“Who do you belong to, Charlotte? Tell me.” His voice sent shivers down my spine.
“I belong to you, Master George, only to you.”
And then he pushed. A sharp pain ripped through my belly and I cried out. He pressed his mouth down on mine and gently stroked my hair. The pain was receding, and I had never felt so full. He began to move gently, his mouth still covering mine, his tongue invading my mouth.
He pulled up long enough to say, “Wrap your legs around me.” I locked my legs around his hips and he dipped farther into me. I moaned with pleasure and his thrusts came faster and faster. He wedged one of his hands between us and began rubbing my quim. The feeling from this afternoon returned and I voiced my approval. The wonderful feeling came quickly, spreading through my body, forcing away any pain I was feeling from the tearing of my maidenhead. The thrusts increased and moments later I felt Lord Essex shudder, and collapse on top of me.
He leaned up and kissed me gently. “You’ll only feel the pain of entry this once, my Charlotte.” He kissed me again, his tongue probing for entry. I opened and when he sucked gently I pushed my tongue into his mouth. He wrapped his around mine as he began to slide out of my quim.
“You’re more wonderful than I thought you’d be, sweet Charlotte.” He kissed me again and we fell asleep as we lay entwined in each other’s arms, my legs still wrapped around his hips.
I woke up sore and alone. Master George had covered me with a blanket, and was supervising the drawing of a bath in a huge bathtub that would fit the two of us. I listened as he ordered breakfast delivered to the room.
I looked at the windows. It was obviously daylight. If I thought the gossip sheets were bad before I knew they would be terrible now. I would be leaving a man’s house in the same clothes that I’d worn the night before.
When the servants left I sat up. Master George smiled at me, and then crossed the room to kiss me. “Good morning, my sweet. How are you feeling?”
“Sore.” I whispered, and then looked down. Dried blood stained my thighs. I gasped and he laughed.
“Let’s wash together and then we’ll eat. It’s early still, most of the ton is still abed. But the gossip sheets don’t need this incident to proclaim us as a couple.”
He reached over to the side table and handed me a newspaper. The headline screamed Virgin Widow No More? Then it went on to tell how Lord Essex and I had left the party together at an early hour and disappeared inside his townhouse.
“At press time the Virgin Widow had not reappeared. But can she still be called a Virgin Widow, or simply just a Widow now? Or perhaps the mistress of Lord Essex? Only time will tell, but we predict the later.”
I gasped. Of course, they would expect that. My reputation was ruined. I would never be allowed back in society again.
I lay back against the bed. Lord Essex laughed and made his way toward the tub. “Come, my sweet. We’ll bathe and eat. I’ve already sent for some clothing for you to wear for the ceremony. Sarah is picking it out. And I’ve already dispatched for an emergency license and set the wedding time. We will have your things moved in this evening, after the wedding.”
I stared at him. “You don’t mean to set me up as your mistress? You mean to marry me? How dare you make all these decisions without me! Do I not have a say?”
He laughed, ignoring my questions. “At first, I had planned on the mistress path. But after last night I decided I had to have you at all times. You will make a fine Lady Essex. We are meeting the Vicar at three, so you should hurry and rise. I’ve sent word to your in-laws and to Lord and Lady Thomas, who will meet us there. And don’t forget, Charlotte, you belong to me now. These decisions are mine, and you will abide by them.”
I started to balk and then stopped. This was my way out of the Hudson household. No one in society would shun me when I was Lady Essex, and I could have my quim played with every night. The thought sent a shiver through me. “Very well, milord.”
Essex cocked his head at me and grinned. “Very well who? Have you forgotten so soon? Do you need a reminder?”
He walked to the bureau and drew out the strap. “Bend over the bed, Charlotte.”
I stood quickly and crossed to Essex, grabbing his arm. “Please Master George, please. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
He looked down at me and smiled. “I know it won’t, Charlotte. Now go and bend over the bed.”
I did as I was told and received five sound smacks with the strap. Against my sore behind the strokes hurt worse than anything I’d felt since this affair had started. Tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t want to give him an excuse for more swats.
“Thank you, Master George, for the correction.”
I could hear the smile in his voice. “Very good, sweet Charlotte. Now, let’s bathe and eat.”
I swallowed hard. I was out of the Hudson household, but not quite as I expected. I would be a Lady. But would people still brand me as murderess?
Chapter 4
The wedding went off without a hitch, considering it was put together in less than seven hours. Raymond put up a token argument about Lord Essex ‘ruining’ me, but you could tell he was thrilled to be rid of me.
Sarah found a beautiful lavender gown that looked wonderful with my dark hair. Layla and Martin were our witnesses and Lords Beaton, Cannonberry and Ellington were in attendance.
For the wedding dinner we ate roast duck at Lord Ellington’s home, and then attended a crush put on by the Duke of Waterfield. Our appearance brought a round of applause and hearty congratulations from those attending. From everyone except Geoffrey Edwards. The scowl he gave me seemed overly done, just because he was upset that he would not be able to accompany me to the play Saturday evening.
People who ignored me two days ago lavished me with praises about my dress, my hair and my jewelry. Lady Chesterfield herself told me that my lavender gown “was exquisite. You must give me the name of your dressmaker, my dear. Perhaps we can take tea together tomorrow or later in the week?”
“Why, Lady Chesterfield, I’m surprised you’d invite a suspected murderess to tea,” I said loudly. “Isn’t that what you thought of me a few days ago, before my marriage to Lord Essex?”
Lady Chesterfield blustered and blushed. “My dear, a most unfortunate misunderstanding, you must forgive me.”
I prepared to tell her she could seek her tea companions elsewhere when a dark voice boomed out behind me.
“Indeed, Lady Essex, were you ever cleared in your first husband’s death?” I turned and stared at Geoffrey Edwards. The sarcasm in his voice when he said Lady Essex still hung heavy in the air.
“Perhaps your latest husband should have contacted the local authorities before he rushed into a hasty marriage with you. It seems they never quite decided what happened to Bernard Hudson. But perhaps you’re just very talented, and news of your ‘virginity’ was highly exaggerated.”
I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Several of the ladies standing near me gasped. The hatred in Geoffrey Edwards’ eyes caused me to take a step backward. Before I could answer him, Lord Essex grabbed him from behind, swung him around and slammed his fist into his face. Edwards fell to the floor and only Lord Cannonberry kept my husband from pulling him up to continue pummeling him.
“You will retract your statement sir, or we will continue this disagreement at another time, with our seconds,” George’s voice was full of rage.
Edwards wiped blood from his mouth and turned an evil stare my way. “My apologies Lady Essex, I wish you many happy returns.”
He turned and stormed from the room. All eyes had turned our way. George shrugged away Lord Cannonberry’s hold on him. The anger in his face caused me to cringe. When he looked toward me, however, his face softened. He pulled me close and ran his fingers gently down my face.
“Are you all right, my sweet?”
I nodded, unable to say anything. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Why was Geoffrey Edwards so angry about m
y marriage to Lord Essex?
“Perhaps we should go,” I whispered.
George kissed me lightly, causing titters from the surrounding crowd. “Nonsense. I will not allow that man to ruin our wedding day. We will stay and dance and enjoy ourselves.”
Our host came up to enquire as to our safety.
“My apologies, Lady Essex,” Waterfield said. “I hope this event will not spoil your special day. You must save me a dance.”
Then he ordered everyone back to the party and George gathered me in his arms. “It’s all right my sweet, it’s all right, it’s all over.”
Somehow, I knew, however, that it was not over.
The days flew by. George had my meager belongings delivered to my new home and installed in his bedroom. When he announced that we would be sharing a room I was not surprised. It was the normal custom for a husband and wife to have separate bedrooms, but I knew George was anything but normal.
We were very popular at all the events we attended. It was hard for me to be polite to the people who just a few days earlier had turned their backs on me and branded me a murderess. We didn’t see Geoffrey Edwards at any of the events and Lord Barton informed us that he had not been included on any invitation list after the scene at the Duke of Waterfield’s ball.
Several days after the wedding George and I were lying in bed. I’d just received a sound spanking, and a sound fucking, something I’d come to love on both accounts. George was playing with my nipples, alternating between pinching them and sucking them.
He drew one into his mouth and bit gently. “Tell me about the night Bernard died.”
I felt a cold chill go up my spine. “Why?”
He bit harder. “Because I want to know.” He moved to the other nipple and bit it. “Don’t want it to feel left out,” he whispered. “Tell me.”
I took a deep breath. “We were married at noon. Bernard and I were not exactly in love. We married because our parents wanted us to. Our fathers were partners. Our marriage assured that the store business would stay in the family.”
He licked between my breasts. “And do you own part of the business?”
“My portion of the business went to Bernard upon our marriage,” I said softly, bad memories floating back. “It came back to me when he died. Raymond bought it from me six months later.”
He turned on his back and pulled me on top of him, his hands kneading my abused buttocks. “And how much of the business did your father own?”
“Seventy-five percent,” I whispered. “He put most of the money in at some point when Raymond was having difficulties.”
George pushed his hand down and pinched my sweet button. I moaned in response.
“Did he give you a fair price?”
“He gave me 100,000 pounds,” I said. “And he gave me the 50,000 pounds he was going to give Bernard and I for our wedding. I think he meant to kick me out of his house as soon as possible, without losing face in society. I have money, if that’s what you’re asking, Master George.”
I could feel George’s cock hardening underneath me. “It’s not the money, you know that. I have money. It’s just an idea I had,” he whispered. “And how did Bernard die?”
I tried to move so I could take his cock inside me.
“Not yet, sweet,” he said, pulling me back from my goal. “Tell me, how did he die?”
I shook my head. “He fell from the roof. I was with Sarah in the dining room at the time. The authorities think someone pushed him. Others think he jumped. I hate to think he hated the thought of being married to me so badly he would kill himself right afterwards. Of course, rumors spread that I had pushed him, so I could get the money. I had been on the roof earlier in the evening, but I wasn’t there when the accident happened.”
“You think it was an accident?” He rubbed his palms against my nipples.
“Yes, I think it was.” My voice was soft, the bad memories returning. The questions and the accusations. I could feel tears threatening my eyes. I didn’t know why. I liked Bernard, but I didn’t love him. Still, I hated that he had died.
George pulled me forward and smacked my already reddened bum. “Does my sweet need another spanking?” He slapped my behind again and I moaned in agreement.
“Yes, Master George, please.”
I stood up and bent over the bed, assuming the position where my bum would be high in the air.
“Oh no, sweet, we’re going to try something new. Stand at the end of the bed.”
I moved toward the end, clasping my hands behind my back. Master George turned me and gathered my hands in front of me, wrapping them in a length of my hose. He then turned me toward the bed again and raised my hands above my head, tying the hose to the bedpost.
He grabbed my hips and pulled me backwards until my feet were at the edge of the first step.
“Spread your legs, my sweet, and stay in that position. Don’t move back toward the bed.”
“Yes, Master George,” I whispered. I felt vulnerable and very excited. It was amazing to me that a week ago I had been a virgin. Now, I was tied to a bedpost and begging to be fucked nightly.
I felt something smooth and cold rub against my backside. It was the feel of polished wood. It seemed to be about four inches wide.
“Since you’re already taken one spanking tonight we’ll keep it short,” Master George whispered in my ear. “About thirty or so? Maybe more. I like you in this position. We may use it more often.”
He continued to rub the wood against my ass and then paddled me with it lightly several times. I was enjoying the warm feeling when I heard a swooshing sound and the board landed firmly on my behind. I jumped and yelped. Against my already spanked bum the board caused considerable pain.
“No, no, no,” I whispered. “Too much. Please no.” I pulled against my restraints, trying hard to break free. I edged closer to the bed.
The swishing sound came, and the board landed again. “How quickly you forget. I’m in charge, Charlotte.”
“Stay in the position I put you in! Move back right now!” He landed the board three more times.
I moved my feet back to the edge of the step.
“I decide when it’s enough.”
“And you know how I love to see your reddened ass.”
He gave me ten quick smacks that brought big tears to my eyes. By the eleventh I was begging for more, begging for release.
He gave me ten more for forgetting his proper title, something he said I would probably never remember without correction. Then he pulled me back against him and entered me quickly, harshly squeezing my cheeks as he rode me.
I found my release after the first few minutes, screaming out his name as the waves of pleasure spread through my body I pulled against my bonds and he laughed.
“You’re my captive, my sweet. Forever at my mercy. He pumped harder and then found his own release, his hands moving around to caress my breasts.
“Forever my captive.”
We were awakened the following morning by screams coming from downstairs. George threw on a robe and ran out the door. It was still dark outside and lamps were lighting the hallways. I pulled on my robe and followed him out, wondering what had happened.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs I gasped. The front door was wide open. George was kneeling near a prone body. I took a step closer and saw the body was Geoffrey Edwards and he was very dead.
“And the last time you saw Mr. Edwards was several nights ago, when he verbally assaulted your wife at the Duke of Waterfield’s, is that correct, Lord Essex?”
The Inspector from the Metropolitan Police was sitting on the couch. A constable was sitting next to him, taking notes.
“That is correct, Inspector. He implied that my wife was a murderess, associated with the death of her first husband.”
The Inspector turned his gaze on me.
“Yes, I wired the authorities in Lennox, Lady Essex,” he whispered. “They indicated that your first husband’s death was
ruled an accident, but only due to a lack of evidence. They seem to think your husband was pushed.”
I cringed. It was happening again. “Where were you, Charlotte? Had you and Bernard fought? You didn’t really want to marry him, did you? This was your way out.”
George took a step toward the Inspector. “I don’t think I like what you’re implying, Inspector. My wife was in bed, with me, when Edwards was being dispatched.”
I blushed that he was being so blunt.
“Well, as it turns out, Mr. Edwards was stabbed,” the Inspector said. “Due to the lack of blood, we assume he was killed elsewhere and brought to your doorstep to cast suspicion your way.”
The Inspector turned to me. “There is one more thing I would like to know, Lady Essex. Were you and Mr. Edwards close? I understand he was quite upset about your marriage.”
I sat up straighter. “We had made arrangements to attend a play before Lord Essex and I...” I stopped, unsure what to say. Before Lord Essex took me over his knee? Before he showed me how pleasurable coupling could be? “Before my relationship with George began.”
George sat down next to me and put his arm around me, pulling me close and kissing me lightly on the temple.
“And have you seen him since the disagreement at the Duke of Waterfield’s, Lady Essex?”
I shook my head, tears clogging my eyes. “Are you sure you were downstairs, Mrs. Hudson. Did you and Bernard fight? Did that fight get out of hand? Did you push him in anger and he accidentally went over the edge?”
I shut my eyes, tears streaming down my face. When I shut them, I could see Geoffrey Edwards’ body on the front steps. I felt myself shudder.
“My wife has had enough, Inspector,” George said. “She’s received a terrible shock, as have we all. These questions, however, are upsetting her and I cannot allow that. You may return at another time if you wish, but I want you to leave now.”
The Inspector gathered his things and he and the Constable stood.
His Virgin Widow Page 5
