by Brit Blaise
Within seconds it became clear Lydia was holding court among the four eligible males present at the table. She sat between Mr. Gadner and Mr. Wright, her beautiful face turning in first one direction and then the other as the two vied for her attention.
She had never looked more radiant with her hair pulled high in an intricate arrangement. Like all of the daughters of Lord Clayton's, she bore the characteristics of the mother—dark hair, dark blue eyes and a complexion as pale as Catharine's.
On the opposite side of the table, Caroline Francis sat between Arden and Mr. Worth. While her hair had grown back since Catharine had last seen her, her dour countenance had not changed. She glowered at Mr. Worth, causing Catharine to wonder what he'd done to anger her so soon.
"How dare you apply that scripture—"
"Caroline Francis!"
Lydia's voice made both Caroline Francis and Catharine jump. Lydia smiled sweetly, as though she hadn't just yelled at the top of her lungs. “You know Papa forbids us to speak of religion at the dinner table."
Caroline Francis directed her glare, only moments before aimed at Mr. Worth, to dear Lydia. “This isn't Papa's table, is it? It's Catharine's.” Caroline Francis turned to stare at Arden. “Or is it? Should you be at the head of the table now, Lord Harcourt? Why haven't you taken your rightful place?"
While she wanted to tell her sisters the good news, Lady Catharine wanted to speak about the babe in private.
"Please call me Arden. When I hear the name Lord Harcourt in this setting, my uncle comes to mind."
His words caused Catharine to recognize how easily the name Arden came to her. She hated to any connection to her late husband.
"Do you draw?” Mr. Gadner asked over Arden's request.
He must be making a veiled message about her journal. Convinced Mr. Gadner was her masked lover, she wished to discourage her sister before she formed an attachment to him. “Lydia prefers animals—live ones.” Did that come out right?
"Papa sold all of the horses."
Had Catharine heard correctly? “Why?"
"He was attempting to raise money to bring you home. However, your husband set too high a price upon you."
"Raise money?” While they weren't in the position of her late husband, Catharine believed there was more than enough money to live comfortably without selling their livestock to raise funds.
"Your late husband blackmailed Papa, so he had no choice but to offer you up. It's left him a broken man."
Caroline Francis must be imagining this, though Catharine had never thought her a fanciful woman. Lady Catharine's father would never have done such a deplorable thing. However, when she looked at Lydia, the truth became clear. “Why me?"
"Because you were young enough, the despicable man could be assured of your innocence. Of the rest of us, he had indelicate questions."
"Ignorance is more likely. How could Papa do this?"
"My uncle resorted to any level of deception to get what he wanted. Take Mr. Wright—my uncle fleeced his father in a business venture and brought the entire family to ruination. Or Mr. Gadner—Lord Frederick compromised his mother and, as a result, his father shot himself in the head.” Arden spoke in a controlled voice.
This didn't make sense. How could Frederick compromise a woman when he had no control of his little member? There was so much Catharine failed to understand about the ways of the world.
"In my case,” Mr. Worth said, “it's not nearly a tragic. Lord Frederick wanted a piece of land passed down for generations in my family. My oldest brother would've inherited, but my father had a love of cards and strong drink. I wasn't directly affected since I'd already discovered my head for business."
"But you aspire to becoming a cleric,” said Caroline Francis.
"Atonement for my sins,” Mr. Worth said.
Only Arden hadn't spoken of what her husband had done to him yet, and his fellows watched him with anticipation.
"I believe my father, who was to inherit this estate, died by his brother's hand. And it would appear Lady Catherine still holds claim to her husband's estates. At least for the next six months."
Lydia's eyes grew wider than they had with all the stories of Catharine's husband's depraved acts.
Murder? Murder of his own brother? Could it be possible? And then Catharine realized it wasn't the accusation of murder that had caused the widening of Lydia's big blues. It was the thinly hidden reference to her condition.
Caroline Francis rose to her feet, causing all of the gentlemen to do likewise. She sat back down again so fast her chair made a sound when her backside hit it. The men took their seats again, and the tension from the earlier confessions seemed to be broken.
"But you can't be—"
"Caroline Francis.” Catharine spoke quickly before her sister revealed the true state of her marriage. Her correspondence with her sisters had complained about the unlikelihood Frederick would ever plant his seed.
The night of the masquerade ball was the first time a man's juices had flooded her womb, leaving no doubt to the identity of her babe's sire ... the jester. She couldn't allow the truth to come out.
"I'm carrying Frederick's child, and if it's a boy, he will inherit this estate."
Caroline Francis made a rude noise, which made Arden laugh with gusto. Catharine winced.
"You were asking about drawing, Mr. Gadner,” Lydia said a little too loudly. No doubt she'd hoped to redirect the conversation, but she couldn't have chosen a more regretful topic.
Murder. Cuckolding. And now sexual renderings.
"Catharine and our oldest sister are the artists of the family,” Caroline Francis said.
"Have you ever heard of a drawing called Lady in a Box?” Arden asked.
If she hadn't been about to sip her mulled wine, she wouldn't have choked. If not for choking, Catharine wouldn't have spit on the front of Arden's bright white shirt. Since his chest was so wide, it made a considerable target she couldn't have missed had she tried.
Lydia gasped, while Caroline Francis delivered her napkin to his right hand, splayed open in surprise.
The servants brought the soup and gave Catharine a moment to collect her thoughts, while she stared down at the top of her bodice.
"Lady in a Box...” Lydia said. “I can't recall."
"If you'd seen it, you would remember,” Mr. Worth said.
"I know I'll never forget,” came from Mr. Gadner.
"Nor I,” said Mr. Wright.
All of them! All four men from her reenactment of Lady in a Box sat at her dinner table. How had she missed it? What should she do? What could she do? Who was her jester?
She did the only thing to come to mind ... she fled.
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CHAPTER 8
"Tell us everything and don't hold back.” Caroline Francis curled, with legs pulled tight against her thin frame, on the chaise near the fireplace, while Lydia sat on the bed with Catharine.
Nothing was what it seemed. While she would have to deal with her father sacrificing his youngest daughter to Lord Frederick's hands, she didn't blame her sisters. “Frederick died while attempting to perform his husbandly duties. I already knew he'd planned to attend a club he frequented because he had a costume ready for the event. I also understood this club catered to unsavory characters and lewd and lascivious acts of a sexual nature. And I wanted to see for myself."
"Just like Mary."
Catharine knew that, among the four, Mary was considered to be the most promiscuous. She'd always been closest to Mary for that reason, but she'd never divulged the bent of her thoughts to any of her sisters.
"I'm like Mary and proud of it, except for the predicament thrust on me because of my curious nature. I brought my fantasies to life in a journal, which fell into the hands of my husband's nephew."
"Lady in a Box."
Catharine winced at Lydia's tone. “Yes, it's one of my renderings."
"Where is it? I want to see it,” Carolin
e Francis insisted.
"It was never returned."
"Then be very specific about what we would find in ‘Lady in a Box.’”
"The rendering was my naked likeness surrounded by four naked men at the same time. Two buried inside my lower openings, and my hands were on the cocks of the other two males. I drew four smaller pictures, surrounding the final rendering in the middle. Each showed what was happening individually with each man, so there could be no doubt what occurred to the lady inside the box of male bodies."
"What an imagination. No one would believe you possible of ... I don't believe anyone would be capable.” Lydia face was red as she spoke.
Caroline Francis was the exact opposite as she clapped her hands in appreciation.
"Not only is it possible ... I performed the rendering that night with four men at a private club the same night my husband died."
"You didn't!” Lydia turned even redder. “How could you meet with these four men at the same time?"
Caroline Francis jumped from the chaise. “You fucked all four men?"
Fucked? Where had her sister picked up such language? “You might say that. I dressed Henry in Frederick's costume and went to Frederick's club to attend a masquerade. I knew it would be a debased gathering and I intended to—"
"And there is a baby coming?” Lydia spoke over her.
"All of the men wore masks that night. I never saw their faces, but only one could have given me a baby. The one who wore a jester mask and the same who has come to this room for the last week to..."
"So I was right—the baby isn't Fredericks. Whatever will you do?"
"What can I do?"
"The rake will marry you, of course. How can we determine which one?"
"Because of their stature, it could only be one of two, Arden or Mr. Gadner."
"Not Mr. Gadner,” Lydia said, making Catharine wonder if her sister had formed an attachment.
"My reenactment of Lady in the Box is the first time I experienced coming, the intense pleasure wrought from the act."
Lydia nodded. “Mary told me about it. Is it as wonderful as she says?"
"More than wonderful. There's no way to describe it."
Caroline Francis head toward to door. “I'm going to find Mr. Worth."
"Now?"
"He's a very attractive man."
Lydia grabbed hold of Caroline Francis’ hand. “You can't seduce a cleric."
"Of course not. But even a cleric needs a wife."
"Is Caroline Francis serious?"
Caroline Francis’ hasty departure even surprised Catharine, but who was she to cast aspersions? “She's two years older than I, and without the benefit of marriage."
Lydia inched off the bed. “I believe I'll find Mr. Gadner and demand an accounting of him, too."
* * * *
Arden walked the sitting room in front of his friends, accomplices who sat about. “I should've known she hadn't married him willingly. I've made a mess of this. If only I could be assured she carries my child."
"You've driven yourself and us insane since that first night with her. I believe you are smitten, which puts us all in a bit of a pickle. I fear our relationship will suffer when you wed her."
"Wed her? I think not."
"Then you are a fool,” Thomas said. “Maybe I should ask her."
Wortworth pounded his beefy fist on the mantle. “I daresay one of us has to marry her. She is the victim of both your uncle and us. And although we tweaked her about the rendering, you know you didn't allow us to see her journal. When all of us spoke of viewing her art at the table, I thought perhaps you might find your tongue to deny my claim and thus reveal you are the only one to have seen it."
Arden jerked his fingers through his hair at both temples. “It hardly matters since you all ... we all did much more than look upon her rendering ... we performed her innermost desire. I could hardly be expected to take a woman as my wife who has—She is fitting for a mistress, but clearly not a wife."
Thomas balled his fists and stepped toward him.
Does he intend to fight for the lady's honor?
"Then you lose all claims, and she'll be mine!” Thomas stated.
The door flew open and her sisters came into the room, one after the other. “One of you will marry her."
"This is a private matter.” Arden motioned for them to leave. This situation was already raging out of control, and he didn't need a woman's sensibilities.
"Sirs, please understand me. I won't be denied, since the act perpetrated upon our sister was hardly private. What the four of you did to her is beyond the pale, and no man in his senses would deny that.” Lydia spoke with strong emotion.
The younger, Caroline Francis stepped forward. “Which one of you ... which was ... in front?"
He wouldn't use his friends to avoid his responsibilities. Still, how could they know with any certainty the child was his? “I hated my uncle. What kind of a father would I make to his child? It is rumored he died while rutting upon her."
"It is out of the question to bring Lord Harcourt into this,” Lydia said. “Rutting is a fitting description, since the man almost never managed to accomplish what he attempted in bed in all the years of their marriage. His belly was so great it dwarfed that part of him, already too small, and Catherine said she only had to remove her clothes to render him useless. The baby belongs to one of you.” By the time she finished, her face was as red as Worth's ascot.
The woman has gumption.
She caught her breath and continued, “It wasn't her husband in the costume. It was his man, Henry. You have a witness of what transpired that night."
"Bloody hell!” How could he have been so blind?
"Mr. Worth, I would have a word with you alone,” Caroline Francis said.
Why did she want Wortworth away from his fellows?
Worth shrugged and headed for the door with her following close.
The remaining sister, Lydia, stared at Thomas with concern in her brilliant blue gaze, so like that of Lady Catharine. “Sir, I demand you tell me your part in this. And while it pains me, even just meeting you, will you do right by my sister, if this pompous ass does not?"
Arden had to end this. “I will do what is necessary, since I am the only one who could have gotten her with child that night."
"Godspeed telling my sister."
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CHAPTER 9
Catharine stared at the figure in the darkness, only this time sadness pushed aside the desires laying on the surface. Who had she been fooling? She wasn't a woman who could just bed a man and not lose her heart. The jester's mask on his face revealed his intent to continue with the ruse.
"I trust I haven't disturbed you?"
"Sir, you have disturbed me a great deal, both by your presence here now and in the past. I want you to leave.” The words were difficult to get out and caused a pain inside her chest.
"That isn't possible. Could you light the lamp?"
This was a different tactic. She lit the lamp before looking back to him. The garish mask made her shiver. However, when he reached for it, she took in air so fast she choked.
He hooked a finger under the chin of his mask and pulled it back over his head, taking the wig with it. Arden!
All along she'd known it must be the devastatingly handsome Arden behind the mask. Arden, whom she suspected rued the day he'd met her, let alone what had happened at the masquerade ball.
"I've been ruled by hatred for my uncle for so long, I may have made a grave error. It seems my fellows believe I've acted rashly with regard to you. What would you have me do to right this situation?"
"Is this a trap? If I reveal my husband as inept, will you not have grounds to cast me out, even if the child is yours?"
He gave a deep sigh. “With each passing second, it's made clear I'm at fault. I have acted as dishonorably as Uncle Frederick. Above all—and this I know to be true, my lady—I want you with a desire thus fixed u
pon me until I've no need for another woman. Of this I'm certain."
"For the sake of my unborn child, I cannot be your mistress. I've been too easily led by feminine parts ... my pussy, if you will, that I've neglect to use foresight."
Arden dropped his cape and stood naked before her. His great cock caught her attention. There were so many other things she would do with it, should she have the chance. Perhaps just one more time...
He rolled down upon her bed catching her upward and bringing her to rest upon him. “You can deny you want this, but your lack of clothing says otherwise when you knew the possibility I'd join you tonight."
True. She'd purposely taken off her gown. Her head, heart and pussy had warred with one another and her pussy had won. Plastered to his naked chest, it was hard to formulate a coherent thought. “From that first night, I've thought of little else but the jester and his marvelous cock. I know what that makes me, but after this night, I'll never take off my gown for you again. My door—"
He brought his hands down to her legs and drew them apart to straddle him. She pushed up to sit with his cock resting along her slit.
"Make use of me, as I have used you,” he said.
She reached up to the ribbon at her nape and pulled it free, while giving her head a shake. Her hair cascaded around her and hid much of her very visible naked parts. Arden hissed as if she'd struck him.
* * * *
A witch, indeed. Her hair fell between Arden's legs to tickle his swollen balls. They tucked and nearly made him explode.
He grabbed hold of her shoulders to keep her still. Not once in his life had he ever lost his milk with so little provocation, and he didn't intend to do so now. The minx wiggled on his cock, indifferent to his plight. Her raven hair shrouded her pale skin like a mink pelt in the snow. Her plump lips wanted a kissing...
Hooking his hand at the back of her head, he directed her downward, before taking her head in both hands. She couldn't escape him. Her breath assaulted him first and made it difficult not to become forceful in nature. “Kiss me."
