‘Jessica?’ her father said at the door and she turned a frigid expression on him.
‘Goodbye, Mr. Gordon.’ And then she looked straight ahead. She sat rigid with her hands folded in her lap as a footman closed the door and the carriage pulled away. Wilbur Gordon was shocked that his beloved Jessica would speak so and he suddenly had a doubt that he had made the right decision. Was she soiled? He asked himself again. She doesn’t act like it. He had acted in panic, instead of deliberation. As a businessman he should have known better, panicky decisions always were more expensive. He shook his head and watched her carriage vanish into the city streets, not realising that this was the costliest mistake of his life, because he would never see his favourite daughter again.
Jessica sat with her spine like a ram-rod as the tears poured down her face. Anthony was just going to pat her hand as a comfort, but she jerked her hands away from him and shuffled across the seat to distance herself. Slowly she got to grips with her emotions and decided there and then that they were the last tears she would ever shed for her family or herself. Crying didn’t get you what you wanted and only caused more trouble.
The coach journey was difficult and long from London and Anthony secured rooms for them at a couple of inns along the way. On the first night, at dinner, Anthony tried to be jovial, but he was wasting his time.
‘I understand.’ He said softly. ‘It must be very difficult to accept that your husband has gone to war.’ His hazel eyes softened with compassion.
‘What is difficult to accept is that your brother agreed to marry me when he doesn’t even know me.’ Jessica said firmly. ‘And please don’t give me that rubbish that’s been bantered about by the gossips. Your brother was in the garden with Lady Saddleworth, not me!’ she said harshly, ‘and it was very badly done by him to involve me in his amorous affair!’
‘Do you mean to tell me that he didn’t have you in Devon’s garden?’ Anthony asked in astonishment.
‘He did not. I was saddened by some terrible news and had retreated to the garden for a weep and I happened to see Lady Saddleworth come out of the bushes, followed not two minutes later by your brother and the next thing I know it’s me with my skirt around my waist!’ Jessica said in disgust. ‘I would hope to have a little more decorum than to find myself in such a position.’
‘My father is not going to be pleased about this. I wondered why David was in such a hurry to get away from the church.’ He smiled gently. ‘Now I understand. He didn’t want to consummate the marriage just in case he wants to have it annulled.’
‘I agree with you. He seems intent on saving his own skin at the expense of other people. I’m actually quite glad, because your father might be prevailed upon to dissolve the marriage if I try hard enough.’
‘Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t. He’ll only do that if David requests it and I don’t think he will while he’s in Portugal.’
‘What’s your father like?’ Jessica asked.
‘I would never have described him as a very fair and upright man and seeing the underhand way you have been treated; my assessment hasn’t changed overly much. Are you under age?’
‘No, I’m twenty one, but my father wasn’t going to let me say no and now it’s too late.’
By the time they reached the family seat at Ross-on-Wye, Jessica and Anthony had developed a firm friendship, but nothing prepared her for the barrage of abuse she received from her new father-in-law.
She stepped out of the carriage, resting her hand on Anthony’s and was met at the top of the stairs by the officious butler Richmond, who looked down his nose at her as if she was a lump of horse muck.
‘His Lordship is in the study, my Lord and he will see her in there.’ Jessica felt Anthony bristle beside her.
‘Richmond! In future you will address my sister-in-law as Her Ladyship or Lady Jessica. Do I make myself clear?’ Anthony demanded and Richmond squirmed and nodded consent.
Anthony led the way and already Jessica was filled with trepidation. He knocked on the door and opened it at the invitation to do so.
‘Ah! Here is the little baggage.’ Stephen Carruthers said callously. ‘It took you long enough to get here. Were you busy servicing my son on the way?’ Jessica was confronted with an elderly man well into his dotage, sitting in a bath chair. He had almost white hair and was wizened and wrinkled. ‘Good I’m glad the little whore has arrived, Anthony. I dismissed the nurse this morning so she’ll have plenty to do now. There’ll be no time for balls or fucking in the bushes!’
Jessica sucked in a huge breath in shock at the ribald language of the Earl.
‘My Lord that is a gross exaggeration. At no time did I do anything in the bushes with your son!’ Jessica said coldly and speared the old man with her coldest look.
‘Who are you kidding? You misses are all the same, chasing any title you can get your hands on.’ He spluttered. ‘I heard about you at your first ball trying to get your hands on the Duke of Warwick’s title. He soon scuppered you didn’t he?’ The old man cackled like an old witch. ‘Come here and let me have a taste of your wares!’
Jessica saw the paper knife on the desk and she picked it up and pointed at the man in the chair. ‘If you so much a lay one hand on me I shall cut your throat!’
‘Don’t play the virginal miss with me!’ the old Earl shouted. ‘It doesn’t suit you.’
‘My Lord. I am a virgin and if your son had hung around after the service he would have been able to swear to it.’
‘What’s this?’ the old man looked at Anthony, who had been quietly standing in front of the fire.
‘David left immediately for Portugal from the Church, father.’
‘Why would he do such a thing? There must be an heir! I told him that he had to get her with child before he left!’
‘Well he didn’t!’ Jessica said coldly. ‘He couldn’t get out of the church fast enough. Perhaps he still had to say goodbye to Lady Saddleworth, before his ship sailed!’
‘Saddleworth?’ the old man almost screeched. ‘I told him to finish with her month’s ago!’ he spat.
‘Well, Davey didn’t listen. Who do you think he was really with in the garden at Devon’s ball?’ Anthony said scathingly.
‘Damn and blast the impertinent boy!’ the old man fumed and levelled a baleful stare at Jessica. ‘Well, I don’t care to try and change anything. If you produce an heir in eight month’s I’ll believe you are the little whore my son fucked in the gardens at Lord Devon’s ball. If you don’t I might just believe that you are being honest, but be warned. Richmond doesn’t like you and he can be a hard task master.’
‘Father? If Richmond lays a hand on her I’ll kill him myself. Make sure he understands that if she produces an heir it will be my brother’s child, not his bastard!’
The Earl of Dean muttered and grumbled but eventually nodded his head, called for Richmond and explained that she was untouchable.
Jessica was shown to her room by the housekeeper, Mrs. Herbert. It was a very nice suite, with a sitting room and bedroom, all decorated in royal blue and gold. The velvet curtains around the bed looked new as did the thick eiderdown over the mattress. All Jessica’s trunks were stacked in the corner of the room and her maid had the top one open and was sorting the clothes out into the chest of drawers.
‘This is Mary, My Lady. She will see to your needs.’
‘Thank you, Mrs. Herbert.’ Jessica said calmly.
‘You shouldn’t let the old Earl upset you with his harsh language and things, he’s really quite harmless.’
‘Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Herbert.’ Jessica said again. The housekeeper took the hint and retreated. Jessica sat in a chair beside the window and looked over the front aspect of the hall. She could see the River Wye glimmering in the distance, as it meandered past the edge of the property.
She had only had time to remove her cloak and bonnet, when she was summoned to the Earl’s study again. She was on her way down the stairs when she was waylai
d by Richmond. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, his other hand grabbing at her throat and pushing her up against the wall. It was such a surprise to Jessica that she squealed.
‘You can scream all you like, but one day your body will be mine.’ Richmond whispered malevolently in her ear. He pressed his body against her in a most lascivious fashion, making her shudder with disgust.
She didn’t struggle, but remained calm and aloof. She stared into the butler’s black eyes and thought how cold and emotionless they were. Richmond was not much taller than she was, but he exuded malevolence. He was round faced, like a cherub, but was almost bald. His face was tinged with cruelty and a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. Up close like this she couldn’t avoid the bitter, oniony smell of him and it almost made her gag.
‘Release me, Mr. Richmond.’ She whispered with the last of her breath and as he relaxed his grip she smiled. ‘You can’t touch me until I’ve produced my husband’s heir. So I would keep your hands to yourself for now.’
‘I’ll have you!’ he spat in her face and turned abruptly away, stomping down the stairs.
‘Not if I can help it.’ Jessica muttered and was thankful for every bruise and bump she had received from her boisterous brothers. She walked calmly to the study, knocked on the door and waited. She heard the Earl summon her in and opened the door.
‘What the devil do you want, girl?’ he demanded like a petulant child.
‘You sent for me My Lord.’ She said calmly and evenly, not allowing the flicker of annoyance to register on her face. Is he senile? She asked herself.
‘Did I?’ he asked her and shook his confused head. At that moment a footman entered with his dinner tray. ‘Ah! Dinner!’ the old Earl said mischievously. ‘You can get busy straight away by feeding me my dinner!’ he cackled again. ‘And then you can bathe my body and ready me for bed.’
That night and for the next three years, Jessica wedged a chair under the door knob to stop anybody from entering the room during the night.
Chapter Four
London, May 1812
John Farrington felt his testicles cramp, grabbed her by the shoulders, rolled her vigorously onto her back and yet again yanked himself out for a gentleman’s finish in the sheets. He rolled off the woman beneath him and sighed in satisfaction.
‘Oh! Your Grace. That was fantastic!’ she murmured without any sincerity at all, making John snort with derision.
‘Really, Madam. You can’t possibly convince me of that. You’re like a whore and you tell me what you think I want to hear. I actually don’t care whether you think it was good or not. For me it was mildly satisfying.’ He said callously and climbed off the bed. He poured some water into the washstand basin and cleaned himself up while she spluttered from the bed.
He had picked her up in a known gaming den, somewhere in Soho and in the dim lighting she had looked relatively clean and presentable. Of course John had consumed at least two jugs of claret and maybe half a carafe of brandy, but he could still see the numbers on the cards and didn’t become so distracted by her that he left his winnings on the table. He sighed as he soaped his groin, checking his manhood for cuts, because the first time he’d had her up against the door, fully clothed and fucked her like a tuppenny whore, spilling his precious seed onto the carpet, then he’d stripped her clothes off and taken her on the floor, spurting his semen over her hot, sticky belly. She had finally managed to divest him of his clothing and persuaded him into bed, where she laved his manhood until he shot his load into her throat and finally she’d rode him like a demon, until he whipped her over on her back and yanked himself out to dribble the last of his sperm onto the sheets. At no time did he lose control of his faculties.
‘How can you say that, Your Grace. We have made wonderful love all night!’ she said.
As he rubbed himself dry with a towel he turned to her and found the sight of her naked body quite off putting. ‘My dear lady, it wasn’t love, it was sex! I was three sheets to the wind when I arrived here earlier this morning and if I’d been sober I would have gone home instead!’ He slipped his britches over his legs and fastened the buttons absently as he looked about for his stockings and boots. ‘How much do I leave on the dresser for you?’ he asked and ducked as the stopper from a brandy decanter was shied at his head. He pulled his stockings on, making sure they were secured by the buckles at his knee and forced his feet into his boots before picking up his shirt. He stood looking down at the well used woman on the bed as she sobbed in her pillow.
‘How can you be so hurtful?’’ she mumbled and looked up at his impressive height with a practiced pout. She looked like a petulant child at odds with her blatant sexuality.
‘It’s easy when you don’t mean anything. Nobody means anything.’ He said harshly as he pulled on his shirt. ‘I lost any finer feelings I had for the fairer sex when I made the mistake of marrying that whore Victoria Asquith.’ He shoved his cravat in his jacket pocket and struggled to get the tightly tailored coat over his substantial shoulders. He looked down on her as if she was a specimen under the microscope. ‘I used your body to satisfy mine, that’s all. There will be no repeat performance. If I see you out and about in Town I will ignore you, so don’t try and make a connection with me that doesn’t exist.’ He picked up his hat and gloves, went to the door, turned and bowed at her. ‘Thank you, Madam. It was satisfactory.’ He said coldly and left leaving the woman on the bed sitting amongst the rumpled linen with her mouth open.
John let himself out of the door and signalled his carriage which caught up with him as he got to the corner of St. James’s Street. ‘Home. George.’ He told the coachman as he climbed in and relaxed on the seat. He rested his head back and closed his eyes until the footman opened the door and cleared his throat.
‘Gosh, home already? That didn’t take long.’
‘Good morning, Your Grace.’ The footman said evenly as the Duke walked passed him. The butler was already standing with the door open. ‘Good morning, Your Grace.’ Butcher said firmly, trying to hide the small smirk on his lips.
‘Don’t smirk, Butcher. It doesn’t become your exalted position.’
‘Yes, Your Grace. Lord Edward arrived last evening, and has taken up the Green suite, as usual.’
‘Is he in now?’
‘No, Your Grace. I believe he is still losing money at some back room game in Soho.’
‘He’ll be destitute soon.’ John muttered.
‘The sooner, the better, Your Grace. Once you cut him off at the knees, our maids won’t have to avoid him.’
‘He’s not still trying to screw my maids is he?’ John asked indignantly as he stripped off his hat and gloves.
‘He is, Your Grace.’ Butcher said firmly. ‘I have advised Betsy to go and see her mother for the next few days and promised I would tell her when he was gone. All other maids have been restricted below stairs.’
‘Well, just watch him, Butcher. If anything goes missing I want to know.’
‘Yes, Your Grace.’ Butcher said and watched the Duke take the stairs two at a time.
John strode purposefully to the ducal suite where Masters, his valet was waiting for the footmen to finish filling a bath.
‘Your bath is nearly ready, Your Grace and I’ve added the usual concoctions for dealing with a sore cock and the pox!’ Masters smiled beatifically. He viewed it as his personal responsibility to keep the house of Warwick free from sexually transmitted diseases like syphilis and the clap.
John sniffed the water as the footman poured the last jug in. ‘That smells like an apothecary’s shop!’
‘It don’t matter what it smells like, Your Grace, only that it works.’ He sighed deeply. ‘You wouldn’t want to meet the woman of your dreams and give her the raging pox, now would you?’ Masters said as he pulled the jacket off the Duke’s arms, ‘there’d be no heirs down that road!’ and he turned and took it into the dressing room.
John quickly removed the rest of his clothes and
plunged into the hot water, lying back to soak his body. ‘There’s not much chance of that.’ John said and added softly, ‘I met her a long time ago and lost her in the same night.’
Masters arrived back and started to pick up the discarded clothes from the floor. ‘You didn’t give her an oral, did you?’ he asked impertinently.
‘No I didn’t.’ John said firmly, solemnly shaking his head.
‘Good. I wouldn’t want to make you gargle with your bath water!’ Masters replied and vanished again into the dressing room. John shook his head as he recollected the last time he admitted having oral sex and Masters had enlisted Butchers help to hold him while Masters forced the bath water in his mouth. It would have been so much easier just to gargle with the damned stuff instead of becoming all Ducal with those two and suffering a wrenched back and stiff shoulders the next morning! He leaned over and grabbed a glass from the table, dipped it in the water and sloshed it around his mouth, before spitting it back into the bath. The taste made him cough, but at least he wouldn’t get the pox from her kisses. John didn’t usually kiss the woman he was having sex with, but this woman had been like a leech. Her lips had been stuck somewhere on his body all night, including his mouth after they’d been around his cock.
‘Well done, Your Grace. Much better to do it off your own bat, than me having to get Butcher to help me force the issue. Will you be needing fresh clothes now, or are you going to bed for a while?’ He reached for the brandy decanter and poured a fresh glassful for the Duke.
The Duke and The Governess Page 5
