizabeth exited the warm ballroom into the cool garden where the Viscount waited alone. For early March it was unseasonably warm, but there was still a nip in the air. Elizabeth coolly greeted the man but Cici was tongue-tied as she gazed up in awe at the Adonis standing tall and beautiful before her. He was well over six feet tall and she had to lift her chin sharply to look into his handsome face. He had startlingly deep blue eyes and thick, wavy, dark blonde hair which he wore slightly longer than fashionable, brushed straight back off his forehead. He obviously ignored the current trend for facial hair and was clean shaven, revealing an appealing dimple in his chin.

  Cici was startled from her dreamlike assessment of the man by the sharp swat of a fan to her forearm. Elizabeth
glared at her for her inattention stating, “His Lordship asked you a question, Cici.”

  “I beg your pardon, My Lord. My mind had wandered.”

  “Think nothing of it Lady Richards. I just asked if you had toured the Marquess’ gardens before. They are quite impressive.” He shot Cici an amused look. This younger Edward’s girl was a beauty, although not of the classical style of her sister. Her vivid features and nicely rounded figure warranted a second glance. But, he had already committed his attentions to the elder sister so he turned and took Elizabeth’s arm. They walked a few steps on the walking stones to the edge of the sculpted gardens. Lanterns illuminated the triangular flower beds and stone walkways. At the far end of the garden a fully lit pavilion could be seen, tempting strollers to sit or partake of the extraordinary natural beauty that surrounded them.

  “I haven’t had the pleasure, My Lord but I can tell already that they are quite magnificent”

  “Shall we stroll then?” he asked as Elizabeth instantly nodded her agreement while Cici immediately expressed her concern.

  “Oh, well… perhaps we should wait for mama. She was meeting us here to chaperone, isn’t that right sister?”

  “Yes, I wonder what is keeping her.” Elizabeth appeared to be scanning the garden for her missing parent. “She was heading this way before I went to find you, sister. She may have wandered to the pavilion. Shall we check, My Lord?”

  “As you wish, My Lady. How could I deny two such beautiful ladies the pleasure of a moonlit stroll tonight?” He then stepped onto the garden path with Elizabeth in tow, missing the infuriated glare that was her response to his comment. Cici noticed and despite her nervousness, stifled a giggle. The Viscount would have to learn quickly that Elizabeth didn’t like to be compared or grouped with anyone when it came to compliments. As the couple moved off into the garden, Cici had no choice but to follow closely behind.