She looked as though she were forcing herself to stay still, to look inviting and seductive, when really she wanted to run away.
He glanced up the narrow staircase, took in the peeling wall covering and the stench of stale food and ale. He noticed her glance as it slid along the street and he followed that glance to where an older man was rapidly approaching them. Her protector, obviously. Suddenly, the man’s demeanour and expensive mode of dress made him angry. He wore a red velvet suite, heavily embroidered with gold thread and his fat fingers were decorated with precious stones, all at the expense of this innocent young girl.
Whoever he was and whatever claim he had on her, he had no right to whore her out so he could live on the proceeds of her misery.
She looked up at the man as he drew near and slowly shook her head, as though she were silently pleading with him.
“How much will you pay for a virgin?” The man asked in a harsh voice. “Untouched she is. Worth a lot to a wealthy gentleman like yourself, I’ll warrant.”
Adrian was horrified. He felt his hands clench into fists and longed to smash them into the man’s fat face.
“How dare you?” He shouted. “How dare you treat her like this? She is a human being, not a commodity for you to auction off to the highest bidder!”
The man’s mouth turned down and his red face grew redder.
“She’s my daughter,” he said. “Law says she belongs to me and I can do whatever the hell I like with her. Now, are you going to pay enough to be the first with her? If not, there will be plenty who will.”
Adrian was livid with rage now, but he had no idea what to do. He could not just walk away and leave this poor child in the care of this brute. No doubt once this night was over he would be here every night, selling this lovely young girl to whoever would pay.
“Very well,” Adrian said at last. He pulled his purse from his waist and dropped it into the man’s grubby hand. “Is that enough?”
Marianne’s eyes widened and tears began to gather along their lashes. She wondered what sort of madness had made her look for a birthday present from her father, but even knowing how absurd that was she was still terribly disappointed in him. How could he dress her in her mother’s wedding gown, which surely brought back some happy memories and sell her most precious jewel to any stranger with enough funds. At least this man was handsome and young; that was the best she could hope for.
The girl’s father opened the drawstring of the leather purse and peered inside, his fat face spreading into a grin as he did so. He waved the open purse in front of Marianne’s face.
“See,” he said. “Gold this gentleman is willing to pay. I told you, did I not?”
Adrian could not hide his disgust as he took her arm and pulled her away.
“Hang on,” her father called after them. “I rented a chamber up the stairs special. No need to go anywhere else.”
“No,” Adrian told him. “I have a house nearby.”
The man looked at him suspiciously for a few seconds then shrugged and began to count the coins in the purse while Adrian led Marianne to his waiting carriage.
That had been the beginning of their relationship. Adrian ordered his driver to take them to his London house, which was not yet fully open for the winter. He glanced out of the window and saw the girl’s father, still smiling smugly to himself as he counted the money. The carriage and horses were moving fast and Adrian felt ashamed that he had actually bought a human being, although he had no intention of keeping her against her will. He did not really buy her, did he? He bought her freedom and he would make sure she kept it. Once he had assured this lovely creature that he meant her no harm, he fully intended to give her some peace from this man who would sell her into an abysmal life.
“Are you really a virgin?” He asked her gently.
“Yes, Sir. You are my first.”
He caught his breath and said a silent prayer of thanks. Supposing he had not come her way this night? Supposing some other, less considerate man had seen her, perhaps an old and fat man, a lecher who would do unspeakable things to her. He shuddered.
The horses stopped inside the courtyard and Adrian helped her down while the driver attended to them. He could feel her trembling as he led her inside, her hand held in his.
Under the light from the many candles and lamps inside the house, he could see greasy dirt around her neck and on her arms. He was certain she could not be comfortable like that and he ordered the servants to prepare a bath for her. While they waited, he took her cloak and laid it on a nearby chair then poured her some honey mead, which she took eagerly, although her hands shook so much the liquid splashed over onto her arm.
She said nothing until at last two male servants came into the bedchamber with a bath, more servants following behind with buckets of water.
“You want me to wash first, Sir?” She asked him nervously. “I understand.”
“I want only your comfort,” he replied. “We will do nothing without your consent. I swear it.”
“But you paid for me,” she said in a voice which trembled. “You paid a lot of money for me.”
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I paid for your freedom, not for you. I cannot pretend I would not like to bed you, to be the first with you. But the choice is yours and I will respect that choice.”
He crumbled rose petals into the steaming water and breathed in the fragrance which filled the air as he dismissed the servants with a wave of his hand.
“Come, my dear,” he said, taking her hand.
She said very little and he wanted to assure her she was safe in his care, but he was not quite sure how to go about that. His experience with women was limited to those to whom he had been formally presented; comforting a street girl was an entirely new experience for him. He did not want to look a fool, or be taken for one, but he felt sure she would be grateful to him.
He turned her around and unlaced her bodice, removed her gown and petticoats and allowed them to drop to the floor. He could see that they, too, were grubby and he wondered if his mother’s clothes would fit. Frances might also have left some winter garments in the chest in her bedchamber and he intended to look as soon as he felt able to leave this girl.
The action of undressing her brought a quiver of excitement deep inside and he sensed himself move involuntarily. He had gone to that street in order to be relieved of his virginity and his intention had not changed. He just wanted a more exclusive arrangement and if she was indeed a virgin also, it would be like a wedding night. He smiled as he thought of it.
“Do not be afraid,” he said. “I will not hurt you. I want nothing but to keep you safe. What is your name?”
“Marianne, Sir.”
“Well, Marianne, you are very beautiful and such beauty should not be wasted on a life of prostitution.”
“What should I call you?”
“Adrian,” he answered. “My name is Adrian.”
He slipped the chemise from her shoulders and his eyes swept over her. It was the first time he had seen a naked female in the flesh, not in a painting, and his heart leapt with excitement. He desperately wanted to touch those breasts, to hold that young body against himself, but he had no wish to rush things and he could see she was already frightened.
He took her hand once more to guide her to the bath, where she stepped into the sweet scented, steaming water and sat down. He drew up a chair behind her head and began to wash her with a cloth, squeezing the water from it to trickle over her breasts and slipping the cloth between her legs to gently cleanse her private places. He unfastened the curls in her hair and let the tresses fall about her shoulders. The texture was slightly greasy, as he expected, but now he took a pitcher and dipped it into the water, poured it over her hair and leaned forward to kiss her cheek.
He rubbed the soap into his hands until he had formed a lather, then he spread that lather over her hair.
“You are very kind, Sir,” she said softly but her voice still qui
vered a little and he realised he had not made it clear precisely what he wanted from her. If he was really her first, she must be terrified and he very much wanted to relieve her of that fear.
“I hope to gain your trust,” he replied. “Tell me about yourself. What is your age?”
“I am sixteen.”
“And that man? Was he really your father?”
“Yes.”
He thought of his own father, of how well he treated his sons, how well he always treated Frances. He may not have had much time to give her, but respect he had aplenty.
“How can your father make you work on the streets like a common prostitute? It is his place to protect you.”
She looked puzzled, as though she had never heard that point of view before.
“You should be cherished and loved, not whored out to keep him in fancy clothes and drink.” He stopped talking, trying to control his rising anger. He did not want to frighten her, make her think he was angry with her. “Will you stay with me?” He asked. “Will you be my mistress and mine alone? I think I could fall in love with someone like you.”
She turned her head to look back at him and smiled for the first time; knowing he was the cause of that smile made his heart sing. Holding his hand, she moved that hand to her breast and he shivered with delight. He lathered the soap between his hands once more and this time he spread the lather over her entire body, her breasts, her thighs, her secret places and as he wondered how long he could contain himself, she sighed with pleasure.
He took a large sheet from a cupboard and held it up for her as she stepped out of the bath and he wrapped it around her. He began to rub her dry, then his mouth came down on her neck and traced a line along her shoulder as he let the sheet fall and ran his hands over every inch of her, turned her to face him and kissed her longingly.
“Is this all right?” He whispered. “You owe me nothing. The choice is yours.”
She nodded and pressed herself against him as she returned his kiss and lifted her arms to slip his shirt from his broad shoulders.
Enough! He could wait no longer; he opened his breeches as he pushed her down onto the bed and gently parted her legs to receive him.
***
Adrian felt he was walking on air. His night of passion with Marianne had taught him about desires and ecstasy he never suspected and once he had soothed her fears and made her see that he would care for her, that he was not going to toss her back to her father, she returned his passion with enthusiasm.
She had never felt such passion before either. This was not what she had been expecting, this was not just satisfying a man’s needs, as though she were some convenience like the outside privy. This was a man she could love, a man who could arouse her own desires and satisfy them.
She smiled to herself as she lie beside him, her fingers gently playing around his nipple.
“Adrian,” she said, trying out the sound on her tongue. “I trust you are not disappointed.”
She was naked beneath the covers and she walked her fingers up to his cheek. He turned his head to kiss her palm and swept his hand along the top of her breasts, bent his head and kissed each one gently.
“I am delighted,” he replied. “This morning I shall send for a dressmaker to begin making you some decent clothes.”
“But my gown,” she protested.
“You will not need it. It is old fashioned and dirty. Throw it away.”
She shook her head.
“He told me it was my mother’s,” she argued. “I want to keep it, even if I never wear it again.”
He kissed her fingers and smiled.
“As you wish,” he said. “You are free to do whatever you wish.”
“Thank you. I shall need it until the dressmaker has been.”
“You are not much smaller than my mother, so I will see what she has left behind for now.”
He did not want to tell her about Frances although he intended to look for clothes among her things. She would not be wanting them back. Marianne’s eyes grew round and wide.
“Will she not protest?”
He laughed out loud as he thought of Lady Kennington if her told her where some of her gowns had gone.
“She will protest loudly if she ever finds out, but she is not going to find out, is she?”
She gave him a nervous smile and he pulled her to him, crushed her breasts against his chest and kissed her lips.
“It was fate led me to that seedy little alleyway last night. We will find some rooms for you once you are dressed, then you will be mine exclusively.” He paused, drew away and looked into her eyes. “If that is what you want, of course. No one will ever make you do anything you do not want to, ever again.”
He was rewarded by the most delighted smile he had seen since he told Frances she was free to marry Mark. He did not expect to make this girl smile so easily, but that this small token was enough to produce such joy made him feel very benevolent.
“That would be so good of you,” she answered. “What of my father? He will be angry.”
“You will never have to see him again. If he should find you, I will kill him like the gutter rat he is.” He paused and kissed her fingers. “How would that be?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Marianne spent those first few days and nights at the London house, where Adrian took her to his bed every night and was overwhelmed with love for her. He had never felt like this about Frances and if Mark felt like this about her, it would indeed be impossible for him to give her up.
He sat and watched while the dressmaker took her measurements, smiled indulgently as she excitedly chose the fabrics the woman had brought for her, and felt a glow of satisfaction when her face lit up with joy.
“What about this one, Adrian?” She asked him, holding up a piece of yellow fabric with a soft sheen over it. “Are you sure it is not too expensive?”
“My darling, nothing is too expensive for my little girl,” he replied. “You choose whatever you want.”
He felt very pleased with himself and was so glad he was wealthy enough to give her anything she wanted. He found rooms for them on the other side of London, the most fashionable and expensive part, where it was less likely she would ever be recognised. The rooms were above an exclusive wine bar, not a tavern full of rowdy drinkers and street whores. This place was for the aristocracy, for their ladies as well as the gentlemen and Adrian thought Marianne would be safe enough there.
For her part, she was overjoyed. She had no idea where Adrian went when he left her, only that she watched from the window and anticipated his return with excitement. Each night, she could scarce contain her desire before he took her into his arms and made love to her.
She clung to him in the night and knew she loved him. She also felt sure he loved her in return not only because of his tenderness and passion, but because of all he had done for her, finding her a nice place to live, having lovely gowns made for her, even buying her expensive jewels.
She knew he truly cared for her, she had found romance and love in the most unlikely place, just like some of the stories she had heard people talk about, and one day he would marry her and they would live happily ever after.
“Marianne,” he asked her. “Is there anything else you need? You have only to say.”
She sat beside him and snuggled her head against his chest, slipped her hand inside his shirt and gently scratched his flesh inside.
“What else could I possibly want?”
“Well, I do not want you to be bored. Do you need some books to read?”
She sat up and look at him with a puzzled frown.
“I cannot read,” she said. “I thought you knew.”
She was worried now, worried he might think her stupid or ignorant, not good enough for him.
“Forgive me,” he said, his hand resting on her back. “I should have realised. Would you like me to teach you?”
So he began to teach her to read and she learned quickly. She wanted to read, had al
ways wondered what all the strange symbols meant, and more than that, she wanted to please Adrian. He had done so much for her; it was the least she could do for him. She wanted him to be proud of her, to be proud to take her out and perhaps one day present her to his family.
He had said very little about his family, not since that one comment on his mother the night they met. She wanted to ask him, but something stopped her. She hoped he did not have a wife hidden away somewhere, but she was sure he would have told her that.
When the dressmaker brought the finished gowns for her she was so excited he thought she might burst.
“Adrian!” She said as she twirled around in front of him, showing off a deep blue gown which made her eyes look darker, her complexion healthier. “Look at this. Do you like it? Do I look well in it?”
He turned to the dressmaker and thanked her, passed her a piece of paper with his name and address written on it.
“Send your account to me here,” he told her. “You will be paid straight away.”
The woman glanced at the parchment and dropped a deep curtsy.
“Yes, My Lord,” she said. “Thank you, My Lord.”
Marianne watched her go and laughed out loud.
“Why is she calling you ‘My Lord’?” She asked. “Does she think being rich makes you nobility?”
He made no reply. It was the first time he realised that she had no idea who he was, that his title was not something he had ever told her of.
She twirled around again, admiring her reflection as she did so.
“You have not answered my question,” she said. “Do I look well?”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, the taste of her lips sending a thrill throughout his body.
“You look beautiful,” he said. “You are enchanting and I love you.”
She sighed contentedly as she laid her face against his chest. He had said it at last! She knew he loved her, she knew it. Now he had said it and she had never felt so happy.
HOLY POISON: Boxed Set: The Complete Series 1-6 Page 54
