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English Rose Ch. 01

By: Gojenngo



Eighteenth Century England...

Sabrina sighed with relief as the last strains of music faded and the dance came to an end. Rising up from her curtsy, she allowed Lord Brigham to lead her off the dance floor and steer them towards the punch bowl. For the next few minutes they made polite conversation discussing minor matters of their families and careful to stay away from topics of business or politics.

Flipping open her fan, Sabrina was relieved when Lord Brigham took the hint and went to find her a refreshing glass of champagne. While an acceptable dance partner, he tended to drone on and on about the weather deeming it the only acceptable topic of conversation for a young, unmarried lady. Alone for the first time since she'd arrived with her family, Sabrina eased back into the shadows. Eyeing the crowd around her, she counted the hours until her disappearance wouldn't be considered rude.

A deep laugh caught her by surprise and drew her attention down the length of the room. Lord Douglas Radcliff, the next Duke of Spiegel, stood with several other young men engaged in a lively conversation. His unrestrained exultation seemed out of place in the staid London ballroom.

"Devilishly handsome, isn't he?"

Sabrina turned with a smile at the familiar sound of her dearest friend. "Ellie, I didn't hear you announced."

"I came with the Fergusons." Ellie returned her long time friend's embrace. Standing side by side, a person instantly noted the differences between the two young women. Lady Sabrina Montague was tall with black hair and green eyes. The modest evening gown she wore did little to hide the swell of her breasts or the curve of her vulouptuous hips. All of this stood in sharp contrast to Lady Eleanor Mills' petite frame, blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Where Lady Eleanor's pale beauty was considered the height of fashion, Lady Sabrina's dark good looks made her an exotic beauty. 

Despite the differences in their appearance, the two young women were similar in nature. They had met as children, their parents members of the ton, and had quickly become friends. Their similar stations in life ensured that they moved in the same circles and they often spent the evening together. "I hear he's considering marriage."

"Who?" Sabrina had already forgotten Ellie's earlier comment.

"Lord Radcliff," Ellie sighed at Sabrina's lack of interest in anything male. "Rumor has it he's looking for a wife. His father finally recognized him and now that he his nearing the end insist that his son take a wife." Ellie smiled and sipped at her champagne, her eyes taking stock of the men and women that swarmed around them.

Ellie was a fountain of information. Had it come from anyone else Sabrina would have brushed it off as simple gossip, however, Ellie had a knack for knowing everything that was going on within the ton. "Hmmm, interesting without a doubt but just because his father insists he marry doesn't mean that Lord Radcliff is actually looking for a wife."

The current Duke of Spiegel had suffered a series of set backs all of which led to him reluctantly legitimizing his bastard son. Two years ago the Duke had taken to his bed, his heart beating by sheer will alone. It was rumored that the Duke was ready to face death until his only legitimate son was killed in a carriage accident. Near death and faced with the likelihood of his title passing to a distant and unpleasant cousin the Duke did the one thing no one thought he would do. Calling Douglas to his deathbed the Duke ordered his solicitor to draw up the necessary papers to ensure that the title would pass to Douglas.

It was rumored that Douglas hadn't spoken with his father since and the old Duke was nearing the end. Sabrina had met the man on more then one occasion. He was a crotchety old man, blunt regardless of a person's status or gender and Sabrina had liked him immensely.

"You might want to consider him; he'll be a Duke soon and your position ensures a good match." Ellie suggested.

Sabrina gave Ellie a small smile, a hint of reproach in her eyes. "You know that's not possible."

Ellie reached out and gently touched her friend's arm. "I know you think that marriage is beyond you but I refuse to believe that. You are too young to put yourself out of reach and with Radcliff's own questionable paternity you wouldn't have to worry about..."

"No." Sabrina sighed at the struck look on her friend's face. She hadn't meant to snap but she had already resigned herself to her situation and it didn't help having Ellie constantly pushing her. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. Please, let's just drop it."

"No, I'm the one that should apologize. I know how you feel and yet I keep insisting." Ellie took Sabrina by the hand and pulled her out of the shadows. "Come, a few of the ladies are playing cards in the other room, why don't we join them?"

Sabrina smiled in relief as Ellie let the matter drop and followed her out of the ballroom. Later that night as she rode home with her mother and father, Sabrina found her thoughts turning again and again to Douglas Radcliff. She had seen him several times in the past year and a half but they had never been formally introduced. 

He was tall, even for a man, with broad shoulders and long legs that looked splendid no matter what he wore. Tonight he had been dressed in simple black and white, the cut of his clothes the only indication of his tremendous wealth. Most men today accented their bright colored coats with lace and jeweled buttons but Radcliff kept things simple. Recognizing the danger in continuing her current line of thinking, Sabrina pushed all thoughts of Radcliff from her mind and concentrated on what her mother was saying. It wasn't until she slipped between the sheets that Sabrina let herself feel the loss of a husband and family she would never know. 

At twenty Sabrina should have been married with a child on the way. Instead, she was enjoying her second Season in London before permanently retiring to the country. The second of three daughters, her older sister had married two years ago and next year her younger sister would make her debut. Since a match was no longer possible Sabrina couldn't expect her family to fund the cost of another year in London without any hope of arranging a marriage.

To the rest of the ton there was no obvious reason why Sabrina shouldn't be married. There had been several suitors last year, all of good linage and in good standing with the ton. In fact, her father had been in negotiations with three different gentlemen when tragedy struck. 

On her way home late one night, Sabrina's carriage had been attacked. At first thinking they were just footpads, Sabrina had insisted that her coachman cooperate. She didn't want anyone in her father's employ loosing his life over a few jewels. Prepared to hand everything over, Sabrina was surprised when the carriage door was yanked open and a large hand reached in and grabbed her.

Pulled off balance, Sabrina landed in the man's arms only to be handed up into the saddle of another and whisked away. For several seconds she was rendered speechless. There were three men, all on horseback. None of them spoke and so far none of them had done her any harm. It wasn't until they were leaving the limits of London that she questioned them.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"I've been ordered to take you to the country, ma'am." The burly voice behind her was quiet and gruff.

"By whom?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, it's not my place to say." Sabrina felt him shifting in the saddle behind her. "Here, it's going to be several hours before we reach our destination." A warm blanket enveloped her and Sabrina felt her head pushed against one strong shoulder. "Rest."

She didn't think she could but Sabrina was soon asleep. The long night and the fear did much to exhaust her and it wasn't until she was being lifted down from the horse that she woke. 

Jared placed her on her feet, silently offering her the support of his arm until she woke enough to walk on her own. He dismissed the others ordering them to the kitchen for a bite and then to their beds. Jared had been in his master's employ for several years. Through the times when there had been no money to pay his fee Jared had remained loyal but in this he had voiced his firm disapproval. Once again he sought to dissuade his master from his current course, all to no avail and now he delivered this young woman to her ruin. Time and time again throughout the night Jared had considered returning her to her carriage. A few words to the coachman would ensure that no one learned about the events of this evening and her reputation would remain in tact. In the end he did the only thing he knew how to do and followed his orders. 

Sabrina looked around. They had ridden around to the back side of a large cottage and into the stables. Despite the late hour, two stable boys immediately appeared and took over the horses. A moment later, Sabrina found herself escorted into the house where she was greeted by a stoic looking butler. 

"If you'll follow me, ma'am." 

With a nod, Jared handed Sabrina off and went to find his master.

Sabrina followed the butler up a flight of stairs and turned down the west wing of the house. After introducing himself as Martin, the butler showed her to a small suite of rooms. Once inside she saw that a bath had been prepared and a light supper laid out for her. 

"If there is anything you need, ma'am, feel free to call." Martin turned, leaving Sabrina to herself.

Sabrina jumped at the unmistakable sound of the door locking behind her. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms she hugged herself and for the first time acknowledged her fear. She had yet to see any other women in residence and she had no idea what was going on. She'd been away all night and her parents were likely frantic looking for her. If her driver had managed to return to their townhouse he had explained the situation and hopefully her family would come for her soon.

Sabrina had no idea how they would know where to find her. They had ridden throughout the night, often times diverting off the path and circling back. She had finally stopped trying to figure out where they were going and slept. If she didn't know where they were it was unlikely that her parents would have an easy time finding her.

Despite the few hours of rest she had been able to snag while riding a horse, Sabrina was weary. Slipping out of her dress and into the tub she sighed with relief as the warm water helped to ease the tension in her muscles. A fire had been built up in the hearth and after washing both herself and her hair Sabrina wrapped herself in a towel and brushed her hair out. Letting it dry while she ate she contemplated her surrounding.

From her place in front of the fire, Sabrina noted a large sitting room led off from the bedroom. It appeared to be an inside room with no other way out. The windows lining the outside wall overlooked the front drive. Glancing down, Sabrina could just make out the front door and no obvious way down. She was well and truly caught.

While generously furnished, Sabrina noted that several pieces of furniture were dull and their edges frayed. It would appear that the owner had either fallen on hard times or didn't care to keep up the small estate. Financial difficulty would explain her kidnapping. Hopefully, all anyone was after was some of her father's money. Finishing her light supper, Sabrina climbed upon the large four-poster bed and slipped between the sheets. She held on to the hope that she would be held until whatever rasom demand was paid and then allowed to return to her family. Thoughts of her family helped to alleviate some of her fear and she quickly fell asleep.

Sabrina woke with a start. Listening, she waited for the sound to come again but all was quiet. Despite the still night she knew she wasn't alone. Sitting up, she searched the room until her eyes fell upon the large, dark figure sitting in the chair across from the bed. "Who are you?"

He shifted, stood and started walking towards the bed. "For obvious reasons I prefer that we forgo with names."

A shot of warning flashed through her. Slowly she edged off the opposite side of the bed and stood clad only in her shift. "Why am I here?"

"I have...business...with your father." His voice was low and menacing.

"If your business is with my father then what do you want with me?" Even in the dark she could sense his smile and it wasn't pleasant.

"I don't expect that you'll understand. You have no idea the true nature of your father."

Sabrina felt her spin stiffen. Recognizing that she was at a serious disadvantage, nevertheless, she insisted, "My father is a kind and honorable man. If you have issues with my father and the way he conducts business then perhaps it has more to do with your methods then his."

"But, my dear," he drawled, "I'm taking a page from his book." He took another step towards her, she was poised for flight but he had no intention of letting her go. He had worked hard too get to this point, spent too much time putting his plans in motion and he intended to see it through to the end. 

"What do you mean?" Sabrina felt a moment of uncertainty. She knew that her father could be ruthless when it came to business and she wouldn't be surprised to find that this man was one of the many to pay the price.

He felt the familiar anger at the memories. "Your father was instrumental in the downfall of a good woman," he paused letting the silence add weight to his next words. "I can only repay him in kind."

The implication of his words slammed home and Sabrina felt her blood run cold. It finally dawned on her why he had waited until late at night to visit her. With the cover of darkness she couldn't make out his features and she would be unable to recognize him by size alone.

Panicked, Sabrina tried to run past him. Part of her knew it was useless, even if she made it there was no where for her to go. She had no idea where she was or how to get back to London. Still, some primitive part of her brain urged flight and she bolted towards the door.

He'd seen the intent in her eyes the instant before she moved. Reaching out he easily wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back up against his chest. It was like trying to hold onto a furious cat as she struggled in his arms. Lifting her off her feet, he carried her to the bed grunting in pain as she clawed at his arms with her nails and her heels beat against his shins. 

With little care, he threw her onto the bed and watched as she scambled backwards. He found no pleasure in her desperate flight and it was with simple resolve that he reached forward, grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her back towards him.

Sabrina gave a cry of alarm as she felt herself pulled across the bed. Looking back over her shoulder, she could see him standing at the edge of the bed, a dark shadow looming behind her. Her heart beat hard against her chest and the blood rushed in her ears. "No. Please." Eventually, she stopped trying to pull herself across the bed. Allowing him to flip her over onto her back, Sabrina kicked out with her feet. It was no use. His grip was like a vice, hard and unbreakable. Unable to free herself, Sabrina succeeded only at kicking her legs free from her shift.

He couldn't miss the growing expanse of exposed skin and took a moment to appreciate the sight of her long legs, delicate feet and slightly plump thighs. Whether it was her natural coloring or moments glimpsed in the sun, he didn't know but whatever it was gave her skin a slightly gold hue. 

Her struggles were growing more frantic as he drew her closer and more of her body was revealed to him. He had drawn her close enough that she sat on the edge of the bed, her feeting hanging towards the floor. Quickly, he step between her thighs, putting him where he needed to be while keeping her from kicking out with her feet. Grabbing her wrists, he bent her back onto the bed and pinned her hands over her head. 

Sabrina stared up at where he stood braced above her. The lower half of his body held her immobile while his hands on her wrists kept her from clawing at his face. Even in the dark she could see him staring at her chest. Looking down she saw that her struggles had caused the ties of her shift to come undone exposing her breasts. The sight brought renewed strength to her struggles and she bucked furiously trying to escape. 

"Easy, I don't want to hurt you any more than I have to." Moving slowly, he covered her body with his and brought his head down. He gave her time to discern his intentions so as not to surprise her. His goal was clear but he felt no need to unnecessarily frighten her in the process. Settling his mouth on hers, he kissed her lightly.

Sabrina went absolutely still. Holding her breath she waited while he explored the outside of her mouth. His lips pressed gently but firmly against her urging her to open up to him. When that didn't work, he released one of her hands and wrapped his fist in her hair. Pulling back violently he caused her to cry out. Taking advantage, he slipped his tongue between her lips and started exploring her mouth. 

He felt himself growing hard at her taste. He had no heart for rape but he had set his course and would see it through. When he'd first entered her room he had been unsure of how to proceed. He had thoughts of seducing her, of giving her pleasure despite what he was about to do to her. His own desire had been nonexistent until he saw her sleeping. It was the first time he'd seen her up close and personal and he was surprised by the voluptuousness of her feminine curves beneath the blanket. It had given him pause and he sat watching her for several minutes before she woke up. 

But as she lay struggling beneath him, her taste strong in his mouth, his desire grew. Releasing her hair, he grasped the front of her shift and rendered it to her waist. His breath caught at the sight of her breasts and he couldn't stop a whispered, "lovely." They were full and heavy, perfectly matched to her voluptuous frame. When he cupped them they filled his hands to nearly overflowing and her breath, coming in shuddering spasms, pressed them more firmly into his palms. Cupping them gently, he rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger until they were both hard and throbbing.

Sabrina shivered with humiliation. Instinctively, she tried turning away from him, covering her breasts with her arms. Realizing that her arms were once again free she ranked her nails down the side of his face.

"Bitch," he roared, rearing back. Pinning both wrists with one hand, he reached between their bodies and freed himself from his breeches. She was naked beneath her shift and he easily found her entrance. Despite her heat she wasn't ready for him but all thoughts of seduction had fled. In a rage, ignoring her struggles he thrust forward and penetrated her.

Sabrina screamed at the pain of being violently entered. Unprepared, her body protested as he forced his way into her, tearing her maidenhead and shattering her virtue. Defeated, all fight having left her, Sabrina sobbed even as his passage was made easier by her blood. She didn't know how much time had passed before he groaned in release and she felt a rush of warmth between her legs. 

He didn't rest with his release, instead pushing himself away and quickly fastening the front of his breeches. For a moment he stood over her, watching as she lay silent and unmoving. Her head was turned from him and the room dark but he didn't miss the tears that marked her face. He forced himself to look at her, to take note of the blood staining the inside of her thigs and the blanket beneath her. He had used her as an instrument in his revenge against her father. This young woman that was as innocent as his mother had been now lay broken and ruined by his hand. Feeling no satisfaction, he turned and left.


English Rose Ch. 01



My name is Chiku; I am a beautiful black girl from Africa, Nigeria to be precise. When I was 19 years old, my family moved to England. This was a massive change in culture for a young, attractive African girl. Although educated and very well-versed in English, I had always revered English girls. My ancestors had told me stories of colonial life during the heyday of the 'Great British Empire', so my journey was made with more than a sense of tender trepidation!

On arriving, we had so little money that my Mother was compelled to take a job as a domestic maid, working for a quite wealthy English family in the halcyon suburbia of a large City. We resided in what was classed as the inner-city and it consisted mainly of African or other immigrant nationalities. On occasions, I would travel with my Mother to the large, spacious detached house where she worked. I was allowed, albeit moderately, to form a sort of friendship with her mistress' daughter, who was just a month younger than myself. 

Victoria typified my image of the archetypal English rose: her beautiful, fulsome hair; a pale, slightly freckled complexion and an air of nonchalant superiority, as she gazed down at her new black companion!

Her dress was scintillatingly stunning, clearly purchased from an extremely, expensive designer store. It was rather short but emphatically showed off her toned legs! Though she was a small, petite girl, more so than me, her cleavage was more than ample, in fact substantially greater and more upright than my own breasts. This instantly brought pangs of jealousy!

While my Mother cleaned her Mummy's house, I was allowed to mix with Victoria, though she often treated me with deference, making it crystal clear that I was only the maid's daughter!

She was a very spoiled girl, Victoria, even having the temerity to tell my own Mother off in front of me. 

"Why have you moved my bracelet?" 

"Get me a drink!" 

"Tidy my room," 

These were just a few of her incessant demands. How dare her treat my Mum with such utter derision. It really hurt me, yet I had no choice but to accept the unfortunate circumstance as my Father and older sister had yet to find meaningful employment.

Sometimes, however, the English girl was sweet with me and we chatted intimately but in the company of her friends, she became a little prima donna, pouting orders to me as if her I was her maid and insulting me in any way that compounded her mood. In a strange way though, I felt a weird sense of belonging as she bossed and humiliated me. The subtle stare and menacingly foreboding look of this little white brat brought a horrific feeling of nervousness to me as I remembered my ancestors' tales of the lavish, pampered lifestyles of English girls in the Colonies!

As time passed, Victoria seemed to become more confident in her ability to boss me and I became more submissive. I always felt as intelligent as her, probably more so and I have no doubt many boys would find me as attractive but I still found myself beginning to worship her and I became accustomed in my role, even though my only reward was one of Victoria's dresses occasionally handed down to me. 

One glorious June evening, it was the summer ball and Victoria had been invited with a young man she had recently met. She summonsed me to her bedroom to show me her immaculate corseted-dress that she had bought for the evening. After seeing to her hair which she insisted I brush incessantly for at least an hour, I ironed her outfit for the night, while she took a bath, but was slightly aghast, on returning to her room, to find her attire only knickers and bra! 

This was the first time I had seen her semi-naked and I felt awkward yet found myself glancing admirably at her superbly toned figure. Years of gymnastics had clearly enhanced her physique and her superb, little bottom was any girl's dream. Black girls tend to have a more rounded derriere but hers was utter perfection personified! I eventually fastened up the back of her corset, after several bouts of insults from her, and now her breasts were a stunning picture that would have any man even girl totally pre-occupied. They were so pert and upright and I felt something I had never even remotely experienced before: an uncontrollable lust to caress and suck this white girl's bosoms!

I knelt down before her to fasten her exorbitantly priced shoes and became entranced as I glanced up her sexy thighs. The semblance of freckles on the back of her shapely legs compounded her innocence. I too had a well shaped body but black girls lack that air of virginity. 

We just can't equate to the purest belle of any ball, 'the English rose.'

"Get me a glass of baileys now," she barked hysterically. It always seemed to send her into an uncontrollable frantic state when she was dressing up for parties--- the pressure to eclipse her companions in fashion and looks. Victoria looked amazing; her gleaming gold jewellery superbly supplementing the beautifully decorated dress!

Her handsome boyfriend arrived. "Chiku, get Timothy a glass of wine," instructed Victoria. She then introduced me to him, labelling me as her personnal maid! He was clearly impressed and obviously besotted with his girl yet I noticed he cast an eye or two in my direction. I had changed into something rather flaunting that evening, as I also had an evening invitation. 

My skirt was short and black, with matching low-cut top and black high-heeled shoes. Though incomparable in expense and grandeur to his girlfriend's sensational outfit, I was pleased it still attracted his attention. He was courteous and polite to me, engaging in interesting conversation. This seemed to infuriate Victoria, who promptly ordered me to fetch her bag and makeup, and then dismissed me for the evening.

However, despite the white girl's vindictiveness and outright bitchiness, I would often dream about her: the beautiful long naturally blonde locks, her majestic appearance and most of all her perfect complexion, so sexy, so pure! Though my thoughts were usually immersed in fantasies around attractive guys, this girl captivated me totally! Yet she was such a horror at times, a little pampered, preening princess! I didn't have to be her maid; this was the 21st century, not 200 years ago. She treated me like her slave. It was derogatory. Why should I put up with it? One day I would walk away but for now----

As time passed, I would often sleep over at Victoria's house and frequently now, I was allowed to massage her. Usually she wore panties and bra but on one occasion that she called me into her bedroom; she was completely naked, lying face down on her large king-size bed. I was really shocked but my body tingled with excitement and anticipation. I was mesmerized just touching her adorable skin; it felt almost sacred to a black girl. Most Africans, both men and women, could only dream of such an incomparable honour!

I always began with an effleurage on her feet than working up the back of her thighs, intensely squeezing the subtle tones of her muscles. It made me embarrassingly wet only this time as I moved upwards to continue kneading her back area, Victoria, in an unusually compassionate voice, asked me to massage her bottom. My heart raced with delirium as I felt her pert little bum and pulled the cheeks rapidly sideways. Victoria had such smooth, silky skin; unblemished, utterly delightful. I then infused the aromatherapy oil into her back and neck area. Normally, then, she would turn over allowing me to continue on the frontal aspects of her legs and arms.

Today, though, in her exposed nudeness, I expected her to request her dressing gown but to my wonderful astonishment, this gorgeous goddess turned herself over, leaving me bewitched and bewildered as I pondered my next effleurage!

Her fanny was completely shaved and so, so inviting. I wanted desperately to touch her as she lay there motionless. Here was my young, innocent mistress; this cosseted, little English girl, lying before her African maid totally denuded and with such a cute, sweet pussy. It was heavenly--- absolute paradise--- the golden ticket! 

For the first time, as I stood fully clothed above her, I felt a sense of power over my white mistress! 

I continued massaging her lower legs, gradually increasing the length of my manoeuvres to incorporate her gleaming thighs. As I rubbed the insides, my hands were so close to her pussy. I felt that Victoria was aroused, as was I, and then almost without any rumination, I began gently stroking her pussy. She said nothing so I continued fingering her. She was unbelievably wet. I played with her clitoris for several minutes then delved deeper thrusting my two foremost fingers forwards, instigating cries of joyous satisfaction for my white miss. I then began to lick her clitoris, sucking and penetrating with my tongue and lips. Black girls are really good with their tongues and our pouting lips know no match! Victoria was wild, frantically flinging her arms upwards to grab the rails of the bed. She was screaming and shrieking with ever-escalating wails and rapidly increasing intenseness! 

"Oh Chiku," she cried, "Please." Oh----- then a roar that nearly decimated the whole house. Victoria had experienced her first real orgasm!! I then began sucking her beautiful breasts. They seemed even more complete than ever. I fondled and caressed them. They were magnificent. How could a girl so petite have such impressive bosoms? I idolized them; I probably would have spent the day immersed in them but just then our Mothers returned. Mine had been assisting hers on a shopping expedition. Victoria hastily re-installed her garments and tried to restore calm to her hot, flushed appearance!

We repeated our indulgences again, even more enthrallingly, a couple of days later then the following weekend, as we chatted together, Victoria ordered me to remove my clothes. I felt ashamed and quietly declined. 

"How dare you disobey me girl," she shouted, 

"You will do as I say, understand me!"

"Yes Miss," I reluctantly uttered. I stripped down to my lacy red knickers and similar bra, Victoria, also undressed to reveal white designer panties and matching bra top. We stood together. The English girl gave me that haughty gaze then instructed me to remove my knickers and bra. Though I had enjoyed our previous fun, I felt very uneasy about revealing my nudity yet I dared not disobey.

Soon, we were both naked; both totally engaging yet totally contrasting! My pussy was very hairy, like the majority of black girls and though my breasts were considerably smaller than Victoria's, my nipples seemed more distinctive. The white girl seemed fascinated by my bottom, as she methodically examined me. She loved being bossy and treating me sub-ordinately though I now felt an urge to teach her a lesson or two! That emotion though was firmly diminished from my thoughts as the white girl ordered me to the floor in unequivocal fashion! 

I began licking her feet and working upwards but after some time, during which we both became exceedingly wet, she told me to lie down on the bed. I wondered what was next. Maybe she intended to pay back my kindness, massaging and pleasuring me for a change. I heard her rifling through her extensive wardrobe till she obviously had clasped hands on what she was looking for. 

"Chiku,"she said, "Do you worship your little white mistress or resent me?" 

"Tell me the truth,"

"Both miss," I said, feeling scared but trying to be honest. 

"I think you have been unnecessarily mean to me yet I absolutely adore you."

"I want you to be my maid forever, waiting on me hand and foot, pleasing and pleasuring me whenever I want you. That's what a white princess deserves from her black maid, isn't it?"

I was too intimidated to argue.

"Even when we both marry, I want you still to be mine."

"Yes miss; I'll always be yours Miss Victoria."

She then whipped me several times with one of her many belts. It was almost like a power-crazed gesture showing who was in charge and making sure I complied with her whims and desires. 

The pain was excruciating but afterwards we hugged and made love. My emotions were all over the place; an abundant mixture of anger, regret, love and contentment! We lay engrossed for what seemed an eternity!

The ultimate anomaly- the pureness of the most beautiful, English rose; this rich, spoiled white girl next to the dark, chocolaty complexion of her black maid!



English Rose Ch. 01



Sabrina waited until he was gone before slowly rising from the bed. She was stiff and sore and the skin between her legs was tender. Dipping a corner of her torn shift in a pitcher of water she bathed herself before crawling back into bed. She lay in the dark clutching a pillow to her chest trying to control the tremors. It was only when the first rays of light breached the windows that she was able to let herself sleep.

She slept late, waking only when Jared entered bearing a tray of hot chocolate, toast and fresh fruit. Burying herself deeper under the covers, Sabrina watched warily as he cleared the dishes from the night before.

Jared moved with quick efficiency, careful to keep his eyes from the bed. "Good morning, ma'am. One of the maids will be up shortly with your dress and a bath. The master thought you might like to have it laundered. You'll find a robe in the armiore that should do until then." Jared gave her a quick glimpse and started for the door. "I'll be escorting you home in a few days," he said, adding quietly, "just as soon as you're able to travel."

Sabrina watched him leave, the door locking behind him. Her appetite had yet to return but she sipped the hot chocolate gratefully. True to his word, a maid arrived and helped her to bathe and dress, curling her hair and even adding a bit of rouge to her cheeks.

Alone, Sabrina stood in front of the mirror and considered herself. She didn't look any different. A little paler then usual and the rouge not her normal color but otherwise it was the same green eyes that stared back at her. She had always thought that losing her virginity would somehow change her, mark her as different in some comprehensible way. Perhaps it would have if her virginity had gone part and parcel with marriage.

Raising one hand to her face she considered the sharp angle of her jaw, the high arch of her brows and the fullness of her lips. She was beautiful. She'd always known that, had been told often enough by family, friends and admirers. Yet she'd always known that it would be her position as the daughter of a duke and her dowery that would ensure a good match. The pragmatic part of herself understood this and had accepted it long ago. However, there was that part of her that was just a girl and had dreamed of marriage and family, had hoped for friendship with her husband and maybe even some day love.

Staring at herself in the mirror, knowing that beneath the modest ball gown stood a woman touched by man, Sabrina knew that any hope of marriage and children was gone. On wooden legs she turned from the mirror and made her way to a window seat. It was Thursday and she was due to lunch with Ellie in the park, outside the day promised to be warm, the perfect day for a picnic. Absently, Sabrina wondered what her folks would give as her excuse to Ellie. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be the truth. 

The truth was almost more then she could bear. Unbidden, moments from the night before floated to the surface. Once again she could feel his hands holding her down, the weight of him pressing her into the mattress and the pain of him tearing into her. All of it came crashing down, threatening to suffocate her. Her chest felt tight, as if he really was once again pressed against her. It wasn't until her vision started to dim and bright spots of light burst beneath her eyelids that Sabrina realized that was holding her breath against crying out.

For the next several moments it was all she could do to breath. She forced herself to focus on taking each breath and letting it out until she felt some of the tension leave her body. The panic gone, Sabrina tried to decide what to do next.

Without her virtue there were few options for her. Her station in life prevented her from engaging in academics or working as a nanny. More than likely, her father would order her either to the country where she would remain or to her sister's, if her brother would have her. She'd alway loved the country but her sister's would allow her the chance to spend time with her nieces and nephews. There would be no children for herself but she could take what joy there was in being a dotting aunt.

Sabrina frowned at the idea of being an old maid in her sister's house. She'd always lived an active life and stretched her independence as far as society would allow. The thought of living her life vicariously through her sister left a bitter taste in her mouth.

That left the country where there was little to do but read, pen notes and ride out into the surrounding area. All very fine for the summer but a lifetime? Where did that leave her? As long as she was the daughter of a duke, Sabrina would be confined to living a quiet life of solitude. But what if she wasn't the daughter of a duke? What if she were to step outside her appointed role as obedient daughter? Could she risk the quiet, comfortable life she was destined to for something else? What else was there? Agitated, Sabrina stood and paced the room. She needed to weigh all of her options, even those that were previously closed to her.

Sometime later, Sabrina sat down heavily into one of the chairs before the fire. She had come up with a number of ideas. Unfortunately, none of them were very realistic. She had been forced to admit that her life so far had done little to prepare her to step out into the world alone. She could read and write and had a basic understanding of math but the reality of it was she had been raised to one end and that was marriage. However, the idea of letting any man touch her - ever - had caused her to shiver in revulsion. Surprisingly, on the heels of revulsion had come anger at the man that had left her feeling repulsed by the idea of being made love to. Not just anger, she was furious!

Grabbing the tea pot sitting on the table beside her, Sabrina flung it across the room. The tea pot shattered against the back of the bedroom door just as Jared came in with a light supper. "Get out!"

"Ma'am?" Jared ducked as what sounded like a tea cup followed the pot.

"Get out! Get out and stay out!" Sabrina kept throwing until there was nothing left on the table beside her. A moment later there was a soft knock on the door. "Go away," she said but this time without heat.

Jared pushed the door open slowly. "My lady?" He saw her sitting next to the fire. The sun was setting and the room was growing cold. "Ma'am, if you'd allow it I'd like to build up the fire and clean up the mess." The floor in front of the door was littered with broken china, shattered tea cups and several dented pieces of serving silver.

"I don't care," Sabrina whispered. She watched as Jared entered and quickly went about cleaning the room. A moment later a maid followed; Sabrina turned away when she went to strip the bed. "What is your name?"

Jared hesitated for the barest of moments. "Jared."

"Is that your real name," Sabrina asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I see." Sabrina wasn't sure why it mattered. She had no way of knowing if he spoke the truth or not. "Well, Jared, I have a message for your master. Pray tell him that I request an audience at his earliest convienence."

"Yes, ma'am." Jared nodded and then quickly ushered the maid out the door.

Once again alone, Sabrina forced herself to eat the light supper that had been prepared. Despite the slightly worn look of her surroundings the food was excellent. The ingredients were fresh and light with no heavy sauces to cover lesser quality meat. There was also a light wine and a chocolate souffle for dessert. Finished eating, Sabrina settled into wait. The sun had set and the room was filling with shadows. Still, she didn't move to light any of the many candles in the room but left the only light in the room that of the fireplace.

It was late, well after midnight before he slipped into her room. He was surprised to find her still up and dressed. She sat in the same chair he'd occupied the night before and the only light in the room came from the dying fire. Despite the low light, he was careful to stay in the shadows near the door. 

"You wished to see me?" He hadn't expected to see her again and was surprised when Jared relayed her request for an audience. He had order Jared to make it clear that she would be free from his attention for as long as she remained. The only thing keeping her here was her inability to ride. There were no carriages kept at the cottage and he wanted to give her time to heal before sending her home.

"Yes, thank you for coming." Sabrina stood as he entered. She had been sitting in the dark, wondering what to say. The words formed and fell time and time again, never sounding quite right. In the hours since she'd first made her decision she must have changed her mind a hundred times only to change it back. Once she embarked upon this path there would be no turning back. While her life was already irrevocably changed she still stood free of any wrong doing. What she contemplated now would change all of that.

When she remained silent, he asked, "did you have something you wanted to ask me, say to me?" He had heard about the incident with the tea pot. In truth he'd been surprised that her outbreak hadn't been more sever. He'd known women of the ton to throw larger temper tantrums over a torn flounce.

Sabrina shook out her hands in obvious distress. "I'm sorry, I don't know where to begin."

"Lord woman, you shouldn't be apologizing to me. Ask whatever it is you want or say whatever it is you need to say. If it's a request and it's within my power I'll see that you have it."

"Can you give me back my future?" Sabrina asked quietly. "Can you give me back the husband and the children that I'll never have?" Angrily she brushed at the tears that had started to fall. This was not how she wanted this conversation to go.

"No," he whispered. "I swore never to regret my decision but I do regret hurting you in the process. For that I am sorry."

He was still just a shadow to her. Throughout the day she had avoided thinking about him or the night before. When she finally let herself remember she was surprised at how many details she was able to recall. Staring at him from across the room she found that many of her memories proved accurate. He was obviously a tall man, wide across the chest and shoulders. She could see where his hair brushed the collar of his coat making it just this side of fashionable. While she had no idea what his face might look like his voice was deep and a little rough. That combined with his comments about business with her father led her to believe that he was of the merchant class. The apparently fine cut of his clothes, the cottage with its servants and the food suggesting that he had worked his way up rather far.

Squaring her shoulders, Sabrina blurted out, "I want you to make love to me."

Whatever it was he'd been expecting this was not it. So stunned was he by her request that it was several moments before he realized that she had continued talking.

"...never going to have a husband and last night definitely wasn't how I pictured my first time..."

"Stop." He held up his hand to emphasize the order. "Just stop, for one moment and back up." He could not have heard her correctly. "Let me see if I've got this right, you want me to make love to you? Me?"

Sabrina swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Yes. As I was saying, once I leave here I'll never again have the opportunity..."

"I'm sure there are any number of men that would gladly show you the ways of bed play."

"I'm sure," she agreed dryly. "But none of them are strangers and any...bed play...with them would ruin what little reputation I have left. You've made it clear that I will be allowed to return home. I assume since you haven't aired the bloody bedsheets in the window that you don't intend on making a public announcement as to the state of my virtue."

He snorted at her sarcasm. "And risk a public hanging, no thank you."

Sabrina ignored him. "That must mean that the only one you want to know about this," a wave of her hand took in the bedroom in which they stood, "is my father. Therefore you are the best choice if I want to know what it's like to experience pleasure."  

This was all just too crazy. He needed to sit down, and a drink. "Did Jared bring up anything stronger then tea?"

Sabrina realized that she'd given him quite a turn. It was obvious that he required a moment to gather his wits. "Yes, there's brandy on the table."

"May I?" He asked, indicating the table. It was on her side of the room and would put him closer to her.

"Of course." Sabrina watched as he walked across the room, poured a rather large dose of brandy and then tossed it back.

His hands flat on the table, he waited while the brandy worked its way down the back of his throat. Turning to study her, he considered her request. She stood straight, almost defiant, with her shoulders thrown back. As the silence stretched out and he continued to watch her he saw her shudder violently. Straightening up, he turned and started for the door. "No."

So shocked at his denial, Sabrina almost missed catching him as reached the door. "Wait! Why?"

Running a hand through his hair, he turned back to her. "You can barely stand to have me look at you. I can't say that I blame you. I've done you a greivious harm but I can't undo it and I won't compound it. Now, I will leave you in peace for the rest of your stay. Goodnight."

"You bastard," she hissed never knowing how true she spoke. "So much for your willingness to grant my any request." Ashamed and embarrassed, Sabrina felt herself flush. It had taken all of her courage to make the request. She had never thought for a moment that he might say no. Ironically, she found herself feeling offended at his rejection.

His hand dropped away from the door but he didn't turn back to the room. She was right; he'd been more then willing to do anything when the only thing he thought she'd want was an apology or to take a tea pot to the head. Both of which were easier then what she asked. It wasn't that he wasn't attracted to her, quite the opposite in fact. She was beautiful, stunning even and he knew exactly what it would feel like to press his body against hers. 

He'd been in a rage the night before and while he tried to deny it he had to admit that he'd found pleasure in taking her. The fact that it was rape was distasteful, to say the least, but the feel of her breasts in his hands, the taste of her lips, had been exquisit. What he didn't know was whether or not he possessed the ability to walk her through the painful memories that he had created to get to the pleasure.

"Please don't make me beg." Her voice was quiet but he could hear the undertone of desperation.

Turning from the door, he looked at her. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure that you want to do this here, now, with me?"

Sabrina held up her hands, "what choice do I have?"

He snorted, "not exactly a resounding yes." He held up his hand to stop her protests. "I understand what you mean." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Alright then." He walked back over to the table, this time pouring two drinks and offering her one. "I think we'll both need a drink before we get started." He held his arm out, holding it steady while she hesitated.

Sabrina's legs felt like lead as she stepped forward. Reaching out, she could see her hand shake as she took the offered glass. Following his earlier example, she tossed back the brandy, coughing slight as it burned its way down her throat. Silently, she handed the glass back to him before retreating back to her side of the room.

He stood staring down into the drink in his hand wondering at this new turn of events. He'd bedded many women, all of them older and more experienced then Sabrina. He'd never taken a young lady to his bed, certainly never one he'd raped the night before. 

"Have you changed your mind," she asked quietly.

"No," he said quietly. Setting aside his drink, he started across the room only to stop short when she scurried backwards. The realization of just how scared of him she was hit him like a punch to the gut. 

Sabrina stumbled into the bedside table, the adrenalin hitting her so hard and fast that she hadn't realized that she was in flight until she'd been stopped by the table.

He didn't move, just brought both hands up, palms facing out. Dropping his voice, he addressed her as one would a wounded animal. "It's okay. I'll stay right here until you say otherwise." Belatedly, he realized it might work best to urge her to come to him. "We'll take this slow and stop whenever you want to. Okay?"

Sabrina nodded and eased away from the table. "What do you want me to do?" She asked uncertainly.

"Why don't you come a little closer. I promise, I won't move or reach out to touch you until you're ready," he assured her. He waited through several heartbeats, watching as she struggled to step towards him. Finally, just when he thought she would call a halt to the evening, she started forward. 

Moving slowly, she seemed to glide towards him. He could feel her eyes on his face, knew that if he so much as twitched that she would bolt from the room. Perhaps that would be for the best, he thought. He still wasn't convinced that this was the best thing for her. Yet, she seemed resolved and he knew how hard it was to turn someone away from a path that they'd set themselves on.

As she drew closer he was able to make out more of the details of her face. He could see the angle of her jaw, the straight line of her nose and the long line of her neck. He could also hear her breathing. "You need to slow your breathing, sweetie," he warned gently, "otherwise you're likely to hyperventilate." Sarbrina nodded. Staring at his chest, she took deep breaths until once again the fear was under control.

She stood mere inches away from him. He could easily reach out and grab her but his hands remained at his sides. They stood face to face in the dark; the light from the fire continued to dim leaving the room in shadow and the only noise was the sound of their breathing. Sabrina realized that he was waiting for some single from her to begin, letting her set the pace. "I'm okay," she said.

He didn't buy that for a moment. "Look at me," he said and watched as she raised her eyes to him. He couldn't see their color in the dark, didn't know if they were a bright blue or a dark brown. What he could see was that they were bright, likely with fear rather then desire. Slowly, with her eyes on him, he raised his hands to her face and cupped it gently.

Sabrina felt the shock of that first touch all the way through her and shivered. His touch was gentle yet she still had to resist the urge to jerk away. "Remember," he said, "we can stop at any time."

Sabrina nodded, her face still held in his hands. He didn't do anything else, just held her face for a moment until he felt some of the tension start to leave her body. As she started to relax he slowly lowered his head, taking his time and giving her ample chance to call stop. When she didn't, he let his mouth settle lightly upon her lips.

Sabrina held still as he brushed her lips back and forth with his mouth. After a moment he stopped to nibble lightly at the corners letting her feel his lips part slightly and his breath brush up against her mouth. She sighed at the sweet scent of the brandy they'd drunk earlier floated against her lips but couldn't help startling when she felt the tip of his tongue.

He didn't pull back, just stopped and went back to brushing her lips lightly until she was once against sighing against his mouth. This time when he touched his tongue to her lips he felt her open up. He didn't plunge ahead but continued to keep it light alternating between brushing her lips and tasting them with his tongue.

Sabrina felt the heat of his lips settle into the pit of her stomach. It was a pleasant sensation and she found herself stepping closer, pressing herself lightly against his chest in open invitation to take more.




English Rose Ch. 01



Holding himself in check, he deepened the kiss in response to her invitation. Of their own volition, his hands moved from her face and into her hair hearing her gasp in surprise as he released it from its pins and letting it fall. Surprised, he broke the kiss and stared down at her. She had moved closer, pressing their bodies together, but it was the feel of her hair cascading down her back to settle around her waist that caught him unaware. He'd never seen a woman wear her hair so long. He'd always associated long hair with little girls but on her it had the effect of turning her into something exotic. Already he could imagine her lying naked on the bed wearing nothing but all that glorious hair.

Sabrina sighed in relief. Her hair was a source of pride but the weight of it piled and pinned on top of her head tended to give her headaches. She felt his surprise as the mass of dark curls fell down her back; closing her eyes, she couldn't surpress a moan of pleasure as he ran his fingers through her hair, untangling the long locks.

As he reached the ends, his hands slipped from her hair and around her waist. He noted that this time she didn't stiffen at his touch and allowed herself to be drawn closer against his chest. This time he immediately sunk into the kiss, encouraging her to rise up and meet him. 

He gave a low moan of satisfaction when he felt her hands move from his forearms to his chest. Resisting the urge to tighten his grip, he nevertheless allowed his hands to travel from her waist, up her back and into the hair and the nape of her neck.

Sabrina felt her head tip back as he plundered her mouth. His lips were firm and she could feel her own lips swelling in response to his attention. As the kiss went on she could feel her fear and apprehension start to fade away. Her body had grown warm, her breasts felt heavy and chafed at the bindings of her corset. Realizing that it would have to be done eventually, she stepped back from his embrace. Turning her back to him, she offered him the long row of buttons to her gown. "Would you undo me?"

For a moment there when she'd stepped from his arms he'd been sure that she'd had enough. With no small amount of disappointment, he prepared to hear a comand for him to leave. So surprised was he at her request to help with her dress that it took him a moment to start on the buttons.

Sabrina caught the front of her dress and held it firmly against her chest as she felt the back loosen and start to part. 

"Damn, woman! How many buttons does this thing have?" He asked.

Sabrina gave a nervous laugh at his frustration. "You needed undo them all but could you also undo the ties of my corset?"

Catching a glimpse of the stiff corset under her dress, he felt himself harden. "Not yet," he replied.

Sabrina caught the rough edge of his voice glanced over her shoulder. She could see him staring down into the opening at the back of her dress. Even without the light, she could see desire and noted the tension in his body. In response, her fear flared anew and she couldn't stop herself from stepping away.

At first he didn't say anything, just gave her a moment and then, "I can't help wanting you. You're beautiful and I want to see you standing in nothing but your corset. Just the thought..." He stopped and swallowed against the desire that image brought to life. "You asked me to show you pleasure but I'm a passionate man and it can be raw in its' power. It may be that you need someone that is gentler in their love making then I can be."

"No." Her voice cut through and stopped him. "I want this." To prove the truth of her words, she let go of her dress and allowed it to fall to the floor. Turning back to him, his breath caught in his chest at the sight of her. She stood near the window, a shaft of moonlight falling softly behind her. She wore a short shift that barely brushed the tops of her knees but it was the corset that nearly undid his control.

Cinched tight at the waist it pushed her breast up and forward and accented the flare of her hips. He'd always enjoyed voluptuous women and her generous curves looked inviting. Stepping forward, he wrapped his hands around her waist feeling the tips of his fingers meet at the center of her back. "So small," his whispered in appreciation.

Sabrina shivered under the heat of his gaze but didn't move as his hands circled her waist. Again, she noted that her skin felt stretched tight, her breasts heavy and eager to be free. Still, she was content to let him look at her, some part of her feminine brain enjoying the appreciation in his gaze.

It seemed an eternity before he finally reached for the ties holding the corset together. While she watched, he slowly wrapped the ribbon around and around his fist before pulling it towards him. Sabrina could hear the ribbon as it slid free and a moment later gave a sigh of relief as the pressure holding her eased. He took his time pulling the ribbon through each eyelet until finally the stiff corset fell, joining her dress on the floor. 

Having been cinched down tight, the material of her shift clung to her, outlining every curve of her body. He was just about to reach out and touch her when she said, "my turn," and reached for him.

Sabrina found that she couldn't meet his eyes as she went to work on his cravet and coat. It wasn't until she reached for the buttons of his shirt that she risked a quick look up into his face. He was staring down at her, his arms hanging loose at his sides, watching as she undressed him. It was a slightly disconcerning sensation being watched and it caused her to shiver. 

She had managed to get one button free when his hand reached up and covered hers, stopping her progress. "I know that I told you we could stop at any time but I fear the further this goes the harder that will be. I don't want to hurt you again or frighten you but you really must understand that once..." he swallowed and cleared his throat, "once we're on that bed and I feel you next to me I don't know if I'll be able to stop."

"Do you want to stop?" She asked.

"Lord, no." He groaned.

"Neither do I," she whispered and went back to work on his buttons. Finally the last button was undone. Sabrina slid her hands inside the fabric of his shirt and laid them lightly on his chest. His skin was smooth beneath her palms and radiated heat. Without lifting her hands, she slid them across his chest and up over his shoulders pushing the material out of her way as she went. She couldn't help a gasp of surprise at the first sight of him standing shirtless in front of her.

He thought he might expire on the spot. Her hands moved with feather softness across his skin leaving behind trails of heat. Everywhere she touched him his skin grew taunt and he couldn't stop the shiver of pleasure that passed through him. It had been years since such a simple caress had such a profound effect on him. 

With the tips of her fingers, Sabrina traced the contours of his chest, followed the lines of his ribs and circled his naval. She noted the light dusting of hair and followed it to where it disappeared at the top of his breeches.

He was hard and aching, surprised that he hadn't already burst through the front of his pants when he felt her reach to release him. Quickly, he caught her hand and pressed it to his stomach. "Not yet," he said.

Sabrina nodded, her eyes going wide with surprise as he knelt down before her. Suddenly she found herself staring down at him while he stared at her breasts. As she watched, he slowly untied the front of her shift and pushed it off her shoulders, for the first time baring her completely.

The urge to cover herself was quickly forgotten at the feel of his hands cupping her breasts. She remembered the humiliation she had felt before as he gently rolled her nipples between his fingers. Quickly, she pushed the image away and focused on the here and now. 

In the here and now he was doing some wonderful things to her body. His lips had replaced his fingers on one of her breasts and he was sucking the nipple deep into the heat of his mouth. At the same time, he reached around with both hands and sliding them up the backs of her thighs gently cradled her backside.

Realizing that she could, Sabrina settled her weight more firmly in his hands and let her head fall back. His mouth continued to suckle at her breasts before moving to trail a line of light kisses down her stomach.

He marveled at the gentle swell of her stomach before following the dip of her pelvis. Before she could even begin to guess at his intent he shouldered her thighs apart and set his mouth to the heat between her legs.

Sabrina gasped in surprise and instinctively tried to close her legs. His hands on her buttocks kept her from moving away and in the end she was forced to accept the assult his mouth was having on her senses. A part of her recognized the indecency of their positions but the rest of her didn't care. His mouth had gone to the core of her being, a place that had long since started to throb and ache. Trying to move closer, Sabrina tangled her fist in his hair and tilted her hips.

He couldn't stop a chuckled of male satisfaction at her response. He had been relieved to find her wet and swollen, a sure sign that despite the events of the night before she was coming to find pleasure. 

With her more firmly settled in his hands, he let himself explore. Her netherlips were slick and swollen, parting slightly to reveal the pearl of her pleasure. Licking gently, he felt her throb against his tongue and heard her gasp of pleasure. For several moments he licked and laved at her, collection her juices upon his tongue and letting her flavor burst in his mouth. It wasn't until he actually heard her whimper above him that he took her pearl more firmly into his mouth and sucked.

Sabrina threw her head back and cried out as her body shattered. His mouth and tongue had wound her tight until she could no longer control her body's movements. At the same time, his hands held her firmly in place, setting the pace and refusing to be rushed. Finally, in frustration she had whimpered out a plea.

He held her tight against his mouth until the last spasm of pleasure had past. He could feel her legs start to tremble and stood up just in time to catch her in his arms as she collapsed. In two strides he was across the room, laying her down on the bed and covering her with his body.

The crushing weight of him broke through the pleasant haze of her release and Sabrina started to struggle. Quickly, he rolled over onto his back, stretching her out on top of him. "Shhh..." He sought to calm her with his hands, gently caressing them down her back, careful to let her know that she was free to move away from him at any time. Within moments she lay quiet upon him. 

Despite his own fierce desire he was content. He let himself explore the contoures of her back as well as wind long locks of her hair around his fist. The moment drew out, the night became quiet and calm and he thought perhaps she had fallen asleep. He contented himself with the knowledge that he had shown her that passion could lead to pleasure and hoped that some day she would seek more out for herself.

"Thank you." 

He looked down and found that she was staring up at him. The darkness prevented him from seeing the expression on her face but he sensed that she was at peace. "You're welcome," he said and couldn't help smiling. "There's more, if you'd like or we can stop now."

"I thought you said you wouldn't be able to stop once we were on the bed." She reminded him.

He shrugged, "I was wrong. That's not to say I wouldn't like more," he shifted just enough so that she could feel the length of his arousal pressing up against her. "But I'm satisfied that you were able to enjoy yourself. You were able to enjoy yourself?" He couldn't keep a twinge of doubt from his voice.

"I did, very much. It's just..." she broke off and considered how to tell him. "I don't know if I can do anymore. I want to but the thought of you on top of me..." she broke off.

He understood, remember her struggles when he'd first laid down with her. "Well then," he said, keeping his tone light. "There's no problem."

"There's not?"

"Nope, you'll be on top," he said matter of factly.

"How is that...? Oh!" Sabrina couldn't help but be surprised as his hands slid down the backs of her thighs and grabbed her behind the knees. 

Watching her face, wishing he could see her expression, he pulled her knees up until she straddled his hips. "Now, sit back," he ordered and groaned when she complied.

Comprehension bloomed as she felt the length of him pressed firmly between her thighs. He was long and thick and she could feel her body pulsing against him. Forgetting last night, she asked, "will you fit?"

"Oh yes," he whispered. Grabbing her by the hips he helped her to rise up and then guided himself to her entrance. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done but he forced himself to let go, leaving her to hover above him. "Whenever you're ready," he said and waited.

Sabrina stared down at him. She could feel him poised at the entrance to her body, knew that all she had to do was lower herself onto him but for a moment she sat frozen. This was it, the last chance to change her mind before she did something irrevocable. If she lowered herself, took him into her body, then she would be actively participating in her own downfall. Her body throbbed, warring with memories from the night before, the pleasure she was feeling contrasting sharply with the pain. In that moment she knew there was no turning back.

Slowly Sabrina lowered herself feeling herself stretch to accommodate him. She was prepared for pain that never came, she wasn't prepared for the sensation of being filled or for the pleasure that came as he thrust up to meet her.

He tried to hold still, tried to give her time to lower herself completely but the feel of her surrounding him was too much. He needed to be buried deep inside of her and couldn't stop his hips from rising off the bed.

They both moaned as their bodies met and for the space of a heartbeat neither one of them moved. Staring down at him, Sabrina wished she could see his face, wondered at the man that had caused her such pain and then brought her such pleasure. Then the moment passed and her body started to move. 

Something instinctual drove her, guided her movements as she rode him. She braced her hands on his chest and used them to help raise and lower herself. She wondered at the feel of him sliding in and out of her body, each stroke filling her. After a moment she felt his hands on her hips, this time guiding her in a new rhythm.

He groaned as she followed his lead and started rocking back and forth. This position would do more for her pleasure and help him to last longer. Even still, wrapped in her moist heat as he was he didn't think he'd be able to take much more.

Sabrina could feel his tension beneath her and sensed that there was something more. "What is it?" She asked. She saw him shake his head, his fingers digging deeper where they continued to grip her hips. "Tell me."

"Oh God, woman," he struggled against his rising need. "Already you tempt me."

"To what?" Her own tension mounting, Sabrina sensed that her release, their release was just out of reach.

His voice came out in a growl, "It's all I can do not to flip you over onto your back and pound myself into you."

Sabrina was reminded of his earlier comment about being a passionate lover, less gentle then someone else might be. She was also reminded of the panic she felt when he'd pressed her into the mattress. Could she put herself in such a position willingly? Just then he thrust up to meet her and she sensed the power being leashed. "Do it," she said.

He shuddered in response to her whispered words and felt his control slip. Without giving her a chance to change her mind, he reared up, wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled them over. Not giving her time to panic, he braced himself on his arms taking as much of his weight off of her as possible and started moving.

Sabrina felt a flash of panic and then it was gone, all that was left was the feel of him moving above her. Instantly, she understood the difference between her long, slow ride and the driving force of his thrusts. While she could use her body to tease, drawing out the moment and building up the tension, his was designed for power, sending them over that edge and shattering them both.

They lay quietly in the aftermath. He'd been careful to roll over onto his back and avoid pinning her beneath him. Surprisingly, she'd rolled with him and tucked her head under his chin. His skin started to cool and he noted that the fire was almost completely out. Carefully, he pulled the blankets up over them and ordered her to sleep. Sometime during the night he woke her with his love making. Afterwards, he ordered wine, made love to her again and then waited for her to fall asleep. 

As light lit the room, he stood beside her bed fully clothed and watched her sleep. He had no fear of her waking, he had added a bit of laudanum to her wine to ensure she slept. After last night he had decided that he could no longer keep her there, not without risking her finding out who he was. 

Sabrina woke a day later in her own bed, her maid moving quietly about the. "Good morning, my lady. Your father would like to see you."

"Thank you, Tilly. I won't be needing any help this morning." Sabrina waited until Tilly had left the room before sliding out of bed. She had no memory of getting home, the last thing she remembered was curling up beside him. Sliping out of her nightgown, Sabrina went to stand before the mirror. There was evidence from the past few days all over her body. She could see where his fingers had left bruises on her hips and there was a distinct bite mark at the top of one breast. Flushing slightly, she remembered how she'd asked him not to hold back during the last of their love making.

Turning from the mirror, Sabrina wondered at the emotional place she now found herself. While she'd left childhood behind she couldn't step fully into womanhood. For now, she would remain in her father's home, nolonger a child but with no life of her own.

Distracted by her thoughts, Sabrina dressed quickly before making her way to her father's study. She gave a nod of thanks at the footman that opened the doors and stepped inside her father's domain. It was evident that this was where he oversaw the running of their vast estate with its' dark wood, worn leather a slightly stale cigar smoke. 

A handsome man in his mid fifties, Jonathan looked up and smiled in relief at seeing his daughter. "Sabrina," he said in greeting. Quickly, he stood and walked around the desk to greet her. 

Sabrina stopped short at the look of care and concern on her father's face. Immediately, guilt over the past few days washed over her causing her to take a step back.

Her sudden retreat caught him off guard and Jonathan found himself at a loss as to how to proceed. Indicating the chair in front of his desk, he asked, "Would you care to sit down?"

"Thank you." Sabrina stepped past her father and sat. Keeping her eyes on him, she watched as he circled around his desk and took a seat across from her. 

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly.

Sabrina gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, and you?"

"Fine, fine, your mother and I are both fine." Uncomfortable, Jonathan suddenly realized that he should have allowed his wife to have this conversation with Sabrina. She had suggested as much but he had felt confident in his ability to deal with his daughter's trauma as well as finding out who was to blame.

Clearing his throat, he asked, "do you feel like talking about it?" Immediately, he regretted his haste in asking as he watched his normally open, carefree daughter shut down.




English Rose Ch. 01



Sabrina stared down at her hands hidden in the fold of her dress and gripped them tightly. "I don't know if I can," she answered honestly.

Jonathan nodded. "I understand and I don't want to push." He indicated a stack of documents sitting on the edge of desk. "After you disappeared, your mother and I hired a bow street runner. For obvious reasons we didn't want to go to the authorities or make an official report." At Sabrina's nod he continued. "The runner spoke with our driver and even went back out to where the carriage was attacked. He was able to pick up your trail but eventually suggested we hire an experienced tracker. Unfortunately, it rained before the tracker was able to make a certain determination as to which way you were headed." Jonathan gave an apologetic shrug. "After that all we could do is wait."

If only to himself, Jonathan had to admit that he'd been frantic to find her, those few days of her absense pure hell. The ransom note they were waiting for never arrived and the runner warned that they might never see their daughter again. Never before had his name, money and power meant less. 

He had just begun questioning the wisdom of not going to the authorities when shouts in the entryway had drawn him from his study. A young houseboy preparing to sweep the front steps had opened the door and found Sabrina, unconscious and wrapped in an expensive blanket. Jonathan's relief at finding Sabrina had been short lived. Quietly, her maid had informed him of the marks and there was no mistaking their meaning. 

Addressing his daughter, he said, "I understand that you'd rather not talk about what happened." She had her face turned from him and he could see her swallow. "But if there is anything that you can tell me that might help us to figure out who is responsible..."

"You're still looking?" Sabrina asked in surprised.

"Of course!" Jonathan said. "You don't think I'd let whoever is responsible for hurting my child go unpunished?"

Sabrina picked at her dress. Ironically, she realized that she didn't want him found. She tried to tell herself that it was self preservation - surely, if he were found he would share everything that had happened in an attempt to save himself. And while that was partially true she had to admit that some small part of her wanted to protect him from her father's anger and the consequences that his position would allow. "Father, do you think that's wise?" For the first time in her life Sabrina actively used her position and knowledge of the ton to her advantage. "You and mother have done so much to protect me, to make sure that no one found out that I was missing. If you find this man it would mean an arrest and a public trial. Everything that has happened would be revealed and I would be ruined." Desperation and truth added weight to her words.

Jonathan considered his daughter. "You don't want the man that hurt you brought to justice?"

Sabrina shook her head but still couldn't meet her father's eyes. "I want my life back, what there is left of it."

Jonathan pulled on his right ear, a habit he had when thinking. "I can't just let the matter drop, you understand, but I promise to keep any future inquires discreet. If I find out who did this I promise to take care of the matter personally."

Sabrina realized that this was as good as she was going to get. She could only hope that he had taken care to cover his tracks and was never found. She didn't know what she would do if she ever came face to face with him.



English Rose Ch. 02



The first chapter of this series appeared under Nonconsent/Reluctance; however, the rest of the series will most likely appear under Romance. Thank you to everyone that commented on the first chapter, as always, it is appreciated.

*

London, 1800s...

A year and a half after her abduction found Sabrina preparing for the end of her second Season in London. There were still a few weeks left but after the final round of balls, soirees and luncheons she would be retiring to the family's country home - permanently. 

As expected, her father had given her the choice between residing in the country or becoming a companion to her older sister. As much as Sabrina loved her sister, she couldn't bear the thought of watching her live the life Sabrina had been destined for. The country, while quiet, would accord her a certain amount of freedom, free from the painful memories of the past and all that she had lost.

Sabrina never finished her first Season in London. Her family, letting it be known that she was ill, had whisked her away to the country. Those first few months had been a dark time for her; no one in her family understood what she had suffered and all were at a loss as to what to say. Everyone had treated her gently, acting as if she might break at any moment. Their quiet presence, while designed to be reassuring, had served as a constant reminder until Sabrina thought she might snap.

Eventually, Sabrina started spending most of her time alone walking in the garden, riding out across the countryside or reading quietly in her room. It had been a relief to everyone when she emerged from seclusion and requested a final Season in London.

As the daughter of a Duke, she was considered an essential name on every guest list. Women constantly sought to curry her favor while men tried their hand at courtship. Sabrina had struggled to re-enter society and there had been a number of times over the past several months when Sabrina had regretted her decision. The ton, with their incessant gossiping and endless entertainment, often overwhelmed her. 

The one bright spot had been her friendship with Lady Eleanor Mills. Ellie would never have questioned Sabrina's sudden disappearance from London if not for the silence that followed. Close friends, it was unlike Sabrina to sequester herself in the country, avoiding the summer house parties and weekend retreats. Worried, Ellie had arrived unannounced and cornered Sabrina.

Sabrina, relieved to have someone to talk to, had poured out the entire story. That's when the real healing began. After that, the girls were inseparable, finishing out the summer in the country before preparing for the Season together. While most of the ton remained in the country until the Season officially started, Sabrina and Ellie spent their days shopping and taking tea together. If this was to be Sabrina's last Season, she wanted to experience it to the fullest.

While some nights proved challenging with all the gossip over her sudden disappearance and her obvious lack of interest in marriage, tonight promised to be easy. Tonight was a dinner party given by Ellie's mother, Beatrice Mills, the Countess of Ingles.  

Sabrina and her family arrived just after nine; the ball already in full swing and the inevitable crush confirmed. Pausing at the entrance to the ballroom, Sabrina tried to catch a glimpse of her friend. If she knew Ellie, she would likely be at the center of a large group of admirers. This was also Ellie's second Season and it was common knowledge that her father expected to see her married. Catching sight of her friend's distinctively blonde hair, Sabrina started across the room.

It took Sabrina the better part of half an hour to reach her friend's side. Not only was the ballroom crowded, but Sabrina was also forced to stop and talk with several members of the ton. Ellie, seeing Sabrina approach, quickly stepped forward and gently pulled her into the center of her circle of admirers. "You made it!"

"Of course! You know we'd never miss your mother's annual ball," Sabrina said. Pasting a smile on her face, she nodded her head in greeting to the several young men that surrounded her friend. Already, she could see that Ellie's dance card was full, some of the names on her card belonging to the gentlemen loitering nearby. Sabrina didn't have to count to know that there were more men then were places on Ellie's card. Those unlucky enough to find themselves without a dance would have to be content making conversation and offering to fetch a glass of punch in hopes of catching Ellie's eye. 

Sabrina was content to entertain those left behind as Ellie's hand was claimed for the next dance. Ellie had gained a certain following, the same young men returning to her court night after night. Most of them were used to seeing Sabrina by her side and sincerely enjoyed talking with her while Ellie danced. 

There was always one or two new members that ventured to ask Sabrina to dance, tonight was no exception. Although she refused, Sabrina was careful to offer a compliment or a smile to help ease any awkwardness or disappointment. 

Douglas Radcliff watched as Sabrina turned down yet another offer to dance. He noted that she hadn't bothered with a dance card and spent most of the time entertaining her friend's suitors. It had been the same at every event that she attended.

His presence at Lady Mills' annual ball was no accident. In fact, he'd gone to great lengths to ensure an invitation, including entering into a business arrangement with the lady's husband. He had spent the better part of the Season watching Sabrina. Not always able to predict which event she would attend, he'd known without a doubt that she would be at a ball given by her best friend's mother.

Two years ago, he had set out to avenge his mother. At the time, still just a bastard son, no one knew or cared who he was. While the Duke of St. Ives was beyond him, the man's daughter was not. It hadn't been hard to discover her identity; after that he'd had her followed until he had a good idea of her routine and then waited. Eventually, the opportunity to take her had presented itself and he'd ordered it done. 

What followed had been two of the most unforgettable nights of his life. His disappointment at the sour taste of revenge had been eclipsed by his surprise at the night of passion spent with Sabrina. Expecting never to see her again, Douglas had returned her to her father and waited for news of her marriage. Surely, as the daughter of a duke, she would still be able to marry despite her misfortune. It was only after the death of his half brother and his begrudging acceptance into polite society that he learned Sabrina had rejected any attempts at making a match. 

Douglas' own father was anxious to see him safely married. Nevertheless, Douglas was content to wait for the right time. After a year of watching Sabrina, he realized that he wasn't waiting for the right time; he was waiting for Sabrina. But how was he to get Sabrina, who had obviously deserted the idea of marriage, to marry him? Never one to leave things to chance, Douglas plotted and planned, arranging the players as if they were pieces on a chess board until he was satisfied that everything was as it should be. Tonight he would see the first of his plans come to fruition. 

Sabrina was surprised at the light touch on her elbow; turning, she smiled in greeting. "Good evening, my lord. I didn't expect to see you here." Lord Jeffery was an old acquaintance of her father's and had been a guest at their table many times. 

"Good evening, my lady. I was wondering if I might impose on you a moment?" Lord Jeffery was older then Sabrina's father by several years and it was unusual for him to venture into the ballroom. Typically, he spent his evenings in the card room with the other married gentlemen.

"Of course," Sabrina agreed. Whatever his request, Sabrina knew she couldn't refuse. Not only a dear friend of her father's, he was also a business associate.

"I'd like you to meet a friend and business associate of mine. Lady Sabrina Montague, may I present to you Lord Radcliff, the next Duke of Spiegel." 

Sabrina felt her eyes widen slightly as Lord Radcliff bent over her hand. Not only was he notorious, a favorite topic of gossip among the ton, but he was by far the largest man she had ever seen. Remembering her manners, Sabrina dipped a quick curtsy. As the daughter of a duke, she was his equal in rank and needn't curtsy at all. Still, her upbringing demanded that she afford him a measure of respect. "Good evening, my lord."

Douglas felt his blood heat at the sound of her voice, remembering how the slightly husky tones of whiskey could turn dark with desire. Pressing the barest of kiss to the back of her gloved hand, Douglas lifted his head to find her staring at him. It had been almost two years since he'd allowed himself to get this close to her; he couldn't help but wonder if she might recognize him.

Sabrina slipped her fingers from Lord Radcliff's hand, giving a gentle tug when he didn't immediately release her. "It's always a pleasure to meet a friend of Lord Jeffery's. Did you two originally meet over business or did business come later?"

Douglas let Sabrina lead them in a conversation of easy chitchat. She was really quite accomplished at asking and answering questions, steering them clear of any topics considered inappropriate for an unmarried lady.

It was only at the first stings of the waltz that he stepped in. "Dance with me," he asked and held out his hand. 

To Sabrina, it sounded more like an order then a request and she was inclined to refuse. Looking from Lord Radcliff's outstretched hand to Lord Jeffery, she had the distinct impression that the entire exchange had been designed with this moment in mind. Lord Jeffery obviously expected Sabrina to accept and she couldn't very well disappoint. "Of course," she said and slipped her hand into Lord Radcliff's.

Douglas allowed himself a small smile in triumph as he led her out onto the floor and pulled her into his arms. Still, he had to fight a tiny shiver of awareness as their bodies brushed with the start of the dance. 

For her part, Sabrina was trying desperately to ignore the whispers and stares that had followed them into the waltz. Lifting her chin, she kept her eyes focused on the center of his cravat and fought to keep from blushing. 

Douglas found himself staring down at the top of Sabrina's head as he led her through the steps of the waltz. It didn't take long for him to realize that she planned to suffer through their dance quietly before quickly returning to the safety of Lady Mills' suitors. "I apologize if you find dancing with me unpleasant," he said.

Sabrina's eyes flew to his face, "I don't!" She exclaimed, surprised at both her outburst and the truth of her words. Despite his size, Lord Radcliff held her lightly and moved them effortlessly around the room. It was a fast waltz, one of her favorites, and she found that she was enjoying herself. "Actually, my lord, it is I that should apologize. I fear that we are the focus of much scrutiny and that I am to blame."

Douglas gave a small snort. "I assure you, I am as much to blame as you are. It isn't every day the ton bears witness to the daughter of one duke dancing with the bastard of another."

Sabrina has been watching his face and caught the note of sardonic humor as it passed over his features. "It bothers you," she stated.

"No," Douglas bit off and the silently cursed himself for his terse tone.

Despite his denial, Sabrina had felt him stiffen in response to her comment. For the first time in her life, Sabrina had been the object of the ton's gossip and speculation and thought she could sympathize. Of course, the ton's speculation would be nothing compared to their acrimony if they found out the true nature of her situation. What would it be like, she wondered, to have the world know the details of her own personal humiliation? Shivering at the thought, Sabrina concentrated on following Douglas through the corner's turn and was surprised when he took the opportunity to slip into the crowd.

Douglas glanced down and caught Sabrina looking up at him questioningly. "I thought we could both use a break from so much unwanted attention."

Sabrina gave a slight nod, forgoing to mention that their quick departure from the dance floor was sure to invoke more gossip then their waltz.

Douglas led her through the crowd and out onto the veranda, accepting two glasses of champagne from a passing footman along the way. Outside, Sabrina smiled her thanks when she took the glass but he could see that her lips were tight at the edges and she was quick to step away from him. Easing his hip onto the balustrade, he tried to look less threatening and draw her into easy conversation. "How much longer are you in London?"

Sabrina took a sip of champagne and a moment to collect herself. She'd been careful to avoid situations where she might find herself alone with a man. While most young women worried about finding themselves in a compromising position and unwanted marriage, Sabrina knew that there were worse things that could happen. "Three weeks," she said. "You?"

"About the same," he said. "I have a small estate not far from London where I'll summer." He took another sip of champagne watching as she downed the rest of her own. "The ducal country home is near Hampshire, is it not?" Douglas knew damn well where the Duke of St. Ives spent the summer. He also knew that the family had a villa in Italy as well as houses in France, Ireland and Scotland.

Sabrina nodded; realizing that she'd finished her champagne she set the glass down and eyed Lord Radcliff nervously. The night was dark, the lanterns along the veranda doing little to light the surrounding area. While they weren't completely alone, the few couples that came outside quickly disappeared into the surrounding rose garden. 

Douglas watched Sabrina eyeing the doorway behind him. He could see that she was nervous and cursed himself for having brought her out here. His only thought had been to get her alone for a few moments, just enough time to allow her to get a sense of him. Recognizing his error, he offered her his arm; "I believe it is time I return you to your friends. The ton has probably forgotten us by now."

Sabrina hesitated before cautiously slipping her arm into his; "I doubt that but they may have moved on to someone else."

"We can only hope," he said, and led her back inside. 

Back with Ellie, Sabrina smiled as Lord Radcliff bent over her hand. He didn't need to know that it was a smile of relief at finding herself back inside, safe among the crowd.

"Thank you for the lovely waltz, perhaps next time we'll be able to finish it." Douglas said. Nodding to the assembled gentlemen, he turned on his heels and quickly left the ball. He'd accomplished what he'd set out to do. While not a total failure, he realized that he needed to rethink his plan. Sabrina was wary and obviously skittish; there was no way he would be able to ease past her defenses enough to court her before the end of the Season. While he had hoped to take his time, allowing her to get to know him before broaching the subject of marriage, it appeared that he was going to have to take a different approach.

A few days later Sabrina was walking in her mother's garden when a maid approached. "Excuse me, my lady, but your father sent me to fetch you." Sabrina nodded; dismissing the maid she went to find her father. 

Sabrina found him in his study, sitting at his desk behind a mound of paperwork. His steward was noticeably absent which meant this was to be a private conversation. There had been more then a few since Sabrina's return two years ago. "You sent for me?"

Jonathan looked up and motioned Sabrina into a chair. "I did. I've spent the past two days in negotiations with Lord Radcliff, he's asked for your hand in marriage."

Sabrina felt the blood drain from her face; if her father had been negotiating with Lord Radcliff that meant he was seriously considering the man's offer. "I can't, you know that."

"You can and you will; the contract has already been signed and the announcement will appear in today's paper." Jonathan had intentionally waited to tell his daughter until it was too late. "You're to be married in two weeks. Lord Radcliff has already started the preliminary preparations; however, he's prepared to hand them over to you and your mother." 

"Father..." Sabrina was momentarily speechless. "We talked about this after...two years ago, and agreed that marriage was no longer an option."

Jonathan understood his daughter's reluctance but this was best for her. "Marriage to the young men courting you last Season was no longer an option. Lord Radcliff is different..."

"Because he's a bastard," Sabrina said bluntly.

Jonathan ignored her, "Lord Radcliff is different; he's older and his own...background, affords him a certain amount of understanding that would escape most men."

Understanding dawned and with it, horror. "You told him?!" Sabrina gripped the arms of the chair to keep from standing. 

"He made a very generous offer; I couldn't refuse out of hand nor did I want to. Full disclosure was required." Not that it was any of her business, Jonathan said, "Not only did he not withdraw his offer, he didn't change any of the terms at hearing of your situation."

Sabrina felt herself flush with shame. She hated feeling like a damaged breed mare having her purchase price negotiated. She'd always known that her marriage would be, in large part, business between her father and her future husband. Still, it was humiliating having her value discussed in terms of pounds. "What's wrong with him?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" Jonathan recognized that the worse was over, the shock was wearing off and Sabrina was on her way to acceptance.

"I mean, what's wrong with the man that he would take damaged goods for a wife?" Sabrina hated the bitter tone of her voice but couldn't help it. Over the years, she'd come to accept her situation but there were times like now when she found herself feeling resentful.

Jonathan considered his words carefully. "Obviously, he didn't know about your situation when he asked for your hand. Despite that fact, you are still considered a superb match and your similar stations make you an obvious choice."

"Would you have considered him an acceptable match for me if I was still a virgin?" Sabrina was surprised at her own boldness at asking but she needed to know.

Jonathan sighed; realizing that they were at the heart of the matter and that there was no avoiding it. "Honestly, I don't know. He's the son of a duke, no matter the circumstances of his birth, and with his father's illness likely to come into his title soon. Not only that, but he's reputed to have amassed quite a fortune on his own. You'll be the duchess of a wealthy estate. It's a good match."

Sabrina nodded. She knew her father spoke the truth and while she'd never really cared about titles, position or power it had bothered her to think that she was some how worth less now then before. "Alright," she agreed, knowing that her acceptance was mere formality. "What happens next?"

"Lord Radcliff requested that you join him for dinner tonight," her father said. "He expressed a desire that the two of you be given time to get acquainted before the wedding. His carriage will arrive at eight; you'll take your maid with you." Sabrina stood at the dismissal and let herself out of her father's study. As far as requests went, it was reasonable, almost considerate. 

Sabrina would have liked to spend the rest of the day thinking over her upcoming marriage and getting ready for her dinner with Lord Radcliff. Unfortunately, her mother had other ideas including an impromptu trip to the modiste.




English Rose Ch. 02



As promised, the announcement of her engagement to Lord Radcliff had appeared in that morning's paper and was the topic of conversation across London. Sabrina hadn't missed the sudden hush that fell over the modiste's shop at their entrance. Lifting her chin, Sabrina sailed forward and greeted her favorite seamstress.

The rest of the day was spent pouring over fashion plates, fabric, lace and all manner of trim. In the end, they not only settled on a design for her wedding dress but several new dresses more befitting a soon-to-be duchess. 

Back in her room, Sabrina stood before the mirror and ran a hand down the front of her dress. Madam Lisette had insisted that Sabrina take it despite having made it for another client. It was beautiful, unlike anything Sabrina had ever owned in cut and style. Gone were the modest cuts to the collar and cuffs and in their place sharp angels that revealed the skin above her breasts and the delicate turn of her wrists. 

Earlier, she'd bathed and then sat patiently while Tilly worked to curl Sabrina's hair and secure it to the top of her head. It was a common style, one she'd worn before, but with the sleeves of the dress starting off the shoulders it left the long line of her neck bare. Suddenly, Sabrina realized the mature nature of her dress and understood why maidens were required to wear the demure cut of a high collar.

Lord Radcliff's carriage arrived promptly at eight. Followed closely by her maid, Sabrina accepted the hand of a footman and settled back for the short ride. Like most of the ton, Lord Radcliff kept a residence in town. Not far from Sabrina's family home, it was located in the fashionable part of town. Sabrina remembered hearing someone say that Radcliff had acquired the house prior to becoming the legitimate heir to the dukedom. That meant that the London townhouse was not part of the titled estates and belonged to Radcliff separately. Sabrina had never given much thought to matters of title and wealth and now found herself wondering how her fiancé's estate would be worked to incorporate that of the title.

Lost in thought, it took Sabrina a moment to realize they had arrived. A moment later, the carriage door opened and the stairs let down. Once again, she allowed the footman to aid her before turning to consider what would eventually be her home.

The townhouse was large, taking up more then half of the city block. Several glass-paned windows stared back at her holding a promise of light within. Someone had taken the time to plant several small, blooming bushes along the front, helping to alleviate the dark color of the stone. Surprising, it had an inviting feel to it and Sabrina felt some of her apprehension ease as she walked up the front steps.

The front door opened and a liveried footman greeted Sabrina. Stepping into a large foyer, Sabrina allowed the young man to help her out of her cloak before escorting her to meet her fiancé. She was surprised when he directed her to the library and not the sitting room. 

The library was large, every available space filled with books including the shelves, tables, chairs and even the floor. It was obviously a well-used, well-loved room and Sabrina found she appreciated its comfort to the formality of most sitting rooms.

Douglas watched as his fiancé stepped into the room and stopped. He could see her eyes as they passed over the room, taking in the floor to ceiling shelves, the piles of books scattered on every available surface and the large bank of windows both at the front and the back of the room. Finally, they settled on him.

Sabrina found him standing in front of the fireplace. She had forgotten how large he was, not just tall but broad across the shoulders. As she watched, he set aside the drink he'd obviously been enjoying and even the glass looked small in his hands. Turning back to his face, Sabrina realized for the first time that he was nearly as dark in coloring as she with black hair and deep, dark blue eyes. 

Douglas crossed the room, stopping just out of reach. "Good evening, my lady," he said. Staring down, Douglas drank in the sight of her. Her dark hair and green eyes were set off against the color of her dress. The deep neckline revealed the tops of her breasts and his height offered him an almost indecent view of her cleavage. Already, his fingers positively itched to touch her.

Sabrina felt her face heat slightly under his close scrutiny. She was reminded of their abbreviated waltz and the feel of his arms holding her lightly. Swallowing against the sudden dryness of her mouth, she said, "good evening, my lord."

Douglas decided to get the elephant out of the room. "I was pleased to hear from your father that you had accepted my offer. I hope you'll forgive me for not speaking with you first."

Sabrina stepped more completely into the room, her maid slipping quietly into a chair in the corner. "Perhaps you'll be so kind as to tell my why, after one waltz, you offered for my hand and why you went about it the way you did." Sabrina knew that most young women would simply be grateful, especially given her situation. Still, she couldn't help but ask.

Douglas indicated a set of chairs before the fireplace. The fire had yet to be lit, the warm, spring day having sufficiently heated the room for another few hours. "Can I get you a drink?"

Sabrina nodded, "I'll have whatever you're having," she said. Sabrina despised the cordial and Madeira most young women drank.

Douglas poured them each a glass of brandy before joining her in front of the fire. "I suppose I could provide you with a list of all your attributes, all that you have to offer someone in my position." Douglas watched as she took a sip of brandy. "But the truth of the matter is you are unlike any woman I have ever met. As for how I handled things; I would have preferred to take the time to get to know you, court you properly, but the Season is coming to an end and you made it painfully obvious that you didn't want to have anything to do with me or any man for that matter."

Sabrina stared down into the dark liquid of her drink. The brandy was superb; probably the finest money could buy. Her first sip had slipped down the back of her throat, leaving a lingering trail of heat before settling into the pit of her stomach. She considered his words, everything said and unsaid, and sensed the truth in them. More then anything she wanted to believe that there was a chance for them but couldn't shake the feeling that they were two damaged people coming together. "May I ask you a question, my lord?"

"Douglas, and yes." Douglas waited patiently; he'd watched her thinking and suspected that she had something very specific on her mind.

"Why, given my reluctance to marry and what you now know as the reason why, do you want to marry me?" Sabrina held her breath, his answer important to her.

Douglas weighed his response for a moment; he couldn't tell her the truth, at least, not all of it. "I've been watching you for a while," he admitted. "In fact, I still remember the first time I saw you. From the very beginning, there has been something that drew me to you. Perhaps, some part of me recognized another injured soul and thought we might find some comfort in one another." He shrugged, uncomfortable with the unintended direction of his confession. "Admittedly, you are a very beautiful woman and I find myself attracted and intrigued." Douglas reached out and lightly touched the back of her hand, briefly and hopefully not so long as to make her uncomfortable. "I think, I hope, that the feeling is mutual."

Sabrina didn't pull her hand away. She had to admit that he was right; there was an attraction there, once she let herself feel it. "Well then, Douglas," she said, trying his name out for the first time, "it appears we're getting married."

Douglas breathed a small sigh of relief. He hadn't allowed himself to consider, even for a moment, that they wouldn't be getting married. However, he wanted her to come to their marriage willingly and without resentment. "So it would seem," he said, a trace of humor entering his dark eyes. "My hope is that we could spend a fair amount of the next two weeks getting to know one another. There are a number of entertainments left this Season with which to amuse ourselves, that is, if you're willing to turn the responsibility of your social calendar over to me."

Sabrina eyed him for a moment before nodding. "I dare say we are probably on most of the same guest lists."

Douglas took the moment to lighten the mood, "I will strive to surprise you, my lady."

"Sabrina," she corrected.

"Sabrina," Douglas said before standing and offered her his hand. "I believe our supper is ready."

Sabrina allowed Douglas to help her from her chair, readily slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. 

Dinner was a quiet, intimate affair. Sabrina's maid was dining with the rest of the staff and Douglas has eschewed the tradition of having the staff serve them in favor of family style dining. The two of them sat at one end of the formal table, plates and platters spread out before them. Sabrina was slightly dismayed and then utterly charmed when Douglas went to serve her.

Douglas made sure she had a little bit of everything, not realizing until he place her plate in front of her just how much food there was. Sabrina laughed and promised to try a bite of everything.

Dinner was...surprising; the conversation was light and Douglas turned out to be both utterly charming and a bit devilish. He was open and honest about both family and business, two topics men tended to avoid while in the company of women. For her part, Sabrina shared about her sisters, her friend Ellie and her secret passion for books.

After dinner, Douglas escorted Sabrina back into the library. It really was his favorite room in the house. After learning of her passion for books, he encouraged her to explore. "Once we're married," he said, "you should feel free to make whatever changes you like. Perhaps we can create a sitting space in here for you to use."

"I'd like that," Sabrina said and took a seat next to Douglas on the couch, it was growing dark and the fire had been lit. Sabrina's maid remained below stairs with the servants leaving the two of them alone. For the first time, Sabrina didn't feel fear at that thought. She was enjoying her evening with Douglas and was comfortable in his presence. 

They had settled into the couch, close but not touching, each of them with a glass of wine. The conversation slowed, becoming quiet until there was only silence. The silence stretched, not uncomfortable but heavy, with a touch of expectation. Slowly, Douglas raised his hand and very carefully tucked a lock of Sabrina's hair behind her ear. 

Sabrina shivered as the pad of his thumb brushed the lobe of her ear before trailing lightly down the length of her neck. Surprisingly, she was disappointed when he withdrew his hand. 

Douglas watched with satisfaction as Sabrina shivered at his touch. Instinctively, he knew that it was from desire and not fear. "Your skin is so soft," he whispered, surprised at the slightly husky sound of his voice. "That lock of hair came loose not long after you arrived; it's been driving me crazy all night."

"I'm sorry," Sabrina whispered, not knowing what else to say to that.

"Don't be," Douglas said and bent his head. One touch wasn't enough; he knew it would never be enough where Sabrina was concerned. It was absolute madness for him to marry her. He was guaranteed that she would eventually find out the role he'd played...hell, starred in, in her past. But he couldn't stop himself, it was that simple. He'd never been able to forget her, the feel of her skin beneath his hands or the taste of her on his tongue.

Sabrina watched as his head descended towards her; closing her eyes at the last moment, she couldn't stop her body from jerking as his mouth covered hers. She felt him pause, giving her the barest of moments to pull away, to tell him to stop. 

Douglas gave a low growl of pleasure when no refusal came and sunk them both deeper into the kiss. He touched her only with his mouth, one hand resting on the back of the couch, the other firmly in his own lap. Teasing her with his tongue, he nibbled at the corners of her mouth with his teeth before sweeping in to explore. 

Their tongues touched, danced and dueled until Sabrina felt breathless, swore that her head was spinning just from the taste of him. Without realizing it, she had reached up and twisted her fingers into the hair at the back of his head and was gripping it in her fists. She wanted him closer, wanted him to ease the pressure his kiss was building inside of her. 

Douglas sensed her need, knew it mirrored his own and sought to bring them back from the edge. He wanted to taste her, wanted to see the desire rise in her, but had no intention of taking things any further, at least not tonight.

Sabrina felt the shift in Douglas and let her fingers slip from his hair to his shoulders and finally back into her lap. She realized that his hand no longer remained motionless on the back of the couch but was now softly rubbing the tight muscles at the base of her neck. Where before his touch sought to insight passion it now sought to sooth.

Her eyes felt heavy as she opened them to find Douglas staring down at her. The sight of him, his lips swollen and red from their kiss, caused something to heat low below her belly. She knew desire when she felt it but hadn't felt it in so long, had never thought to feel it again after that one night. Frowning slightly, Sabrina realized that she didn't want thoughts of that night to intrude on this moment with Douglas. 

Douglas saw her frown and eased himself back, giving her more space. "Are you alright?" He asked. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't," Sabrina assured him. "I was just thinking...I haven't...that is, I don't..."

Douglas smiled reassuringly. "No worries; despite your past I recognize that you are a very proper young lady. But as I said earlier, I find you extremely attractive and, now that we're engaged, I look forward to a certain amount of...latitude. Besides," he said, grinning wickedly, "we did agree that we wanted to get to know each other."

Sabrina caught the note of teasing in his voice and smiled. Looking at him sideways, she asked. "Just how well were you hoping to get to know me, my lord?" 

Douglas, already hard and aching, felt himself surge against the front of his pants. He had no doubt that Sabrina knew exactly the sight she made sitting on his couch, her lips slightly abraded by his kiss. "Intimately," he said. This time, when he bent his head it was to place an almost chaste kiss at the edge of her jaw.

Sabrina couldn't hide her disappointment when Douglas stood and went to call for a footman; a short time later she found herself standing with her maid in the foyer and then quickly escorted to Douglas' carriage. The man himself saw her out and off with a quick smile that held a promise. "Until next time," he said and stepped back. 

The next day Douglas arrived to take tea with Sabrina and discuss their first public appearance since the announcement of their engagement. Sabrina normally took tea with her mother and sister; however, today Lady Montague excused herself taking her youngest daughter with her. Finding herself alone with her fiancé, Sabrina asked, "How do you take your tea?"

"Milk and sugar," he said

"Light and sweet?" Sabrina poured and served. "I wouldn't have thought."

Douglas took the delicate teacup and plate of cakes. "If you must know, I prefer coffee and take it black."

Sabrina looked up from preparing her own plate in time to catch Douglas taking his first sip. It was obviously not to his liking, despite the generous amount of milk and sugar.

Douglas watched as Sabrina smiled, a sparkle of humor evident in her eyes. "An Englishman that doesn't like tea, say it isn't so," she said. Shaking her head, she rose and crossed the room. A moment later she appeared beside his chair, a glass of brandy in hand. 

Douglas didn't take the glass; instead, he reached up and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. Tugging her gently onto his lap, he said, "There is something much sweeter then brandy that I would rather have."

Sabrina felt a thrill of pleasure shoot up her spine; she'd never been this close to Douglas before and felt positively indecent sitting in his lap. Still, she couldn't miss the obvious desire in his eyes or stop herself from appreciating the muscular feel of his thighs beneath her buttocks.

At first, she didn't know what to do with her hands but settled on sliding one arm around his neck and letting the other rest against his chest. She could feel his heart beat beneath her palm and his breath was warm against the side of her neck. "I don't think this is a good idea," she said.

"I'm positive it's not." Douglas said and pulling her head down took over her mouth. Unlike the night before, he didn't waste time teasing but simply plundered. 

Sabrina felt herself swept up and surrendered. She felt her body go soft and lean into him; her hand, previously lying passive against his chest, moved to grip the front of his shirt. Still not satisfied, Sabrina sought and found where the two halves of his shirt met and slipped her small hand inside.

Douglas growled as the heat of her hand touched his chest. It was the first time in nearly two years that he'd felt her hands on him. She didn't push her way inside, simply let herself explore the small patch of exposed skin, but it was enough to send the blood rushing to his head. Their mouths still fused together, Douglas wrapped his hands around her waist and shifted her slightly.

Sabrina pressed herself more firmly against Douglas' lap, her new position having brought her in direct contact with his obvious arousal. She found that she wanted, needed to get closer, and longed to feel more of him pressed up against her. "Douglas," she whispered pleadingly.

"I know," he said. Still holding her waist, he lifted her and turned her to face him, her legs straddling him on either side of his hips. 

Sabrina gasped as he brought her down on top of him. Their new position had cause the long skirt of her dress to gather up around her thighs. Unfortunately, there was still plenty between them including her underclothes and Douglas' slacks. Still, she could feel the hard length of him and tilted her hips to accommodate him.

Douglas thought he might loss control at that moment. Despite the barriers, he could feel her heat and knew that with a few simple movements could be buried deep inside of her. He fought against the urge to release himself from his pants and instead reached up and grasped the front of her dress.

She was wearing a modest morning dress with a square neckline. Still, the light material gave way surprisingly easily when he tugged, spilling her breasts out into his hands. "Beautiful," he whispered and bent to take one, rose colored nipple into his mouth.

Sabrina's sighed, her head falling back, as the warm, wet heat of his mouth surrounded her. Gently, he suckled, pulling her nipple lightly into his mouth. All sensible thoughts had fled as Sabrina felt herself growing restless. The heat of his mouth was amazing, made her ache to be closer but still wasn't enough. "More, Douglas, please."

Douglas obeyed and slipped one hand between their bodies. Finding the slit in her underclothes, he slipped his fingers inside and found her. She was wet and hot, her nether lips already slightly parted revealing the tender tip of her clit. He could feel her entire body straining above him and sought to give her some ease. Drawing her nipple more firmly into his mouth, he sucked hard while at the same time gripping her clit between his fingers and squeezing. 




English Rose Ch. 02



Sabrina shattered, her body bucking once as she came. Biting her lip against crying out, she rode waves of pleasure as Douglas continued to suck at her breast, his fingers stroking more gently between her thighs until she collapsed against his chest.

Douglas held her for several moments hoping that no one would pick that moment to enter and check on them. She was sprawled across his lap, her head resting on his shoulder, her breasts still bare against his chest. The scent of her spent desire hung lightly in the air but hopefully wouldn't linger for long. His own passion still raged and he wondered what possessed him to start something that he knew he couldn't finish in truth until their wedding night.

Above him, Sabrina shifted and groaned softly as her tender flesh brushed against the front of his slacks. Embarrassed and unable to look at him, she spoke against his neck. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Douglas' laugh held little humor. Sitting her up, he eased the front of her dress back in place before looking up into her eyes. "There are many things you could do that would give me some ease but I won't ask it of you until we're married. This was as much for me as for you."

Sabrina felt herself flush, "I'm not sure what came over me. It seems, when I'm with you, I forget myself."

Douglas smiled up at her with a very male satisfied look on his face. "I'm pleased to hear that. I too seem completely unable to keep my hands off of you." She looked away from him then and he could see something didn't sit well with her. "I hope," he said, "that you don't think that this anything to do with you coming to our marriage without your maidenhead."

Surprised, Sabrina's eyes flew to his face. "I did wonder if perhaps you thought that I..."

"You're wondering if I find you less virtuous or expect to take greater liberties with your person then I would if you remained a virgin," he put it plainly. At her nod, he continued. "No. First, let me state unequivocally that I do not now nor will I ever blame you for what happened. Nor do I believe that your situation entitles me to access to your person I wouldn't other wise afford myself." Douglas ran a hand through his hair and smiled. "What I will say is that I feel a certain amount of...possessiveness now that we are engaged and find it very hard not to sample your charms. I fear that I would feel the same even if you were still a virgin and would probably meet with the same level of success at staying away as I currently do."

"Oh," was all Sabrina could think to say but he could tell that she was pleased. Quickly, before he changed his mind, Douglas lifted her from his lap and set her on her feet. Her dress was terribly wrinkled and her hair slightly mussed. She looked like a woman that had enjoyed herself and he was hard pressed not to continue.

Standing, he said, "I had intended that we talk about tonight's events and decide on which one to attend. However, I think it best if I take my leave and let you decide where you would like to go tonight." Tugging his coat into place, he tried to cover his obvious arousal. He was startled when Sabrina stepped forward and straightened his cravat and smoothed down the front of his shirt. Nodding his thanks, he said, "I'll be by at eight to pick you up; you can give me our direction then."

Sabrina nodded and watched as he started to walk from the room. "Douglas?"

"Yes," he said, turning to see her still standing beside the couch.

"I had a lovely time today but next time I want to pick up where we left off." She felt herself blush at her boldness but his earlier assurances suggested that he would be pleased. 

Douglas felt his mouth go dry at the image that came to mind and nodded. "Very well," he said and left before changing his mind and taking her with him.

At eight o'clock Sabrina stood in front of her mirror nervously regarding her appearance. Madam Lisette had managed to send over another dress, this one created especially for Sabrina. Colored a deep burgundy, it was elegant in its simplicity. The heart shaped bodice followed the natural curve of her breasts and was cinched down the back corset style. The skirt hung heavy, accenting the natural flair of her hips before flowing into a small train. The train could be bustled at the back later to allow for dancing and walking in a crowded ballroom. Leaving her arms and shoulders bare, Madam Lisette had fashioned a pair of matching gloves that ended above the elbow. 

After reviewing the invitations for the evening, Sabrina had decided on the Hodgins' Ball. It was an annual event, held at the end of the Season and thought by many to be the ball to attend. Lord and Lady Hodgins were also long time friends of her father and therefore less likely to give Sabrina and Douglas the cut direct. Even more importantly, they were genuinely good people and Sabrina liked them. It would be considered quite a coup for the hostess of whatever ball they attended tonight and Sabrina wanted that honor to go to someone she liked. 

"My lady?"

"Yes, Tilly." Sabrina checked to make sure her necklace and earrings were secure before slipped a large amethyst onto her finger.

"Lord Radcliff has arrived and is waiting."

"Thank you," Sabrina said. "Oh, and Tilly, don't bother waiting up. I'm sure the ball will go late and Lord Radcliff and I will stay for most of it."

"Of course, my lady."

Sabrina fought off a blush, not wanting to think about the real reason she didn't want her maid waiting up for her. She could still feel Douglas' mouth and hands on her, the memory bringing with it a fresh flush to her skin, and she hoped that they might pick up where they left off. She had to admit, she was intrigued with the idea of the things he left unsaid, of what she could do for him. Giving herself one final glance, Sabrina turned and went to greet her fiancé.

Douglas stood at the bottom of the stairs watching as Sabrina glided towards him. She was a vision; her dark hair piled on top of her head but with several locks left to dance upon her bare shoulders. He noted the difference between the dress she wore last night and tonight to the day dress of this afternoon. During the day she seemed content to wear the more simple styles of a young woman while at night she slipped into the skin of a lady. Both suited her and he found the contrast intriguing. "Good evening, my lady."

Sabrina stopped half way down the stairs and stared; her finance was severe in black and white and devastatingly handsome. For a moment, realizing that he belonged to her, it was all she could do to breath. "Oh my," Sabrina sighed in appreciation and walked the rest of the way down the stairs. "You look amazing."

Douglas smiled, pleased by her compliment. "Thank you, but I pale in comparison to your loveliness." Helping Sabrina with her wrap, he led her to the waiting carriage and assisted her inside, waiting until they were under way before saying, "I must admit I was impressed when you sent your note regarding the Hodgins' Ball. I don't think I could have picked better."

"Thank you," Sabrina said.

Douglas noted that she was staring out the carriage window, her attention somewhere else. "Are you nervous about tonight?"

"What? Oh, a little," Sabrina turned to look at him. "Are you?"

"No, but I think I'll have an easier time of it. I'm used to the gossip, after all." Douglas took her hand in his, "I would spare you this is I could. Unfortunately, neither one of us is in a position to remain hidden for long. Besides, the sooner we get this done and over with the easier it will be going forward."

"I know," she said. "You forget though, I've been the subject of much gossip and speculation over the past year. I just never really grew accustom to it."

"What about you," he asked. "Growing up, were you one to gossip?" Douglas was surprised to realize that he wanted to know, was curious at the kind of child she had been growing up.

Sabrina shook her head. "No, well, I suppose that isn't entirely true. I was never one to talk but I think that's mainly because of Ellie." She smiled at the thought of her best friend. "Ellie knows everything there is to know about everyone. I honestly don't know how she does it."

Douglas nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"Oh dear, I wouldn't want you to think badly of Ellie," Sabrina said, realizing how she was making her friend sound. "She never meant any harm and I'm the only one she ever talks to." They were nearing the Hodgins' townhouse and Sabrina found herself once again feeling nervous. She had no way of knowing what kind of reception they would receive; for the first time in her life she was unfamiliar ground.

Douglas gave Sabrina's hand a squeeze and waited for the carriage to pull in front of the townhouse. Liveried servants stepped forward to open the door and lower the stairs before escorting the couple up the front steps and in to the foyer. 

Douglas had timed their arrival on the early side of fashionable. He wanted to make sure that they were seen by many but already announced and in the ballroom before the majority of the ton arrived. 

Making their way through the receiving line, they were greeted warmly by both Lord and Lady Hodgins. Stepping to the stairs leading into the ballroom, Sabrina and Douglas waited to be announced. Their names, announced together, brought an expected hush to the room.

Douglas glanced down at Sabrina and was surprised when she flashed him a brilliant smile. He was sure there had been a hit of mischief in her eyes as she turned to face the crowd. "To hell with it," she said so only he could hear. "I say we stop taking this so bloody seriously and maybe even give them something worth talking about."

Unwittingly, Douglas did just that when he threw his head back and laughed. "Absolutely, my dear, shall we start with a dance?" At her nod, he led them directly to the dance floor and into his arms. 

Sabrina's breath caught in her chest as she was captured in his arms and led through the steps. He held her closer then the dance called for, earning several comments from those close enough to see. Looking up into his face, she knew how they must appear with their dark heads held close together and their similar coloring. 

"...dancing with the Devil..." Sabrina laughed at Douglas' raised eyebrow at the overheard comment from a passing matron. "If only they knew, my lord, just how dangerous you are to a young lady."

Douglas smiled; glad to see that she wasn't regretting their rash decision. "Only to you; there is no one else for me."

Sabrina saw that he was serious. It was something not spoken of openly and certainly never to an unmarried lady, but given his paternity shouldn't have come as a surprise. "I am relieved to hear it, my lord."

As the dance ended Douglas led them off of the dance floor; the ballroom had filled up while they danced and the crowd slowed their progress. Finding a space off to one side, Douglas sent a footman for champagne and then waited with Sabrina for the horde to descend. 

It didn't take long before they were approached by the first of many couples. There were congratulations aplenty but not everyone was happy with the match. There were men that thought Douglas had stepped above himself and women jealous of Sabrina's position as a future duchess. Sabrina was cutting with both and it quickly become evident that she would let no one disparage her fiancé or her position by his side.

Douglas watched as Sabrina sent one woman scurrying before turning a gracious smile on one of his business associates. He realized that she was in her element. She may have never expected to need to but she'd been raised to handle any situation and did so with grace. She was beautiful to watch and he felt a moment of pride mixed with fear at the idea of ever losing her. 

He knew that he would have to tell her sooner or later that he was the man from her past. But not yet, not tonight; he wanted to make sure that she was securely tied to him before he risked revealing himself.

Sabrina caught Douglas' frown. "Are you alright, my lord?"

Douglas mentally shook himself, now was not the time to be thinking about the past. "I'm fine," he said and smiled. "Isn't that the lovely Miss Mills coming this way?"

Sabrina turned in time to watch her friend's fast approach. Ellie, court in tow, practically threw herself into Sabrina's arms. "Congratulations! I was thrilled when I heard the news; though imagine my distress at not having heard it from you."

Sabrina knew Ellie wasn't cross, "I'm sorry, El. I didn't know myself until the news was published in the paper." 

Ellie drew closer to Sabrina; it was almost impossible to have a private conversation surrounded as they were but the crowd was loud enough to drown out most of their voices. "Are you happy with the match? Word has it that you've cut off anyone dumb enough to disrespect Lord Radcliff but I know you, you would be loyal no matter your personal feelings."

Sabrina patted Ellie's hand and offered a reassuring smile. "I'll admit I was taken completely by surprise, but yes, I am happy. I think Douglas and I will get on quite well."

Ellie leaned in even more and lowered her voice to a bare whisper. "Is he...aware of your situation?"

"He is," came a low voice from behind them, causing both women to jump.

Sabrina turned to find Douglas standing behind them. "For the love of...don't scare me like that!"

Douglas smiled, not a hint of chagrin in evidence. "I couldn't help it; the two of you had your heads bent so close together I could only guess at the secrets you must be sharing." Turning to Ellie, he said, "I hear you're particularly good at ferreting out information."

Sabrina shrugged at Ellie's glare, "it's true," she said. Turning to Douglas, she said, "My lord, my I introduce my good friend, Lady Eleanor Mills. Ellie, this is my fiancé, Lord Douglas Radcliff."

Ellie couldn't help but sigh as Lord Radcliff bent over her hand. He really was devilishly handsome. While she would never begrudge Sabrina a moment of happiness, she couldn't help but envy her friend's good fortune. Most of her admirers were young men of the ton and while handsome none of them held the dangerous allure of Lord Radcliff.

"Am I to understand from your conversation that you are aware of what happened last year?" He asked.

Ellie felt herself caught in his eyes, so dark blue as to be almost black, and felt herself weighed and measured. She didn't doubt for a moment that they held both an invitation of friendship and a warning. Never without something to say, Ellie found herself suddenly speechless. Thankfully, Sabrina answered for her. "Douglas, Ellie has been my one source of comfort these past many months. She was the only one I could talk to about what happened and she's spent the better part of this past year trying to convince me to reconsider marriage."

Douglas held Ellie's eyes for a moment more before bowing once again. "It would seem I owe you my thanks." 

"I didn't do it for you, my lord," Ellie said quietly. "Sabrina is my best friend; I would see her happy despite what happened."

Douglas wondered if Sabrina had, in fact, told her best friend everything. "Well, whatever your reasons, thank you. I hope that you will be a frequent guest whenever you're in town."

"My lord, I suspect you will eventually tire of finding me around and under foot." Ellie said and turned back to Sabrina with a inaudible sigh of relief. "Now, you really must come for lunch tomorrow, we have a lot of catching up to do and I want to hear all about the plans for the wedding."

Sabrina smiled. "Of course." 

Douglas, watching Ellie with Sabrina, couldn't help but notice how different the young women were. Not only was Ellie pixie-like with blonde hair and blue eyes, she was a bundle of barely contained energy. She had arrived with half her court of suitors and was busy directly them, all the while maintaining a conversation with Sabrina and ferreting out new bits of gossip. Sabrina, standing at the center of all that energy, appeared the calm to Ellie's storm. The two seemed to compliment each other and it was obvious that there was an enduring friendship there.

"Well," Ellie announced a few moments later, "I really must be off. By the way, mother and father wanted me to convey their congratulations. Mama is a bit under the weather and father refuses to attend these things without her."

It was after three o'clock in the morning when Douglas found Sabrina and led her willingly to the waiting carriage. The ball was still in full swing but both were tired from the stress of the past few days and he longed to be alone with her. With her head resting on his shoulder, Sabrina looked up at him. "Did you enjoy yourself?" 

"I suppose you could say that; I enjoyed being there with you, the rest of it..." Douglas waived a dismissive hand. "I've never much cared for the ballrooms of London. Unfortunately, it is where most of the business takes place."

Sabrina heard the bitterness in his voice, "and that bothers you?"

Douglas frowned in the dark. "What bothers me is that most of the gentlemen consider it beneath them to do business, and not just with me. They consider themselves morally superior to me simply by accident of birth." Douglas shrugged, hoping to dismiss the topic. "I suppose that is a consequence of my birth. I've seen what it takes for men and women to work for a living and none of them judged me for my lack of breeding."

Looking down, Douglas caught Sabrina watching him. Lowering his head he brushed his lips lightly across her mouth. He had meant for it to be a chaste kiss, quick and light, but the moment their mouths met the heat between them ignited.

Sabrina turned toward him as his arms slid around her waist, pulling her up against his chest. Her softness yielding to the hard line of him, she braced both hands against his chest. 

Douglas growled and slipped his tongue inside, exploring and exploiting the depths of her mouth. Her taste saturated his senses, calling forth images of her lying naked, tangled in his sheets. 

Sabrina wasn't thinking about his taste or past nights experienced in the dark. She was too caught up in the texture of his mouth and the feel of his heart beating against her palms. His hands found their way into her hair and pulling the pins free Douglas sent her thick, dark locks cascading down her back. 

Douglas had forgotten how long her hair was and didn't need to feign surprise as it settled around her waist. It was like heavy silk in his hands, warm and alive with the heat from her body. Breaking their kiss, he ran his hands through her hair. "One of these days, I want to see you wearing nothing but your hair."

Sliding his hands down her back, he gripped her waist and roughly pulled her onto his lap. Sitting slightly higher, her hair floated down around them enclosing them in a world where only they existed. His hands, moving again, slid up her sides until he came to her breasts.

Aching, wanting him to touch her and no longer able to wait, Sabrina whimpered softly.

Hearing her, Douglas ordered, "Tell me you want me."

Sabrina opened her eyes; looking down at him she could see the bright light of passion that mirrored her own. "Yes, I want you. Please, Douglas, touch me."

Douglas didn't bother with her ties; instead he simply reached into the front of her gown and grasping her breasts, freed them from their restraints. Hungrily, he lowered his head and took one hardened nipple into his mouth. Gently at first, he circled the tightened nub with his tongue.

Highly aroused, his touch came off as the barest of heat. Sabrina needed more. Twisting her fingers in his hair she pulled it free from the strip of leather he had used to tie it back and pulled him closer. Her entire body felt restless and she squirmed in his lap.




English Rose Ch. 02



Douglas understood and sought to give her some relief. Suckling harder he drew her nipple more completely into his mouth, nipping and biting. At the same time, he grasped her other nipple between his fingers and began pinching and pulling on it.

Sabrina sighed in pleasure and tried to move her body closer. She wanted to touch him, to give him back all the pleasure he had bestowed on her. Releasing his hair, she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and finally felt the fabric separate. Sliding her hands in between the two halves of material she encountered a smooth chest.

Douglas felt his cock surge as her fingers brushed across the sensitive skin of his chest and started tracing down the length of his ribs. When she reached the flat of his stomach and circled his naval he nearly released himself in his pants. Releasing her nipples, he picked her up again and guided her movement so that she sat facing him, her legs straddling him on either side. Following the length of her legs with his hands he pushed the skirt of her gown up and around her waist. He shivered slightly when he encountered the tops of her stockings and finally bare skin. Her thighs were like heated satin and he spent several seconds stroking the tender skin. Finally giving in to what they both wanted he slid his fingers between her thighs letting them tangle with the soft curls.

Sabrina gasped for breath and forgot to let it out. Douglas was now exploring the folds of her skin, spreading her slightly and tickling her with his fingertips. He found her clit and started stroking her with long, consistent strokes. At the same time he increased the pressure urging her higher and higher. She pressed herself more fully into his hands and his fingers slipped inside of her. Filled for the first time in almost two years, she started contracting around him almost immediately. Her hands, which had been resting lightly on his shoulders, clutched convulsively trying to hold on while the rest of her shattered.

Douglas held her tight; her breasts were pressed firmly against his chest while her head rested against his shoulder. She had been a sight to see with her head thrown back and her lips parted on a silent scream of pleasure. He knew that he would relive the last few moments again and again until he had every aspect of her committed to memory. He was so intent on thinking about what they had just been doing that he jumped at the feeling of her hands moving across his chest. 

Sabrina was slowly exploring every inch of him but with a definite destination in mind. Her hands covered the flat plane of his stomach before reaching the top of his breeches. Quickly, she slipped the top button free.

Douglas suddenly realized what she was doing and thought to stop her. He had fully intended to offer her some relief and take care of himself later. He may have mentioned the possibility of ways to give him comfort but hadn't intended to explore any of them with her until they were married. Opening his mouth, Douglas prepared to tell her to stop only to have the words catch in his throat. 

Free from his breeches, Sabrina had wrapped her hand around the swollen shaft of his cock. All thoughts of stopping fled as she squeezed and caressed him. She moved from gripping him firmly to lightly caressing the length of him with her fingertips. The constant change in pace and pressure helped to keep him from his release. Were all women born with the innate knowledge to control a man's orgasm? 

Sabrina had been watching her hands at work but now looked up. Douglas sat with his head resting back against the carriage wall, his eyes closed. There was no light in the carriage; the shades had been drawn so that even the occasional street lamp was prohibited from penetrating their intimate world. Nothing more then a silhouette in the shadows, Douglas suddenly reminded her of another man in another dark place. Caught by surprise, Sabrina was unable to suppress the feelings of fear and excitement that coursed through her.

Douglas felt her shiver. "Are you cold?"

Sabrina shook her head both in answer and to clear away the unwelcome memories. "No." Their eyes locked, she felt him surge in her hand and knew that his own pleasure couldn't wait. Stroking him, she ran her thumb over the head of his cock only to find it already well lubricated with his seed. 

Douglas groaned as his eyes closed once again. "Unless you're willing to accept the mess I'll make in your hand I suggest you stop."

"Douglas?"

He could hear the hesitation in her voice. Opening one eye he contemplated the young woman so elegantly straddling his lap. Her hair was unbound, her breasts free and her face flushed with pleasure. She looked like a woman well used and he was arrogantly pleased to know that he had done that to her. "Hmmm?"

"Make love to me." It was a request made in a barely audible whisper.

Douglas closed his eyes again and taking a deep breath prepared to tell her all the reasons why they should wait. But before he could offer a word of protest he felt Sabrina shift and found his cock poised at the entrance to her body. Gripping her hips, he held her immobile above his hips. Gritting his teeth, he said, "We should wait until after we're married."

Sabrina whimpered. Despite her earlier release there was an ache low in her belly and she knew it was something only he could appease. "I don't want to wait."

"Sabrina, look at me." Douglas' voice was quick and commanding. "I don't want you to think that you deserve any thing less then my total respect. I will not take advantage of the situation."

Sabrina smiled. "I already know that. If you didn't feel that way you would have withdrawn your offer of marriage and sought me as a mistress once you'd learned the truth."

Douglas was surprised, and humbled, by her faith in him. She judged him a better man than he did himself and the realization left his confused.

Sabrina frowned and tried to lower herself. "Douglas! Please! Make love to me, NOW!"

Something inside of him snapped; perhaps it was the demand in her voice or the urgency of his own need. Whatever it was it didn't matter. He no longer cared about wedding dates and respect. His only thought was how quickly he could impale her on his cock.

Douglas did two things at once. He released his hold on her waist and at the same time thrust up with his hips. The result was the sudden joining of flesh that left them both breathless. 

Without giving her time to adjust or recover, Douglas set them into a furious rhythm. Guiding her movements, he brought her down on his cock time and time again. With her hands braced once again on his shoulders, Douglas could feel the muscles of her hips and thighs working to keep time with him as he thrust up to meet each of her downward movements.

She was tight and he had a fleeting thought about hurting her. It was his first taste of her in almost two years and Douglas feared he would find his release before she did. Grinding his teeth against the need to let go, he strove to take her higher. Slipping one hand between their bodies he found her clit and started to stroke her. A few, firm touches combined with the pleasurable pounding of his cock was all it took and Sabrina was once again shuddering in his arms. With a final, fierce stroke he joined her, his cock exploding and sending his seed deep inside of her. 

For several minutes they held each other, neither one wanting to move. Douglas brushed the hair back from her face and places a gentle kiss upon her forehead. Sabrina smiled at the sweet gesture and kissed the hollow beneath his neck in return.

Sitting her up, Douglas helped her to reposition her clothes before moving her back to the seat beside him. Offering her his handkerchief, he nodded between her legs. When she didn't immediately comprehend he moved and, slipping one hand beneath her skirts, wiped the wetness from between her thighs.

Righting his own clothes, Douglas knocked on the top of the carriage. His coachman was wise enough to guess at what the occupants of the carriage had been up to and had been quietly circling the park for the past three quarters of an hour. He wasn't the only one. Receiving a sign from his master, the driver turned the carriage and headed for the Montague townhouse.

Sabrina let her head rest on Douglas' shoulder, enjoying the feel of his arm around her waist. To Sabrina, the night had taken on new meaning; she felt different and wondered if this was how other women felt on their wedding night. Nothing could erase the past, but with Douglas' help she was moving on with her life.

Douglas felt the need to say something, he just wasn't sure what. So many thoughts were running through his mind; for him, the past and present met for the first time tonight. He was flooded with images of Sabrina in all the many ways he'd seen her. While he reveled in the feel of it, he hated the deception he continued to play. He told himself that it was just until they were married; it was of small comfort to his conscious.

"Sabrina?"

"Hmm..." Sabrina said, not wanting to rouse herself from the languid feel of resting beside Douglas. It felt good, even in the stiff seats of the carriage; what would it be like to spend the night together in bed?

Not sure what he intended to say, he asked, "Would you ride with me tomorrow morning?"

"I'd love to," she said and yawned. "Just not too early, okay?"

Douglas smiled, realizing that she was half asleep beside him. "Of course, I'll call on you at eleven."

Sabrina, with Douglas' help, managed to step down from the carriage without falling on her face. She'd been unable to re-pin her hair without the help of her maid so settled for pulling up the hood of her cloak. Douglas walked her to the door, his hand at her elbow, but didn't release her until he'd pulled her in for one last kiss. "Until tomorrow," he said.

Sabrina watched as he jogged down the stairs and stepped quickly into the carriage before turning to go inside. Thankfully, the footman at the door was asleep at his post and didn't see her as she slipped past. Tilly had also gone to bed, as ordered, leaving Sabrina to slip out of her dress and into bed alone. Curling up on her side, Sabrina felt her eyes start to close and wondered at the new sensation she was feeling. It felt a lot like hope.

To be continued...



English Rose Ch. 03



The week before Sabrina's wedding went by in a daze. Her days were spent with her mother planning and preparing for the wedding while her evenings were reserved for Douglas. 

Together, they attended the last of the Season's balls, a music recital that was painfully bad and the theater. Their arrival at each event was marked and noted but even the gossip mongers were hard pressed to find fault with either of them.

The night before the wedding the Duke and Duchess of St. Ives were hosting a dinner party for their daughter and her fiancé. It was to be a small, private affair with only family and a few close friends. Sabrina appreciated the sentiment but was concerned when Douglas didn't add to the guest list.

"Your father won't be joining us?" she asked. It was the night before the dinner party and they were on their way home from the theater when she broached the subject.

Douglas sat with his head resting against the back of the carriage seat, eyes closed. "No."

Sabrina bit her lip and wondered at the wisdom of pressing further. Up until now, they had carefully avoided the topic of Douglas' father and the circumstances of his birth. "Did you invite him?"

"No," Douglas said and sighed. Sensing that Sabrina wouldn't be put off he lifted his head and caught her looking at him. "I didn't invite him because I already know that he is too sick to travel."

"Oh," Sabrina said. She'd never considered the possibility that the Duke would be physically unable to attend his son's wedding. Taking a different approach, she asked, "Is there anyone else you'd like to invite?"

Douglas smiled; it was obvious that his fiancé was worried about him and his lack of family. "The only other family I have is my father's sister and she's currently caring for him. I wouldn't ask her to leave him."

"You don't think that either of them would want to be there?" Sabrina sensed something more.

Douglas looked away and out the carriage window. "I haven't spoken with my father since he legally recognized me and made arrangements for me to inherit. It was the first and only time we'd ever spoken. As for my Aunt Mae," he shrugged, trying to appear casual, "she was always good to me, as much as propriety would allow, but she's very close to my father and I doubt she would leave him."

Knowing that he wouldn't want her pity, Sabrina covered Douglas' hand with her own silently offering what comfort she could. Touched by the gesture, Douglas gripped her fingers tightly and continued to stare out the window.

A moment later the carriage came to a stop outside the St. Ives townhouse. When Douglas didn't immediately move to open the door Sabrina looked up to find him still staring out the window. 

Quietly, she slid into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "What are you thinking?" she asked. 

"Dark thoughts," he admitted, "nothing worth sharing." 

Comforted by her nearness, Douglas slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. Immediately, she softened against him allowing him to rest his head against her chest. Nuzzling her neck, Douglas took in the smell of the light scent she wore before moving to press a kiss to the top of her breasts.

Sabrina sighed and shifted closer, a low heat already starting to build. With her arms around his neck she pulled him closer and let her head fall back.

Douglas moved down the valley between her breasts raining light kisses along the way. She wore one of her new dresses, the low-cut bodice giving him easier access to her generous cleavage while his hands explore the curve of her waist and the flare of her hips.

Sabrina couldn't stop the small moan of pleasure as Douglas continued his exploration of her breasts or the whimper of frustration when he failed to release her from her dress. Restless, she moved against him trying to tempt him into easing the pressure. "Douglas, please."

"Hush," he whispered. He could sense her struggles and knew that it was unfair to start something he had no intention of finishing. He had promised himself that he wouldn't take her again until they were married yet time and again he found her in his arms.

He wanted her, his need for her as desperate as the need to breathe to a drowning man, yet he resisted. After the other night in the carriage he'd fought with himself and his conscious. It didn't feel right making love to her without the benefit of marriage, not so long as she remained unaware of their shared past. 

Douglas had convinced himself that everything would be different once they were married. He shied away from the truth, from the thought that once Sabrina knew the truth she would hate him. 

Turning his attention back to the handful of woman in his lap, Douglas eased down the front of her dress releasing her breasts. In the dim light of the carriage he was just barely able to make out the dark color of her nipples. Dipping his head, he drew circles around the tight peaks with his tongue, taking his time with one before moving on to the other. 

Sabrina sighed in relief as her breasts were freed from her dress and then moaned in pleasure as Douglas pulled one nipple into his mouth, suckling gently. Each pull of his mouth sent a corresponding pulse of pleasure to her clit until she was wet and aching. "Oh God, Douglas, don't stop."

"Never," his whispered. Douglas felt his desire grow as she responded in his hands. Her body was warm, almost pliant, moving with a sensual grace that she seemed completely unaware of. He ached to lay her out before him, to take his time with her and make love to her with every part of his being.

Carefully shifting their positions, Douglas settled Sabrina on the carriage seat. Looking up, he felt his desire surge at the sight of her. Her hair was slightly mussed and her eyes, bright with desire, stared down at him as he knelt between her legs.

Eyes locked on Douglas' face, Sabrina braced both hands on the bench beneath her and lifted her hips watching as he pushed up her skirts and spread her thighs. She couldn't turn away, couldn't stop the slight hitch in her breathing as she watched him slowly lower his head. He was darkly beautiful, his black hair striking against the pale skin of her thighs. 

Douglas slid his hands beneath her, cupping her buttocks and pulled her forward to the very edge of the bench. The movement caused her thighs to part further revealing her delicate pink pussy. 

Already wet and swollen, Douglas could see her juices glistening in the moonlight. Bending his head, he slowly slid his tongue up the length of her slit enjoying the now familiar taste of her. Hearing Sabrina sigh above him Douglas eased forward settling himself more firmly between her thighs. 

He used his lips and tongue to taste and touch every part of her from the base of her slit to the tip of her clit. He parted her folds and dipped his tongue into her core. Almost immediately her muscles tightened, drawing him in deeper. Unable to get deep enough with his mouth, Douglas swirled his tongue around the edge of her opening before replacing it with his fingers and sliding them inside. 

Sabrina moaned deep in her throat at the satisfying feeling of being filled. Rocking her hips forward, she pushed herself more firmly against Douglas' hand and shuddered. Unable to stop, her body picked up a rhythm that she would ride to completion.

Douglas curled his fingers and stroked that spongy spot she enjoyed so much. At the same time, he moved to take the tip of her clit into his mouth sucking gently and stroking it with his tongue. It didn't take long for them to match pace, his tongue stroking her clit while her hips rocked back and forth on his fingers.

"Oh God, Douglas. Harder, please, harder," Sabrina groaned, the pinnacle of release just out of reach.

Douglas obliged, curling his fingers and taking her clit more firmly into his mouth. A moment later, Sabrina arched in his hands, her body growing taunt before shuddering in release.

Sabrina came back to herself slowly; her body felt heavy but relaxed as she opened her eyes and contemplated the man still kneeling before her. Douglas sat with his head resting on her thigh watching her, his eyes were bright and his lips glistened. Without thinking, Sabrina leaned forward and kissed him, tasting herself for the first time.

Douglas felt his cock surge as she licked at his lips and slipped her tongue into his mouth. Maintaining the kiss, Douglas rose up onto his knees following her as she sat back and pressing up against the front of her.

Sabrina reached out and drew Douglas to her, she could feel the evidence of his arousal pressed firmly between her legs and longed to free him, feeling him sliding into her body. Running her hands down his chest she pulled his shirt free and reached inside, feeling his stomach muscles flutter as she brushed against him with her fingertips.

"Sabrina," Douglas growled in warning as she reached for the front of his breeches.

"It's my turn," she said and slipped the first button free. The rest quickly followed, each one bringing her that much closer to her goal. 

She caught him as he sprang free. Wrapping her fingers around his cock, she smiled in satisfaction as he groaned, his forehead dropping to rest on her shoulder. She took her time, teased and touched, caressing the length of him before once again wrapping him in her grip. 

Douglas couldn't stop from moaning or from thrusting himself into her hand. Closing his eyes, he allowed her to tease and torture him, her gentle touches sending little shock waves of pleasure along every one of his nerves. Finally, desperate with the need to cum, Douglas reached down and wrapped his hand around hers urging her to grip him tighter.

Sabrina felt her nipples pebble as Douglas guided her movements. This was the first time he'd allowed her to explore and she reveled in the sensation of him coming alive in her hand. 

Following his lead, Sabrina kept a firm grip on his cock that allowed for his thrusts. His cock wept pre-cum, which she used to lubricate her hand and ease his passage. Her hand slick and tight, it wasn't long before Douglas was pumping his hips, his body growing tense. 

Lifting his head, Douglas grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Feeling her open up, her lips parting and her tongue darting out to meet him, Douglas gave a low moan of pleasure. At the same time he felt his sac pull up tight and cock surged. Thrusting forward, Douglas felt his hips lock as he came. He had just enough sense to cover the head of his cock with his hand, catching most of his cum and avoiding making a mess of either of them.

Sabrina held him, her hand still wrapped around his cock, for the space of several heartbeats until his body no longer twitched and he had begun go grow heavy against her. 

"Thank you," he said and pressed a kiss against the side of her neck.

Sabrina laughed quietly, the sound husky in the dark. "It was my pleasure."

Douglas willed his body to move, his orgasm having left him feeling relaxed and boneless. Suspecting himself of crushing her, he braced his hands on either side of Sabrina and pushed himself to his feet taking a seat next to her. His head once again resting against the seat, he said, "I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"I beg your pardon?" Sabrina asked, amused.

"I had thought to wait until our wedding night to make love to you again but every time I touch you all thoughts and good intentions seem to flee." Douglas said. 

Sabrina felt herself smiling in the dark. She was highly aroused from having watched Douglas despite her earlier release. "You may have thought to wait," she said, "but that doesn't mean we have to."

Douglas groaned. "You are a tempting minx," he said. "But no, the next time I take you it will be in a proper bed with the benefit of marriage."

Sabrina huffed in mock displeasure. "Who would have thought you'd be such a stickler for propriety."

Laughing, Douglas pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before jumping from the carriage. For a moment he thought Sabrina would refuse his offered hand, which only made him laugh harder. "Come now, it's almost dawn and we have a busy day tomorrow."

Sabrina sighed but allowed Douglas to help her from the carriage and escort her to the front door of her father's townhouse. A moment later he broke free from their kiss and practically tossed her inside. She felt a childish sense of satisfaction at seeing him as aroused and frustrated as she was and let that thought carry her to bed. Serves him right, she thought. 

The next day was more of the same; Sabrina spent the day with her mother in conference with the modiste, the florist and the caterer while Douglas spent it wrapping up business for the summer. Still, she managed to find a moment to draft a quick note and send it, hoping that her mother wouldn't notice the absence of a single footman.

That night, as she readied for dinner, Sabrina found herself feeling uncharacteristically nervous at the idea of spending the evening with her family. This was the first time that they would be together with Douglas; she wasn't sure which she was more afraid of - that they wouldn't like Douglas or Douglas wouldn't like them.

She was the last to arrive and could hear the light sounds of conversation as she neared the sitting room. Relieved at the lack of tension, she forced herself to step forward and into the room. 

Almost immediately her eyes found Douglas; he was hard to miss standing as he was with one arm resting comfortably along the back of her mother's chair. Once again struck by how handsome he was Sabrina noted that he stood out among the others. From the length of his hair to the breadth of his shoulders to his quick laugh he stood in stark contrast to the other men in the room. 

The other men consisted of her father and brother, both of which were precise specimens of the English nobleman with their pale good looks and quiet demeanor. Sabrina wasn't surprised to find that she preferred the dark good looks of her fiancé.

Douglas watched Sabrina as she entered. Not bothering to wait, he crossed the room and greeted her with a smile. "Good evening, my lady. You look wonderful."

"Thank you," Sabrina said. Douglas was stunning in his usual black and white; his blue eyes accentuated by the fact that his hair was tied back. Catching sight of his eyes, Sabrina noted a tightness that hadn't been there before. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine," Douglas assured her. Taking her hand, he slipped her arm in his and escorted her across the room.

Sabrina looked up from under lower lids; Douglas was scanning the room and she saw the slight narrowing of his gaze as he passed over her sister and brother. "What did he say?"

Douglas shouldn't have been surprised; Sabrina was observant and she had quickly learned to gauge his moods. "Let's just say that your brother and I see eye to eye on very little."

"You didn't try and talk politics with him, did you?" Sabrina groaned. "I should have warned you, Jeremy is many things but open-minded is not one of them." 

Sabrina allowed Douglas to escort her around the room. They made small talk with her mother and father, chatted easily with her younger sister Lily and enjoyed an animated conversation with her best friend Ellie. In between, Sabrina continued to fill Douglas in on the eccentricities that were her family.

Overall the evening went well. Douglas noted that, like her mother, Sabrina made a marvelous hostess directing conversation and smoothing over any awkward moments effortlessly.

Sabrina walked Douglas to the door, grateful when the footmen slipped quietly from their posts leaving them alone in the foyer. "I'm not sure whether to apologize for my family or thank you for bearing with them," she said.

Douglas noted the wryly smile on her face and acknowledged the humor in the situation. "No worries, it was exactly what I was expecting. Besides," he said, his smile just as mocking as hers, "I believe that they find me to be a particular oddity as well." 

Sabrina was surprised when Douglas suddenly turned serious. "Sabrina, if it wasn't already, tonight had to make it clear how different our backgrounds are. I will never be the kind of man that your father or brother are. No matter where I go I will continue to make people uncomfortable. I can't offer you a comfortable life within the ton." Taking a deep breath he continued, "if you wish, I will release you from the marriage contract. I know that you did not wish to marry..."

"Oh for the love of..." Sabrina interrupted, a slight tone of exasperation tinting her words. "I know that things aren't always going to be easy. If it wasn't your past that we had to deal with it would be something else." 

Looking up into his face, Sabrina could see that he was sincere in his concern. "I appreciate the concern but I made my choice knowing full well what I'd be getting myself into."

Douglas took a deep breath as his heart once against started beating. He hadn't intended to make the offer, hadn't thought the words through before uttering them and wasn't sure he would have been able to honor them had she accepted. "I just want to make sure that you understand that this is just the first of many nights like this. There will be other dinner parties, other events in which I, we, are judged by my past."

"I know," Sabrina said softly, "but the fault for that is not yours. You should not bear the burden of your parents' choices."

"The day may come when you will resent..."

"No," Sabrina said simply. "I have my own past to contend with. You do not judge me for it, I will not judge you."

Douglas stared down at her and saw the truth in her eyes. Once again he marveled at his fortune at having found this woman. Of course, with the wonder came fear. What would he do when the time came to tell her the truth? He still had no answer, no idea of how or when to tell her. He could only hope that when the time was right he would know. Until then he would continue to hold her to him and hope that she would be able to forgive him. "Very well," he said, "until tomorrow."

Sabrina heard the promise and nodded. She wouldn't see him again until it was time to exchange vows. By this time tomorrow they would be husband and wife. "Until tomorrow," she said and watched as he slipped out the door and disappeared into the night. 

The next morning Douglas stood waiting in a small room off of the main chapel. From the looks of well-worn carpet many a bridegroom had stood here before him waiting to meet their brides. 

He waited alone; if he had been anyone else he might have waited with a brother or a friend, certainly a father. But he was Douglas Radcliff; his half brother was dead and he had very few friends.

He would admit, if only to himself, that he was a little morose at being left to wait alone. Of course, the prize he waited for more then made up for it. Lost in thought, it was a moment before he realized that there had been a knock at the door. "Enter."

"Douglas?" a soft, feminine voice called.

"Aunt Mae?" Douglas watched in surprise as his aunt poked her head into the room.

"May we come in?" Mae didn't bother waiting for an answer; hurrying across the room she wrapped her arms around Douglas and gave him a fierce hug. "Don't be mad," she whispered.

"Mad?" Douglas asked, confused.

"Hello, son." The current Duke of Spiegel stopped just inside the room watching as his sister embraced his only living child. 

Douglas felt himself stiffen at the sound of his father's voice and the sight of him following Mae into the room. "Your Grace," Douglas gave his father a short bow. His arm still resting lightly on Mae's shoulders, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

Mae frowned, "You didn't think we would miss your wedding?"




English Rose Ch. 03



"No, but..." Douglas stammered and felt himself flush.

"He didn't invite us," the Duke said.

Mae frowned, "Of course we were invited, I received the invitation myself." Mae was a petite woman with gray hair and green eyes. She'd been married and widowed before she was twenty and never remarried. Once upon a time she'd told Douglas that there was only one man for her and he'd already passed through her life. 

"The invitation came from his betrothed, am I correct?" Charles asked, addressing his son.

Douglas faced his father; it never ceased to amaze him how much of himself he saw in his father's face. The Duke was tall, as broad across the shoulders as Douglas despite his age and his hair still just as black with only hints of gray. The older man had aged well, the only outward sign of his illness the cane that even now he leaned heavily on.

Douglas indicated a set of chairs, "Would you care to sit?"

The Duke gave a slight nod and walked carefully over to the chair. "Thank you."

Douglas stood addressing his father, "If Sabrina sent an invitation it was without my knowledge but not against my wishes. I assumed that you would be unable to travel the distance necessary in such a short time."

"Douglas," Mae said quietly and without reproach, "we moved back to London as soon as we heard the news of your engagement. We both wanted to be here." Mae rested her hand on her brother's shoulder. She understood how hard it was for Charles to open up to his son.

"I see," Douglas said though in truth he didn't. 

Charles cleared his throat, "I hope you'll forgive my forwardness but I would like to offer my services today and stand up with you."

Surprised, Douglas blurted, "Why?"

"Douglas!" Mae scolded.

"It's okay Mae, the boy has a right to ask." Charles considered his son. Douglas wasn't the only one that saw the similarities; it had always amazed him that Douglas could look so much like him and his mother at the same time. The thought of Douglas' mother brought with it a pang of regret. There was much he had to say but today was not the time to uncover old hurts. "I would like to stand up with my son before God and all those that are gathered and celebrate his marriage."

Douglas nodded. "I should send a note to Sabrina letting her know of the change."

"No need, I already spoke with your betrothed and made my request to her as well." Charles used his cane to help himself out of the chair.

"You spoke with Sabrina?" Douglas asked.

"I did." Charles said, no apology evident in his voice. "I had a gift for the young lady and wanted to thank her personally for the invitation."

Mae beamed up at Douglas. "She is a charming young lady."

"Yes, she is," Douglas said. He was feeling slightly discomforted by the turn of events. Unfortunately, the priest chose that moment to announce the start of the ceremony leaving Douglas little time to settle his head. "Well, shall we go?"

Mae watched as father and son slipped into the church from a side door before finding a seat. This moment had been years in the making - she was just glad that Charles had lived long enough to see it.

Sabrina stood just outside the chapel doors waiting for her cue to enter. Around her throat she wore the emerald and diamond necklace that had been a gift from Douglas' father as well as the matching earrings. She could only hope that he would forgive her for having issued the invitation. It was after their conversation that she had learned the Duke and his sister were in London; as soon as she had she'd sent a note along with a personal invitation to the wedding.

A moment later and Sabrina put all thoughts of Douglas' father aside as the doors to the chapel opened and the wedding march started to play. Taking a deep breath, Sabrina took her first step towards her future.

The ceremony went off without a hitch and the reception that followed was a resounding crush. Sabrina was well aware of the fact that both her mother and father had called in a number of favors to see both events were a success. There had been one moment of startled silence as Douglas stepped forward with his father but just then the music swelled announcing the arrival of the bride and the moment passed.

The reception was held at the Duke of St. Ives' townhouse. Sabrina and Douglas rode back together while the rest of the family and guests followed. The line of carriages went on for miles, some guests waiting upwards of an hour to disembark. 

Sabrina and Douglas met the guests as they entered accepting well-wishes and congratulations. Finally, after an hour, Douglas led Sabrina from the receiving line and out onto the dance floor. Sabrina laughed as he led her into the first turns of the dance. "Douglas, we really should meet the rest of our guests."

"At this rate we'll be there all night. Besides, it's not like they don't know who we are or where to find us." Douglas stared down into Sabrina's upturned face. "I want to dance with my wife."

Sabrina's smile blazed. "I like the sound of that."

They danced the rest of the dance in silence, both of them enjoying their first few moments as husband and wife. It was only as Douglas led her from the dance floor that Sabrina spoke, "Are you angry?"

Douglas caught sight of his father; the Duke was sitting off to one side, a number of lords and ladies fluttering around him. "That you invited them? No, but why didn't you tell me?"

Sabrina bit her lip, "I was afraid that they wouldn't come. I thought that if they refused the invitation then you need never know that I sent the note in the first place."

Douglas nodded. "Is that the gift?" he asked, indicating the necklace and matching earrings.

Sabrina reached up and touched the large pendant. "Yes, it's beautiful. He wouldn't allow me to refuse."

Douglas chuckled. "My father has never been one to take no for an answer. Besides, he told me that he had it made for you."

"He did?" Sabrina was surprised. 

Douglas nodded, "He thought the emeralds a perfect match to your eyes."

"I had no idea," Sabrina said.

"How long have you known him?" If Douglas found it odd to ask after his wife's relationship with his own father he gave no indication.

Sabrina considered. "I don't know exactly; I was very young when we first met, still in pigtails I suppose."

"You've know him longer then I have," Douglas said and wondered at the lack of resentment. Perhaps it was seeing his father today; if ever there was a time in his life that Douglas was grateful for his father it was today. The Duke's appearance had gone further with the ton then legitimizing him ever could. His appearance was a personal acceptance of Douglas - the rest were just legalities. 

"Oh Douglas, I'm sorry." Sabrina wondered at the wisdom in having invited the Duke.

"Don't be," Douglas said. "It is what it is."

Not long after, the Duke of Spiegel approached the newlyweds and bade them farewell. Offering his son his hand, he said, "It was a pleasure and an honor to be by your side today. Thank you."

Douglas shook his father's hand. "Thank you for coming. Will you be staying in London?"

"No," Charles shook his head. "Mae and I will return to Arlington Park. Perhaps you and your new bride would care to join us for part of the summer?"

It was an unexpected invitation; one that Douglas wasn't prepared for. "I...we..."

"We'd love to," Sabrina said, stepping in and giving the Duke a quick hug. "I'm so glad you were able to attend, both of you," she said, turning to hug Mae.

Douglas and Sabrina watched as the Duke and his sister stepped up into their carriage. Not long after, it was time for them to leave as well. While the reception would continue, Douglas and Sabrina had plans to spend their wedding night at his townhouse.

They rode home in silence; Douglas longed to reach out and touch her but kept his hands to himself. Tonight would be one of many firsts; their first night as man and wife, the first night in their home, the first night in their bed. He didn't want to start it off with a quick tumble in a carriage.

Sabrina seemed to understand and was content to wait. She was excited about once again stepping into Douglas' townhouse, this time as its newest occupant. She was also nervous about their wedding night. Her fears were obviously not those of an untried maiden. She and Douglas had shared a number of intimate moments in the days leading up to their wedding. However, this would be the first time the two of them came together as man and wife and the night held all the promise of the rest of their lives.

The carriage came to a smooth stop; Douglas stepped down before turning to offer Sabrina his hand. "Welcome home, wife."

Sabrina smiled. Stepping down, she looked up and caught sight of her new home. She'd visited more then once over the course of the past two weeks but this was her first homecoming. Earlier in the day she'd watched as several of her trunks were packed up and moved out of her father's townhouse to be delivered to her new home. Even her maid had been sent over to help her get settled. Tilly was actually in her father's employ but Sabrina planned to offer her the choice of permanently following her or staying with the St. Ives household.

In honor of their wedding, Douglas had given most of the staff the night off. Only an essential few remained to assist them through this first night. The rest of the staff would return tomorrow when Sabrina would officially be introduced. Until then, the house and the night was theirs.

Sabrina had just stepped down from the carriage when Douglas scooped her off her feet. "Douglas!"

"I do believe it's tradition," he said and carried her over the threshold. 

Sabrina laughed as Douglas continued through the foyer and up the stairs. She had never been above stairs and was eager to see the rest of the house. Douglas didn't stop as they reached the top of the stairs, turning to look behind her, Sabrina asked, "What's down there?"

"Those are the guest quarters," Douglas said heading towards the master suites.

"And upstairs?" she asked seeing that the stairs continued.

"The nursery."

"Oh," Sabrina said, feeling a slight thrill at the thought.

"The servants' quarters are on the lower level along with the kitchen; I promise a tour of the entire house tomorrow. For now," Douglas said, setting Sabrina on her feet, "these will be your rooms."

Sabrina stepped forward as Douglas opened the door. "Oh, Douglas." Turning, she tried to take it all in. The bedroom was large with a sitting room to her left and a dressing room complete with its own bathtub to her right. 

A large, four-poster bed that was wide enough to sleep six dominated the room. On either side of the bed were matching tables, each holding its own candelabra. The sitting room centered around a invitingly deep chaise lounge and a writing table. Sabrina ran her hand over the tabletop noting that there was already a full set of stationary.

"I thought you might like a private place for reading and penning notes," Douglas said. He watched, pleased by her response as she inspected the room. "You are always welcome in the library of course but I tend to do a fair amount of business in there and there may be times when either of us requires a moment of privacy."

"It's beautiful," Sabrina said. She was touched that he had remembered her love of books. Already there was a well stocked bookcase lining one wall of the sitting room. She had no doubt that he'd gone to great lengths to populate it with her favorite topics and authors.

"These rooms adjoin mine," he indicated a narrow door on the other side of the dressing room. "They've been closed up since I bought the place; I had them opened, cleaned and redone but had to guess at the colors and patterns given that there wasn't time to consult you. Feel free to change anything that doesn't please you," Douglas said. 

"I wouldn't change a thing," Sabrina said and crossed the room. Standing on tiptoe, Sabrina pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Thank you."

Douglas caught her by the waist before she could drop back down onto her heels. Pulling her more firmly against him, he covered her mouth with his and claimed her in a kiss.

Sabrina wrapped her arms around Douglas' neck pressing her breasts to his chest and met him as his tongue swept past her parted lips. She fed all her pent up desire into that kiss letting him know how much she wanted him.

Douglas feasted on Sabrina's mouth, taking and tasting all of her. His desire raged, his cock pressing hard against his breeches, but for now he was content to explore the contours of her mouth. He bit at her lower lip and then licked the sting away before gently sucking on her tongue. Her taste filled his mouth, reminding him that they still had a long way to go before the night was over.

Slowly, Douglas broke the kiss, setting Sabrina back onto her feet. "Your maid," Douglas stopped at the rough edge of his voice and cleared his throat. "Your maid arrived earlier and saw to your unpacking. I hope you don't mind but I gave her the night off with instructions to set out everything you might need for the evening."

Sabrina stared up into Douglas' blue eyes and felt herself shiver at the desire she saw mirrored there. "I don't mind," she said. "But I'll need help with my dress."

Douglas hadn't considered that possibility but one look at the back of Sabrina's wedding dress as she turned for him was enough. "Of course," he said and went to work on the long row of buttons. Barely half way through and already his fingers had grown tired. "Damn! How many buttons does this thing have?"

Sabrina stiffed at the sudden sense of déjà vu and gripped the front of her dress tight against her chest. So focused was she on clearing her head that she missed Douglas' slight hesitation. Douglas, silently cursing himself, went back to work on her buttons. 

A moment later Sabrina called a halt. "I think I can handle the rest."

Douglas dropped his hands to his side. Noting that she didn't turn to face him, Douglas continued as if nothing had happened. "I'll leave you then to get ready; take your time and when you're ready simply crack the door between our rooms and I'll join you."

Sabrina nodded but didn't turn as Douglas slipped from her room. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and forced it out slowly. She had long since grown comfortable with Douglas and the passion between them was mutual. She was more anxious then scared about their wedding night but that brief glimpse into her past and thrown her, if only for a moment and she needed another one to collect herself.

Letting her wedding dress slip from her shoulders and onto the floor, Sabrina stepped out of it before carefully setting it aside. Next she untied her underskirts, slipped out of her chemise and rolled down her stockings. The last to go was her corset; while it laced up the back for easier tightening a row of clasps held the front closed, allowing her to get out of it without help.

Naked, she walked into the dressing room, noting that Douglas had closed the door to his rooms behind him. It was growing late and a bath would take time. Instead, she settled for a sponge bath, grateful to the servants that had thought enough to leave her a pitcher of warm wash water. 

The dressing room was large; filled with beautiful pieces of furniture and Sabrina had no shortage of storage. Opening a set of doors she found the armoire filled with her day gowns. Another held her formal evening wear and a third housed her riding habits. There were storage boxes for her hats, drawers for her gloves and a vanity table that held her jewels and face paint. 

A clothing valet stood next to the vanity table, her nightgown draped over the side. Just seeing it again caused Sabrina to blush slightly. She remembered her last fitting with Madam Lisette during which she'd quietly pulled the modiste aside and asked about ordering a number of new night rails. 

Not sure how to describe what she was looking for, Madam Lisette seemed to understand that Sabrina wanted something more then simple cotton. Madam Lisette had pulled out a number of fabrics and fashion plates normally reserved for her more mature clientele.

Fingering the fabric, Sabrina wondered at the wisdom of having ordered such a mature article of clothing and could only hope that Douglas approved. Sliding it over her head, Sabrina shivered as the material fell to swirl around her legs, the sensation a total caress of her skin. Taking a deep breath, Sabrina opened the door to Douglas' rooms before quickly retreating to her own.

Douglas turned at the sound of the door opening; he half wondered if Sabrina would venture into his suite of rooms. She was curious and adventurous by nature and it wouldn't have surprised him. Looking to his bed, he had a strong desire to make love to her there, to see her in his bed and to smell her on his sheets. Next time, he thought and went to let himself into her rooms.

Douglas felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of her. Sabrina stood at the end of her bed, one arm wrapped lightly around the bed post; her hair was still piled on top of her head leaving her neck bare, but what caused him to catch his breath was the night rail she wore. 

At first it appeared simple, almost plain but only until she moved. Douglas watched in absolute fascination as she stepped forward causing the material to shift and shimmer. He would have sworn that it rippled across her body accentuating her full breasts, slender waist and flared hips. 

Sabrina enjoyed a sense of feminine satisfaction watching Douglas as he stared at her. Taking hold of that feeling, Sabrina sauntered across the room letting her hips roll and sway in a rhythm that encouraged Douglas to look. 

She didn't stop until they stood nearly toe to toe, the close proximity forcing her head back in order to look him in the eye. "Do you like it?" she asked, her voice soft and husky.

"Oh, yes." Douglas said. Raising his hands, he wrapped his fingers around either side of her waist, his thumbs rubbing back and forth in that space on the inside of her hip bone.

"It comes in black," Sabrina said, the one she was wearing was a dark burgundy.

Douglas felt his eyes nearly cross at the thought. "Did you happen to purchase it in black?" If not, he would be ordering it first thing in the morning.

Sabrina nodded. "Several others as well."

"Several?" Douglas asked.

Again, Sabrina nodded, her eyes going a little bit wide as Douglas' grip on her hips grew tighter. "Would you like to see them?" she asked helpfully.

"No," Douglas said and then cleared his throat. "Rather, I would but not now. I prefer you surprise me with a different one each night until we work our way through them all."

Sabrina felt heat gather and curl in the pit of her stomach at the promise of nights still to come. "Alright," she said and waited.

They stood and stared at each other, neither one of them moving. Sabrina waited for Douglas; Douglas waited for his mind to clear. Finally, unable to wait any longer, Sabrina reached up and pulled the pins from her hair. 

Douglas watched as her hair tumbled down her back and settled around her waist. The movement broke the spell, snapped the leash on what little control he had. Grabbing her by the waist, Douglas pulled Sabrina to him, his mouth crashing down on hers as she reached up to meet him.

The kiss held all the heat of the past two weeks; desire ignited between them as tongue and teeth met in an unrestrained surge of passion. Reaching up, Douglas wrapped his hands in Sabrina's hair pulling her head back at the same time walking her backwards towards the bed. 

Sabrina met his desire with a need of her own. Her hands moved from where they'd been gripping his forearms to his shoulders and back down his chest. She gave a small whimper at finding his robe already partially open, the smooth skin of his chest exposed to her touch. Breaking the kiss, she said, "I want to look at you."




English Rose Ch. 03



Douglas, very nearly panting, struggled with the interruption. Looking down into her face, he could see she was serious and something he saw there encouraged him to accommodate her.

Taking half a step back, Douglas untied his robe and let it fall to the floor. He hadn't bothered with a nightshirt but had settled on a pair of lightweight lounge pants. Before he could reach for her Sabrina stepped forward and ran her hands across his chest. She took her time, letting her fingertips explore the sensitive ridges between his ribs before circling his naval and grazing the flat of his stomach.

Douglas stood, his hands fisted at his sides, letting her explore. It was only as she reached for the drawstring of his pants that he reached out and stopped her. "Not yet," he said.

"But I want to see you, all of you," she said. For a moment she thought he might refuse but in the end he gave a slight nod of his head and released her wrist. Slowly, she reached out and tugged the ends of the tie free, watching as the material settled lower on his hips. Running her fingertips along the line of the waistband, Sabrina followed it to his hips before slowly pushing it towards the floor. 

Sabrina caught her first sight of Douglas as he stepped out of his pants, leaving them on the floor. He was glorious with broad shoulders, a narrow waist and long, muscular legs. His chest was smooth, almost hairless except for a small patch that circled his naval before trailing down to his public region. There the hair grew thick and black, in the center of which stood his cock.

She let her eyes wander over him, her hands following as she continued to explore, drinking in the sight of him. It was the first time Douglas had stood naked before her and she wanted to commit the image to memory.

Douglas let her look, let her touch for as long as he could. Her touch was light and still showed her inexperience for which he was grateful. He didn't think he could stand it if she touched him in a way designed to arouse. 

Letting her continue, Douglas reached out and traced the neckline of Sabrina's nightgown. The deep v-cut followed the curve of both breasts before coming to an end deep in the valley of her cleavage. Drawing his fingers down one side and up the other, Douglas reached her shoulders edging the fabric off her shoulders and down her arms. He watched in fascination as the material seemed to fall unnaturally slow, catching for just a moment on the tips of her breasts before finally falling to the floor.

Sabrina held her breath as Douglas drank her in; his eyes were dark pools of desire as he reached for her. She couldn't stop the small sigh of pleasure as he cupped both of her breasts in his hands, palming them gently. A moment later her soft sigh turned to a deep moan as Douglas dropped to his knees and took one nipple into his mouth.

Douglas felt Sabrina arch up against him thrusting her breast more firmly against his mouth. A moment later he felt her hand in his hair pressing him forward. He couldn't stop himself from wrapping his arms around her waist or from sucking her nipple more firmly into his mouth.

Sabrina cried out as Douglas suckled and pulled at her nipple with his mouth, her body shuddering at the sensation. She could feel herself growing wet, the moisture leaking out to coat the inside of her thighs. "Douglas, please."

Douglas ignored her pleas as he released one nipple and exchanged it for the other. He loved the feel of her growing hard in his mouth, her tender nipples swelling as he sucked, her desperate moans and pleas urging him on until he lost himself and bit down.

Sabrina hissed at the sharp pain at the same time feeling her body shatter in its first release of the night. Surrendering to the sensation, she held on as her body rocked through waves of pleasure.

Douglas held her and licked gently at where he'd bitten her. He hadn't meant to push her so hard but something in him had answered an unspoken demand from her body. Shifting his hold on her waist, Douglas rose back to his feet picking Sabrina up in the process. Carefully, he laid her on the bed, stretching out beside her.

Sabrina turned in his arms. Her body was warm, infused with pleasure but need and desire hummed just beneath the surface of her skin. Gently, she pushed Douglas onto his back and set to exploring his chest with her mouth, using tongue and teeth to taste. Coming to his nipple, she wondered what his response would be if she suckled him the way he had her.

Douglas sucked in a deep breath and held it at the feel of Sabrina circling his nipple with her tongue. "Oh, god," he moaned as she pulled him into her mouth. Her mouth was hot, wet and drew him in deep. Each pull on his nipple caused his cock to twitch and surge, his hips rising up off the bed as he thrust up into the air. Just when he thought he couldn't stand it any more she moved on to circle his naval with her tongue.

Sabrina traced the line of hair around Douglas' bellybutton feeling him tense beneath her. "Douglas?" she asked.

"Hmmm?" Douglas was well aware of Sabrina's proximity to his cock.

"Before, back in the carriage, you kissed me...down there." Sabrina could feel herself flush at the memory, her body heating and growing wet. Already she felt swollen and tender, eager for Douglas but there was something she'd been wondering about.

"Would you like me to do that again?" Douglas asked, more then willing to oblige.

"No, well, yes but..." Sabrina hesitated, "I was wondering, is it possible for me to do something like that for you?"

Douglas thought he might expire on the spot. With Sabrina already so close to his cock it was easy to picture her leaning over and taking him into her mouth. Still, it wasn't something he'd thought to ask of her - not on their wedding night.

"Douglas?"

"Well," he said slowly. "The mechanics of it are a bit different but yes, you can use your mouth to give me pleasure."

"Would you mind if I tried?" she asked.

Douglas swallowed, hard. "If you'd like."

Sabrina slid lower until she came almost eye to eye with Douglas' hip. She didn't immediately reach for his cock, instead she trailed the tips of her fingers up the inside of his thigh smiling as the muscles jumped and twitched. At the same time, she leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to the tender skin on the inside of his hipbone. Hearing his sigh above her, Sabrina parted her lips and licked the same spot before slowly moving towards her goal.

Douglas felt his tension rise the closer she got to his cock. Fisting the sheets beneath him he stared up at the ceiling above his head. He wanted to look down the length of his body, wanted to watch as he disappeared into her mouth but feared losing control. He gave a jolt as she shifted, moving to setttle between his thighs, her breasts pressing against his legs. 

Sabrina settled between Douglas' spread thighs. They'd made love once before, quick and desperate in the carriage, and just the other night she'd enjoy giving him some relief however this was the first time she'd been able to explore him in all his glory. 

His cock stood hard and tall in front of her; jutting up from a nest of thick, black hair she watched as he pulsed slightly. She knew that she wanted to taste him, to sample the essence of him the same as he had done with her.

Leaning forward, Sabrina licked at the swollen head of his cock, thrilled when he moaned and bucked beneath her. Without hesitating, she licked up his length of him, swirled her tongue around the head of his cock and the finally sucked him more fully into her mouth.

"Sabrina," Douglas moaned her name as he felt himself enveloped in the heat of her mouth. It took every ounce of control he had not to come as she continued to work him in and out of her mouth. His only saving grace was that he was too big for her to take him all. 

Sabrina felt Douglas shudder beneath her and his hips thrust upward. Realizing that he searched for a rhythm, Sabrina worked to match the thrusts of his hips, her mouth sliding down on his cock as he thrust up. It didn't take long before she was bobbing up and down on his cock, gaining another few centimeters every couple of thrusts until he was hitting the back of her throat.

Douglas opened his eyes and watched as he slid in and out of his wife's mouth. He was amazed to see more then half of his cock disappearing between her red, swollen lips. A few more thrusts and he knew he was close; reluctantly, he reached down and grabbed Sabrina by her upper arms, pulling her off his cock. "Another time I'll let you finish me off that way but not tonight," he growled, rolling her onto her back.

Sabrina nodded, a shiver of awareness racing up her spine at the look in his eyes, and licked her lips. She had been able to taste him, even without having brought him to completion.

Douglas felt his control slipping as she licked her lips and spread her legs to accommodate him. He had meant to take things slow but in that moment the only thing he could think to do was satiate himself with her body. Bracing himself on one hand, he grabbed his cock and guided it to her entrance. Relieved at finding her wet, he rubbed the head of his cock up and down the length of her slit, once, twice before finding her entrance and thrusting forward.

Sabrina's back arched, her hips automatically rising off the bed to meet Douglas as he filled her for the first time as her husband.

Douglas didn't stop, couldn't stop with that first thrust. Immediately, he withdrew to her entrance and thrust home again and again. It was hard and fast, his body filling her as she surrounded him with her heat. She was wet but tight, her body pulling at him as he moved within her.

Reaching up, Sabrina held on as Douglas pounded his way into her body. Already she could feel a familiar tightening low, below her belly, causing her to spread her legs wider and opening herself up to him.

Douglas groaned at the feeling of Sabrina surrendering beneath him and felt his balls grow tight. Instinctively, she shifted her hips allowing for deeper strokes with his cock. Grabbing her behind one knee, Douglas lifted her leg and pressed it to his hip. He could feel her sliding up and down the entire length of him, felt his sac slapping against the lower part of her slit covering him in her juices.

"Oh god, Douglas, don't stop...please don't stop," she begged as her body started to tighten.

"Never," Douglas whispered and watched as she started to shatter beneath him. A moment later he felt his cock gripped in the tight muscles of her contracting pussy and let himself join her. 

Douglas held himself suspended above her as aftershocks of pleasure continued for the span of several heartbeats. It was only as the last waves of pleasure receded that he allowed himself to collapse.

Sabrina lay unmoving beneath him, one hand gently stroking down the length of Douglas' back as she waited for his breathing to return to normal. Her entire body tingled while at the same time feeling languid and satiated.

Realizing that he must be smothering her, Douglas rolled over onto his back. Pulling Sabrina with him, he settled her head on his shoulder and considered his wife. She was drawing lazy circles on his chest and, he would have sworn, purring.

Sabrina hummed quietly to herself; warm and content next to Douglas she watched as the room grew darker. She couldn't remember ever having been happier and wanted the moment to go on forever.

"What are you thinking?" Douglas asked. The room had grown dark but the late spring weather kept it from growing cold. Still, he knew that eventually he would have to get up and light the fire.

Sabrina looked up at Douglas. "I was thinking that I never want this moment to end."

"Are you happy that you married me?" Douglas was surprised at how much her answer mattered to him.

"Yes," Sabrina said and reached up to kiss him softly.

Douglas was tempted to take the kiss deeper but there was something else he wanted to know. "Earlier, you agreed to spend time at Arlington Park, is that something you really want to do?"

Sabrina rolled over so that she could prop her chin on Douglas' chest. "It doesn't matter if I want to or not," she said. "The question is whether or not you want."

Douglas stared up at the ceiling trying to get a grip on his feelings. "Arlington Park is the ducal seat, it's where my father spends most of his time. It's also where his wife and son lived."

Sabrina was quick to catch the implications. "You've never been there, have you?"

"No," Douglas said. "I was never invited."

Sabrina felt her heart ache for the little boy he once was. "Did you always know that he was your father?"

Douglas thought back to those early days with his mother; their life hasn't been a hard one but it hasn't been easy either. He couldn't remember when he first realized what it was his mother did to support them and that his life was different from so many others. 

He didn't fit in with the ton nor did he fit in with the lower or merchant class. For years, he'd been a man without a place; that was until he carved one out for himself. But through it all he'd known who his sire was. 

"At first, when I was young, my mother told me simply that my father was a great lord. I think she tried to weave it into a fantasy hoping that it would comfort the child I was. For years, she avoided telling me his name saying that it was best for all of us if I never knew. I think I was around twelve years old when she finally told me and that was only because she was sick."

"How long were they together?" she asked when he grew quiet.

"A few years," Douglas said. "My mother told me that he came to see her, us, the day after I was born. It was the last time she saw him."

"He left her, left you?" Sabrina had known the Duke for years and still found it hard to imagine.

"Yes," Douglas sighed. "I found out later that he settled a very generous portion on my mother that same day - enough that she need never seek a patron again. It wasn't until she died that I learned that she'd put the entire amount into a trust for me. She had one of her patrons invest it and used the interest to send me to school."

"Tell me about her," Sabrina urged.

Douglas felt the familiar mixture of joy, sadness and anger that surfaced whenever he thought of his mother. Looking down at Sabrina, he was reminded of where those feelings had taken him.

As much as he regretted some of his past decisions he had a hard time regretting the one that had brought them together. "Another time," he said.

Sabrina searched his face; open to her as he was she could see that there were old hurts there that were better left for another night. "Very well," she agreed. "But Douglas, I spoke with your Aunt Mae, if you've ever hoped to spend time with your father you had better do it soon."

Douglas heard the note of warning, "What did Mae tell you?"

"The news is not good," she said softly. "Your father is very ill, most days the pain keeps him in bed. It was through sheer willpower and a very large amount of laudanum that he was able to make it to the wedding."

Douglas nodded. "Then if it's alright with you, I'd like to go to Arlington Park. I know it's not much of a honeymoon..."

"Douglas," Sabrina said, a touch of reproach in her voice. "There will be time enough for that later. This is more important."

"Thank you," Douglas said, pulling her closer.

The next morning Sabrina was officially introduced to the staff. She also confirmed that Tilly wished to remain with her and would be accompanying them to Arlington Park. While Douglas made travel arrangements Sabrina sent a note to her father asking that Tilly be released into her service. Luckily, most of her stuff was still packed and it was a simple matter to send it on ahead. 

It was a two day carriage ride to Arlington Park. They spent the first night on the road at a family run inn. The proprietor and his wife severed them a warm, hearty meal while their youngest daughter readied their room. Sabrina was hard pressed to find fault with either - the food was well prepared and the room clean. As she left, she made sure to press a bit of her pin money into the older woman's hand.

"You didn't have to do that," Douglas said. "I paid the owner quiet well."

"I know," Sabrina said as she mounted her horse. The weather continued to be warm and bright and both of them had decided to ride ahead of the carriage. "But that doesn't mean he'll pass any of it along to his wife or daughter. I thought they should have something for themselves."

Douglas nodded; it was something he never would have thought about. They spent the day passing back and forth between easy conversation and relaxed silence occasionally giving the horses their heads before once again slowing to a walk. At midday they stopped for lunch, enjoying the light picnic prepared by the inn keeper's wife.

Once again on the road, Sabrina noticed that the closer they got to Arlington Park the quieter Douglas became. She left him to his thoughts, realizing that she really had no way of understanding what he was feeling.

Never having been to Arlington Park, Sabrina nevertheless knew where it was located. The Hogins' had an estate nearby and Sabrina had attended their annual summer house party. Familiar with the area, she recognized various landmarks and knew they were close. Finally, she followed Douglas as he turned off the main street and headed down a long, private drive.

The path was narrower then the public lane but wide enough to accommodate a large carriage or two riders sitting abreast. Lined with trees, it was shaded from the afternoon sun offering a cool break from the heat of the day.

Twenty minutes later the trees opened up and Arlington Park stood spread out before them. "It's beautiful," Sabrina said, pulling her mare to a stop next to Douglas.

Douglas sat and stared; Sabrina was right - it was beautiful. The house itself was large, spreading out on both sides from a central entryway. Both the north and the south wings curved forward slightly giving the impression of arms open in welcome. To the north, Douglas could see a path that likely led to the stables while the south side of the house pointed to a large garden and beyond that, the fields. Douglas knew from his solicitor that the grounds held fields for grain, grassland for the grazing animals and a well stocked forest for hunting. 

"Shall we?" Sabrina asked and nudged her mount forward.

Douglas followed, wondering at their reception. He had sent a note on ahead confirming their arrival and offering to delay their visit until a later date. Their reply had been waiting for them at the inn and contained assurances that everything was ready for them and that they were to continue on to Arlington Park. Still, Douglas couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to trespass where he was most unwelcome.

Sabrina smiled and waved as Douglas' Aunt Mae stepped out to greet them. A moment later a couple of stable lads appeared to take their horses and help Sabrina dismount.

"Aunt Mae!" Douglas smiled with genuine warmth and bent to hug is aunt. "How are you?"

"I'm well," Mae said. "We're so glad you decided to come."

Douglas couldn't keep from looking behind his aunt expectantly.

"Your father would have come down himself but...well..." Mae hesitated. "Today isn't one of his better days and he remains in bed. He is awake, however, and asked that you visit him as soon as you're settled."

Douglas nodded. Take Sabrina's arm, he followed Mae into the house. "Are you sure our timing for a visit was well advised? I do not want to disturb him."

Mae led them into the sitting room where a service of tea and cakes had already been laid out. "Please, sit," she said and started to pour. "I'm sure Sabrina already told you, your father is very ill and the chances of recovery are...slim, at best."




English Rose Ch. 03



Taking her seat, Mae considered her nephew over the rim of her cup. "I've spoken with the doctors at length and the consensus is that he'll be lucky to make it through the winter."

Douglas swallowed against a bitter taste in his mouth that had little to do with the tea. Sabrina noted the sideboard across the room and gestured, "Do you mind?" she asked Mae.

"Of course not," Mae said, watching as Sabrina went to pour a shot of brandy and handed it to Douglas.

Douglas nodded his thanks and tossed back the brandy. "May I see him?"

"Of course," Mae said and rang for a footman.

"I'll stay with Mae," Sabrina said, knowing that Douglas would want to meet with his father alone. Douglas nodded and followed the footman up to his father's suite of rooms. 

The Duke's rooms were on the west side of the house and faced south allowing for afternoon sun. Douglas was surprised as he entered by the light, airy feel to the room. It was nothing like the sick room he had bee expecting.

The suite, more a large apartment of rooms, housed a bedchamber, dressing room, separate water closet, sitting room and a small study. Several of the rooms had their own fireplace, two of which were lit despite the warm spring day.

"Hello son," the Duke called having heard Douglas enter, "in here."

Douglas followed the sound of his father's voice and found him in the study. Catching sight of him, Douglas was surprised at the difference is his father's appearance. Sitting in a chair in front of the fire, the Duke appeared small, almost lost in the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Also gone was the healthy golden tone of his skin, in its' place a paleness that only illness could create. 

"Hello...father," Douglas said, stumbling slightly over the title.

"Please, sit." Charles indicated the chair beside him and watched as Douglas took a seat. "How was your trip?"

"Very nice, actually." Douglas said. "The weather held out and Sabrina makes a pleasant traveling companion."

Charles smiled. "I bet, Lady Mont...forgive me, Lady Radcliff is a very charming young lady."

"Indeed," Douglas said, feeling awkward. "We were both pleased by the invitation to join you for part of the summer."

"I hope you'll consider staying on longer then that. I don't know what your plans were for the summer. I suspect you had a honeymoon in mind and perhaps some time at your own estates before returning to London." Charles was hoping that Douglas and Sabrina would stay through the holidays; he very much wanted to get to know his son.

"We hadn't really decided yet; there was very little time between settling the contracts and preparing for the wedding." Douglas wasn't ready to commit to staying past a few weeks, not until he understood what it was his father was hoping to achieve. "For myself, I have business in London year round which will require my attention."

"Of course," Charles said, not bothering to hide his disappointment. "You are welcome to make full use of the library downstairs, I know how much you enjoy reading, and I have my own space up here." 

Charles missed his son's startled expression as he continued. "I have several men on staff that can act as messengers should you need to send word to London and you're welcome to have your steward join you here. Of course," Charles said, not wanting to pressure Douglas, "I will understand if you need to return to London. There are some things a man must see to himself."

"Thank you," Douglas said. "That is a very generous offer. I will speak with Sabrina this evening and see what she has planned and let you know."

A slightly awkward silence followed, thankfully broken by a discreet knock on the door. "Enter!" Charles called. "Ah, excellent, just set it down over here," Charles said, indicating the small table separating him and Douglas. "I suspect that Mae offered you tea upon your arrival. I thought perhaps you might prefer something a bit stronger."

Douglas watched as his father poured them each a generous measure of brandy, noting the slight shake to his father's hand but refraining from offering to help. "Thank you," he said accepting his glass. "So, how have you been?"

Charles took a long pull on his brandy before answering. "I've been better, I've been worse," he said, shrugging. "They suspect everything from bad humors to cancer of the stomach," Charles gave a disgusted snort. "Not that it matters, whatever it is they can't cure it and I've learned to manage the pain."

"I'm sorry," Douglas said softly and realized that he meant it. He had harbored resentment towards his father for years but none of it mattered in the moment.

"Don't be," Charles said. "My only regrets in life are those that I have regarding you and your mother."

Douglas looked away, unsure if he was ready to hear this.

Charles continued. "I loved my wife," he said. "But I loved your mother more."

Douglas' head whipped around. "Then why did you abandon her?"

Charles didn't flinch from the anger he saw in his son's eyes. "I was already married when I met your mother. She arrived in London in disgrace, disowned by her family and looking for a protector. She was so beautiful," he said, remembering back to those first few days. "She was sweet, like a breath of fresh air compared to the other ladies of the ton. It didn't take long for her to find a protector. I wasn't her first patron," he said. "I wanted her but I was married barely a year and believed in my commitment."

"Her first patron was kind, he helped to get her set up and she learned how to move on the edges of society." Charles considered the last of his brandy. "I could tell that it pained her, that there was a part of herself that was dying inside and it pulled at me. Finally, I approached her and asked if she would consider spending an evening with me. Not in the way it sounds but a night at the theater and a late supper." Charles smiled a bit wistfully, "I guess you could say I started courting her."

"But you were already married?" Douglas asked.

"Yes, and your mother was well aware of that," Charles said. "We talked in the beginning about what it was that I could offer her."

"How was it any different from any other patron she may have found?" Douglas remembered them all. There hadn't been many, his mother was careful in her choices and discreet in her affairs.

"I gave her love which was the one thing she wanted most." Charles said. "Your mother was a smart woman, she knew that she had made a mistake and that a respectable marriage was beyond her. Surprisingly, I don't think that mattered to her. But what she wanted most was to be loved, to share her life with someone that cared for her."

"And you loved her?" Douglas asked.

"I still do," Charles said.

"Then I'll ask again, why did you leave?" Douglas bit out.

"Not because I wanted to," Charles said and then asked a question of his own. "Did you know that you were born one day before your brother David?"

Douglas blinked in surprise. "No, I assumed he was older then I by a few years."

"No," Charles said, not bothering to try and hide the note of sadness at thoughts of his deceased son. "I tell you this because it is directly related to why I stopped seeing your mother - and you."

At Douglas' nod, Charles poured them both another brandy. "Your mother and I were thrilled when we found out she was pregnant. It's not usual for a man to keep two families and while we knew it wouldn't be easy we both thought of you as a gift. Martha, my wife, was also pregnant at the time but due to deliver a month before your mother. I was naive in thinking that you and David being born in the right order would solve everything but in the end it didn't matter. Your mother delivered early and David arrived a day later."

"Still," Douglas interrupted, "you and my mother weren't married so there was no issue with the line of succession."

"No, but you were, in truth, my first born son," Charles said with a hint of pride. "And while I always loved David he was more his mother's son while you...well, one look at you and there was no question who your father was."

"Martha knew, in that way all women do, about your mother and about you. She never spoke of it," Charles said. "That wasn't her way but I knew her well enough to know that she was concerned."

"Your mother also knew and so when I came to see you that first day she told me ever so gently to kiss you goodbye and to go home to my wife and son." Charles swallowed past the lump in his throat. "That was the hardest day of life."

Douglas' head was spinning; everything he'd thought he knew about his father and his relationship with his mother was turned upside down.

"Nothing I said could convince your mother to change her mind," Charles smiled in fond memory. "She could be stubborn when she wanted to be and very determined." Charles indicated his desk. "If you would be so kind, in the right hand drawer is a small wooden box, would you bring that here?"

Douglas went to his father's desk, noting the mess of papers spread across the surface and opened the drawer. Inside sat a worn wooden box, its surface smooth with age and handling. 

Charles reached out and took the box from Douglas. Setting it in his lap, he ran his hand across the top before opening it to reveal a stack of letters.

Douglas inhaled sharply as the familiar scent of his mother floated into the room.

"I made her promise, swear on your life that she would write me and respond to any inquiry I made regarding you." Gently, he took out the letters, slipping them from the ribbon binding them together. "She kept her word, writing me of you accomplishment, telling me about you as you grew and changed. Her last letter came right before she died; she asked me to watch over you and thanked me for giving her such a wonderful son." Charles reached out and handed the box, with all its letters, back to Douglas. "She also sent back all the letters I'd ever written and asked that if the time ever came that I give them to you."

"I..." Douglas cleared his throat. "Thank you, I'll take care with them and return them."

"They're yours now," Charles said. "I won't be needing them much longer."

Douglas felt a pain in his chest and realized for the first time the grief he was in store for. Grateful at the chance to finally know his father, he realized that he had found him only to loose him again in a few months time. 

Charles reached out and grabbed Douglas' hand with surprising strength. "It's important that you know that I always thought of you as my son, always considered myself your father and that you were never far from my thoughts. I kept my distance out of respect for your mother and the sake of Martha and David."

Douglas nodded. "Did they, your wife and David, did they know who I was?"

Charles gave Douglas' hand a quick squeeze before releasing him. "Martha and I never spoke of it but I suspect that she knew. As for David," Charles paused. "He confronted me once, demanded to know the truth. Apparently, he caught a glimpse of you at one of your clubs. He said at first he thought it was me and to imagine his surprise at walking up to you only to find a younger version of his father and not a glimmer of recognition."

Douglas tried to remember the incident but couldn't place it. "I don't remember." He had very carefully voided ever running into his half brother.

"I wouldn't expect you to. David realized his mistaken and the implications quickly enough and made a quick exit." Charles rested his head back against the chair. "He was understandably angry. Like I said, he was very close with his mother. I dare say it strained our relationship further until his mother found a way to breech the distance. It's one of the reasons I suspect she knew. I'm sure she said something to him, helped him to understand and told him that the affair had ended with his birth."

Douglas was surprised at the absence of anger at hearing of his brother's response to his existence. He had never known the man and couldn't honestly say that he would have reacted any different had their roles been reversed.

Catching his father with his eyes closed, Douglas said, "You're tired, I should let you rest."

Charles opened his eyes. "You'll stay for a while then? Here, at

Arlington Park?"

"Yes," Douglas said. "I'll stay as long as you like."

Satisfied, Charles nodded and closed his eyes. "Good."

Douglas let himself out, relieved to see his father's valet waiting. With a nod, he went to find his wife.

He found Sabrina alone in the garden. Sitting on the edge of a large fountain she appeared to be feeding the fish. He paused, watching for a moment and letting the myriad of emotions visiting with his father had created slip away. She was his light, the one thing in his life that made sense and even with her there remained unresolved issues.

Soon, he told himself, but not today.

Sabrina looked up and caught Douglas watching her. Immediately, he started towards her, pulling her up off the bench and into his arms. 

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"No, yes, I don't know," Douglas said and held her close. Eventually, he released her. "Shall we walk?" he asked.

Sabrina nodded and turned with Douglas heading deeper into the garden. "How is he?"

Douglas considered, "He's resting, I think talking took a lot out of him."

Sabrina listened as Douglas filled her in, sharing with her all that he had learned. "Your mother never told you?"

"No, and I understand now that it's because she thought it was what was best for everyone." Douglas said.

"You don't agree with her decision?" Sabrina asked.

Douglas shrugged. "I'm learning that we can never really understand why people make the decisions they do. We can only trust that it's because they have our best interests at heart." 

He wondered if Sabrina would think the same of him when she learned of their shared past. He didn't think so, didn't think that he could offer up the same clear conscious as his father. His had been revenge, pure and simple.

They walked in silence, enjoying the last of spring's warmth and knowing that the days would be turning hot with summer. "If you're agreeable, I would like to stay for a while."

"Of course," Sabrina said. "We'll stay as long as you want."

They settled into a routine, taking breakfast with Mae before Douglas joined his father in the afternoon. Together, Douglas and Charles would sit and talk getting to know each other and sharing moments from their past. Douglas was continually amazed at how much of his young life his father was familiar with. 

On good days, they would walk or ride through the estate, Charles sharing his favorite places with his son and teaching him about the details of the estate he was to inherit. The both knew that they were trying to capture a lifetime together in a few, short months.

They had been at Arlington Park for just over a month when word came from London. Sitting at the breakfast table, Douglas was surprised when a note arrived from his steward. Reading quickly, he cursed quietly under his breath.

"What is it?" Sabrina asked.

"There's been a fire in one our factories," Douglas said. He had been working to improve conditions among all of his holdings. Unfortunately, this one was recently purchased and hadn't been renovated to his standards.

"Was anyone hurt?" Mae asked.

"Unfortunately; it appears there were several injuries and a few deaths." Looking up, Douglas caught Sabrina's concern. "I apologize, it appears that I'm going to need to return to London and help sort this all out."

Sabrina nodded, "Of course, would you like me to accompany you?"

Douglas didn't like the idea of being separated from his wife but London in the middle of summer was...unpleasant. "I think it best if you remain here. I shouldn't be gone long; besides, I'll be working and there isn't much in the way of entertainment in town."

"How long?" she asked.

"I won't know for sure until I get there and see the situation for myself," Douglas said. "I'll send word once I have an idea."

Sabrina nodded and rose, "I'll see to your packing and have them saddle your horse."

"Thank you," Douglas said and went to gather his things. He had accepted his father's offer and turned the library into a makeshift study. His father usually rested late in the afternoon and Douglas took that time to work, sending notes to his steward and answering correspondences. Often times, Sabrina would join him, reading or spending time with her needlepoint. It was time he'd come to enjoy and would miss while he was gone.

Sabrina stood beside Douglas waiting as they brought his horse around. Mae had quietly slipped away giving them a moment alone to say goodbye. "I'll miss you," she said.

Douglas looked down at his wife and smiled. "I promise I won't be gone long."

"I know, but I'll still miss you." Sabrina rose up on tiptoe and kissed the corner of his mouth. Earlier they had taken time to come together and make love; it had been soft and gentle with an underlying promise.

She watched as Douglas settled into the saddle, his horse shifting underneath him. The young gelding seemed to sense that they were destined for a long run, something he hadn't been able to do since they arrived at Arlington Park. "Douglas," she said as he turned his horse to go, "journey safe."

"I will," Douglas said. For a moment he had thought to hear her say she loved him. Neither of them had given the words yet and he would admit that he was waiting, wanting to hear it from her before telling her the truth. When she said nothing further, Douglas turned and giving his horse his head galloped down the drive.

Sabrina watched him go wondering at her inability to tell him how she felt. She loved her husband, had known that about herself for some time, but something held her back. There was something there between them, something left unsaid that kept her from revealing the truth of her feelings. She feared that she wouldn't be able to tell him the truth of her feelings until whatever it was was revealed.

A new routine emerged in the days that followed Douglas' departure. Sabrina still breakfasted with Mae but her afternoons were spent with her father. Having known him since she was a child, Sabrina was thrilled to learn more about him. 

Unfortunately, there were times when his illness would flare up, leaving him bedridden for days at a time. On those occasions, Sabrina would sit beside him and read aloud until the laudanum took effect and he slept.

Two weeks later word finally came from Douglas, unfortunately in the form a note barring his apologies at having to remain in London for another couple of weeks. Sabrina read the letter out loud to Mae and her father, unable to hide her disappointment.

"You should join him," Charles suggested. "There is no sense in you staying here if he's going to be another two to three weeks."

Sabrina looked up from her letter. "You wouldn't mind?"

Sabrina had come to care for them both and didn't want them feeling abandoned.

"Of course not, dear." Mae insisted. "We can certainly fend for ourselves and it's not like you won't be back."

Sabrina bit her lip. "I offered to go when Douglas first left, I got the impression that he didn't want me to join him."

"I'm sure that was true when he thought he'd only been gone a couple of weeks. A month or more without his new bride is another matter," Charles said with a smile. "I'm sure he'd be thrilled if you surprised him. Besides, it would do him some good to take a break from work."

"Well," Sabrina hesitated, not wanting to admit just how much she'd missed her husband. "If you don't think I'd be too much of a disruption to him in London."

"He's not in London," Charles said, taking a bite of egg. "He mentioned that he'd being staying at West Haven."




English Rose Ch. 03



"West Haven?" Sabrina asked. She was sure Douglas never mentioned the estate to her before.

"It was his mother's estate, she left it to him when she died." Charles added helpfully.

"Oh," Sabrina said. If it was his mother's that would explain why he'd never mentioned it. His mother was still a relatively painful subject.

"We can have you and your maid there in a matter of days," Charles said. He'd enjoyed his time with Sabrina but it was obvious that she was missing her husband and he suspected Douglas felt much the same way. He would see them both happy and was confident that the couple would return. 

"Alright," Sabrina said, her smile bright enough to light the room.

"Good," Mae said. "Come, I'll help you and your maid pack."

The trip took them a day and a half with a stop at the same inn where Sabrina had spent time with Douglas. Both the inn keeper and his wife remembered her and offered up the same set of rooms. Sabrina was sure she would have felt lonely if not for the fact that she would be with Douglas on the morrow. 

"My Lady, we're about twenty minutes out," the coachman called down from his seat.

Sabrina, riding in the carriage with Tilly, set aside her book and moved to look out the carriage window. Not wanting to miss seeing the surrounding countryside or her first glimpse of West Haven, Sabrina had instructed the driver to alert her when they were getting close.

The countryside reminded her of her father's home in Hampshire with its gently rolling hills and quiet, open spaces. For several minutes Sabrina sat, smiling as she watched the scenery roll by. It was only as they turned off the main road and started down the short drive that she felt the first shiver of apprehension.

A moment later and apprehension burst into full fledge fear. "Driver?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"This is West Haven?" Sabrina asked as the small cottage estate came into view.

"Yes, my lady," the driver called and continued forward.

"What is it, my lady?" Tilly asked.

"It's nothing," Sabrina said as the carriage came to a halt. "Wait

here," she ordered and jumped down, not bothering to wait for a footman.

Quickly climbing the stairs, Sabrina was preparing to knock when the front door opened and she found herself face to face with Martin.

"Can I help...?" Martin felt himself pale at the sight of Lady Radcliff standing on the front steps. "Lady Radcliff."

"Where is he?" Sabrina asked.

Martin took a step back allowing Sabrina into the foyer. Quickly, his mind raced through the possibilities of making excuses or denying her access. In the end, he simply pointed the way. "Lord Radcliff is in the library."

Sabrina headed towards the double doors, her mind working furiously to catch up with what she already knew. Opening the door to the library, Sabrina stepped inside. "Douglas?"

Douglas' head snapped up at the sound of his wife calling his name. "Sabrina?" Oh god, he thought. "What are you doing here?"

"I...I came to surprise you," she said and felt her world start to crumble. No, she thought, not yet. "Douglas..." she stopped, not sure what she wanted to ask. "This is West Haven?"

"Yes," Douglas said quietly. Already he could see the wheels turning as she worked to put the pieces together. Slowly, he got to his feet and made his way around the desk. "Sabrina, please let me explain."

Sabrina turned back the way she came and headed towards the foyer, stumbling slightly at the sight of Martin and Jared standing side by side.

"My lady," Jared stepped forward, prepared to stop her.

"Let her go," Douglas called.

Ignoring them all, Sabrina grabbed her skirts and raced up the stairs. Grabbing the banister, she pulled herself up the last few steps and propelled herself down the hall. Slowing, aware of her breath coming quick with barely contained panic, she reached a closed door and stopped. Hesitating, she reached for the door but didn't immediately turn the knob.

"Sabrina, please don't go in there, not until you hear me out." Douglas had followed her up the stairs, ordering the others to wait below, and stood watching her.

Sabrina ignored him. Turning the knob she pushed open the door and stepped into the room. Memories of that night came flooding back; like an avalanche they threatened to bury her, smothering her as she went down. 

"It was you," she said. Turning to look at him she noted that he hadn't stepped into the room. "All this time, it was you and you never said anything."

"I was waiting for the right time," Douglas said softly.

"The right time?" Sabrina asked, hearing the slightly hysterical edge to her voice. "When exactly is the 'right time' to tell your wife you were the one that raped her?"

Douglas flinched as if she'd slapped him.

"Why?" she asked. "Why would you do that and why..." Sabrina stopped, memories of that night coming into focus. "Revenge," she said. "I remember, for something my father did."

"Please, come downstairs and let me explain," Douglas said trying to coax her from the room.

Ironically, Sabrina felt a sense of comfort surrounded as she was by the proof of that night. "What is there to explain? You abducted me, raped me, left me with no future and then married me!" Sabrina wrapped her arms around her waist as she started to feel her control slipping.

Douglas watched as his wife started to come apart. "It wasn't all bad, there was the next night," he thought to remind her of the rest of their time together, of the pleasure he'd helped her to find.

"Right," Sabrina said. "The night I whored myself out to you."

"Sabrina..."

"Then again," Sabrina said, unable to stop the flow of words. "Considering who your mother was you must have come to expect if of women."

Douglas didn't realize he'd slapped her until the act was done.

Sabrina felt her head snap back and tasted blood. Cradling her cheek, she stared at Douglas, watching as he took a step back, his fists clenched at his side. She'd deserved that, had earned it with her cruel words. Dropping her hand she straightened her shoulders. "I think we're done here," she said.

Douglas watched as she stepped past him but didn't try and stop her. He still hadn't moved from his place inside the doorway when the front door closed behind her or the sounds of the carriage pulling out of the short drive reached him.

Sabrina focused on putting one foot in front of the other until she reached the carriage. Pulling herself inside she ordered the driver to London and slammed the door behind her. Outside, the four footmen Charles had sent to accompany them scrambled up into their saddles and hurried to catch up.

"My lady?" Tilly asked.

"Not now," Sabrina said. Realizing that she was shaking, Sabrina wrapped her arms around herself and felt herself slowly collapse to the floor. "Oh, god," she said as the sobs finally broke through.

"Sabrina!" Tilly cried in alarm, dropping her usual formality and bending to take the young woman in her arms. "Hush," she said, rocking Sabrina while she sobbed. It was a long time before her young mistress quieted and seemed to settle into a daze.

Sabrina slowly came around to sounds of them entering the city. Still wrapped in Tilly's comforting embrace, she took note of their direction. "Not here, Tilly," she said, recognizing the street she lived on with Douglas. "Tell the driver to head for my father's house."

Tilly nodded; helping Sabrina up onto the bench, she called up to the driver. Sabrina turned away as they rode past the Radcliff townhouse. She couldn't - wouldn't - go back there.

"My lady, your family will have moved to the country for the summer," Tilly reminded her.

"I know," Sabrina said.

Sabrina let herself into the St. Ives townhouse, unaware and uncaring of the stir she caused to the small staff still in residence. Tilly, directing the unloading of her mistress' trunks, sent the duke's carriage back after releasing the four footman. She had no doubt that they would report the day's events to the duke, whatever they were.

Sabrina walked on wooden legs, letting herself into her own room and crawling up onto the big bed. She lay unseeing, wondering at the tragedy that had become her life before finally falling into an uneasy sleep.

To be continued...



English Rose Ch. 04



Douglas was drunk. He was trying for oblivion but unconsciousness continued to elude him. After Sabrina had left, he'd ordered Martin and Jared from the room and locked himself in his library. 

That first night they'd come to check on him, periodically trying the door and encouraging him to eat. The second night they took to banging on the door, refusing to cease until he confirmed that he was, unfortunately, still very much alive. After the third night Jared picked the lock and let himself in.

"My lord?" Jared slipped inside the library, closing the door behind him. He and Martin had agreed that of the two of them Jared was better prepared to deal with Douglas in his current state. One look at his long time friend and employer and Jared had to admit that they'd been wrong. He'd never seen Douglas like this before.

Douglas sat in front of a cold fire. Still wearing the same clothes, he had three days growth along his chin and his hair had come loose of its tie. 

"Get out," Douglas said quietly and drained his glass. He had long since finished off the brandy; not wanting to see anyone or risk opening the door he'd moved on to the whiskey and eventually the scotch. Nasty stuff scotch but it got the job done. 

Jared stopped and stood staring down at Douglas. "Sir."

"Leave it be, Jared." Douglas said, sounding surprisingly sober. "Leave me be."

"I can't," Jared said. Carefully taking the empty glass from Douglas he set it aside. "It's been three days since you last ate. Let the cook prepare you a light supper while we get you cleaned up."

Douglas resisted Jared's attempts at getting him out of the chair. "She's gone."

"She'll be back," Jared insisted.

"You didn't see her face when she left." Douglas said; the memory of Sabrina's empty eyes as she left would haunt him forever.

Jared didn't bother correcting Douglas. He had in fact watched as Lady Radcliff left, pale but for the handprint on the left side of her face.

"I slapped her," Douglas muttered. "I've never stuck a woman before in my life and I decide to start with my wife."

"You both said and did things you didn't mean," Jared said once again urging Douglas to stand.

Douglas, too tired to fight, allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Swaying slightly, he said, "She hates me. She hates me for what I did to her but more then that I think she hates me for not telling her. Why didn't I tell her?" Douglas asked, not expecting an answer.

"You were afraid of losing her," Jared answered.

"I lost her anyways," Douglas said allowing himself to be led from the room.

Jared caught Martin's eye as he led Douglas upstairs and shook his head. Douglas was in no shape to eat. For now, they'd get him to bed and worry about food in the morning.

Still mumbling, Douglas collapsed onto the bed as Jared worked to remove his clothes. Too big to move, Jared settled for covering Douglas with an extra blanket before blowing out the candles and leaving the man to sleep.

Sabrina spent two days in a haze before deciding what to do. She couldn't return to Arlington Park and she didn't want to see her family. She had no idea how she would explain her sudden arrival and wasn't sure she was ready to face her father. 

She was numb, having retreated to some distant place in her mind where there was nothing, no light, no darkness and no pain. Finally, with nowhere left to go, Sabrina had Tilly make arrangement for them to travel to Heritage Hills where Ellie would be summering with her family.

Ellie passed through the bright foyer on her way to the gardens, stopping short as the footman closed the door. "Sabrina? What are you doing here?"

Sabrina's answer was cut short as three young ladies came laughing into the hall. All three stopped short and gave Sabrina a deep curtsy. Sabrina, completely unable to deal, looked helplessly from the young women to her longtime friend. Suddenly, understanding dawned. "Oh Ellie, your mother's house party! I completely forgot; I'm so sorry! I should go."

"Sabrina? Wait!" Ellie cried in alarm. Reaching out she grabbed her friend's hand, keeping her from leaving. Turning to the other young ladies, she said, "Why don't you join the others in the garden for games and refreshments." 

Ellie waited until the three ladies disappeared out the back door before turning and pulling Sabrina in to the library. Closing the door behind her she stared down at where Sabrina sat collapsed on the couch. She'd only ever seen that look on her friend's face once before. "What happened?"

"It was Douglas," Sabrina said softly, having come to accept the truth.

"What was Douglas? Is Lord Radcliff alright?" Ellie asked, concern evident in her voice.

"That night, the abduction, the rape - all of it - it was Douglas." Sabrina shrugged, a sense of inevitability settling around her shoulders. 

"Douglas? He...but, why?" Ellie asked, disbelief evident in her voice.

"Revenge," Sabrina said. "For something my father did to his mother, I didn't stay long enough to ask for all the details."

Ellie sat down on the couch next to Sabrina. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. For now, I was hoping I could stay with you. I know that you're busy with plans for your wedding." Ellie was to be married at the end of the summer. "But I can't go back to Douglas and I won't go to my family."

"Of course you can stay," Ellie said. "Unfortunately, we're fairly full with the house party. I'll have your stuff brought up to one of the remaining guest rooms. It's small but once the guests are gone I'll have you moved to a larger suite."

"Wherever is fine," Sabrina said, rubbing her temples. "I just need a place to rest, to think and figure out what I'm going to do."

"Of course," Ellie said and rang for a maid. "Why don't you come outside and join the party?"

"I'm not much in the mood for games," Sabrina said, smiling apologetically. 

"No, I wouldn't think so but come and sit outside," Ellie urged. "It's a beautiful day out and you look like you could use some sun." 

Sabrina knew she was pale but it wasn't from lack of sun. Still, she'd spent the past three days holed up in her rooms, some time outside would do her some good. "Alright."

"Good," Ellie said. Standing, she shook out her skirts and led Sabrina from the library. 

Outside in the gardens several young lords and ladies had paired up and were engaged in a variety of games. A large assortment of light foods and drinks were set up to allow the guests to refresh themselves at their leisure. Dinner would be served late, during the night's ball, and the late afternoon luncheon would see them all through until then.

Sabrina greeted Ellie's mother the Countess and several other guests all of whom she knew from her time in London. She had no doubt that her appearance would cause speculation - especially once it became obvious that Douglas would not be joining her.

Marcus Edington dropped from the saddle, a nod of thanks to the stable lad that stepped forward and took his horse. "Make sure you cool him down before you stable him for the night."

"Yes, my lord," the lad said and hurried off.

Marcus took a deep breath and sighed. He had ridden over from his neighboring estate wondering at his wits the entire way. The Mills' had been his neighbors for years but more then that they were friends. It's why he attended the Countess' annual summer house party. He hated these things with a passion but knew that his name added a certain...edge to the guest list. 

Staring up at the front door, Marcus braced himself for dealing with simpering females and arrogant lords and knocked. Hopefully, the Countess had stocked his favorite brandy.

A moment later, following a footman, Marcus stepped out into the gardens. For a moment he went unnoticed and was able to survey those gathered below.

The Countess stood off to one side, watching to ensure the guests were having a good time and directing the staff. Her daughter Ellie stood in the center of everything, her bright blonde hair a beacon. Beside her stood her fiance, Lord Stephen Mathews. One look at the man and everyone could see that he was positively besotted with his soon to be bride. 

The rest of the crowd was unsurprising, the typical lords and ladies gathered to entertain and be entertained in return. Marcus noted that there wasn't a married lady in the bunch and sighed. 

Taking a deep breath, Marcus was preparing to step into the crowd when a sudden movement off to his left drew his attention. Sitting alone, her face turned up to the sun was the new Lady Radcliff. Turning once again to survey the crowd, Marcus confirmed that her husband appeared to be absent. Interesting, Marcus thought.

Sabrina Radcliff was a close friend of the Lady Mills and a frequent visitor to Heritage Hills. She often attended the annual house party however he hadn't expected to see her there so soon after her wedding and certainly not without husband in tow. 

Radcliff had made it clear in the weeks leading up to their nuptials that attention from any other male was unwelcome.

Changing directions, Marcus skirted the games and slipped into the seat beside Sabrina. "Good afternoon, my lady."

Sabrina turned towards the familiar voice. "Good afternoon, my lord," Sabrina said and turned back to watching the games. 

It wasn't exactly a dismissal but the message was clear, Lady Radcliff wished to be alone. Marcus ignored her silent warning but didn't try to engage her in further conversation. For the time being he contented himself with simply watching her, wondering at the quiet sadness he saw on her face. 

He'd known Sabrina for years, was only a few years older then her though the differences in their genders kept them at a distance. At least, it had up until she'd become Lady Radcliff, safely married and eligible for his attention.

Sabrina was well aware of Lord Edington's presence. She was also well aware of his reputation and his penchant for married ladies. Neither of which appealed to her. "Do you plan to join the games?" she finally asked him.

"Not if I can help it," Marcus said.

"Why, pray tell, do you bother attending these things if you detest them so?" Sabrina asked.

Marcus smiled the censure in her voice. "A favor for a friend."

Sabrina's eyes narrowed as she considered him. "Certainly not the Countess?"

"No," Marcus said, surprisingly offended that she would think him only capable of doing a favor for a lady if he was sleeping with her. "Our families have shared a border for years, I'm just being neighborly."

"I see," Sabrina said.

"Do you?" Marcus asked.

"Yes," Sabrina said. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for Ellie."

"Is that why you're here?" Marcus asked. "As a favor to the young Lady Mills?"

"No." Sabrina said and left it at that.

They sat in silence watching as the games came to an end and the guests headed inside. Dinner and dancing came next and what promised to be a late night. In addition to the houseguests, the local gentry were invited to attend and would be arriving shortly. 

Sabrina, reluctant to leave the quiet solitude of the gardens, finally rose. "Thank you for keeping me company, my lord."

Marcus smiled sardonically, "It was nothing," he assured her. They had spent the afternoon in near silence, exchanging the occasional commentary on the guests and their success or failures at the games. Still, he would have to admit that it was an almost pleasant way to spend an afternoon. "Perhaps you'll allow me to escort you into dinner?"

"I'm sorry, my lord, but I'm not feeling up to dinner or dancing this evening. I plan to retire early." Sabrina turned and headed inside, surprised when Lord Edington fell into step beside her.

"That's a shame," Marcus said. "I suspect that you are the most interesting guest in attendance this evening."

"I doubt that," Sabrina said but smiled at the compliment. "I fear I was dreadfully boring this afternoon."

"Nonsense, I prefer silence to inane chatter." Marcus held open the door leading into the main part of the house. From there Sabrina could either join the others in the sitting room or slip upstairs quietly and unnoticed.

Smiling in appreciation, Sabrina turned to Marcus. "I'll bid you a goodnight, my lord. I hope you enjoy yourself this evening."

Marcus watched her as she slipped upstairs quietly and turned down the family wing. Again, he found himself wondering at her unexpected appearance, sans husband. 

"Leave her be."

Marcus turned at the order and found the Countess watching him through narrowed eyes. "Hello, Bettie."

"Don't 'Bettie' me," Beatrice Mills said. "That one is not for you,"

Beatrice said, indicating the top of the stairs.

Marcus slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "I was simply keeping the lady company."

"I know you, Marcus and I've seen that look in your eyes before."

Beatrice adored her neighbor but was well aware of his faults. 

"What look?" Marcus asked.

"That look you get when you spot something...interesting." Beatrice frowned; her daughter had told her of Sabrina's unexpected arrival and hinted at a strain between the young woman and her new husband. She suspected something more but trusted that it was none of her business. 

"There are plenty of other eligible ladies for you to trifle with,

Sabrina is not one of them."

"I beg to differ; there is, in fact, a noticeable lack of 'eligible' women at this party. Why do you insist on stocking these things with young, unmarried ladies?" Marcus asked.

"Marcus, the purpose of these things..." Beatrice started.

"I know, I know," Marcus said, holding up his hand in surrender. "I promise, I'll behave myself and do my best to entertain all of your guests."

Beatrice's eyes narrowed as she considered the meaning behind his words. "You'll leave Sabrina alone?" She couldn't help feeling protective of the young woman. Sabrina had practically grown up with Ellie and was considered part of the family.

"I promise I won't 'trifle' with her," he said. "Now, shouldn't we get ready for dinner?"

Beatrice stared him down for another moment before nodding her head. "Your man sent over a change of clothes earlier today. I had them pressed and hung up for you in one of the smaller guests rooms upstairs." Motioning a footman forward, she said, "Please show Lord Edington to his room."

"Yes, ma'am," the footman said.

Marcus gave Beatrice a small bow before following the footman upstairs, noting that his rooms were at the opposite side of the house from Sabrina.

Douglas became aware of his surroundings slowly and painfully. His headed pounded, his eyes were dry and gritty and his tongue tasted as if something had crawled inside his mouth and died. Carefully, he sat up hanging his legs off the side of the bed and reached for the bell-pull.

Martin entered a moment later carrying a tray laden down with hot food and tea. "Good afternoon, sir."

Douglas grunted, "Where's Jared?"

"I'm here, sir," Jared said, following Martin into the room.

"How long was I out?" Douglas asked.

"Including your time in the library, five days." Jared said.

Douglas cursed. "Have my steward meet me downstairs in half an hour. Do you have any idea where my wife is?"

"No," Jared said. "Begging your pardon but you're going to need more then half an hour to get cleaned up."

Douglas glared at his man until he ran a hand over his chin. Feeling more then just a five o'clock shadow, he had to concede to the fact that he was well and truly a mess. "Very well, have a bath brought up and my steward here in an hour."

"Yes, sir," Jared said preparing to leave the room.

"And Jared," Douglas said.

"Yes, sir?"

"Find my wife!" Douglas ordered.

Douglas pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. His head pounded hard enough that he was sure it would split open under the pressure. He had done a good job of nearly drinking himself into oblivion, unfortunately, there was no way to stay there.  

Realizing he was wallowing, Douglas looked up in time to see Martin unloading the tray onto a table near the fireplace. "Thank you, Martin."

"Of course, my lord. Will there be anything else?" Martin asked.

"Please see that the library is restored to its usual order and throw out any remaining scotch." Douglas said.

Martin gave a small smile. "Already done, sir."

"Good," Douglas said and sat down to eat. "I'll be down shortly, should my steward arrive before me please see that he is settled in the library and let him know that I will want a full report on the repairs when I arrive."

"Yes, sir." Martin said and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Douglas sat and ate watching as several members of his staff hauled up buckets of hot water for his bath. The food helped to settle his stomach and as much as he hated to admit it the tea seemed to settle his head. He thought perhaps he detected a trace of laudanum, just enough to take the edge off the pain, and was thankful.

As his mind cleared his thoughts turned to Sabrina. He recalled every moment of their last encounter in stark detail. He played the scene over and over again, seeing the hurt and betrayal filling her eyes followed by an emptiness that scared him. 

She had every right to be hurt and angry, to no longer trust him. His only hope was that she cared for him enough to give him a chance to explain and perhaps a chance to make it up to her. He couldn't take back what he'd done but he refused to believe that there was no hope for them. He just needed to see her, to talk to her - if only she'd listen.

An hour later Douglas let himself into his library, pleased to find the room clean and his steward waiting patiently. "Good afternoon, Henry."

"Good afternoon, sir." Henry stood as Douglas entered the room and took his place behind the desk. He didn't wait for his employer to sit before jumping into business. "Here are the latest reports regarding the repairs including a timeline for completion and an estimated cost."

Douglas glanced over the report, double-checked that the figures where in line with what he'd discussed with the company doing the repairs and signed it. "And the provisions for the injured and dead?"

"Next page," Henry said. "All but one individual has been released from the hospital and all their bills paid. Arrangements have been made to cover the funeral costs for those that died as well as pensions for those that had families. Luckily, the number of deceased was smaller then we first feared."

"Good," Douglas said. "How are things with the insurance company?" Douglas was one of the few that carried insurance on all his commercial properties as well as his private estates. The insurance company was arguing the cause of the fire and insisting that it wasn't covered under his policy. 

"They're standing by their position that the fire was intentionally set and/or the building wasn't up to code." Henry gave a slight smile at Douglas' snort. There were no 'codes,' which was one of the things Douglas was working to change. "I've started interviewing solicitors to review the insurance policy and begin negotiations with the insurance company."

Douglas nodded, satisfied. "It appears that you've managed well during my...absence."

Henry had worked for Douglas for years and knew what his employer expected. He was a fair and reasonable man, which made working for him both easy and a pleasure. "Thank you, my lord. Is there anything else?"

Douglas was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Enter."

"Begging your pardon, sir." Jared said. "I thought you might like an update regarding Lady Radcliff."

Douglas motioned Jared into the room. Turning to Henry he said, "That will be all, thank you for coming."

"Of course," Henry said and gathered his things.

Douglas waited until Henry closed the door behind him. "Well?"




English Rose Ch. 04



"Lady Radcliff left here five days ago and headed for London. Apparently, she spent two days at her father's townhouse before leaving for the country. Best guess is that she went to her father's home in Hampshire."

"Best guess?" Douglas growled.

"We haven't been able to confirm the information yet," Jared said. "Hampshire is a two day ride from here, I thought it best to consult with you before sending someone."

Douglas wondered if Sabrina would have gone to see her father, perhaps to confront him. It seemed the most likely scenario and his least favorite. The idea of confronting Sabrina, of trying to convince her to return to him while in her father's home held little appeal.

"You were right to wait, I'll make the trip myself." Douglas said, sitting back down at his desk. He had a number of things for Henry to work on while he was gone.

"Are you sure you don't want me to ride on ahead and confirm that she's there?" Jared asked.

"No, that would take too long and would be pointless. It's the most likely place for her to go." Douglas said, finishing his list of instructions and placing it in an envelope.

"Very well, my lord." Jared said.

Douglas left first thing the next morning and rode hard. It was a two-day ride but if he pushed he could make it there early on the second day. He was anxious to see Sabrina, to reassure himself that whatever her feelings for him she was okay.

The Duke of St. Ives' countryseat rivaled Arlington Park with its sprawling estate and bountiful fields. It was the first time Douglas had ridden out to Hampshire, home of the Duke of St. Ives and Douglas' mother. Suddenly, the trip became almost ironic.

Douglas slid off his mount, both of them exhausted, and hauled himself up to the front door. A moment later and he was waiting impatiently in the sitting room for someone to announce themselves.

"Lord Radcliff?" Came a cultured feminine voice.

Turning, Douglas knew from the confused look on the Duchess' face that Sabrina was not at her father's estate. Quickly, he tried to come up with a reason for being there. "Good afternoon, your grace. I hope you don't mind my unannounced arrival. I was passing this way on business; Sabrina asked that I stop and pass on her regards. I think she was feeling a little homesick."

"How lovely," Lady Montgomery said. "Won't you sit?"

"Thank you," Douglas said, trying to hide his fear and frustration at not finding Sabrina safely with her family. 

"How is Sabrina?" her mother asked. "We haven't heard from her in a while, not since we received word that you would be summering at Arlington Park."

Douglas forced himself to endure forty-five minutes of chatting with Sabrina's mother, updating her on all that they had done at Arlington Park and his father's condition. After which he sat listening as Lady Montgomery gave him an update on the family to pass on to Sabrina.

Finally, when enough time has passed, Douglas rose. "Well, I really should be heading on."

"Of course," Lady Montgomery said. "You'll give my best to Sabrina?"

"Of course," Douglas said and followed the footman out. Turning his horse towards London Douglas wondered where the hell his wife had disappeared to.

At that moment Sabrina sat watching Ellie and her mother as they prepared for Ellie's wedding. It was obvious to all that Ellie was head over heels in love with her fiance and that the feeling was mutual. Lord Mathews was older then Ellie by close to ten years, enough for him to view her youthful exuberance as endearing. It was a good thing given the fact that Ellie had already changed her mind about everything from the wedding date to the cake and flowers at least four times - and that just since Sabrina's arrival.

"Really, Ellie, I promise, the pale pink and light green go very well together." Beatrice assured her daughter.

"I know Mama but the colors don't seem right for a fall wedding." Ellie was pouring over the pile of swatches covering her, the couch and every available surface within reach. "Sabrina, what do you think?"

"I think the same now that I did ten minutes ago," Sabrina said with a smile. "But what I think doesn't matter, this is your wedding. I say pick whatever colors make you happy and to hell with the season."

"Sabrina!" Beatrice admonished with a smile.

Sabrina was saved from making her apologies by the timely appearance of a footman. "Pardon me, my lady but Lady Radcliff has a caller."

Sabrina felt herself pale. "Lord Radcliff?"

"No, my lady," the footman said offering her a card. "Lord Edington asks if you are receiving."

Surprised, Sabrina missed Lady Mills' frown as she took Lord Edington's card. "Thank you." Looking around at the mass of wedding paraphernalia she addressed her question to Ellie's mother. "Would you mind if I spoke with Lord Edington in the library?"

"Of course not, dear. I'll have tea sent in." Beatrice went to ring for a maid. She was tempted to call for Tilly and direct her to the library. However, Sabrina was a married woman and no longer in need of a chaperon. "Damn you, Marcus," she whispered to herself.

Sabrina let herself into the library, smiling in greeting. "Good afternoon, my lord. To what do I owe this pleasure?" 

Marcus turned from the window and was struck by how beautiful Sabrina was. She'd always been a beauty, even as a child and a young girl. However, marriage and whatever tragedy she'd recently suffered added a certain dimension to her that hadn't been there before. She looked wiser, he realized. Not older, but wiser and certainly more experienced. He wondered, and not for the first time since seeing her in the garden, what had happened between her and Radcliff. 

"My lord?" Sabrina asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.

"I was wondering if you might care to join me in a ride into town?" Marcus asked. "There's a farmer's market and a vendor's fair that might be of interest to you."

Sabrina's head tilted slightly as she considered him, a hint of amused confusion marring her brow. "Pardon my confusion, my lord but you do recall our last...encounter? I was poor company then and I dare say I'm little improved today."

Marcus shrugged, "Then you'll be in good company as I've been accused of being a moody bastard on any number of occasions."

Sabrina laughed. "Well, it sounds like we're a perfectly matched pair." Looking outside she noted the weather and the time of day. "Give me twenty minutes to change and have my horse brought round."

Marcus bowed, waiting until she hurried from the room before taking a deep breath. Her laugh had been unexpected; low and throaty it promised things best experienced in the dark. 

He had argued with himself over the wisdom of seeking Sabrina out. Not only had Bettie warned him away from the young woman but there was something about her, a hint of vulnerability wrapped in a blanket of strength that suggested he was better off leaving her alone. But it was a tempting combination and one he couldn't ignore. 

Sabrina dashed upstairs and ordered Tilly to pull out one her riding habits. She didn't bother to stop and wonder at her decision. She was well aware of Lord Edington's reputation, was familiar with his moods and knew that she was using them both as a distraction.

She was tired of sitting around watching Ellie prepare for her wedding, every moment reminding her of her wedding to Douglas. She was happy for Ellie, absolutely, and enjoyed sharing in the planning with her best friend but she needed to get out - out of the house and out of her head - if only for an afternoon. 

"Thank you!" Sabrina called to Tilly as she ran from the room. Her maid had helped her to change in record time and was left with the mess. Next she poked her head into the sitting room where Lady Mills and Ellie poured over yet more fabric. "I'm going into town with Lord Edington, be back in a bit!"

Sabrina didn't wait for an answer but turned and rushed out the front door where Marcus sat atop his horse waiting.

"Twenty three minutes," he said, closing his pocket watch. "Not bad."

Sabrina laughed again, accepting a boost up into the saddle. "I have a fabulous maid."

Turning together they headed off on the short ride into town. They were about half way there when Marcus noted Sabrina glancing at him from under lowered lashes. "What?" he asked.

"I believe, sir, that your reputation is largely unearned." Sabrina said.

Marcus raised one light blonde brow in question. "And what brought you to this conclusion?"

"You seem to be in a rather good mood every time I see you," she said.

"Both of them?" he asked pointedly. 

"Touche," she said. Sabrina considered Marcus with his blonde good looks and athletic build. "You don't appear to be as morose as your reputation would lead one to believe."

Marcus looked away, all humor having fled. "You would do well to believe my reputation, my lady. All of it."

Sabrina's comment died on her lips as he turned dark eyes back on her. Gone was the look of light banter and in its place something dark and a little bit dangerous. 

"I see," she said. "So your plan then is to seduce me, is that it? Now that I'm married," she nearly choked on the word, "I'm considered fair game?"

"Yes," Marcus said, pulling his horse to a stop, forcing her to pull up on her mare. "I have every intention of seeing you in my bed." It was the only warning he would give her and it was one more then any other woman had ever received from him. "Do you wish to continue?"

Sabrina knew that he was asking about their trip into town. "I have no intention of engaging in an affair, with you or any other man. However, if you would like you are more then welcome to escort me in to town."

Marcus smiled as he set his heels to his horse and felt a thrill at her words. All too often women threw themselves at him, he was overdue for a challenge.

On the ride back Sabrina had to admit that she'd enjoyed herself immensely. Marcus was a charming companion even if his entertainments held a hint of sarcasm. He had walked her through the market pointing out the local favorites and buying them a flask of local wine. Later, he'd secured a private dining room at one of the local inns where he was obviously well known.

That afternoon marked the first of many days spent with Marcus. Sabrina would often slip away leaving Ellie and her mother to plan while she walked in the garden or rode out with Marcus. She resisted his less than subtle attempts to join him at his home keeping him at what she hoped was a safe distance.

Sabrina sat in the library, a book forgotten on her lap. Staring out the window at what promised to be a beautiful day she couldn't help but worry. It had been three days since Marcus last called on her. He hadn't gone that long without stopping by since their first trip to the market. She went over their last visit - a ride down to a small lake separating his property from the Mills' - and assured herself that nothing had been said or done that would result in his prolonged absence. 

She thought they had developed a nice friendship. Oh, he still wanted more and made no secret of his intentions towards that end. Still, their time together was pleasant and she'd come to enjoy their afternoons. Setting her book aside, Sabrina started for the door. "I think I'll go for a ride before lunch is served."

Ellie and Lady Mills barely bothered to looked up; they'd both grown used to Sabrina spending her days with Marcus, despite initial misgivings. "Take a footman with you," was all Lady Mills said.

An hour later Sabrina pulled her horse to a stop in front of the Edington estate. She waited as the footman helped her down from her horse and then took the reins. "Wait here," she said.

Suddenly nervous, Sabrina nevertheless walked up to the front door and knocked. She was met by a solemn looking butler, handing him her card she said, "Please tell Lord Edington that Lady Radcliff is here to see him."

"Lord Edington is not receiving, my lady." The butler took her card and started to step back.

Something in his manner caught Sabrina's attention. Staring behind him, she noted that the house was dark, almost closed up with the drapes drawn. Slipping inside before he could close the door Sabrina said, "I'm sure he'll see me, where is he?"

The butler considered her for a moment. A long time employee of the Edingtons he was accustom to his master's moods. He was also aware that the young lady before him was the current favorite. He had strict orders not to admit anyone but something in the young woman's face gave him pause - genuine concern. 

"Lord Edington is in the study, however," he said as Sabrina turned towards the closed door he'd indicated, "it would unwise to go in there, my lady."

Sabrina saw the concern and warning on the butler's face. "I appreciate that, but sometimes friends don't always do what's wise."

Slipping inside, Sabrina quietly closed the door behind her. The drapes had been drawn, the fire cold and the candles unlit. Heavy pieces of furniture left large shadows of blackness that her eyes couldn't penetrate. Not letting go of the doorknob, she stood for several seconds trying to let her eyes adjust to the dark. "Marcus?"

"Leave. Now." His voice, almost unrecognizable, came from across the room.

Sabrina headed to what she thought was the far corner of the room knocking her shins more then once before finding Marcus. 

He sat sprawled in a large, leather chair facing the center of the room; both arms hung over the sides, one hand grasping an empty bottle. His hair was mussed, his cravat gone and the top two buttons of his shirt hung open. "Marcus," Sabrina said softly, kneeling beside him and taking the bottle from his hand.

"Don't," Marcus bit off. "Don't you dare pity me."

"I don't pity you," Sabrina said. "I grew concerned; when you didn't call..."

"What? A few days without me to dance attendance and poor, sad Sabrina grew bored." Marcus fought down feelings of anger and shame, shame that she should see him like this and angry that he cared.

"That's not fair," Sabrina said. "I never asked for your attention but there you were; you can't blame me for having grown fond of you."

"Fond?" Marcus snorted. "I don't want your 'fondness' anymore then I want your pity." Unable to see the hurt in her eyes, Marcus turned his head away and stared into the darkness. "Now, get out."

"No," Sabrina said and stood. 

She was unprepared for how fast Marcus could move. One moment he sat sprawled lazily in the chair, the next he had her by the arms and had slammed her up against the wall. Her heart beat hard against her chest in fear and feminine awareness.

"I suggest you leave now," Marcus growled. "I'm in no mood to deal with your tender sensibilities or your loyalties to a husband that has left you."

"Douglas didn't leave me, I left him," Sabrina said, not sure why she bothered to make the distinction.

"Why?" Marcus asked. Staring down into her face he saw a myriad of emotions that he was unable to name.

"Why do you sit here drinking in the dark?" Sabrina countered.

Marcus didn't answer, as she knew he wouldn't, instead he gentled his grip on her arms, sliding his hands down the length of her arms and back up again. Sabrina felt her breath hitch as the movement caused him to brush the outside of her breasts with his fingers. "Marcus, don't."

"Why did you come here?" Marcus asked, watching her face as he continued to stroke her arms, each pass brushing his fingers against her breasts.

"I told you, I was worried." Sabrina said.

"No other reason?" Marcus pressed.

"No," Sabrina insisted. "Marcus, let me go."

Marcus dipped his head and brushed his lips against her mouth, once, twice, and heard her sigh. "You had your chance," Marcus said just before his mouth captured hers in a kiss.

Sabrina whimpered as his mouth covered hers. Even she didn't know if it was a sound of protest or acquiescence. For a moment she stood frozen, indecisive as Marcus explored the outer contours of her lips. His mouth, having started out hard and unyeilding, suddenly softened.

Marcus nibbled on her lower lip before gently sucking it between his teeth. "Let me in," he whispered against her mouth. "Just this once open up for me."

"I can't," Sabrina whispered, tore between desire and what she knew to be right.

"It's just a kiss," Marcus said, licking at her lips. "Just one kiss."

"It's not just a kiss," Sabrina said, feeling her resolve starting to

weaken.

"One kiss," Marcus said, "and I'll let you go," he promised.

Sabrina felt her resolve crumble as he bit gently at her lower lip and then licked the sting away. Without further thought, she surrendered, opening to him.

Marcus groaned in triumph as Sabrina's lips parted beneath him. Sweeping inside, he sunk them into a kiss the likes of which he'd never experienced. Knowing that this was his one chance and that she may very well resent him for it afterwards, Marcus intended to take as much as he could.

Sabrina's head spun as Marcus kissed her; he didn't just kiss her with his mouth but got his entire body involved. His hands swept up her back, pulling her him. At the same time his hips rocked forward and found a place to settle between her thighs. She hadn't even realized that she'd parted her legs to accommodate him until he was pressed up against the front of her. Seemingly of their own volition, her hands reached out and grabbed Marcus by the hips, pulling him harder against her.

Marcus put everything he had into that kiss; all the desperation he'd felt over the past three days was there for her to feel. He used his tongue to explore the curve of her mouth, finding her lower lip to be slightly fuller then the top before moving back inside and tasting her. She tasted sweet, reminding him of honey and making him wonder how the rest of her would taste.

Marcus tasted like brandy. His mouth wet and hot against her, Sabrina gave over to his exploration until she grew itchy and restless. Never a passive lover, Sabrina sucked gently on Marcus' tongue hearing him groan against her mouth in response. Her hands moved from his hips to his chest and up into his hair. His hair felt like stands of silk in her hands and she grasped at his tightly. 

Marcus could feel his control slipping as she responded beneath him. Never before had he called a halt to a willing woman but he already suspected that Sabrina would start to have regrets.

Slowly, he reined in their passion working to cool them both with gentle touches. Finally, a measure of willpower beneath him, Marcus broke the kiss.

Resting his forehead against hers, he stared down at her lips, red and swollen from their kiss. "Go. Now, before I do something you will certainly regret tomorrow."

Sabrina stared at him. Her body protested the idea of leaving unsatisfied and her head had yet to clear.

"Go!" Marcus said, pushing away from her.

Sabrina fled across the room. It was only as she reached for the door that she stopped. "Marcus?"

Marcus laughed quietly, dark and without humor. "I'll call on you tomorrow."

Marcus waited until the door closed behind her before falling back into his chair. He would keep his promise and call on her tomorrow. Until then...he reached for another bottle of brandy and brought it to his lips but hesitated before taking a drink not wanting to wash away the taste of her.

Douglas hired a bow street runner to find his wife. It took a surprisingly small amount of time for the man to report back that the Lady Radcliff was residing at Heritage Hills. Douglas could have kicked himself for his stupidity. Lady Eleanor Mills was to be married at the start of London's Little Season. It made sense that Sabrina would chose to stay with her best friend until then.

Douglas had returned to London after his failed attempt at finding Sabrina. Summer was drawing to a close and he had thoughts of finding Sabrina in town. Unfortunately, he didn't have much time. Already he'd received word from Mae that his father's health continued to decline. He had given himself until November to find and patch things up with Sabrina. Come the first of the month he would be returning to Arlington Park - with or without her.




English Rose Ch. 04



The Mills-Mathews nuptials were set for September first; Douglas was on the guest list and had every intention of attending. There was no doubt that's where he would find his wife.

Two weeks before the wedding, Sabrina followed the Mills back to London. Thankfully, Ellie had asked Sabrina to stay with her up until her wedding day. Ellie insisted that she needed Sabrina's words of wisdom and comfort, Sabrina knew that Ellie was aware of the fact that Sabrina had no where else to go.

Sabrina was not surprised when Marcus followed them, taking up residence in his townhouse not far from the center of things. He had kept his promise and arrived the morning after their kiss surprisingly sober and without the expected hangover.

"Practice," Marcus said when she asked him how he managed. "Lots and lots of practice."

They didn't speak of Marcus' mood or of their shared kiss. In fact, things fell back into place surprisingly easily. Marcus once again took to calling on Sabrina almost daily though their activities moved indoors as the weather cooled and often times included Ellie and her mother. Marcus had a surprising eye for color and wasn't afraid to voice his opinions.

More then once Marcus caught Beatrice's confused gaze falling on him, each time he simply shrugged and went back to entertaining the ladies.

The morning of the wedding dawned crisp and bright. It was a perfect day between summer and fall when the weather held its warmth without being hot. The wedding was to be held in the family church with most of the ton arriving for the event.

Sabrina smiled her thanks as Marcus escorted her to the family section and they took their seats. It was only when they were about half way through the ceremony that she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. Turning, she caught Douglas' narrowed gaze. Her heart beating hard, she turned to face forward, clasping her hands in her lap. 

"He's been watching you since we arrived," Marcus bent over and whispered, knowing full well how it would look from where Lord Radcliff sat behind them. 

Sabrina nodded but didn't say anything instead concentrating on the ceremony and wishing it would hurry along.

Douglas' jaw clenched at the sight of Lord Edington whispering in Sabrina's ear. Their easy familiarity with each other hadn't gone unnoticed as he watched them arrive and take a seat together.

Sabrina breathed a sigh of relief as the ceremony came to an end. Silently scolding herself, she reminded herself that this was her best friend's wedding and not the time to worry about Douglas. Not needing to feign happiness, Sabrina stepped forward and hugged Ellie, conscious of Marcus standing behind her. "Oh Ellie, congratulations!"

Ellie beamed. "It's wonderful, isn't it?! I just couldn't be happier."

"Congratulations, my lord, my lady," Marcus said, shaking Lord Mathews' hand and placing a chaste kiss on Ellie's cheek. "You look positively radiant."

"Thank you," Ellie said and turned with her new husband to accept additional congratulations from the rest of the guests.

"Get me out of here," Sabrina whispered, grateful when Marcus took her arm and led her from the church. It wasn't until they were safely seated in the carriage and on their way to the Mills' townhouse that she was able to take a deep breath and relax.

"You do know that he'll be at the reception and likely eager to speak with you," Marcus said. It was interesting watching Sabrina struggle with seeing her husband. He would have thought he'd be jealous but instead he felt something closer to concern. It wasn't like him to get involved with the women he was seeing - they were just affairs after all, temporary and transient. But Sabrina wasn't an affair (not for lack of trying) she was a friend and he hated to see her hurt.

"I know," Sabrina said and rested her head back against the seat.

"If you'd rather I can take you some place else," Marcus offered. His smile held a light reproach at the suspicious look she gave him. "No, not necessarily my place though that is always an option," he reminded her. "We could simply slip away for dinner some place quiet or I have a box at the theater."

"Tempting," Sabrina said, "but I would never forgive myself if I missed Ellie's wedding celebration."

"Of course," Marcus said. "Shall I leave you then to deal with Radcliff?" Marcus asked carefully.

"No," Sabrina said, shaking her head. "You were kind enough to agree to be my escort tonight, I won't throw you to the wolves," she said with some humor. She was all too aware of the fact that Marcus felt safer from the unmarried ladies and their matchmaking mamas with her around.

A number of guests had already arrived and were eagerly awaiting the bride and groom. There were also those that had not been invited to attend the ceremony but were to be included in the wedding celebration. Though Ellie's position would be that of Countess to a smaller estate, she and her family were well liked ensuring a fine turn out for her wedding.

Sabrina's hopes at getting lost within the crush were dashed as she felt a familiar hand on her arm. Turning, she came face to face with her husband for the first time since she'd left over a month ago. "Hello, Douglas."

"Sabrina." Douglas said, his eyes shifting from her to where Marcus stood beside her. "Edington."

"Radcliff," Marcus said. 

Douglas waited for Edington to excuse himself, gritting his teeth when the man gave no indication of leaving. Turning his attention back to his wife he said, "We need to talk."

Sabrina froze her smile into place. "Perhaps, but now is not the time or the place."

"Then when do you suggest?" Douglas asked, hating the charade of polite conversation.

"Actually, I don't see that there is anything to talk about," Sabrina said.

"I disagree," Douglas said. His gaze flicked to Edington and back wondering at how much the man knew. "I would like the chance to explain and apologize."

"Apology accepted," Sabrina said. Her head was starting to pound with the effort it took to keep her smile firmly in place. She hated this, hated standing here face to face with Douglas and her feelings of betrayal. "As for the rest, I don't need an explanation. I'm sure you had very good reasons for everything. I'm also sure that I will never understand them. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Sabrina, please," Douglas said, catching her arm as she turned away. "Please, just give me five minutes, if not now then tomorrow. If you don't want to hear me out then we at least need to discuss how we're to go on from here. You're still my wife," he said quietly.

"Very well," Sabrina said, her chest contracting painfully at the reminder of their marriage. "You may call on me here at eleven."

"Thank you," Douglas said but she was already gone. He watched as Edington escorted his wife from the ballroom. Tempted as he was to throw her over his shoulder and haul her back home, Douglas nevertheless forced himself to walk out, leaving his wife behind.

Sabrina allowed Marcus to pull her into an empty room, closing the door behind them, and into his arms. She hadn't realized that she was crying until he wiped the tears from her cheek.

"You should go back to him," Marcus said, watching as Sabrina worked to gather her composure. "It's obvious that you still care."

"I can't," Sabrina said.

"Was it so bad, whatever he did?" Marcus asked. They'd never talked about why Sabrina had left her husband just as they never spoke of Marcus' occasional bouts with the bottle.

"Yes," Sabrina said softly.

"Do you want to tell me?" Marcus asked. Sitting on the couch, he gently pulled her down onto his lap.

"No," Sabrina said. How to explain the pain and humiliation at having found herself married to the man that raped her? Resting her head on his shoulder, Sabrina tucked her face under his chin. "You smell good," she said.

Marcus felt a shiver of awareness. He had no intentions of starting something, of taking advantage of Sabrina's vulnerable state and had only intended to comfort. However, he couldn't stop his body from responding to her closeness or the suggestion in her voice.

Marcus felt his body tighten as Sabrina nuzzled the tender skin beneath his ear, her breath warm against his neck. "Sabrina," he said in warning.

"Hmmm..." she purred and touched her tongue to the tip of his earlobe before gently drawing it into her mouth. "You taste better then you smell."

Marcus knew he should get up, should stand up and dump her on the couch and walk away. She wasn't ready for him, wasn't ready for what an affair with him would do to her. But for all his noble thoughts Marcus was who he was and he was a man that wanted Sabrina.

Quickly, before he could change his mind, he wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled them over onto the couch, covering her with his long form. 

Sabrina shifted beneath him, parting her legs and cradling him between her thighs. Lifting her head, she met him in a kiss, their mouths searching and hungry. Her hands tugged at his jacket, slipping his cravat free and working on the buttons of his shirt.

Breaking their kiss, Marcus shrugged out of his coat and tossed it on the floor. Instead of recapturing her lips, he pressed his mouth to the generous mound of her cleavage; pulling at the thin material of her dress, he watched in fascination as her breasts sprang free.

Sabrina moaned low in her throat as she felt her breasts cupped and palmed gently. Arching her back, she pressed them more firmly into his hands. "Marcus, please."

"Is this what you want?" Marcus asked, dipping his head to circle one, tight nipple with his tongue.

"More," Sabrina said, tugging at his hair.

"Like this?" he asked and lapped at her with his tongue, chuckling as she whimpered in frustration. "Or this?" he asked and drew her nipple into his mouth, suckling hard.

Sabrina arched off the couch as Marcus' mouth pulled on her nipple, the sensation echoing between her legs. "Oh, god," she moaned as he moved from one nipple to the other repeating the process again and again.

Marcus shifted to his side and ran his hand up Sabrina's leg. The silk of her stockings tickled his palm until he reached the heat of her bare skin. Maintaining his hold on her nipple, he slipped his hand between her legs, moaning at the heat of her.

She was wet and swollen, the lips of her pussy slightly parted with desire revealing the tip of her clit. Marcus could feel her throbbing against his fingertips as he lightly stroked her folds. He wanted to taste her, to watch as she came apart at the end of his tongue.

Sabrina gave a small whimper of protest as Marcus removed his fingers not understanding until he started sliding his body lower. A moment later and realization dawned as he lifted her skirts and pressed her thighs apart.

Marcus looked up to find Sabrina watching him. Her eyes were bright staring at him over the tops of her bare breasts. He paused, giving her a chance to call a halt, a moment for the haze of desire to clear enough for her to remember herself. When no protests came, Marcus settled himself lower until he was able to press a kiss to the tender skin on the inside of her thigh.

Taking his time, he nibbled his way up the inside of her thigh passing over her core and down the other side before working his way back up. This time, when he reached the apex of her thighs he didn't hesitate. Pressing his face forward he stroked his tongue up the inside of her folds tasting her for the first time and drinking in her juices. She was sweet with an intoxicating feminine musk that grew slightly stronger as he licked and lapped at her.

Sabrina couldn't keep from moving; her body arched, hips thrusting and rocking as Marcus licked at her lips and sucked at her clit. Her hands grasped at the couch beneath her working to hold her to this world as her body threatened to shatter.

Reaching up and under her, Marcus grasped Sabrina by the hips holding her hard against this mouth. He could feel her starting to tighten beneath him, her thighs hugging his head between her legs. Answering her unspoken need, he sucked harder on her clit letting her feel the edge of his teeth. 

That little bit of pain was all that she needed; Sabrina cried out as her body clamped down hard and shattered.

Marcus held her as Sabrina came apart in his arms. She was beautiful with her head thrown back and her lips parted, just as he knew she would be. Finally, as the last of the tremors passed, Marcus crawled back up her body, once again settling between her thighs.

Sabrina whimpered, her hips trusting upwards as Marcus pressed against her. Opening her eyes, she found him staring down at her. "Make love to me," she whispered.

Marcus closed his eyes and let his head drop to rest on her forehead. "No," he said and crawled off her. Taking a seat at the end of the couch he watched as she sat up, pushing her skirts back down around her. It took everything he had not to reach for her. His fists clenched on the top of his thighs as he wondered at the insanity of the moment. He'd never walked away from a willing women, never from a woman he wanted and he wanted Sabrina like no other.

"No?" Sabrina echoed in surprise. "Why not?"

"Because," Marcus said, surprised at himself. "You're not ready."

"Then what was this?" Sabrina asked, feeling slightly offended and very much confused.

"This," Marcus said, "was a distraction."

Sabrina swallowed against the lump in her throat. "I guess I should be grateful."

"Sabrina," Marcus said taking her hand and pulling her close to his side. "You know that I want you, I've been very clear about that from the beginning."

"So what's changed?" Sabrina asked.

"Nothing has changed," Marcus said, sensing the lie in his own words. "But as I said, you're not ready to embark on an affair. You're still tied to Radcliff and until you're free of him..." he left off with a shrug.

"He's my husband," Sabrina said quietly. "I will never be free of him."

"Maybe not, but I will not bed you until you make peace with him, with your decision to live separately." Marcus said, surprised at his own nobility.

Sabrina frowned. "Are you always this concerned with the state of your paramour's marriage?"

"No," Marcus said quietly. "But I've come to care for you too much to allow you to do something you will most certainly regret."

Sabrina picked at her skirt. "What if this is what I want?"

Marcus sighed, feeling his resolve weakening. His cock was still hard and throbbing and the taste of her still lingered on his lips. "If after you speak with Radcliff tomorrow you are still set on this course then I will introduce you to what it's like to live in my world."

"Isn't this your world?" Sabrina asked, motioning at their surroundings.

"No," Marcus' laugh was dark and jaded. "This is your world." Leaning over he kissed her quick and hard on the mouth. "I suggest you slip upstairs and have your maid help you straighten your clothes. As for me, I shall take my leave and await word from you tomorrow."

"Where are you going?" Sabrina asked. It was still early, the wedding celebration having all but just begun.

"The taste of you on my lips leaves me hungry for something that, right now, you cannot give me." Marcus stood, his arousal evident, and pulled her to her feet.

Sabrina wasn't sure what to say to that; she couldn't very well argue with him yet she didn't much care for the idea of Marcus taking his ease with another woman. 

Marcus smiled wickedly at Sabrina's disgruntle expression, telling himself that it was best she realize exactly what kind of man she was contemplating getting into bed with.

Watching as Marcus walked out, Sabrina straightened her dress before returning to the wedding celebration. She stayed just long enough to see Ellie and her new husband off before retiring upstairs. She had a lot to think about before her meeting with Douglas.

Marcus left Sabrina feeling restless. He had every intention of continuing on to one of his clubs but found that he had no appetite for the coarse women he would find there. Instead, he changed direction and went in search of a bottle and a quiet came of cards. It was going to be a long night.

The next morning Sabrina arrived in the library to find Douglas waiting for her. Ignoring the maid as she set out the tea service, Sabrina walked to the sideboard and poured a large measure of brandy and handed it to Douglas before taking a seat.

"Thank you," Douglas said and took a sip. Watching Sabrina over the rim of his glass he noted her stiff carriage and careful movements. It struck him then that he had seen her like this once before, the night after he'd raped her.

Swallowing against the bitter taste the memory left in his mouth, Douglas asked, "Is there anything I can say so that you'll forgive me?"

Sabrina turned to look at him. "I don't know," she said, honestly. 

"I am sorry," Douglas said. "Sorry about what happened and that I didn't tell you sooner."

"I know," Sabrina said softly.

"I wish you would let me explain," Douglas said, setting his glass aside.

"Which one of us would that make feel better, you or me?" Sabrina asked.

"Perhaps both, if it would help you to understand and forgive," Douglas offered.

"Douglas," Sabrina said, "I already suspect that it was my father that ruined your mother and I can understand why you would be hurt and angry and why you would seek revenge." Realizing that her tea had gone cold without her having taken a sip, Sabrina set it aside. "The irony is that you failed, miserably." 

Sabrina laughed without humor. "If you thought to get to my father by ruining me then you misjudged your target. I was the one to suffer," she said. "My father simply accepted the matter and moved on."

Sabrina was quiet for a moment but Douglas sensed she had more to say.

"What I don't understand," she said. "Is why marry me? How did that fit into your plan?"

"It didn't," Douglas said. "I married you because I fell in love with you."

Sabrina shook her head in denial. "No."

"Yes," Douglas insisted. "I think it started that second night, when you stood before me and asked me to make love to you - to show you the pleasure you thought never to have for yourself. You were beautiful and brave and scared yet so determined to carve out a piece of something good from the pain I had caused."

Douglas stood and started to pace. "But I was still just the bastard son of a duke and a courtesan. I think, had the situation been different, I would have kept you with me and tried to convince you to stay."

Sabrina sat and stared, trying to digest this new bit of information. Up until that moment she had assumed that everything, including their marriage, had been part of Douglas' revenge against her father.

"Do you believe me?" Douglas asked.

"Perhaps," Sabrina said slowly.

"What more can I say or do to convince you?" Douglas asked.

"How you feel is only part of it," Sabrina said. "What about how I feel?"

"How do you feel?" Douglas asked.

"I don't know," Sabrina said. Turning away, she admitted, "I had thought myself in love with you."

Douglas felt his hope soar. "Love is not so easily destroyed."

"No," Sabrina said. "But how do I trust my feelings for you when everything from our first meeting to our marriage was manipulated? You knew who I was that first night when you asked me to dance. You knew that my father would be hard pressed to turn down your offer of marriage and that I would likely accept any chance at marriage and a family. You knew all of it and used it to get what you wanted."

"Yes, but that doesn't change how I feel about you," Douglas insisted.

"It changes how I feel about you," Sabrina snapped.

Douglas blinked at the harsh reality of her words.




English Rose Ch. 04



"I don't trust you," she continued, "and I don't trust my feelings for you and I'm so bloody angry at you for making me doubt myself."

"If I had told you the truth in the beginning, would you still have married me?" he asked.

"I don't know," Sabrina said. "Probably not," she admitted.

Douglas nodded as if she'd confirmed his suspicions. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Where do we go from here?"

"I don't know that either," Sabrina said. 

"Will you return with me to Arlington Park?" Douglas asked.

Sabrina shook her head. "I need some time to decide what I want to do about us."

"Will you remain here with the Mills?" Douglas wondered.

"No. Ellie left this morning on her honeymoon." Sabrina informed him. "I plan to rent a small townhouse and remain through the Little Season, after that, we'll see."

"You have a home here, Sabrina. The townhouse is yours to use as you please." Douglas didn't like the idea of her living on her own.

"I can't stay there with you, Douglas," she said. "I can't think with you around."

Douglas felt a perverse sense of hope at that. "I'll move myself out today, the house is yours."

Sabrina nodded, not bothering to ask where he would go. She suspected she already knew. "Thank you."

Douglas got up to leave; walking to the door he stopped without turning and asked, "Will you continue your affair with Edington?" 

Sabrina sucked in a breath behind him. Turning, he watched her face close down.

"Leave it be, Douglas." Sabrina said, not bothering to correct his assumption.

"For now," was all he said as he let himself out of the room.

Sabrina sat alone and stared. For several hours after Douglas left she went over everything she knew, wondering at what to believe. In the end, she still felt confused and unsatisfied as to the state of her emotions. 

Finally, as the shadows grew long, she called for her carriage. 

Tomorrow, Tilly would begin the process of packing up their things and moving them back to the Radcliff townhouse. Tonight, she had something else in mind.

Marcus sat behind his desk reviewing a stack of bills and considered ignoring the knock on his door. Disgusted with his spending, he threw the bills aside and called, "Enter." 

Standing in surprise, he watched as Sabrina crossed the room. 

"Show me," she said.

To be continued...



English Rose Ch. 05



Author's note: Some of you were unhappy with the turn of events in Chapter 4. While I don't want to give anything away I do hope that you'll stay with us through to the end. A special thank you to all those that encouraged me to continue the story the way I wanted to. Please know that this chapter was written the way I always intended it. 

*

Sabrina's affair with Marcus began with dinner. His carriage came for her promptly at eight and delivered her to his townhouse a short time later. 

Marcus paced, a drink in one hand, while he waited for Sabrina to arrive. He still wasn't entirely convinced that she would go through with their plans for the evening. She was a woman of morals and an affair wouldn't sit well -- regardless of what stood between her and Radcliff. 

Where he any other man, a better man, Marcus would refuse her and send her back to her husband. However, Marcus wasn't a good man. He'd lost touch with his conscious several years ago and had no intention of going back. 

Still, he wondered at the wisdom of moving forward with the affair. Marcus was hard and jaded; an affair with him wouldn't be easy -- especially for a woman like Sabrina -- and he suspected that they would both hurt for it in the end. Perhaps he should enjoy dinner and then gently but firmly insist Sabrina go back to her husband? 

Marcus stood watching out the window and saw his carriage roll to a stop. Something suspiciously close to excitement shivered across his skin as he watched Sabrina emerge. One look and he knew that there'd be no turning her away. 

Moving away from the window Marcus tossed back the last of his drink and went to welcome Sabrina.

"Thank you Dillon," Marcus said as his man took Sabrina's cloak. "That will be all."

"Yes, sir," Dillon said and turned to go. Like the rest of the staff he'd been given his instructions for Lady Radcliff's arrival and then dismissed for the evening.

"Hello," Sabrina said. Turning she caught a look of anticipation flash across Marcus' face before he shuttered his expression.

"Hello," Marcus said and reached for Sabrina. Slowly, he drew her towards him until barely a breath of space separated them. Sabrina caught a hint of the liquor Marcus had enjoyed while awaiting her arrival. For his part, Marcus felt himself growing hard as the unique scent that was Sabrina filled his senses. 

"I trust you had a relaxing day?" Marcus asked.

"Indeed," Sabrina said. "I wanted to be well rested for our evening."

"Excellent," Marcus said. Staring down into her upturned face Marcus felt himself falling into the green depths of her eyes. In them he saw tenderness and a sadness that had him pulling away, reconsidering his earlier notion of sending her home. That is until those eyes dropped to his lips and he knew that she wondered if he planned to kiss her. 

A spike of lust shot through Marcus as he lowered his head and captured her mouth. He had planned for a slow seduction knowing that Sabrina needed time to adjust but there was nothing slow about this kiss.

Sabrina felt herself pulled up hard against Marcus and her head fall back as he plundered her mouth. His lips were hard and unforgiving as he swept inside tasting her with his tongue before nipping at her with his teeth. 

Marcus growled with approval when Sabrina entangled her fingers in his hair; pulling them closer together he felt her breasts press firmly against his chest. 

Sabrina felt her breasts swell and grow heavy. Her nipples were hard points of desire aching to be touched. She'd missed this, missed being close to someone both physically and emotionally. Douglas had known how to touch her, how take the emotional and pour it into a physical display of caring. Douglas.

Marcus felt Sabrina stiffen and gentled his touch, drawing their kiss to a close. "I'm sorry," he said searching her face. "I didn't mean to rush you."

"It's alright," Sabrina said and took a deep breath. Stepping back she didn't bother correcting Marcus' assumption at the cause of her sudden discomfort. Determined, she pushed thoughts of Douglas from her mind and considered her dinner companion.

Marcus had dressed for dinner and looked splendid in a charcoal gray coat and trousers. His hair was a little long by ton standards and mussed from her fingers. His crisp cravat sat slightly askew and she couldn't resist the urge to straighten the simple knot.

Marcus startled a bit at the feminine gesture, his hand smoothing over the fabric as Sabrina smiled up at him. It was a strangely intimate touch and he wasn't sure what to make of it. 

Breaking the moment of silence, Marcus brushed Sabrina's cheek with the back of his fingers. "Shall we dine?" he asked, ignoring the hammering of his heart and the throbbing of his cock.

Sabrina nodded and allowed Marcus to lead her into the dining room. A light supper was set out on a small table set for two. "Thank you," she said as Marcus helped her to her seat. "Everything looks wonderful."

Marcus smiled and served them both. "I have an amazing cook."

"Indeed," Sabrina agreed, taking her first bite. Marcus was a lively dinner companion with an endless stash of stories. He entertained her with tales from his youth and hinted at his more recent escapades. 

"What's this?" Sabrina asked when Marcus slid a velvet jeweler's box across the table.

"Open it," he said.

Sabrina looked up to find Marcus watching her intently. There was something about the way he looked at her that both thrilled and urged caution. Taking a deep breath Sabrina opened the box and gasped. "Marcus, it's beautiful!"

Nestled in among the velvet lining sat a large teardrop shaped ruby. The stone was the size of her thumb down to the first knuckle and a red so deep as to appear almost black.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his tense posture contradicting his casual question.

Sabrina looked up from the gift. "It's stunning," she said fingering the pendant and watching it sparkle in the candlelight. "Do you always bestow such gifts onto your paramours?"

"No," Marcus said, "you are the first."

Sabrina stared down at the pendant but didn't know what to say. She knew that it was customary for gentlemen to gift their lovers with jewels and other trinkets. But what did it mean that she was the first to receive such a thing from Marcus?

"Sabrina," Marcus said drawing her attention back to his face. "You should know that it comes with one condition. For as long as you wear it you belong to me and no other."

Sabrina blinked at the harshness of his tone but nodded in understanding.

"Now is the time to change your mind with no hard feelings," he said. "We finish a nice meal together and I send you home in my carriage. Otherwise, you're mine," Marcus finished on a growl.

Sabrina passed the pendant to Marcus. For a moment he thought she meant to refuse him and regretted having pushed her. While he suspected that Sabrina wasn't a woman to embark on a casual affair or take on more then one lover he wanted it made perfectly clear his expectations. He would not share.

"Will you put it on?" she asked, surprising him.

Masking his relief, Marcus stood and circled the table. Carefully, he secured the pendant before resting his hands on her shoulders and placing a tender kiss on her neck.

Sabrina held herself still feeling Marcus' hands on her shoulders. His need, his desire pressed against her -- a heat at her back that she longed to lean into. Still confused over what to do regarding her marriage, Marcus offered a simple solace in the chaotic storm of her emotions. Tentatively, she reached up and covered his hand with her own.

Marcus felt a thrill of triumph. Grasping her hand lightly so as not to betray the depths of his emotions he asked, "Shall we go?"

Sabrina nodded and allowed Marcus to draw her to her feet. For a moment they stood much as they had upon her arrival. Sabrina wondered if Marcus would kiss her again and felt something low in her belly tighten in anticipation.

Marcus stared down into her face. He saw his desire mirrored in her eyes along with a number of emotions he couldn't decipher. He realized that while she'd acquiesced to the affair she remained unsure.

"Would you rather stay in?" he asked. His motives were not entirely selfless. Arriving at their destination on his arm would solidify her place as his lover in the eyes of many. It was a public declaration and one he'd chosen specifically with Sabrina and himself in mind. However, seeing her now he realized that perhaps it would be better to begin their affair on a more circumspect note.

"No," Sabrina said and smiled. "You promised to introduce me to your world and I am anxious to begin."

Marcus searched her face one more time. "Very well," he said. "Let us be off."

A short time later Sabrina sat staring out the window of Marcus' carriage. The hour was growing late, many of the ton events in full swing but Marcus assured her that they were right on time. 

Nervous anticipation hummed through her as they drew near their destination. Marcus refused to say where they were going -- only that it was sure to be a new experience for her. Reaching up, Sabrina fingered the pendant hanging around her neck, comforted by its weight and its presence. 

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Marcus asked. 

Still doubtful, Marcus watched Sabrina as she stared out the carriage window. Unlike most ladies of the ton, Sabrina's every emotion showed across her face. Fascinated, he watched as her expression went from uncertainty to resolve to excitement all depending on the direction of her thoughts.

Sabrina turned to where Marcus sat sprawled in the corner of the carriage. "For the last time, yes, I'm sure."

"Once you step into that room you will effectively confirm what everyone already believes, that you and I are having an affair." Marcus warned. "There will be no going back."

"It's already too late for that, " Sabrina said softly, wondering if that was actually true. 

Twenty minutes later Marcus helped Sabrina down from the carriage, escorting her inside and helping her with her cloak. 

Sabrina's dress was simple and understated yet surprisingly elegant. The plunging neckline and sharply cut waist gave the appearance of more then it actually showed -- suggesting rather then displaying. Marcus, used to women wearing more daring decolletage, discovered he preferred the invitation to discover for himself what lay beneath rather then an obvious display of feminine charms. 

Taking her arm, Marcus led Sabrina past the foyer and into the ballroom, watching as she caught her first glimpse of the demimonde.

The ballroom was large, like any other she'd been in, but instead of being cleared for dancing the room was filled with gaming tables and small sitting areas that hinted at private conversations. The lights were lower with fewer candles lit and the conversation held a excited edge that bordered on chaos.

She noted that while there would be no dancing there was still entertainment. In one corner, scantily clad couples performed enticing acrobatics. Across the room live sculptures stood covered in what appeared to be chocolate, the guests periodically changing their positions for amusement. Fascinated, Sabrina found herself unable to turn away for where a woman reclined on a chaise wearing little more then a corset and stockings reading poetry. 

Eventually Marcus took her in hand and led her further into the crowd. Her gazed passed over familiar faces, many of whom she would not have thought to see here. Others she recognized by reputation only. Not a single unmarried lady was in attendance and she noted that most of the individuals neither came nor left with their spouse.

"Ah, Sabrina," Marcus said, drawing her close to his side and settling his arm around her waist. "I'd like you to meet our host for the evening. Sabrina, this is Philip Westmoreland."

"Good evening," Sabrina said and felt her eyes widen in surprise. It was no wonder Marcus refused to disclose their destination. Lord Philip Westmoreland was notorious even among the ton though he was rarely seen in their ballrooms; while Westmoreland's position gained him entry to the most sought after events, it was said that simply being seen in his presence, no matter how public, could ruin a young woman's reputation. 

Offering Philip her hand, Sabrina was surprised when he turned it over and pressed a kiss to her palm, nibbling gently before slowly releasing her. "A pleasure," she said.

"I'm sure you are," Philip said. 

Sabrina couldn't stop the heat that infused her cheeks.

"Oh-ho!" he said, laughing in delight. "She still blushes." Turning to Marcus he said, "You obviously haven't bedded her often enough; either that or you're doing it wrong."

"You're crude," Marcus said with the suffering of a long time friend.

"No, just drunk." Philip said. "Of course, I now see the reason for your absence of late." Turning to Sabrina he said, "I really should warn you, there will be several ladies deliciously jealous at seeing our dear boy here with you. But then, not a single one of them can compare."

Sabrina smiled. "I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended."

"Flattered," Philip said swaying slightly on his feet. "Definitely flattered. Of course the men will be grateful, myself included. The pickings always improve when Marcus is distracted."

"Well," Sabrina said, "I'm glad I could be of service. I will do my best to keep Marcus occupied and give you the best chance possible before I cut him loose."

Philip threw his head back and laughed. "Oh Marcus, she really is charming. Well done," he said and started off. "Well done!"

Sabrina watched Philip lose himself in the crowd. Turning to Marcus she asked, "Have you known him long?"

Marcus stared down into Sabrina's face. He had to admit he was surprised at well she had handled herself. "We were in school together."

"Ah, I take it that's where your long history of debauchery begins." Sabrina felt herself smile, slight intoxicated by the unfettered gaiety that surrounded them. For the first time she realized that this was what she had been needing -- time unrestrained by the dictates of the ton, her father or her husband. This was the first time she'd felt free to choose a path for herself.

"Indeed," Marcus said taking her arm and leading her towards one of the gaming tables. "Actually, there was a group of us, four or five lads from similar backgrounds. Philip was the ringleader and the one most likely to get us into trouble."

"Hmm...and let me guess, you were the one to get the lot of you out of trouble." Sabrina said.

"Me?" Marcus laughed. "No, I don't have a diplomatic bone in my body - that would be Wilson. I'm sure he's around here somewhere, I'll introduce you later." 

Approaching a table with a vacancy Marcus sat, pulling Sabrina down onto his lap. "Good evening, gentlemen, mind if we join you?"

Sabrina noted a few eyes go wide at the sight of her but no one commented. After a moment of silence - which both she and Marcus pointedly ignored - there came a chorus of warm greetings. 

What followed was a lively game of cards with the participants hurling compliments and complaints equally as fortunes were won and lost. Eventually Marcus ordered them drinks, replacing Sabrina's usual champagne with brandy and watching carefully that she didn't over-indulge.

Up several hundred pounds, Marcus set Sabrina on her feet and stood. "If you'll excuse us, gentlemen, I think we'll be on our way."

"You can't leave, not if you're taking my money with you," cried one inebriated gentleman good-naturedly. "I demand a chance to win my money back!"

"You had your chance," Marcus said with a smile. "You blew both of them."

Sabrina smiled as the table erupted in laughter.

"But the night is young, there's plenty of time..." the man continued.

"Shut up, Harold, can't you see that the man has better things to do than sit here and take all of your money?"

Harold seemed to sober enough to fix his unfocused gaze on Sabrina. "Well, when you put it like that...what the hell are you still doing here man?!"

Marcus shook his head, grabbed Sabrina's hand and led her from the table before the bawdy jokes started. Sabrina rolled her eyes and managed not to blush.

Peering over his shoulder Sabrina asked, "Where are we going?"

"Some place private," Marcus said.

"Here?" Sabrina asked doubtfully, looking around at the crowded ballroom. It seemed that the demimonde had their own crush events with guests arriving late into the night and early morning.

"Here," Marcus said, holding back the curtain covering the entrance to a small alcove and escorting her inside.

Ducking inside, Sabrina's steps slowed and then stopped at the sight of the dimly light space complete with a wide chaise lounge. Her heart beat nervously at the sound of the curtain dropping behind her and she startled at the feel of Marcus' hands wrapping around her waist.

"Easy," Marcus cooed and urged Sabrina further inside.

Sabrina allowed Marcus to steer her towards the chaise before turning in his arms. "Marcus?"

"Hmmm?" Marcus circled Sabrina's waist with his arms, drawing her to him and stopping only when he felt her breasts pressed against his chest. She was tense, holding herself stiff against him. Slow so as not to spook her, Marcus lowered his head and brushed his mouth across her lips. Once, twice -- it was the most delicate of contact meant to entice, encourage her to open up to him. Marcus struggled not to deepen the kiss, to sweep in and demand what she had already promised.

Sabrina sighed at the gentle touch; letting her eyes drift closed she concentrated on the kiss letting herself get swept away on a wave of rising desire. This was no ravishment but a slow, sensual seduction that had her responding as no plundering ever would. Relaxing, she leaned into Marcus enjoying the hard expanse of his chest pressing against her breasts. 

Marcus breathed a silent sigh of relief as Sabrina responded beneath his lips. He had thought to to start his seduction when they returned to his townhouse but found that he couldn't wait. Hours at the gaming table, of her sitting on his lap with her hips pressed intimately against his cock, had driven him from the card table and into this alcove. Just a taste, he promised himself.

Sabrina shivered as Marcus nipped at her bottom lip, gently tugging on it with his teeth before licking the tiny sting away. Unbidden, her lips parted and she was rewarded with the slow slide of his tongue into her mouth. He tasted of liquor, as he always did, but underneath it was a taste she was coming to associated with Marcus. It was dark, sensual and complex - much like the man himself.

Marcus moaned as he slid into the heat of Sabrina's mouth. Her lips were full and soft against his, her tongue coming to touch and mate with his as he explored. His hands, which had been resting at her waist, slid up her back pressing her more firmly against him.

They touched from lip to toe, her breast crushed against his chest while his cock was cradled between her thighs. Marcus wanted her, wanted to feel her breasts in his hands while the taste of her lingered on his tongue. Part of him urged him on, told him to take whatever she was willing to give, while part of him urged caution. Marcus wasn't sure which part of him would triumph.

Sabrina slid her hands up Marcus' chest, over his shoulders and into his hair. Giving into the kiss she met his tongue with her own drawing him into her mouth and sucking. Her breasts had grown heavy, her nipples hard and aching to be touched. Experimentally, she brushed them back and forth against Marcus' chest and groaned in response to the exquisite friction.




English Rose Ch. 05



Marcus felt Sabrina brush up against him and moaned. Releasing her mouth, he kissed hungrily at her chin, following the line of her jaw. Inwardly smiling as her head fell back in silent offering, exposing the long line of her neck and vast expanse of cleavage. 

He watched, mesmerized as the generous swell of her breasts rose and fell with each breath. Lowering his head, Marcus pressed a kiss to the valley of her breasts, his lips brushing against the cold stone of her pendant and feeling a sense of possessiveness at the sight of it laying against her skin. But one kiss wasn't enough, would never be enough. Not taking his eyes from her, Marcus reached up and tug at the front of her dress.

Sabrina couldn't suppress a moan of pure pleasure as her breasts spilled free from her dress and into Marcus' hands. It felt so good to be touched, to watch as he plumped and squeezed her breasts. Fascinated, Sabrina watched as Marcus licked his lips, lowered his head and slowly circled her nipple with his tongue. The moist heat quickly cooled in the night air causing her nipple to draw up tight, almost painful. "Marcus, please."

"Tell me you want my mouth on you," he said, his voice hoarse.

Sabrina whimpered at his blatant words.

Marcus dragged his tongue lightly over her other nipple watching in satisfaction as it grew hard as well. "Tell me what you want."

"Please," Sabrina begged hoping it would be enough.

"Say it," Marcus demanded, one hand reaching up to pluck at the end of her nipple. "Say it!"

"Yes, god, yes! I want your mouth on me," Sabrina cried, nearly sobbing in relief when Marcus latched on to her nipple drawing it deep into his mouth.

Marcus wrapped his lips around Sabrina's nipple and pulled her into his mouth. Immediately, she arched against him pressing her breast firmly against his face. He responded by suckling harder and flicking her with his tongue.

Sabrina whimpered as pull after pull on her nipple caused her clit to throb between her legs. She longed to be touched, needed to be stroked but couldn't yet ask for it.

Marcus moved back and forth between her nipples sucking one deep into his mouth and plucking at the other with his fingertips. Plump and sweet, her nipples filled his mouth like the sweetest of berries ripe and ready for the picking.

Outside their alcove voices could be heard reminding him that they were far from alone and he'd promised himself just a taste. Slowly he gentled his touched, easing back and bringing Sabrina down carefully. When he finally released her breast he looked up to find her watching him with eyes gone bright with desire.

He answered her unspoken question. "I will not take you for the first time in some mad dash to have you in a hidden alcove of a crowded ballroom."

Sabrina blinked and looked around, her sudden blush at having just remembered their present location. "I see," was all she could think to say.

Dipping his head he nuzzled the curve of her neck. Breathing deep, he let himself get lost in the scent of her -- knowing that he would never forget how she smelled with her skin heated in desire. "I had thought to wait until we were somewhere more private but I find myself unable to think with you around."

Sabrina didn't know what to say. She simply wrapped her arms around Marcus and held him. Somehow she knew that he sought comfort, not to restart what they had just finished. "Marcus?" she asked when some time had passed and Marcus remained in her arms. 

"Just give me a minute, love," Marcus said, struggling to rein in his desire. It had been a mistake to start something where he had no intention of finishing it. The feel of her in his arms, the sight of her breasts full and plump had driven him to an edge of desire that was very nearly painful.

Sabrina could feel Marcus' erection pressing hard against her stomach. Thick and swollen, she could feel him even through their combined clothes.

Marcus' cock was hard, throbbing painfully against the confines of his trousers. He could feel himself dripping moisture and knew that the front of him would be damp with desire. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about it except get Sabrina home.

Sabrina held Marcus in place when he would have moved away. Hesitating for the barest of moments, she reached for him distantly noting that her hands shook.

Marcus grabbed Sabrina by the wrist, aware that he was likely hurting her with his grip. "All is lost if you touch me," he warned.

Sabrina's eyes snapped to his face. His usually blue eyes had gone dark and stormy. The dim light of the alcove threw his blonde features into shadows adding a harshness to his jaw and brow. 

Sabrina pushed against Marcus' hold, "I want to touch you," she said.

Marcus groaned at the same time he released her, watching as she reached for him. Her movements were swift and sure reminding him that for all her decency she was married and this was not the first time she'd undressed a man.

Sabrina felt her eyes go wide as Marcus sprung free from his trousers and into the palm of her waiting hand. Instantly, she gripped him, wrapping her fingers around his length and squeezing experimentally. She was rewarded when Marcus threw his head back and thrust forward with his hips.

Running her palm over the crown of his cock, Sabrina gathered his essence and used it to ease his way through her fist. For several minutes she worked him with her grip learning the feel and shape of him and finding the rhythm that gave him the most pleasure.

Marcus was lost as Sabrina worked him to an edge that already seemed dangerously close. Again and again she brought him to the brink only to ease back, allowing him to hold off another moment and enjoy the feel of her hand wrapped around his cock. Fists clenched at his sides, Marcus knew he wouldn't last long. "I can't hold back much longer," he warned.

"I don't want you to," Sabrina said.

Quickly, she shifted. Still holding him in hand, Sabrina reached down with her other hand and gently palmed his sac.

"Tighter," Marcus growled covering her hand on his cock with his own.

Sabrina squeezed tighter watching Marcus' face as he thrust in her hand. One, two, three more strokes and she felt him pulse and explode. 

"Oh god, Sabrina!" Marcus couldn't stop himself, couldn't stop the release that roared up the length of him and burst forth into her hand. 

Sabrina slowed and eventually stopped her movements but didn't immediately release Marcus. Gently, she stroked up and down the length of him giving him every moment of pleasure possible. It was only when he started to soften that she let go.

Marcus stood, hands on hips, and struggled to catch his breath. His chin nearly rested on his chest and his head felt too heavy to lift. Slowly, he opened his eyes to find Sabrina watching him, a look of quiet happiness upon her face. Quickly, he secured himself back in his trousers. "Thank you," he said and brushed a tender kiss across her lips.

"My pleasure," Sabrina said and smiled. She was surprised to find that she took a great deal of satisfaction in watching Marcus enjoy himself. There was no question he was a fabulous lover -- his reputation preceding him. But the look of gratitude made her wonder how many of his lovers took the time to pleasure him. 

Marcus groaned at the look she gave him and kissed her hard. Grabbing her hand, he led them through the crowd and back out to the foyer. No one seemed to notice or care that they were both obviously disheveled, their clothes wrinkled and askew.

The ride back to Marcus' townhouse was quiet but not uncomfortable. They sat close together, Sabrina's hand in his and her head resting on his shoulder. He had been surprised to find that the hour and grown late, their time in the alcove longer then he would have thought.

The carriage rolled to a stop; a moment later Sabrina heard the stairs let down and Marcus move to open the door. Turning to her he asked, "Will you come in?"

Sabrina bit down on her lower lip and hesitated. She knew that she had made a promise and after their time in the alcove Marcus had every right to assume she would spend the remainder of the night with him. Still, she couldn't deny the lingering doubts that continued to plague her. "You'll think me a terrible tease," she said as Marcus waited.

Marcus settled back down on the carriage seat across from Sabrina. "Second thoughts?" he asked.

"About the affair?" Sabrina asked. "No," she said and shook her head. "I had a wonderful time tonight," she said and felt herself flush. "I just...I'm not...the next step is so..." she didn't know what she was trying to say. The carriage ride had given her head time to clear and with it came thoughts of Douglas, their marriage and what it was she wanted. She knew that making love to Marcus would mean crossing some invisible line that once done could never be undone.

Marcus considered Sabrina. "The next step is letting me make love to you." Sabrina nodded in agreement. "It's a step you're not ready for," Marcus said with certainty.

"I'm sorry Marcus," Sabrina said. She hated feeling such conflicting emotions. What's more, Marcus had become something of a friend and she hated to think that she was dragging him into her mess.

"Shhh," Marcus said. Leaning forward, he brushed an errant curl back from her face before cupping her cheek gently. "Never apologize for how you feel or for being honest with me. I would rather you ask me to wait then do something you're not ready for."

Sabrina smiled and rested her cheek more firmly into Marcus' palm. "You'll be patient with me?"

"Love, I expect making love to you to be well worth the wait." Marcus pressed a tender kiss to her lips before drawing back. "I'll have my carriage take you home. There will be time enough later."

"Thank you," Sabrina said softly and watched as Marcus let himself out of the carriage. 

Marcus gave his driver Sabrina's direction and then watched as the carriage rolled away. Hands in his pockets, Marcus wondered at his newfound patience. He'd had lovers refuse him, always in a play to garner more from him then he was willing to give. Those lovers never lasted and he'd never waited to make love to a woman - until Sabrina.

Taking a deep breath, Marcus turned and let himself into his home. Bypassing the library and his usual bottle of booze Marcus went up to bed wondering at the change and afraid of what it might mean.

Not far from Marcus' townhouse Sabrina sighed in relief as she closed the bedroom door behind her. It had been an eventful evening to say the least and she had yet to wrap her head around everything that had happened.

Back in her own home, her time with Marcus took on a dreamlike quality. As if she stood outside herself and had watched it happen. Raising her fingertips to her lips, Sabrina could still feel Marcus' mouth on her, could still taste him and smell him on her clothes. A part of her thrilled at the memory of tonight while another part of her wondered what the hell she was doing?

Pushing away from the door Sabrina went to change into her nightgown and brush out her hair. Turning, the events of the day weighing heavily on her limbs, Sabrina stopped and stared at her empty bed.

Behind her the door to Douglas' chambers remained shut. She had yet to visit his chambers, hadn't wanted to think about him or his admission of love coming at a time of such betrayal. Ah, but she missed him, missed their time together and was dreadfully lonely without him.

Not allowing herself to think, Sabrina spun on her heels and let herself into his room. Immediately, she was assaulted by the sense of Douglas that still lingered in the room. Decorated in rich leather and accented in blues and gold the room echoed the masculine feel of him.

Walking around the room Sabrina let her fingers trail over every available surface stopping here and there to take a closer look at one particular possession or another. It was obvious that the room had been packed in a hurry, his shaving razor having been left behind and a pair of trousers tossed over a chair waiting their master's return. It was also obvious that the room's occupant expected to return and that thought brought Sabrina an unexpected measure of comfort.

Having circled the room, Sabrina stopped at the bottom of Douglas' bed. They'd never shared his bed having spent the first few nights of their marriage in her room before moving to Arlington Park. She wondered if Douglas had ever thought to have her here -- of seeing her spread out on his sheets, her hair upon his pillows. Would he have wanted her in his bed?

Circling the bed, Sabrina knew that Douglas preferred sleeping on the right side of the bed. A fact confirmed by an impression in the mattress and pillows flattened from use. 

Not completely understanding her reasons, Sabrina slipped beneath the covers. Settling herself into the feather mattress, she pulled the blankets up under her chin, took a deep breath of Douglas' lingering scent and closed her eyes.

The next evening Marcus escorted Sabrina to dinner and a show. "A show, not the theater," he clarified but offered up nothing else.

Sabrina had been both surprised and relieved when Marcus sent over a note asking her to join him for the evening. Despite his assurances, she wouldn't have been surprised if he had taken the opportunity to bow out of the affair. 

At the moment Sabrina felt like she had very little to recommend herself. She had made it clear that she wasn't sure when -- or if -- she'd ever be ready to sleep with Marcus. For now all she could guarantee was companionship. She couldn't even promise a repeat performance of their time in the alcove.

For his part Marcus was willing to wait. Sabrina was a charming companion -- one of the few women he'd ever enjoyed out of bed -- and promised to be an amazing lover. While he had no guarantee Sabrina would eventually invite him into her bed he had every intention of encouraging her to do so.

Marcus sat back in his chair and watched as Sabrina took in their surroundings. He was pleased to be back in her company and found that he couldn't keep from stealing small touches.

Sabrina shivered in pleasure as Marcus' fingers brushed the back of a shoulder left bare by the cut of her dress. "What kind of show is this?" she asked.

Marcus smiled. "A variety show."

Surprised, Sabrina blinked and looked around again. She'd heard of variety shows but no lady of good breeding would ever attend. 

They were in a crowded music hall facing the stage with a small section reserved for musicians off to the right. Currently, the red velvet curtain was drawn but occasional shouts could be heard from backstage as the players got ready.

The audience was mostly made up of merchants and young lords. While there were a number of women milling about they all possessed the same world-weary air. Looking around Sabrina noticed that many of the women seemed resolved to be there instead of truly enjoying themselves.

"Shall we go?" Marcus asked. He hadn't missed Sabrina's accurate assessment of the crowd. Most of the young lords were here for the bawdy performances and the easy women. The women were those on a downward slide from prosperity to the poorhouse, desperate to attract the attention of someone wealthy enough to keep them -- even if for only a time. 

Not long ago Marcus wouldn't have been ashamed to admit having taken advantage of more then one woman in such a situation. Now, with Sabrina sitting beside him, he found that he didn't want her to know about that particular point in his life.

"No," Sabrina said. "I want to stay and see the show." This was the world Marcus inhabited and despite the desperate air there was also excitement humming just beneath the surface.

"Good," Marcus said. "Here, this will help."

Sabrina took the flask that Marcus offered and tipped it to her lips. "Oh my," she said blinking against the sudden watering of her eyes. "What is that?"

Marcus laughed and took a swig for himself. "Whiskey, which, while a bit harsh is still better then anything you'll find served here."

Marcus raised one brow in surprise when Sabrina motioned for the flask and took another drink.

Prepared for the burn, Sabrina sipped carefully allowing the heat of the liquor to slide down the back of her throat and settle in her stomach. Within moments a pleasant heat had infused her limbs, the sensation encouraging her to take more.

"Okay," Marcus said taking the flask from Sabrina. "I think that is quite enough of that." He wanted her relaxed, not inebriated.

Sabrina gave him a small pout but any protest died as the curtain went up and the lights went down.

For the next forty minutes Sabrina sat transfixed as act after act crossed the stage. Comedians told bawdy jokes, actors performed spoofs on popular theater performances and one woman did something with feathers that had the crowd on their feet.

As the lights came back up at intermission Sabrina collapsed back in her chair. "Oh my," was all she could think to say.

Marcus laughed. "You are delightful to watch, my dear."

Sabrina cast him a sideways look. "You didn't watch the show?"

Marcus shook his head, "You were much more entertaining. Besides, I've seen any number of variety shows -- one is much the same as the next."

"Then why bring me?" Sabrina asked.

"Because I wanted you to experience it," he said and realized it was true. He wanted to share any number of things with her -- things that no one else would show her. "Come," he said and stood, offering her his hand. "While the booze will make you go blind they serve a meat pie that is quite good."

Sabrina followed Marcus out to the foyer where they found men and women selling food and wine. It was inexpensive, priced for the audience but of decent quality. Marcus directed them to a particular seller and bought them a pie to share. They ate standing, licking grease from their fingers, before returning to their seats.

The second half of the show was shorter and contained a finale that was...revealing...though Sabrina found herself less surprised and able to fight off her usual blush.

This time Marcus didn't bother to ask Sabrina to join him, he had his carriage take her directly home where they shared a long, lingering kiss before he departed.

Once again Sabrina crawled into Douglas' bed, thoughts of variety shows and desperate women filling her head until she fell into a restless slumber.

The night of the variety show marked the beginning of Sabrina's time with Marcus. It was assumed that they would spend their evenings together often dining before heading out to whatever entertainment Marcus had planned for them.

There were shows and house parties, masked balls and horse races. They visited a number of gaming halls and private clubs that catered to the demimonde. Noticeably absent were any ton sanctioned events.

Marcus took Sabrina to places no lady would dare to go and she adored him for it.

Of course, it didn't take long for Douglas to learn about his wife's foray into the demimonde. Within a matter of days everywhere Douglas went someone felt inclined to update him as to the most recent sighting of Sabrina, her name intimately tied to Edington. Finally, Douglas decided to see for himself.

Douglas sent Jared to find out when and where Sabrina was next scheduled to appear. Sitting in his club he stared at the slip of paper Jared had handed him, one eyebrow raised in surprise. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Aye, my lord. Intercepted the note myself, read it before passing it on." Jared said.

"Tonight?" Douglas asked.

Jared nodded. "Edington dismissed most of his staff for the evening and made arrangements with the hostess to grant Lady Radcliff temporary entry."

Douglas ground his teeth. He struggled through anger and the sense that he hadn't the right to be mad. He'd manipulated Sabrina into marriage and couldn't very well blame her for rebelling against him. Still, his sense of logical warred with the knowledge that she was his wife and yet she was conducting a very public affair with another man.




English Rose Ch. 05



"Thank you Jared," Douglas said, dismissing his man.

Across town, Marcus sprawled lazily along the couch in his library, drink in hand waiting for Sabrina. Given their destination, he thought it best she utilized one of the many rooms in his townhouse and his more jaded maid to dress.

Two nights ago Sabrina had surprised him with a request. 

"Marcus?" Sabrina said as they rode home.

"Hmmm?" Marcus was drunker then usual. He felt one of his moods coming on and had hoped to cut it off with a large amount of liquor.

Sabrina had noticed his excessive drinking on more then one occasion and had learned to let it go. During those times she tried to curtail his wilder impulses and get him home in one piece, leaving him to sleep off the worse of it. She was, however, hoping that he might be more agreeable to her request in his current state. "I want you to take me to one of your gentleman's clubs."

"White's doesn't allow women," he said, "not even a future duchess." The nights had grown cold and they rode wrapped in a blanket, the warmth mixing with the booze leaving him lethargic.

"Not White's," Sabrina said. "Purgatory."

Marcus' eyes flew open and snapped to her face. Seeing that she was serious he said emphatically, "No, absolutely not."

"Why not?" Sabrina asked. "You've taken me just about everywhere else."

Marcus frowned, considering. "How the hell did you hear about Purgatory anyways?"

Sabrina gave him a look that effectively told him to stop being an ass. It was a look she had used more the once.

"Westmoreland," he said. "That man really should learn to keep his mouth shut."

"Not just Philip," Sabrina said. "I've heard it mentioned a number of times recently."

"But I would wager never in one of your ballroom's," he said.

"No," Sabrina said with a laugh, "never there." She had learned that Marcus eschewed the ton refusing to have anything to do with it. The one exception had been Lady Mill's summer house party and even that was only once a year.

Marcus weighed the possibilities, considered Sabrina and the location she was asking to go. "I'll take you on one condition," Marcus said, watching her. "You come home with me at the end of the evening."

Sabrina felt her stomach tighten. Despite having shared a number of intimate moments, Sabrina had yet to take Marcus into her bed and for all his talk he'd been unwilling to push. She understood that they were at a point where either the affair progressed or it ended. Feeling a sense of inevitability, Sabrina nodded.

Marcus watched the play of emotions as Sabrina considered his conditions. He still sensed her uncertainty but dismissed it selfishly; he'd been waiting months for this moment. "Very well," Marcus said. "The day after tomorrow I'll send a carriage for you. Don't bother dressing, I'll have something waiting for you at my place and a maid to help you dress."

"Why?" Sabrina asked, unsurprised by Marcus' cryptic orders. It wasn't the first time he'd directed her on getting ready for an unfamiliar event. However, this was the first time he'd gone so far as to see to her clothes and a maid.

"Because," Marcus said, noting that they had arrived at her townhouse. "I know what I'm doing and Purgatory is unlike anything you've experienced thus far."

"How so?" Sabrina said, allowing the footman to help her down.

"Sabrina, most of the demimonde refuses to enter Purgatory," he said, handing her down to the waiting footman and remaining in the carriage. He knew better then to ask to come up.

"Oh," was all she said. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"No," Marcus said; already he knew that the booze wasn't helping. He was in for a long night and tomorrow wouldn't be any better. If he was going to escort her into Purgatory then he needed some time to pull himself together. "Take tomorrow to reconsider, if I don't hear from you then I'll send a carriage for you as we discussed."

Sabrina knew his moods. "Marcus," she said gently, "are you sure you don't want my company?"

Marcus laughed, dark and without humor. "No, I'll be fine."

Sabrina nodded; she knew that when next she saw him Marcus' mood would be lighter, at least temporarily. She just hated knowing that he went through the melancholy alone. "Alright, but you'll send for me if you need anything?"

"Of course," Marcus said though they both knew that he would not.

Two nights later Marcus sent his carriage as promised. "Good evening," he said as she walked into his study. 

Sabrina crossed over to Marcus. Noting his pale color, she reached up and cupped his face in her hands. Running her thumbs across the lingering circles beneath his eyes she asked, "That bad?"

"I'm fine," Marcus said, taking one of her hands and pressing a kiss to her palm. "I promise."

Sabrina nodded, knowing that he didn't like it when she fussed. "Is that for me?" she asked, indicating the large white box on the couch.

"It is," Marcus said with a wicked smile. "I hope you like it." Walking over he opened the box and pulled out the dress, a cascade of silk falling from his hands.

The dress...if one could call that a dress...was simple. Made of black silk it lacked any color or lace. There was no trim, no buttons or edging to take away from the stark lines. There was also no way she could wear a corset or any other undergarments without ruining the lay of the lines. Sabrina felt her throat tighten at the same time her excitement kicked up a notch. "Marcus, it's beautiful."

He was pleased with her response to the dress. With no time to order something made, Marcus had sent a request to the demimonde's most notorious dressmaker and had her send something over. He had wondered briefly if Sabrina would be offended at the dress; it was clearly a dress intended for a courtesan and not for a lady. Setting it aside, he pulled Sabrina into his arms and started down into her face. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course!" she said. "Stop worrying."

Marcus searched her face for a moment and noted a lightness that hadn't been there before - as if she'd come to a decision and was able to rest easy. Satisfied, he handed her the dress and escorted her to the door. Outside, a maid stood waiting. "Maggie, please help the lady dress."

"Aye, my lord." Maggie said leading Sabrina upstairs and into one of the guest rooms.

An hour later they slipped out of Marcus' townhouse and into the night. Maggie had helped her into the dress, the sight of herself leaving Sabrina breathless. The silk clung to every curve of her breasts, hips and thighs before sliding to circle her ankles. A sharp V cut at the neck dipped between the swell of her breasts while the short sleeves left her arms bare. Marcus had advised against jewelry, other then her pendant, and told her to let her hair down. A simple pair of slippers and a black cloak completed the outfit.

Even Marcus had been unprepared for the effect of Sabrina in that dress, her hair down about her waist. He very nearly tossed her over his shoulder and carried her back upstairs. Only the thought of what awaited them at Purgatory convinced him to follow through with their plans for the evening.

Marcus insisted that they leave by way of the coachman's alley behind the townhouse. He also made sure that the hood of her cloak was pulled forward and the material wrapped around her tight. From afar it would be hard to make out the identity of his companion.

Sabrina let him lead her down the alley, around the corner and up two streets before stopping to call for a hackney. She had no delusions and was well aware of the reason behind all his care. If ever word was to get out among the ton that she had attended a gentleman's club there would be no repairing her reputation and her station as a future duchess would mean squat.

Marcus quickly helped Sabrina into the carriage before quietly giving the driver the name of their destination. It was only once they were on their way that he was able to sit back and relax.

"I'm sorry, Marcus." Sabrina's voice came quietly from the seat beside him. "I didn't stop to think how much of a responsibility I was putting on you. If you'd rather we can return home and have a quiet evening just the two of us."

Marcus looked down to where she sat beside him. Even with the dim light in the carriage he could tell from her face that her offer was sincere. He knew that there would be no tears or bitterness if he changed his mind and took her home. Unlike many of his past companions, Sabrina didn't stoop to theatrics. "No," he said with a smile. "It's too late for that, I've spent the better part of today thinking about all of the things I'm going to enjoy showing you tonight."

Sabrina laughed lightly and with pleasure. "Excellent."

The rest of the drive was quiet. Sabrina watched as the fashionable part of London slipped away. They passed several of their peers' homes; some dark, their occupants already out for the evening, while others were near to bursting with light and activity. 

It was a short ride. Marcus stepped down and paid the driver, a generous tip ensuring that the man kept quiet about this particular fare. Reaching back into the carriage he offered Sabrina his hand. "Are you ready?"

Sabrina looked up and smiled. "Yes." 

Stepping down onto the sidewalk Sabrina caught her first sight of Purgatory. There was nothing to indicate that this was anything other then a nondescript business. The building in front of her was perhaps the largest on the block, made of brick and standing four stories tall. There were no signs indicating its origins, no loud lords lingering along the sidewalk and no sounds from within reached the street.

Looking up and down the block Sabrina noted that they were in a quiet section of town on the bordered between the residential and business district. 

Marcus gave her a moment to look around before offering his arm. "Come, we should get inside." Together they started up the stairs, sailing through the front door as it opened to admit them. 

"Good evening, Sir." Winston gave Marcus a slight bow.

"Good evening, Winston." Marcus slipped out of his overcoat before helping Sabrina with her cloak. "Winston, this is my guest for the evening."

Winston bowed to Sabrina. "Ma'am."

Sabrina caught his eye and noted not a glimmer of recognition. Either he truly did not know who she was or he was superbly trained not to show it. "Good evening." Turning back to Marcus, she followed him down a narrow hallway and into a small, quietly lit sitting room; but for one man it was deserted.

Marcus drew her close and whispered into her ear. "There are a few things you should know. Beyond this room is the dungeon, for use by all members and their guests. There are also smaller, specialty rooms for those with particular...tastes...and rooms upstairs for private couples and smaller groups.

"Within the dungeon anything goes though it is customary not to interrupt another's scene without express invitation. If someone offers something you're not interested in a polite 'no thank you' is all that is required. However, that pendant marks you as mine so you shouldn't have to worry. If you see something you like - tell me. 

"There are no names at Purgatory; everyone goes by either 'Sir' or 'Ma'am' or some other generic form of address. The staff can be identified by the collars they wear and are off limits unless otherwise negotiated with the Host or Hostess. The Host and Hostess manage the club; they are here to see that all requests are accommodated as much as possible as well as to ensure everyone's safety. 

"There are guards posted throughout the establishment in case of trouble. Do not speak to them. You are to remain with me at all times, is that understood?" 

Sabrina nodded her head, a spark of apprehension blooming in her chest. Marcus gave her hand a squeeze, "Are you ready?"

Sabrina looked past Marcus to the door behind him. Muffled noises had begun to emerge -- all of them unfamiliar - but despite her apprehension something in the air seemed to pull at her. Looking back up at Marcus, she noted his reassuring gaze and nodded. "I'm ready."

Marcus smiled. "Good," he said and together they stepped into Purgatory. 

Sabrina felt her eyes go wide and her breath catch at her first sight of Purgatory. Unlike a London ballroom, the dungeon wasn't crowded but it was busy. Spread out before her men and women moved in a sea of flesh, sweat glistening in the light of carefully placed candles and oil lamps. Clever use of furniture - none of it like anything Sabrina had seen before - created separate spaces while maintaining an overall open feel. 

"Oh my," she whispered breathlessly.

Marcus stared down at Sabrina, feeling the first dark tendril of desire at seeing her flushed face. In the back of his mind he knew that she was better then this, that Purgatory was no place for a woman like Sabrina. Yet, there existed within him a darkness that wanted to see her here, that needed her to watch as he gave over to that darkness. 

"This is just the beginning," Marcus promised.

Sabrina looked up into eyes gone dark with desire. For the first time since their relationship began Sabrina sensed that she was seeing the real Marcus. This was the man that had made a reputation as a rake and a rogue. Something inside warned her that tonight he might not be so easily controlled. Speaking to his unasked question she said, "Show me the rest."

Douglas felt his heart hammer hard in his chest as Sabrina stepped into the dungeon. He'd arrived about an hour ago and took up his place across for the entrance. From there he could watch the comings and goings without being seen. The look on his face enough to ensure that staff and members alike gave him a wide berth. 

Douglas soaked up the sight of Sabrina like a man lost in the desert. It was the first time he'd seen his wife since she'd left him and she was more beautiful then he remembered. Her features appeared sharper, her jaw stronger and her eyes set with determination. But outlining it all was a sense of peace he didn't remember seeing before. 

He'd been surprised and then furious at learning of their destination. He was well aware of the fact that Edington was a frequent visitor to Purgatory, the establishment matching the man's melonchaly moods perfectly. But there was no excuse for bringing Sabrina to such a place.

Douglas had joined the club while still in his youth and hadn't been back in years. Like most men, he was a member of several clubs though in truth attended only a few on a regular basis. Purgatory catered to a very special clientele and while there were pleasures to be had Douglas found that he preferred to engage in this sort of thing in private.

As he watched, Marcus started escorting Sabrina around the room. Slipping out of the shadows, Douglas followed at a discrete distance. He wondered briefly at Edington's plans for the evening and whether or not he'd be able to stand by and watch. 

Sabrina let Marcus lead her about the room, occasionally stopping to get a better look at some of the available activities. "Tell me if you see anything you like," Marcus had whispered in her ear.

In truth Sabrina wasn't sure what to make of it all. Certainly there were things that intrigued her - the flogger for one and who knew a riding crop wasn't only for horses? - but no matter how adventurous she might be Sabrina didn't see herself engaging in any of these things, not in public anyways. 

"Good evening." Sabrina turned at the greeting and watched as a beautiful young woman approached her and Marcus. "I trust you are enjoying yourself?" she asked.

Marcus wrapped his arm around Sabrina's waist and pulled her close. "Love, this is our Hostess for the evening, Lady Jade."

Sabrina blinked in surprise. Lady Jade wasn't what she had been expecting. She was young and beautiful with blond hair, crystal blue eyes and babydoll lips. She looked like she belonged in a London ballroom - not running one of the most notorious clubs in the city.

Lady Jade smiled and Sabrina realized she'd been staring. "I beg your pardon," she said. 

"No worries," Lady Jade said. "I get that a lot with new members and guests." Turning to Marcus she said, "It's nice to see you again, my lord. Now I see what has been keeping you away."

"Indeed," Marcus said noncommittally. "Thank you for granting my request for a guest this evening."

"How could I now?" she asked rhetorically. "Now, if you'll follow me I have your room ready."

"Room?" Marcus asked surprised.

"Ah, that would be my doing," Sabrina said. Marcus turned to her, brow raised in question. "After you agreed to escort me I sent a note requesting a few...special accommodations for this evening."

"How did you know such thing could be done?" he asked. Once again Sabrina gave him that look, the one that suggested he stop being so thick. "I'm going to kill him," he growled.

Lady Jade laughed. "After you see what the lady has in store for you I hope you will thank whoever it is."

Marcus didn't bother arguing and after a moment's hesitation gave a brief nod. Offering Sabrina his arm, the two of them followed Lady Jade from the dungeon. 

Douglas watched as Edington escorted Sabrina from the room. It was all he could do to keep from stepping forward and whisking his wife away. There was only one reason to speak with the Hostess and that was to acquire a private room. Grabbing a passing servant, Douglas pulled her close. "See the couple over there?" At the young woman's nod, Douglas continued, "I want to know where they're going."

"Sir, I don't know..." she started.

"Find out and then take me there," Douglas ordered.

"Sir," she said, "I'm sure you're aware of the club's policy..."

Douglas leaned down and pinned her with his eyes, "You know who I am."

The young woman nodded.

"And you know who that woman is, yes?" Douglas asked.

"Yes, Sir."

"Then you understand why I'm asking." Douglas said. "Whatever the cost of the information, double it."

The young woman considered refusing but one look at the man's face told her that if she didn't discreetly take him where he wanted to go he'd likely turn over every room until he found what he was looking for. "Follow me," she said.

Amused and curious, Marcus followed Sabrina and the Hostess upstairs. He'd been surprised when Lady Jade first approached. As Hostess she was well known to the members though she rarely interacted with any of them directly. Her job was to ensure that everyone received what they needed and that the club remained discreet. It was said that she had started her career out as a serving girl before becoming one of the club's most sought after Mistresses and eventually Hostess. It was also said that she no longer saw clients, if she took someone to her bed it was at her pleasure.

Lady Jade indicated a room on the right, addressing her comment to Sabrina she said, "You'll find that all of your arrangements have been ordered as requested. Enjoy."

"Thank you," Sabrina said. She waited until Lady Jade disappeared down the hall before turning and opening the door. 

Marcus followed Sabrina inside stopping in surprise at the sight of the young woman kneeling in the center of the room. "What's this?" he asked.

"My gift to you," Sabrina said from behind him.

Turning, Marcus found her leaning back against the closed door. "What did I do to deserve this," he asked.

Sabrina reached out and drew him to her, resting her hands against his chest she said, "Marcus, my time with you has been wonderful. You've given me something that I didn't know I needed. But," she said, looking up into his face, "I fear that I've gone as far in this affair as I can."

Marcus searched her face for understanding. "This is goodbye then?"




English Rose Ch. 05



"Never goodbye," she said. "I care for you too much and would consider myself lucky to call you a friend but I have to go back."

"To Radcliff?" he asked.

Sabrina nodded. "I think you always knew that I would, even when I did not."

Marcus nodded. Resting his forehead against hers, he said, "I will miss you."

"And I you, though I meant what I said, you have become very dear to me..."

Marcus cut her off. "There is no way Radcliff will allow a friendship between us to continue."

"I don't plan to ask his permission," Sabrina said. "Things between me and Douglas are...complicated and I don't anticipate they will get easier any time soon. I'm not even sure he'll have me back," she admitted.

"Of that I have no doubt," Marcus assured her. He realized that for the first time he wasn't ready for an affair to end, and not just because he hadn't slept with her yet. Sabrina had come to mean more to him then even he had realized and he was sad to see her go. It was inevitable, he had always known that she would never be his, but that didn't make it any easier. "So," he said, changing the subject, "she is to stand in as surrogate for you?"

Sabrina smiled, appreciating that Marcus was allowing her to end the affair with grace. "I thought it was the least I could do."

Reaching up, Sabrina went to release the clasp on her necklace intending to return the beautiful pendant to Marcus.

"Don't," Marcus said and stopped her with a gentle touch on her wrist. "I don't want to watch you take it off." Smiling a little sadly he said, "It would mean a lot to me if you would keep it. Even if you never wear it again just knowing that you have it as a token of our time together..."

"Of course," Sabrina said feeling the sting of tears at the back of her eyes. "I will treasure it."

Marcus pushed away from the door; turning, he studied the young woman that up until then had gone largely unnoticed. Her collar marked her as the property of the club and was the only thing she wore. 

She knelt patiently, her knees slightly parted and her palms resting on the tops of her thighs. Marcus circled her slowly stopping behind her to reach down and stroke her head. He noted the way her blond hair hung down to tickle the top of her buttocks. "Very nice," he said, feeling her shiver in response to his touch. 

Meanwhile, Douglas followed the young woman as she led him through the dungeon and under the stairs. She checked the hall making sure that no one witnessed their departure before opening a hidden door and leading him through.

They stood in a narrow hall that effectively ran behind the walls of the main room, a set of stairs leading up to the second floor. She took the stairs quickly, her bare feet silent as she led the way. It wasn't long before she came to a halt, pressed her eye to a small hole in the wall and stepped back. "In there," she said.

He knew that the peepholes were primarily used to ensure the staff's safety when seeing new clients. All members were warned of their existence and their uses when applying for membership. It's how Douglas knew that they were there.

Taking a step forward, Douglas braced his hands on either side of the hole and hesitated. "Leave me," he ordered.

The young woman turned and fled.

Douglas waited until the patter of her feet disappeared down the hall before finally pressing his eye to the hole. He was unprepared for the sight that awaited him.

Edington had Sabrina pressed up against the door, his lower body holding her firmly in place with their heads pressed close together. Behind them, kneeling in the center of the room was a young woman, naked but for the collar she wore. The low murmur of voices reached his ears but he was too far away to make out the details of their conversation.

As he watched, Edington pushed away from the door and turned to the young woman. The evening's events clear, Douglas turned to go - he'd seen all he needed to see. It was enough to know that it was time to do something about his wife.

Marcus circled back around until he once again stood in front of the young woman. He didn't bother asking her name, he didn't much care, but he did ask, "What are your services?"

The young woman looked up, "All of them, sir."

Marcus smiled. "Excellent, now, release me," he ordered and watched as she reached for him. Quick, sure movements had him springing from his trousers and into her hand. Rising up onto her knees, she stroked once down the length of him, wrapping her fingers around the base of his shaft before taking him into her mouth.

Despite her innocent good looks her experience was evident as she used hands and mouth, lips and tongue to pleasure him. She cupped his sac gently with one hand while sliding up and down on his cock, her lips applying the right amount of pressure without a hint of teeth. Staring down at the top of her head, Marcus watched as his cock slid in and out of her mouth. It didn't take long for him to find himself on the verge of his first release. "Enough," he said, watching as she slid off his cock, licking her lips and sitting back on her heels.

"Your services," he began, "do they extend to the lady?" At her nod he reached back and held out his hand to Sabrina. He waited, thinking she only meant to watch, when he finally felt her slip her slender hand into his.

Pulling her to him, he was pleased when the young woman stood without being told and stepped up behind Sabrina. He enjoyed the power dynamics of dominance and submission but at times like this preferred an active participant.

Sabrina slid her hands up Marcus' chest, pushing his jacket off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor behind him. In between stripping him of his cravat and shirt she felt small hands reach down and begin gathering her dress. It didn't take long before the three of them stood in the center of the room naked.

Sabrina shivered at the contrasting sensations of Marcus' hard chest in front of her and the young woman's soft breasts at her back. She had never imagined she would find herself in the center of things but had only hoped to give Marcus a gift for all that he had done for her.

"Are you alright?" Marcus asked, ignoring the woman standing behind Sabrina's shoulder.

"Yes," Sabrina whispered. "I'm not sure what you want me to do," she admitted.

"Just enjoy yourself," he said. "I'll take care of the rest."

Sabrina nodded and allowed herself to be led over to the bed. Once there, the three of them crawled onto the mattress, the bed big enough to accommodate their unusual number. 

Once again, Sabrina found herself in the center of things, this time with Marcus laying on one side and the woman on the other. Marcus was long and lean beside her, his erection pressed firmly against her hip. The young woman was soft and sensual, her breasts pressed against Sabrina's arm. 

Sabrina had asked the Hostess to chose a young woman likely to cater to Marcus' preferences; since she didn't know what they were in this particular instance she'd had to trust the other woman. It would seem that Lady Jade had chosen well.

In unison, both Marcus and the young woman reached for Sabrina. Their hands trailed across her stomach, up over her ribs and around to the underside of her breasts. Marcus' hand was big and strong, easily cupping Sabrina's generous breast while the young woman's hand was small and delicate. Both of them seemed to enjoy fondling her, palming her breasts between them before moving to play with her nipples. 

Moaning softly, her hands grasping at the sheets beneath them, Sabrina felt her breasts grow heavy. A moment later and her back arched off the bed as each took a nipple deep into their mouths. They sucked and pulled at her nipples, each one doing something different, one accentuating the other. 

Sabrina tried turning towards Marcus only to feel his hand pressing her chest back into the bed. Assured that she would remain, Marcus slid his hand down the valley of her breasts across the flat plane of her stomach to the apex of her thighs. "Open for me," he whispered against her breast.

Sabrina obeyed, his fingers leaving hot trails along the inner side of her thigh as they made their way up into her folds. "Oh, yes," he said at find her wet and swollen. 

Sabrina instinctively spread her thighs wider, drawing her knees up and pressing her feet flat to the bed. Marcus stroked her with long, strong fingers parting her folds and dipping into her core before caressing her clit. He touched her with the knowledge of a lover, each stroke drawing her tighter and closer to the edge of release.

Her body practically vibrating, Sabrina felt the bed shift and the young woman settle between her thighs. Opening her eyes, she watched in fascination as the young woman lowered her head first licking at Marcus' fingers before setting her lips to Sabrina's folds. 

It was Sabrina's turn to be on the receiving end of the young woman's expertise as she used hands and mouth to explore. With her fingers, the young woman parted Sabrina's folds before dipping her tongue into her core. Drawing her way up Sabrina's slit, she stopped only when she reached Sabrina's clit, sucking it gently into her mouth before suckling and stroking it with her tongue.

Feeling the bed shift again, Sabrina looked up, watching as Marcus positioned himself behind the young woman, kneeling between her thighs.

Marcus grabbed the young woman by her hips pulling her ass up into the air. With one hand holding her still he reached down, grabbed his cock and ran it up and down between her legs. She was wet and swollen, her juices coating his cock and preparing his way.

Sabrina felt the young woman moan against her pussy, sending a unfamiliar vibration across her already swollen clit and causing her to shuddered. Above her, Marcus had positioned himself at the young woman's entrance and started sliding forward, his eyes locked on Sabrina's face. 

"I wanted this to be you," he whispered and thrust home letting his eyes close and his head fall back.

Marcus didn't stop with one thrust, he pulled out nearly to the end and thrust home again and again, each thrust of his hips pressing the young woman's face firmly into Sabrina's pussy. The young woman moaned and pressed back against him, meeting each of his thrust and drawing him deeper into her body. 

Marcus hadn't fucked a woman since he started seeing Sabrina. Despite their intimate embraces there was nothing quite like burying one's cock into a hot, wet pussy and he wanted this to last. Carefully, he lengthened his strokes, sliding in and out and enjoying the sensation of her body taking him in. When the pleasure got to be too much he would pick up his pace, thrusting in hard, his sac slapping against her nether lips and coating him in her juices.

Looking down, he watched as Sabrina twisted beneath the young woman. Her body was tight and he could see that she was close. Bending over the young woman's back, his hips still thrusting slowly, Marcus whispered in her ear, "Fuck her with your fingers." 

Sabrina heard him, her eyes going wide as the young woman slipped first one then two fingers deep inside of her. She couldn't take her eyes off Marcus as he leaned back, grabbed the woman by her hips and started thrusting in earnest. She knew that he was close, could see from the look on his face that he intended to ride this one to the end.

Marcus drove his cock in and out of the woman's pussy, watching as each thrust of his hips pushed her fingers deeper into Sabrina. For a moment he was able to close his eyes and imagine that it was Sabrina he drove himself into. The thought threw him over the edge, his sac drawing up tighter and causing his cock to empty itself deep inside the woman.

Sabrina watched Marcus throw his head back and roar in release, the sight causing her body to tighten hard before shattering. "Oh god," she moaned as her release hit her, causing her back to arch and her eyes to close.

A moment later and the mattress gave beneath her as Marcus and the woman collapsed on either side of her. She was barely aware of Marcus pulling her into his arms or the young woman curling up beside her as her eyes closed and she slept.

Sometime later Sabrina woke to find Marcus watching her. "Thank you," he said.

Slowly he reached for her, sliding across the bed to cover Sabrina with his body and pressing her down into the mattress. 

Sabrina struggled not to open her legs, to keep from cradling Marcus between her thighs, as he kissed her. He didn't pressure her, simply held himself above her kissing her with a need she'd never known he possessed. For the first time Sabrina realized how much of himself Marcus had held back.

Marcus poured every bit of his desire for her into his kiss and allowed himself the luxury of feeling her body pressed beneath him. Her breasts were firm pillows beneath his chest, the heat from between her legs scorching his groin. He fought against the urge to thrust his hips forward, to beg and seek entrance. Somehow, in that moment, he knew she'd grant him passage - and then hate them both for it in the morning. 

Marcus lifted his head and stared down into Sabrina's flushed face. Her lips were wet and swollen, her eyes bright. Raising himself up onto his arms, Marcus slid off Sabrina and onto the young woman still sharing their bed. 

Sabrina rolled with Marcus and watched as he slowly entered the young woman for a second time. Both of them moaning in pleasure, they started a slow thrust and slide that had Marcus rolling his hips and the woman arching up to meet him.

She didn't reach out to them, didn't try to include herself in their love making. Sabrina simply watched, enjoying the sight of Marcus lost in a pleasure she wasn't able to give him. This was the best she could do for him - the one moment she would ever share with him.

Marcus watched Sabrina as he thrust forward his eyes locked on her face. Beneath him the young woman moved, her hips arching up to welcome the long, slow thrust of his cock. She was wet and tight, the walls of her passage gripping him as he moved in and out of her body. Her hands slid from his forearms, up over his shoulders and down his back to his buttocks. Digging in, she pulled him more firmly into her body urging him on. Marcus answered by lengthening his strokes and thrusting harder, deeper with his hips until he reached up and touched her womb. Instantly he was rewarded by a fresh rush of wetness and the tightening of her passage. 

"More," she whispered.

Still not taking his eyes from Sabrina, Marcus thrust faster, harder, deeper - again and again until the woman cried out in release. Marcus' thrust became hurried, nearly frantic at the feel of all that warm, wet heat contracting around him. The sensation of her orgasm gripping at his cock nearly caused him to lose his rhythm and in the end was what sent him soaring into his own release. This time his orgasm didn't cause him to close his eyes but instead sent him forward crushing his mouth down onto Sabrina sealing her lips in a kiss as he came.

When the last of the tremors passed, Marcus collapsed onto the young woman beneath him. Distantly, he wondered if he might be crushing her.

Sabrina watched as Marcus collapsed before moving to roll away, surprised when he reached out and grabbed her wrist roughly. Still laying between the young woman's thighs he said, "Don't go."

"I'm not," Sabrina assured him. "I thought to make room for you." She indicated the space between her and the young woman, watching as Marcus nodded and slid over.

The three of them lay quietly, no one speaking as the night grew old and the morning drew close. Finally, Sabrina watched Marcus' eyes close in sleep, the woman behind him already snoring softly.

She didn't know how long she lay there watching him sleep, her mind replaying many of their nights together. It was only as the night started to lighten that she rose and dressed quietly, careful not to disturb the others.

Cloak in hand, Sabrina stepped to the side of the bed and stared down at Marcus' face. She'd never seen him relaxed in sleep and was pleased to see that he looked almost peaceful. Carefully, she brushed a soft kiss across his mouth, "Goodbye, my love," she said.

Slipping from the room she was pleased to see the escort she'd ordered waiting for her. Quietly, he led her downstairs, through the front door and into the waiting carriage. A quick rap on the side sent the driver off towards home.

Sitting back, Sabrina considered what to do next. Yesterday, while waiting for Marcus, she had come to the realization that she wanted to be with her husband. She missed Douglas; she missed his laugh and the way she felt when she was with him. She was still unsure as to the state of their marriage but knew that she'd never figure it out if she didn't spend time with him. 

Lost in thought, Sabrina didn't notice when the driver turned down a small side street taking them into a deserted section of town. It was only as the carriage came to a halt that she looked out and found herself in a completely unfamiliar part of town. "Driver?"

Jumping at the sound of the carriage door being thrown open, Sabrina gave a startled cry as a hand reached in and yanked her out. Instincts kicking in, Sabrina tried to kick out at her attacker only to find herself wrapped tightly in his arms.

"Hello, wife."

"Douglas?" Sabrina said, surprise causing her to freeze only to renew struggling as he pressed a sickly sweet smelling cloth to her nose. Taking a deep breath to scream, Sabrina inhaled deeply and the world went black.

To be continued...



English Rose Ch. 06



Sabrina swam up from the darkness. Her movements felt slow, her arms and legs heavy as she tried to break the surface. It took her several minutes to realize that her eyes were closed and that she was spread out on a soft mattress. Opening her eyes, she looked around and groaned. 

"Not again," she muttered, instantly recognizing the familiar suite at Westhaven. As her gaze traveled the room her eyes landed on the man sitting in a chair beside the bed. "Douglas."

"Sabrina."

"I think I'm going to be sick," she said. Sabrina tried to roll off the side of the bed but the world tilted sharply.

Douglas caught his wife before she fell and managed to get her to the chamber pot in time. Shifting her slightly, he held her hair back from her face and rubbed her back until the moment passed. Once he was sure she was done he carried her to a chair near the fireplace and went to put the chamber pot out in the hall. Tugging on the bell pull, he summoned a servant and requested a towel and wine.

"My apologies," he said, "an unfortunate side effect of the sleeping aid."

Sabrina nodded but didn't say anything. Her stomach still reeled but she knew there was nothing left to throw up. Anxious about her evening, she'd eaten little before joining Marcus at his townhouse. 

A moment later a maid arrived with a warm towel, a carafe of wine and a plate of dry toast. "To help settle the lady's stomach," she said before hurrying from the room.

Douglas gave a stiff nod and settled back to wait while Sabrina washed her face. When she was done he offered her a glass of wine and indicated that she help herself to the toast. "Later I'll have something more substantial prepared for you."

Sabrina nodded. Nibbling the toast she watched Douglas and waited. He seemed thoughtful, not exactly content with the silence but in no rush to speak either. Finally, unable to stand the silence, she asked, "Douglas, why did you bring me here?"

"I thought it was time we talked," he said.

"You couldn't just request an audience?" she asked, surprised that she wasn't more put out by his tactics. 

"Would you have granted me one?" he asked.

"Yes," Sabrina replied softly and set aside her uneaten toast. Her stomach still reeled but she suspected it had less to do with the sleeping draught and more to do with Douglas. 

"After what I saw last night I find that hard to believe," Douglas said.

Sabrina's eyes snapped to his face. "What did you see?"

"Enough," Douglas said. "I had thought to bring you here, to convince you to come back to Arlington Park with me but I fear it may be too late for that."

Sabrina swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. "You think it's too late? For us?"

"I think you've made it very clear that you have no desire to be with me, that our marriage is not something you wish to recognize," Douglas said, feeling a tremendous pain at his own words.

"That's not true," Sabrina said, her heart clenching. "I do! At least, I think I do...it's just that...I don't know, everything has gotten so complicated and I know that I'm responsible for a large part of that..."

God, she was babbling but didn't know how to stop herself. She had never thought that, having made her decision, it might be too late. 

"Have you given any thought to returning to me?" Douglas asked, knowing he risked revealing himself in the question.

"Yes!" Sabrina admitted. 

"Why?" Despite telling himself to be careful, not to hope for too much, Douglas needed to know.

"I've missed you," she said, "and I wanted to know if there was anything real between us."

"You didn't seem to miss me much last night," he said, clearly hurt and angry over her affair.

"Last night was goodbye," she said. "I had already ended the affair when you grabbed me."

Douglas laughed humorlessly. "If that was goodbye I hate to think what the rest of your affair was like."

Sabrina looked away, "I'm sorry Douglas; it was never my intent to hurt you."

"What did you think would happen?" he snapped. "It seems every where I went people felt the need to recite your latest escapades with Edington."

"Which was hurt worse," she countered, "your feelings or your pride?" Meeting Douglas' narrowed gaze she held up a hand in surrender. "I don't want to fight with you Douglas and I certainly don't want to sit here exchanging barbs."

"What do you want?" Douglas asked.

"I want the marriage I thought I had," Sabrina answered honestly. 

"Our marriage wasn't a lie," Douglas said. "My feelings for you were real."

"Maybe," Sabrina said slowly. "I'm not arguing with you," she continued when she saw Douglas start to speak. "But do you have any idea what it's like to wake up and realize that you'd been manipulated and lied to, that everything you thought you knew was just wrong?"

"No," Douglas admitted. "I know I should have told you the truth but you said it yourself, you wouldn't have married me if you'd known."

"Maybe not," Sabrina said, "but that doesn't justify what you did."

"No, it doesn't," Douglas said. "I don't know what you want from me. There are only so many ways I can say I'm sorry."

"I don't want your apologies," Sabrina said. "I want you to understand how much you hurt me!"

"You don't think I've hurt over the past few months? That I didn't feel betrayed and angry?" Douglas stood and paced around the room. 

"I didn't have an affair in order to hurt you," Sabrina said. "It wasn't about revenge."

"What did you hope to accomplish?" Douglas asked.

"I wasn't trying to accomplish anything. I just needed...I don't know, to make my own decisions - to live my own life and feel in control for once. I went from being my father's daughter to a woman that had been raped and had her only future taken away from her. Then you came along and you knew I couldn't say no, that I would be hard pressed to marry you."

Sabrina was quiet for a moment, not looking away from Douglas, she said, "I think one of the things that infuriated me the most was finding out that you'd known all along - who I was, what had happened here - all of it and never said anything. That and finding out by accident, knowing that you didn't have the...decency...to tell me yourself."

Douglas felt pain at her words, not for himself but for Sabrina and what he had done to her.

"I know that none of that justifies what I did, how I reacted," she admitted. "I think that something inside of me just snapped."

"I can't go back," Douglas said, "I can't undo what has been done but I would like a chance to make it up to you. Do you think there is a chance for us?" he asked.

"I hope so," Sabrina answered honestly. "Because regardless of how we ended up together I did come to care for you."

"Do you still?" Douglas asked.

"Yes," Sabrina said slowly. "At least, I think I do. It's hard to know, to trust that what I feel is real but I did miss you and I have to believe that not everything was a lie."

Douglas nodded, it wasn't the declaration of love he wanted but it was perhaps the best he could expect at the moment. Feeling as if they had come to a place from which they could move forward, he asked, "Will you come with me to Arlington Park?"

Sabrina nodded in agreement. "I need to return to London, to gather my things and collect my maid."

"No," Douglas said, and indicated a bag at the foot of the bed. "You can send word to your maid, she can pack up the rest of your things and travel with them to Arlington Park."

Sabrina was surprised by his curt response. Standing, she went to see what the bag contained. Opening it, she felt herself flush at the sight of her nightgown laying on top. "Who packed my bag?"

"I did." Douglas answered. Recognizing that he may very well undo what progress had been made, he still had to ask, "Is there a reason why I found your nightgown in my room, on my bed?"

Sabrina struggled against the embarrassment at having been caught. "Because I took to sleeping in there."

His voice low and careful, he asked, "You took Edington into my bed?" If that was the case then he would have the thing burned.

"No!" Sabrina cried and spun around to face him. "No. I never invited Marcus into the house, let alone your bed - or mine," she added softly.

Douglas' eyes narrowed. "Never?"

Embarrassed, Sabrina let her eyes slide from his face. "I never slept with Marcus."

"I find that very, very hard to believe." Douglas said. "Especially after last night..."

Sabrina blushed hard at the reminder.

"The guilt is written all over your face," Douglas pointed out, wondering why she would try and lie about the affair.

"If you were there then you know I didn't sleep with Marcus," she said. "I slept with the woman."

Douglas stood speechless, a moment later feeling a gut punch of lust at the image of Sabrina with the young blond from Purgatory. "I..." he had to stop and clear his throat. "I didn't stay for the entire show," he said.

"Oh," Sabrina said, grateful for small favors. "Well..." Turning, she busied herself with folding her nightgown and putting it back into her bag.

"Sabrina," Douglas said softly, "tell me about the affair."

Without looking at him, she asked, "Do you really want to know?"

"No," he said with a sigh, "but I think it's best if we get everything out into the open now."

Sabrina nodded but was quiet for a long time. "I met Marcus again this summer out at the Mills'. I never intended to have an affair," she said. "I went there because, at the time, I had no place else to go. I couldn't stay in London and I wasn't ready to face my father. Marcus was there and he was...well, he was Marcus. He's moody and charming and he was always honest about exactly what he wanted from me." She tried to find a way to express what it was that Marcus had done for her. "In the beginning he was a distraction. He kept me entertained, which kept me from thinking too much. After a while we became friends and then...more."

"But you never slept with him?" Douglas asked, still not sure if he believed her.

"No," Sabrina said, catching the note of doubt in his voice. "That's not to say that we didn't share some intimate moments," she added. "But I...I just couldn't. Not until I knew how I felt about you and our marriage."

Douglas didn't ask her to elaborate on just what those intimate moments were. He was relieved to hear that she hadn't slept with Edington. He could forgive her just about anything, even that, but it would have broken something inside of him. 

"I want you to come with me to Arlington Park," he said. "But I think I finally understand why you needed to take some time apart from me. I brought you here thinking to convince you to go with me. Only I realized that I want you to come back because it's what you want - not because I force you or convince you to come."

"I'd like to join you," Sabrina said softly; and there it was, that glimmer of hope she'd been looking for.

"Good," Douglas said. "If you'd like to write out a note to your maid I'll have it delivered. We leave in the morning."

Sabrina watched as Douglas headed for the door. In that moment, she was reminded of the time they had spent in this room together. She could see the similarities that she'd missed before, the width of his shoulders, the length of his stride - it all came back to her. All of the pieces seem to come together, the past joining with the present and the picture - the history - of it all seem to offer her a sense of hope. They had some distance to go but had already been through much together. 

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I'll have a bath sent up and give you time to rest and freshen up," Douglas turned to look at her. She still wore the dress from Purgatory; he hadn't missed the simple elegance or the stark sensuality of her in it. She was beautiful and his wife and he ached to hold her again. Knowing the timing wasn't right he said, "Perhaps you'd be willing to dine with me this evening?"

"I'd like that," Sabrina said, watching as he nodded and let himself out.

A short time later, Sabrina stopped in the doorway of the library suddenly feeling very uncertain. Douglas sat staring into the fire lost in thought. Catching him unaware, she watched him take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Sabrina felt her heart clench. He looked tired and she realized for the first time how much these past few months must have cost him.

Douglas wasn't sure when he became aware of Sabrina watching him. Slowly, he turned to find her standing in the doorway. Coming to his feet, he hesitated. Something warned him to let her come to him. "Good evening," he said and waited.

Sabrina's leg felt like lead; part of her wanted to run to Douglas, to throw herself into his arms, while part of her hesitated. The moment felt weighted, as if her entire future rested on the here and now. She sensed that everything could change based on what she did in that next moment. Taking a deep breath, Sabrina stepped into the room.

Douglas watched as Sabrina walked towards him and felt something in his chest ease. She was home.

Sabrina moved across the room, her heart hammering in her chest. "Good evening," she said, taking Douglas' outstretched hand like a lifeline.

"You look lovely," he said, meaning it. Her emerald green dress was one of his favorite.

"Thank you," Sabrina said. Standing in front of Douglas, staring up into his face she saw a reserve that had never been there before. Unable to stop herself, she reached up and cupped his face. "Oh Douglas, I am so sorry."

In that moment her heart broke a bit for both of them.

Douglas leaned into her hand realizing that he had thought never to feel her touch again. Staring down into her face, he took a deep breath and let it all go – at least for now. "Not tonight," he said. "Let us enjoy an evening together – there will be time enough for that later."

Sabrina hesitated a moment before withdrawing her hand and nodding. "Of course."

"Would you like a drink before we dine? A glass of wine?" Douglas asked.

"I would join you in a glass of brandy if you don't mind," Sabrina said.

Douglas raised a brow in surprise but nevertheless poured them each a measure of brandy, passing Sabrina her glass and watching as she slowly circled the room. "It's a lovely library," she said. "I never noticed it...before."

Douglas realized that this was the first time Sabrina had remained at Westhaven of her own free will. "I'd be happy to give you a tour later."

"I would like that," she said. Stopping before the window, Sabrina stared out onto the back of the house noting softly rolling hills of endless fields.

They sipped in silence, both of them at a bit of a loss for something to say. Taking a deep breath, Sabrina broke the silence, "Westhaven was your mother's?"

Douglas looked up from his drink. "Yes, a gift from an admirer."

Sabrina inwardly cringed at the reminder. Perhaps questions relating to Douglas' mother were better left for another time. "It's beautiful – what I've seen of it."

"Thank you," Douglas said as he circled around the room and went to stand beside her. "It's the smallest of our properties but one of my favorite."

Together they turned to survey the land beyond the window, both of them sipping their brandy. Finally Douglas tossed back the rest of his drink. "Shall we?" he asked, offering Sabrina his arm.

Sabrina downed the last of her drink, shrugging at Douglas' expression of surprise. She had learned how to drink rather well during her time with Marcus – perhaps a skill better not practiced too often - and found she quite enjoyed the occasional feeling of intoxication. "Of course," she said taking Douglas' arm and allowing him to lead her to the dining hall.

They ate in the formal dining room, the table set at one end for the two of them. Westhaven was lightly staffed with both Martin and Jared taking on footman duties and seeing to their service. A quick look from Douglas dismissed them both once their plates were full and the wine poured.

Douglas racked his brain trying to think of something to say. It seemed that most topics were off limits or risked making one or both of them feel uncomfortable. Still, he couldn't regret his decision to bring Sabrina home. He wanted her here, wanted her to stay.

"How is your father?" Sabrina asked, breaking through his thoughts. 

Douglas took a sip of wine. "Not well," he admitted. "That is actually part of the reason I decided to come for you. I need to return to Arlington Park as soon as possible but didn't want to leave without seeing you first."

"We leave tomorrow?" Sabrina asked feeling a sudden lump form in the pit of her stomach.

"If that is agreeable to you," Douglas said. "I would like to spend as much time with my father as possible."

"Of course," Sabrina said. She remembered her time at Arlington Park as some of the happiest in her life – certainly with Douglas. Going back now suddenly seemed like one of the hardest things she'd ever done.

"Sabrina?" Douglas watched as his wife pushed her food around her plate, no longer eating. "Are you alright?"

Sabrina looked up and caught Douglas' concern. "I'm fine. I just..."

"What?" Douglas asked when she hesitated. "Would you prefer to remain here? I can travel back and forth if you'd rather not accompany me." It wasn't his first choice but perhaps he needed to be prepared for the fact that Sabrina may not be ready to travel with him. The thought was like a kick to the gut and Douglas fought against a rising sense of dread.

"No, it's not that." Sabrina hesitated, not sure how to proceed. "Your father and Aunt Mae – what must they think of me?"

It took Douglas a moment to realize what she was saying. He had no delusions that his father remained unaware of his...estrangement from Sabrina. Despite his illness, the duke stayed in touch with the latest news in London and would have passed that information on to Douglas' aunt.

"You have nothing to fear," Douglas said, lightly touching the tips of his fingers to the back of Sabrina's hand. "I will explain to my father that regardless of what has happened we have moved beyond it and there is nothing to worry about."

Sabrina resisted the urge to turn her hand over and grasp Douglas' hand. "Have we? Moved passed it?"

Reluctantly, Douglas removed his hand and resumed eating. "No," he said. "But we will and that is all that matters."

Sabrina nodded; feeling a tightness behind her eyes she quickly blinked back her tears. 

After dinner Douglas made good on his promise and gave Sabrina a tour of Westhaven. It was a small, cottage manor designed to be a home close to London. There was no ballroom but still housed a formal dining room, breakfast room, library and study all on the lower level. There were six guest rooms (including Sabrina's) plus the master suite. Martin and Jared slept in the attic along with the cook and two maids.

"So that's it," Douglas said, depositing Sabrina outside the door to her room. He'd been both pleased and relieved that she seemed able to see beyond their history with the house and to the charm of Westhaven. 

Sabrina felt surprisingly self-conscious, staring up at Douglas she wasn't sure what she was waiting for. In the few short months of their marriage they had never slept apart despite maintaining their own suite of rooms. Yet, she sensed that Douglas wasn't ready to invite her back into his bed and she wasn't sure she was ready to go. "It really is beautiful," she said, lacking anything better to say.

"Well, I will leave you to sleep. We should get an early start tomorrow." Douglas said.

"Of course," Sabrina agreed and turned to open her door. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Douglas said and watched as Sabrina slipped into her room closing the door behind her. He hesitated, not wanting to go. He knew it was too soon – they had much to discuss before picking up where they left off and sharing a marital bed. Still, he yearned to feel her sleeping beside him once more.




English Rose Ch. 06



Sabrina tossed and turned, eventually rolling over onto her back and kicking off the covers. She was restless, unable to sleep. Earlier while on their tour she had asked Douglas which room was his. He had pointed to a set of double doors at the end of the hall indicating the master suite. Knowing that he was just down the hall while she lay in bed alone was making sleep impossible.

Wide awake she stared up at the ceiling wondering what to do. Bloody hell, she thought and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her toes curled against the cold floors but she didn't bother to stop for slippers or a robe. If she did she would likely stop to think about what she was doing and lose her nerve.

Slipping out of her room, she padded lightly down the hall and into the master suite. It was dark, the candles doused and the drapes drawn but she could still make out the large bed in the center of the room. Quietly, hoping not to wake him, she circled around to the left side of the bed and crawled under the covers. 

For several minutes she held herself still, afraid to move for fear of waking Douglas. She'd slept alone since the night she'd left him, never getting a good night sleep and his deep, even breathing was an immediate comfort. Back in his bed, his large frame solid beside her and Sabrina felt exhaustion settle over her limbs, dragging her down into sleep.

Douglas waited until Sabrina's breath came deep and even beside him before slowly sliding across the bed. Wrapping one arm around her waist he tucked himself around her spoon-style and closed his eyes.





English Rose Ch. 06



"You should have thought about that before you joined him on the terrace," Macus said.

Joan stiffened at his tone. "I did not accompany him out here - he followed me and waited until I was alone."

"Be that as it may..." Marcus began.

"Marcus, what is going on here?" Lady Billings called, coming closer with every second that passed.

"A moment, Mother." Marcus stared down at Miss Whitman, "What do you propose we tell them?"

"I don't know...nothing...anything...just please don't tell them it was Weaverly," Joan begged.

"They will assume that I had something to do with this," Marcus said.

"I will make sure that they know it wasn't you," Joan assured him.

Marcus scoffed. "No one will believe you. Is Weaverly really so bad that you don't want to marry him?" Marcus thought all young ladies of the ton wanted marriage.

"Would you?" Joan countered.

Surprised, Marcus frowned but had to conceed the point. Weaverly was older then Miss Whitman by at least twenty years and known to be a drunk and a gambler. Of course, so was Marcus so who was he to judge?

"It doesn't matter what I would do," Marcus said. "No one is going to believe I didn't compromise you unless you offer up another name. By the sounds of it Weaverly would be happy to accept responsibility."

"That is exactly what he wants," Joan dared a glance over Lord Edington's shoulder and felt her stomach pitch and roll. A group of the ton's most notorious matrons were barreling down on them. "Weaverly is after my dowry, I already denied him once which is why he worked to get me in this position in the first place. He didn't count on your timely appearance."

Marcus was impressed that she had deduced Weaverly's intentions so quickly and clearly. She was obviously bright and so far hadn't collapsed into a fit of hysterics. It wasn't what he would have expected from a young lady of the ton. "So what do you suggest we do?" Marcus asked.

Joan nibbled at her lower lip. Lord Edington was correct, there was no repairing her appearace, certainly not while standing in the dark garden. The most she could hope for was to bluff her way through and hope for the best. At this point the best would be anything that did not include marriage to Weaverly. "Just...let me pass, I'll deal with your mother and make sure she knows it wasn't you. You can be on your way."

Marcus narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "If you think to trap me into offering for you..."

"No!" Joan cried. "I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving me from Weaverly. I would never repay you that way."

Marcus snorted. "Look, no one is going to believe that it wasn't me - not now." He had wasted too much time talking to the girl. It would look like an obvious attempt at extricating himself from the situation. "Besides, if they do believe it they won't let it rest until you name the man responsible. So, unless you plan to name some poor, unsuspecting sap then you will be forced to name Weaverly thus ending up in the one position you hoped to avoid."

"So what are you suggesting?" Joan asked.

"I will accept responsibility for your current...predicament...and prevent Weaverly from stepping forward. However," he warned, "know that I will not offer for you."

Joan blinked in surprise at the offer. She was well aware of Lord Edington's reputation and his aversion to unmarried ladies. "Why would you do that?" Joan asked.

Marcus frowned. He wasn't entirely sure what had possessed him to make such an offer. Perhaps all the booze he'd been drinking had finally pickled his brain. Shrugging he said, "What does it matter so long as we are in agreement as to the terms of my offer."

"Marcus, who do you have back there?" Lady Billings came to an abrupt stop. Something about her son's stance warned her that she was not going to like what was about to happen. Suddenly, she wished she had invited the ladies to the orangery instead of the garden. "Marcus?"

Marcus turned to face his mother, drawing Miss Whitman from between the trees and wrapping his arm casually around her waist. "You always did have remarkable timing, Mother."

Marcus watched as his mother looked from him to Miss Whitman and back again, understanding dawned and her lips tightened in disapproval. Why, he wondered, did her disapproval suddenly seem to bother him?

"I see," Lady Billings muttered. "Miss Whitman."

Joan dipped a quick curtsy. "My lady."

"Millie, go and fetch Lady Whitman. I believe I last saw her with her husband in the card room." Lady Billings addressed her request to her long time friend Mildred. "Please be quick and quiet."

"Of course," Millie said and went in search of Joan's parents.

"Really, Mother, is that necessary?" Marcus drawled. 

Lady Billings' eyes narrowed. "Of course it is. You know how these things work Marcus."

"Of course I do," Marcus said. "I was rather enjoying myself until the lot of you interrupted. Ah, the Lord and Lady Whitman. Well, now that your parents have arrived I believe I will take myself off."

Joan squared her shoulders and prepared to meet her father's wrath. She had meant it when she said that she had no intention of forcing Lord Edington into marriage. "Goodnight, my lord."

"Now wait one minute!" Lord Whitman cried.

"Joanie, what is the meaning of this?" her mother asked.

"Marcus, you can't expect..." Lady Billings was horrified as she watched Marcus preparing to leave.

"Indeed I do," Marcus said. "It's been a lovely evening," he said, his gaze sliding suggestively towards Miss Whitman. If he was going to play the cad he might as well play it to the fullest. "But I'm afraid I really must be off."

"I must protest!" Lord Whitman cried having summed up the situation almost immediately.

"Joanie?" 

Joan cringed at the quiet concern of her mother's voice. "Mama, I can explain."

"Marcus, you will remain..."

"No, Mother, I will not." Marcus said. "The young lady and I had an understanding and it did not extend past this evening."

"Oh, Marcus, how could you?" his mother asked. Marcus was many things but she never would have thought him capable of ruining a young lady and then leaving her to fend for herself.

Marcus felt himself stiffen. Why was it so easy for his mother to believe that he would stoop to trifling with a young unmarried lady? Why did he care if she did? "You know perfectly well what I'm capable of."

Lady Billings paled at the reminder. "Very well, Marcus, leave if you must but this is not over."

"It most definitely is not!" Lord Whitman reached past Marcus and grabbed his daughter by the arm. "Come along Joanie, we're going home. You and I will speak tomorrow," he warned Marcus before turning to herd his wife and daughter through the growing crowd.

Marcus watched them leave, not surprised when the young woman turned to give him one last look. He was surprised to see that she didn't look panicked, just sort of resolved. Whatever happened, he had a feeling she would be fine. Smoothing down his cravat, Marcus gave him mother a shallow bow. "Thank you, Mother, it's been an...eventful...evening."

Lady Billings didn't say anything, just watched as Marcus disappeared into the crowd.





English Rose Ch. 06



Sabrina cried out as Douglas lengthened his strokes and increased his pace. Each thrust of his hips drove him deeper and deeper until he was brushing up against her womb. Sabrina struggled to lift her hips, to meet each of his thrust and take him deeper into her body.

Douglas pressed his forehead to Sabrina's, whispering, "Your mine," and watched as she shattered at his words.

Sabrina felt her body clamp down hard before flying apart on wave after wave of pleasure. Above her, Douglas continued to move until he too gave a shout, releasing himself deep into her body, the surge of warmth against her womb triggering another release. 

Douglas continued stroking Sabrina through her second climax, watching in satisfaction as she came apart in his arms. Eventually, the tremors passed and she lay still beneath him. Rolling to one side, Douglas pulled her into his arms and held her.

Sabrina turned into Douglas' embrace and pressed her face against the wide expanse of his chest. She could hear the beat of his heart and listened as his labored breathing started to ease. It wasn't long before the room had grown peaceful though the air was still scented with their love making.

"Please stay," Sabrina said quietly.

"Of course," Douglas said. With a bit of shifting he was able to get them both beneath the blankets without having to let go of his wife. "Just promise you'll never leave me again," he whispered in the dark.

"I promise," Sabrina said, sighing in pleasure as Douglas' arms tightened around her.





English Rose Ch. 06



Marcus shrugged, "Wrong place, wrong time."

Sabrina watched Marcus carefully, hardening her heart, she said, "Well, no good deed goes unpunished." Turning on her heels, she strode from the room.

"Take care of him," she told Dillon as she passed through the door and out into the light of the afternoon. Surprised, she stopped to find Douglas leaning against their carriage waiting for her. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "Did I run over my hour?"

Douglas searched her face; it was obvious that the visit had not been easy or pleasant. "No," he said. "I wasn't getting much work done so I thought I'd come and see you home."

Sabrina tilted her head considering Douglas as she walked towards him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disrupt your day." She felt guilty for having caused him any distress with her visit.

Douglas shrugged and offered her hand up into the carriage. "It was nothing that couldn't wait," he said. "How was your visit?" he asked, trying for a casualness he didn't feel.

"As well as to be expected," Sabrina said. "Marcus refuses to offer for Miss Whitman."

"Did you honestly expect to change his mind?" Douglas asked, not unkindly.

Sabrina settled herself on the carriage seat, shaking out her skirt. "I don't know what I hoped to accomplish," she answered honestly. "I just..."

"Just what?" Douglas prompted when she grew quiet. 

"I just want to see him happy," she said. "I know you have cause to resent Marcus but he took care of me. I mean it," she said when Douglas gave a snort. "You must understand that I was feeling a bit...reckless. Marcus worked to curb some of my wilder impulses and kept me from completely destroying my reputation. I know you don't want to hear this but it could have been much worse," she admitted.

Douglas searched her face. By silent agreement they had decided not to discuss the details of Sabrina's time with Edington - for now. Honestly, he wasn't sure if he would ever be ready to hear the details. "Well," he said. "I can appreciate that, I just don't know how charitable I can be when it comes to Edington."

Sabrina smiled up at Douglas. "All I ask is that you be patient with me where Marcus is concerned."

"I certainly hope you don't plan to make a habit of meddling in the man's life," Douglas said, his voice softening a bit.

"I don't meddle," Sabrina objected, her eyes narrowing at Douglas' look of disbelief. "Well, I don't! If Marcus would just listen..."

"Sabrina, leave the man alone," Douglas warned. "You've said your peace, be happy that he gave you that much. Push too hard and you'll alienate Edington entirely."

Sabrina looked up, knowing that Douglas was right she nodded. "Very well," she said. "Let's go home."

Marcus waited until he heard the door close quietly behind Sabrina before collecting himself. It took him considerably longer then I would have liked. Still, by early evening he was dressed, pressed and as close to sober as he'd been in days. "I'm going out," Marcus told Dillon.

"Yes sir," Dillon said, holding the door and wondering what Lady Radcliff had said.

"I should be home in time for dinner," Marcus said doning his coat and gloves. "Please see that something is prepared."

"Yes sir," Dillon said, smiling as he closed the door.

Joan sat with her parents in the library. Dinner would be served shortly but she found that she lacked much of an appetite. The house was a beehive of activity as the servants continued to pack for her trip, a constant reminder that in just two days time she'd be leaving London with no hope of returning any time soon.

"Begging your pardon, my lord, my lady," Edgar appeared at the library door. "Lord Edington asks if you are receiving?"

Joan's head snapped up and she watched as her parents shared a look of surprise.

"Thank you, Edgar," her father said. "Show Lord Edington to my study and let him know that I'll be along in a moment."

"Yes, my lord." Edgar said.

Lord Whitman waited until Edgar had disappeared before turning to his daughter. "Do you know anything about this?"

"No," she said shaking her head. "I can't think why Lord Edington would be calling."

"Very well," he said and walked from the room. 

Marcus heard the brisk footsteps of Lord Whitman long before the man arrived in the study. Turning, he watched as Whitman hesitated for a barely preceptable moment before crossing the threshold. "Good evening, my lord. I apologize for arriving unannouced."

Whitman waived away Edington's apology. "I'll admit to some surprise, I had not expected to hear from you any time soon."

Edington nodded. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I've come to offer for your daughter."

Whitman blinked, his mouth opening and closing in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

Marcus gritted his teeth, "I spoke plainly sir. I've secured a special license and the announcement will appear in tomorrow's paper..."

"Sir," Lord Whitman cut in, "Joanie confessed that you were not the man responsible."

Surprised, Marcus ask, "Did your daughter happen to mention the name of the man that is responsible?"

"No," Whitman confessed.

"Then it appears the situation is unchanged," Marcus said. "We will be married on Saturday. I've already seen to the church." Marcus had been busy since Sabrina's departure.

"Forgive me," Lord Whitman said, "but I don't understand. If you were to disclose the name of the man responsible I could insist on..."

"Are you saying you would rather have your daughter married to the blackguard that compromised her and then left her?" Marcus growled.

"No! That is I don't know given that I don't know the man's identity," Lord Whitman hurried. "It's just, begging your pardon my lord, but if you gave me the man's name then this would no longer be your responsibility."

Marcus considered; for reasons he refused to exam too closely he found himself unwilling to reveal Weaverly's part. "Whether you believe it or not you are getting a much better deal with me then with the man ultimately responsible."

Lord Whitman nodded. Despite his reputation Lord Edington was not a bad match for his daughter. He came from a long line of respectable individuals, held the title to a large estate and was the son and stepson of Lord and Lady Billings. While he was known to drink and gamble - well, who didn't indulge from time to time? "Very well," he said. "I will inform my daughter and Lady Whitman of the change in plans. If you send over the details I will make sure to have Joanie at the church on Saturday."

"Change in plans?" Marcus asked.

Whitman nodded as he walked Edington out, "We were preparing to send Joan to the country." Something flickered across Edington's face as he took his coat and gloves.

"I see," Marcus said and silently commending Sabrina on her foresight. As Marcus turned to leave, he said, "Until Saturday.

"Until then, my lord." Whitman said, watching as Edington turned and walked down the street eshewing a carriage or hackney despite the hour. 

"Harold?" Lady Whitman asked from behind her husband.

"Come," he said, taking his wife's arm and leading her back into the library. "We need to speak with Joanie."

The next morning Douglas breakfasted with Sabrina. "Well I'll be..."

Sabrina looked up from her eggs at Douglas' muttered surprise, "What is it?"

Douglas folded the paper and passed it to his wife. "Read it for yourself," he said.

Sabrina felt her eyes go wide at the announcement. 

"It would seem Edington took your advice and offered for Miss Whitman," Douglas said.

"I honestly didn't think he listened - or cared" she admitted.

Douglas considered his wife thoughtfully. "It would seem you hold considerably more sway over Edington then I had thought."

Sabrina looked up at the unfamiliar tone of Douglas' voice. "Does that bother you?" she asked.

Douglas shrugged. "It makes me wonder at the depths of his feelings for my wife."

"He cares, Douglas," she said, "as much as Marcus can care for anyone."

Watching his wife reread the announcement Douglas realized that whatever else had happened some how she had developed a friendship with Edington - and apparently the feeling was mutual. "Shall we attend?"

Sabrina's head snapped up in surprise, "We weren't invited," she said.

"I doubt anyone is," Douglas said, "but that won't stop the ton from turning out in droves."

Sabrina shook her head slowly. "No, I won't ask you to go through that." Her appearance at Marcus' wedding, even if escorted by her husband, would illicit endless speculation. "Besides, we're due to leave for Arlington Park on Saturday."

Douglas felt his pride eased a bit at her willingness to return to Arlington Park. He knew it to be genuine and that knowledge allowed him to insist, "We'll minimize the delay and leave directly after the ceremony."

"Are you certain?" Sabrina asked, knowing that it was selfish of her to accept Douglas' offer.

"Don't believe that my motives are purely selfless - I'll rest easier seeing Edington safely married," Douglas said, a hint of humor underlying his words.

Sabrina put the paper aside and slid into Douglas' lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled him close until they sat face to face. "I know that it may be too soon but I hope you know that you have nothing to worry about. While it would pain me to do so I would discontinue my friendship with Marcus if you asked."

Douglas wrapped his arms around his wife's waist enjoying the feel of her. It seemed a little thing but the moment meant more to him then she could possibly know. Such a simple thing - a wife settling herself on her husband's lap, feeling safe to do so - was a comfort he had longed to have in his marriage.

"I'm not thrilled with your relationship with Edington and I won't pretend otherwise. After everything that happened I made myself a promise to always be honest with you - regardless of what I fear the outcome may be." Douglas slid his hand up the length of her back and wrapped his fingers around the nape of her neck. "But there is no way to eliminate every situation that may cause concern or insecurity. I'd rather we relearn how to trust each other so that there is never any question."

Sabrina sighed as Douglas dug his fingers into the base of her neck, loosening the tight muscles and easing her tension. "I do trust you," she said and found it to be true. 

"You do?" Douglas asked, obviously surprised.

Sabrina stared down into his face, "I do. I know that you didn't lie about everything and I realize that you handled things the only way you thought you could."

Douglas nodded, "I never meant to keep the truth from you. I kept waiting for the right time but it never seem to come. I thought to bind you to me with your affection so that once you knew you wouldn't leave. But, by then I'd come to care for you too much to risk loosing you."

"You don't have to explain," Sabrina said, resting her forehead against his, she ventured to ask. "Do you think that you will come to forgive me and trust me in return?"

Douglas took a deep breath...

"I know it's too soon," Sabrina said in a rush.

"It's not that I don't trust you or that I haven't forgiven the affair with Edington," Douglas said. "I think I've started down the path of both. It's more that the hurt is still there and the healing a delicate thing. When you went to call on Edington - I don't know, I just couldn't understand how you could want to see him again - not if you honestly care for me."

Sabrina felt her heart squeeze painfully. "I do care, Douglas. I don't think I would have reacted so strongly if I didn't. I don't think there could have been such anger without a passion to match. As for Marcus, I don't know how to explain. I know you don't want to hear it but he was there for me. And, for what it's worth, I think he's someone that hurts more then either of us can imagine."

Douglas wasn't sure he cared but wouldn't say so to his wife. It was obvious that she cared for Edington and if the price of having her back in his life was her friendship with the man then certainly Douglas could tolerate it. "Well, then the very least we can do is put in an appearance at his nuptials," Douglas said.

"If you're sure," Sabrina said.

Douglas nodded, "I'll inform the staff to see that everything is in ready for us to leave directly from the ceremony. The announcement said that there was to be a small celebration afterwards but only family was to attend. Edington and his new bride shouldn't mind if we don't linger."

"Thank you," Sabrina said, hugging him tight before slipping off of his lap. "I'll go see to the preparations."

Douglas watched his wife slip out of the breakfast room and heard her call for Jared and Martin. The two men had started accompanying his wife in all their travels. Martin seemed a bit smitten with his new mistress while Jared had an obvious fondness for her maid, the three servants coming together to make Sabrina's personal staff. Douglas found himself more amused by the whole thing despite having lost two of his best men to his wife.





English Rose Ch. 07



Joan woke slowly, her body heavy and languid. Normally an early riser, she fought consciousness by burying her nose in her pillow and pulling the sheet up over her head. Breathing deeply, she prepared to settle in for a late morning when the distinctly masculine scent of her husband lingering on her pillow brought her to a state of awareness like nothing else could. 

Bolting upright, Joan clasped the sheets to her chest covering her nakedness as she frantically looked around the room. She needn't have worried. The room was empty - save for herself - and the bed beside her cold. Obviously, Marcus had been gone for some time.

Disappointed at finding herself alone, Joan tossed back the sheets, slipped into her robe and hurried across the room. Eager to see Marcus, she gave the door a cursory knock before letting herself in. 

"Humph!" Joan let out a grunt of surprise when the door failed to move. Taking half a step back, she gave the knob a vigorous twist and pushed harder. Nothing. Joan stood motionless, her palms resting flat against the cool surface of the door. For a moment it was all she could do to breathe as the reality of the situation became clear. Marcus had barred her from his rooms. 

She knew from her discussion with Shelly yesterday that this was the door that separated the master suites from those of the mistress of the house. While separate rooms were considered the norm within the ton she never expected to be denied access to her husband. Was she to go through his man and ask for an audience like some stranger come to call?

Quietly, Joan took a step back from the door, then another and another until she bumped up against the bed. Embarrassed at having tried to gain access where she was obviously not wanted, Joan could only hope that Marcus was either sound asleep or already gone from his rooms and had missed her attempted entry.

Not wanting to call for a maid, Joan dressed quickly in a simple day dress and hurried from her rooms. Retracing her steps from the night before, she descended the main staircase and turned towards the back of the house in search of breakfast.

Slowing her pace, Joan considered each closed door as she passed. An unnatural stillness blanketed the house and suggested that each room lay empty and unoccupied. She kept expecting to see a footman or a maid yet passed deeper into the house uninterrupted. It was as if the house had been abandoned, left to fend for itself. It feels sad, Joan thought.

After a number of false starts she found a passage way to the lower floor and into the kitchen. Following the soft murmmer of conversation, Joan found a table full of servants eating quietly and laughing in easy companionship. She hesitated to step forward not wanting to interrupt what was clearly a comfortable time.

"My lady!" Shelly jumped to her feet. "You shouldn't be down here."

"I'm sorry," Joan said, embarrassed for having trespassed into the servants' domain. "I was looking to break my fast."

"My apologies, my lady." Mary stood and started around the table. "Lord Edington never takes a morning meal and left instruction that you were not to be disturbed. If you'll return above stairs I'll have a tray brought up to your room."

Joan allowed herself to be gently but firmly led out of the room. Following a footman back to her rooms, she asked, "Is Lord Edington about?" 

"His lordship left some time ago, my lady," the footman said stepping back and indicating the open door to her rooms.

"I see," Joan said right before the door closed quietly behind her. Standing back among her things, Joan couldn't help but feel as if the door to a very pretty cage had just been closed.

****

Sabrina knelt beside the duke's bed watching the slow, shallow rise and fall of his chest. Across the bed, Douglas and his aunt Mae kept up a similar vigil. It had been three days since the duke last woke, much longer since he'd last left his bed. Just that morning the doctor had confirmed what they already knew, the end was near.

The three of them refused to leave his side. No longer working in shifts, they took their meals together in the duke's rooms and slept on pallets on the floor.

Pressing her forehead to the duke's frail hand, Sabrina took comfort in the warmth that still radiated from her father, even if the skin felt thin and brittle. She had long since stopped crying knowing that there would be time for tears later. For now she tried to offer both Douglas and Mae what comfort she could.

The unnatural silence reached Sabrina just as Mae let out a sob.

"Father?" Douglas whispered, already knowing he was gone.

Sabrina lifted her head. Watching, she waited to see if the duke's chest would rise again. "Please," she whispered.

"He's gone," Douglas said. Carefully, he lowered his father's hand to the bed but refused to let go. "George, call for the doctor."

"Of course, my lord." George slipped from the side of the man he'd served for over forty years and went to find a footman. No one else moved. Douglas, Sabrina and Mae waited beside the duke, each one silently saying goodbye.

***

Marcus let himself into his townhouse. Closing the door behind him, he leaned heavily against the wood thankfully for the solid support. The world tipped, the night's libations making balance a precarious thing, and the floor threatened to rush up and meet him. The servants knew better then to wait up so there was no one to witness as Marcus struggled to right himself, succeeding only with years of practice. 

Marcus had spent the better part of the day trying to forget that he was married. Then he'd spent the better part of the evening trying to forget his wedding night. The last thing he wanted to remember was the warm, inviting curves of his delicate bride and how she'd looked when he'd left her sleeping in her bed.

Tossing his hat and gloves aside, Marcus watched as they missed the sidetable and tumbled to the floor. Not bothering to pick them up, Marcus put his hand on the banister and carefully pulled himself up the stairs. Lady Edington, he thought, head down watching his feet. No one had been Lady Edington since his mother's time and look how that had ended. Not well. Marcus shook his head, muttering to himself, "Not well at all."

After leaving Joan, Marcus had returned to his rooms with thoughts of sleep. Only sleep wouldn't come. The realization that his wife slept peacefully next door had kept Marcus awake well into the night. The temptation to go to her, to once again awaken her passion and burying himself in her purity had driven him from his room and eventually from the house. 

She was too good for him, the light that shown from her beautiful blue eyes would never be enough to lead him from the darkness. Instead he risked extinguishing that light forever, risked dragging her down with him.

Yet that knowledge wasn't enough to keep him away. Despite knowing just how dangerous he was to his wife, Marcus found himself standing at the door joining their rooms, his gaze intent on the dark wood that separated him from a comfort he didn't deserve. With hands that shook - from the booze, he told himself - Marcus reached and turned the knob.

Joan snuggled deeper into the bed and tried to roll over only to find herself immobilized.

"Good evening, wife," Marcus purred and went back to nuzzling his wife's neck. He'd found her pleasantly warm and plump beneath the covers and had been working her towards waking for the past few minutes with tender touches.

"Marcus," Joan whispered. Surprised at the sudden and unexpected appearance of her husband, Joan didn't realize that she'd tilted her head back, giving him easier access to her neck until he started nibbling his way up towards her chin.

She'd spent the day alone, taking tea as well as her evening meal in her room. Thankfully, she'd been able to locate her needlepoint as well as several books she'd brought from home. They'd helped her to stave off boredom as well as helped her to forget that she'd been abandoned the day after her wedding. "What are you doing?" she asked.

Marcus slid down his wife's body and settled himself between her thighs. "I'm making love to my wife," he admitted and tugged on the ties holding the front of her nightgown together.

Joan gasped as her breasts spilled free and into Marcus' waiting hands.

Marcus gently squeezed the plump orbs before brushing the pads of his thumbs across her twin nipples, pleased when they grew hard and tight. Lowering his head, he repeated the process but this time using his tongue. 

Joan moaned in surprise as wet heat enveloped first one and then the other nipple. She lost track of time as Marcus moved from one breast to the other, alternating between licks and flicks of his tongue before suckling each nipple deep into his mouth.

"I didn't spend nearly enough time on these last night," Marcus said, pausing to blow a gentle breath across one ripe nipple. Immediately, Joan's nipple grew tigher and she arched off the bed on a gasp. "I plan to make up for that oversight tonight."

"Marcus, please," Joan whimpered. Already her breasts felt hot and heavy, her nipples hard, aching points. Unbidden, her hips rolled as she tried to press herself against where Marcus rested between her thighs. The movement brought new awareness to the pressure building between her legs - some central point beating in time to the ache of her nipples. Whatever it was she didn't want it to stop but wanted it stroked until she spiraled out of control.

"Not yet," Marcus said and pressed a last kiss to the underside of her breast.

Joan whimpered in protest as Marcus slid further down her body. Thinking he meant to leave, she rose up and reached for him.

"No," Marcus growled, surprised at the gravelly sound of his own voice. "Stay there," he ordered. To ensure that she obeyed, Marcus pressed his palm to the flat plane of her belly and pressed her into the bed. With his other hand he slowly gathered her nightgown and drew it up her legs, baring her most tender bits to his greedy gaze. 

Beneath him Joan shivered as cool air met heated flesh. "Marcus?" She wasn't sure what to make of this. Marcus still rested between her thighs but further down on the bed so that her lower half lay spread open and exposed. She expected him to move back up her body, to once again cover her with his flesh and enter her as before. Instead he continued to stare at the juncture between her thighs. "Marcus?"

"So beautiful," he whispered. Marcus couldn't help but marvel at the sight of his wife spread out before him. It wasn't the first time he'd rested face first between a woman's thighs. But it was the first time seeing his wife, a woman that belonged to him as no other ever had. She was his, for better or worse - and the worse was most certainly to come. 

Already he could feel the edges growing dark, knew it was only a matter of time before his vision slowly shrank until there was nothing left but darkness and desolation. He'd ordered a bottle brought to his room, the knowledge that it waited for him offering a small measure of comfort and allowing him to focus on his beautiful bride.

Leaning forward, Marcus brushed his nose across the light, golden curls that covered her most treasured secrets. The hair was normally lighter here but for the moisture of desire darkening the curls. The scent of her desire rose up to tickle at his nose - a light, citrus scent the suited her perfectly.

"I'm going to taste you here," Marcus explained and lightly ran the tip of his finger up the length of her slit. Immediately, juices gathered on the tip of his finger and it was all he could do not to lick it off. He wanted his first taste of her to be when his tongue met her flesh. "Will you allow me to taste you here?"

Joan stared down the length of her body to where Marcus lay between her thighs. She'd never seen anything as delightfully wicked as her husband's pale head lowering to brush against her nether curls. Still, he didn't touch her but waited for her answer. "I've never...I didn't know..."

"I should certainly hope not," Marcus said with a touch of humor. "I find myself strangely pleased to be the first one to introduce you to such things. Now, wife, what say you?"

"Yes," Joan barely managed to whisper. Never had anything relating to marital relations been discussed with her. Even on her wedding day her mother and stopped at saying that her husband was sure to teach her all there was to know. Still, on some instinctual level, Joan knew that what they were about to do was considered inexcusably wicked. 

Marcus didn't know why he hesitated. He didn't know why he'd bother to ask his wife's permission. Maybe to draw the moment out, to tease them both a bit before surrendering to the ultimate intimacy between man and woman, husband and wife. Whatever the reason he let it go and buried his face between his wife's thighs.

He had thought to go slow, had planned to initiate her with light licks of his tongue before sinking deep into her passage. Unfortunately, all of his carefully laid plans disintergrated with his first taste of her. Sweet and tart, the taste of her rolled over his tongue, down the back of his throat and flooded his senses. Wanting more, needing to saturate himself, Marcus wrapped his arms around Joan's hips and pulled her hard against his mouth.

Joan moaned and bucked as pleasure exploded across her body. She was barely aware of Marcus anchoring her to the bed and more firmly against his mouth. Unable to do anything else, Joan surrendered to the sensation, allowed the passion to flow up and over her. Arching her back, she gripped the sheets beneath her and rolled her hips in time with Marcus' mouth as he worked her into a frenzy. 

She'd never felt anything like it, not even their lovemaking the night before could compare with the intense sensation rippling up from between her legs. She'd never known that her own body could be so sensative, could swell to such heights.

Marcus shifted his weight and shouldered Joan's thighs further apart. Lifting his head, he licked at his lips and stared up at his wife. "Honey and pears, you taste like honey and pears."

Joan shivered as gray eyes pinned her to the bed. Marcus had never looked like the proper sedate gentry but tonight, with his lips shinny from her desire, he looked positively voracious. 

"I want to taste you while you cum, I want you to ride my tongue to completion," Marcus growled. Lowering his head, he used the tip of his tongue to circle the plump, little pearl of desire that thrust out from its protective hood. Beneath him Joan bucked and moaned until he once again pinned her hips to the bed. Holding her still, he retraced his steps, where before he'd devoured now he savored with long licks of his tongue. He left no part of her untouched, no part unexplored. When he was done he would know every inch of his wife intimately, would know which places were more sensitive, where she preferred a hard flick over a gentle sweep of his tongue.

Joan whithered on the bed, her body so tight she nearly sobbed with need. "Marcus. Marcus, please," she begged. "I can't...I need..."

"I know, darling," Marcus cooed. Reverently, he used the tips of his fingers to gently part his wife's swollen folds revealing more of her pearl as well as her passage. Her netherlips were deep red and swollen, her passage weeping desire while her pearl throbbed. He would swear that his heart beat in time with that tender bit of flesh. "So beautiful," he whispered. 

Once again he lowered his head only this time he drew her pearl into his mouth and suckled deeply. At the same time, he slid two fingers deep into her body humming in pleasure as her passage clamped down around him. Beneath him Joan moaned deep in her chest and rolled her hips. Again and again Marcus thrust his fingers up against the downward roll of her hips until together they picked out a rhythm that was hard and fast.

It didn't take long, a few thrusts of Marcus' fingers as he suckled hard between her thighs and Joan shattered, her body flying apart in a way from which she might never recover. "Yes, Marcus!"

Marcus felt Joan's body clamp down an instant before she flooded his mouth with the taste of her release. Still he didn't let up but instead rode the hard contractions of her body until she shuddered and collapsed, her body utterly spent. 

As she lay panting, Marcus gently slid his fingers from her passage before getting to his knees and crawling up the length of her body. He didn't stop to place a kiss upon her flat belly, didn't reacquaint himself with her breasts. Marcus didn't stop for anything as he impaled his wife on his cock.

Joan gasped in surprise as Marcus thrust between her legs an instant before she came again. Groaning and shuddering her way through another orgasm, Joan grasped at Marcus' forearms and held on as he plunged in and out of her body.

Marcus clamped down on his jaw certain he might break a few teeth as he tried to hold back a groan of pure male satisfaction. Wet, tight and swollen, his wife's netherlips gripped at him as he pushed his way into her tender flesh. A part of him warned him to go slow, reminded him that her body would be overly sensative from her orgasm. But just as he was about to pull back, to slow his trust he felt her passage clamp down and her nails digging into his arms as another orgasm rippled through her body. 

"Thank god," he muttered at the unmistakeable evidence of her arousal and thrust back home. Pushing up from her body Marcus stared down into the flushed face of his wife. Her blue eyes had gone bright and perhaps a little bit glazed as her body continued to ripple with pleasure. "You're mine," he growled as an unfamiliar need to claim his bride came over him.

Joan nodded and felt a new wave of pleasure wash over her at Marcus' words.

"You're mine," Marcus repeated, something close to anger tinting his words as he pounded into her flesh. "You're mine."

Joan didn't say anything, just lifted her legs and wrapped them around her husband's waist.

Marcus groaned at the new angle and plunged into his wife, the crown of his cock brushing up against the entrance to her womb. "Right there," he said. "I want to release my seed right there."

He had no idea what possessed him, why he felt such a need to claim his wife, but Marcus couldn't stop the words from tumbling out as he pounded into her flesh. 

"You're mine!" Marcus shouted and with a final thrust emptied his seed at the entrance to his wife's womb.

Joan surrendered to Marcus, accepting him into her body in a way she never thought possible. When it was over, when he lay in her arms with his head resting on her breasts, she tried to reconcile the fierce lover with the man that had left her alone for the day. In the end it didn't matter, she just wrapped her arms around him and let herself slip into sleep.

****

Sabrina walked quickly but quietly through the house and out the front door. Once outside she took a deep breath and felt guilty. Although Arlington Park had come to mean so much to her it was a relief to be leaving. 

Everywhere in the house lay reminders of her father. His belonging still occupied the master suite and there were hints of him throughout the house. A pair of specticles found laying forgotten on a sidetable, a favorite book left open - the pages marked - all of it acting as constant, unexpected reminders of the man they had all loved and lost.

It was hardest on Mae. There wasn't a place in the house that didn't reminder her of her brother, that didn't hold a memory of the two of them together over the years. Mae had taken to staying in her rooms, unable or unwilling to face the loss of her constant companion.





English Rose Ch. 07



It was then that Douglas decided to move them all back to London. "My father wouldn't care where we grieve," he'd told her. "I know for a fact that he despised the period of mourning that left friends and family alone during the worse of it. I suspect he would have approved of us returning to London."

"Of course," Sabrina agreed and quickly made arrangements to move them back to London. They were leaving today, Mae and Douglas already out front waiting on horse and carriage. Slipping between the two of them, Sabrina locked arms with Douglas. "It's done," she said quietly.

Douglas had asked her to do the final walk through, to make sure that the house was properly prepared to be locked up for however long they were gone. All but a few servants would be returning with them to London and Arlington Park would sit until they were ready to return. Douglas suspected that Mae might never return, instead opting to live out her life in London among friends. He had already offered her a place with him and Sabrina or the use of any one of the estate's many townhomes. For now she would stay with them and had left the rest for later to decide.

"We'll take our time going back," Douglas said as the carriage was brought around for the ladies. Sabrina had offered to travel with Mae while Douglas opted to ride. "There are several small towns between here and London and I know of at least one tavern with a delicious meat pie."

Sabrina smiled up at Douglas. "It will be lovely," she said. "Especially as the weather appears to be holding." Her husband looked tired, mostly from grief, and ready to be gone from this place. His father's death had hit him harder then even she had expected. She understood that he felt cheated out of time with the man he'd only just come to know and love.

Turning to Mae, Sabrina offered her arm. "Come, I know that Cook prepared enough food to see us all the way through to London and I believe she packed a good bottle of wine."

"More then one, I hope," Mae said as she stepped up into the carriage. Sabrina followed, assisted by Douglas who gave her a quick kiss before closing the door.

Through the window he said, "We'll ride for a few hours and then stop to stretch our legs. If you need anything before then just knock on the carriage roof."

"We'll be fine," Sabrina assured him.

Douglas mounted his horse and sat quietly, watching as the carriage started to roll down the drive. Turning, he stared up at the house remembering what it had felt like to arrive for the first time an invited and welcome guest only to stay as part of the family. Arlington Park had become home to him as well as Sabrina and a part of him rebelled at leaving. Still, it was too painful for Mae and he had a responsibility to the living. He would be back. Maybe not soon but eventually this would be home once again.

****

Joan stood staring out the window. She'd been thrilled to find that her rooms faced the front of the house and overlooked a fashionable section of London. From here she could watch as lords and ladies made their way through town often time crossing through the park, a corner of which she could glimpse from her window.

If it was too early or too late to be fashionable Joan could still content herself with watching servants hurrying from place to place. Some were on their way to and from the market while others delivered messages for master or mistress. It was a busy area with plenty to occupy her mind.

By the end of the first week she had had enough. Letting the curtain fall back in place, Joan stepped away from the window and surveyed her domain. With all of her trunks unpacked the room had quickly taken on a personal feel. Her books and belonging littered just about every available surface. What space wasn't taken up by reading material held needlepoint, several different pieces in progress, or writing supplies. It was organized clutter and Shelly had come to understand it was not to be touched.

Thank heavens for Shelly. The young maid was Joan's only source of companionship often sitting with Joan while she took tea or worked on her sewing. Without that small comfort Joan surely would have gone crazy from loneliness by now.

Every morning Joan woke alone though every night Marcus joined her in bed. Together they had explored all kinds of delights of the flesh until they both fell exhausted into sleep. But every morning Joan woke to find Marcus gone and the door between their rooms locked. She had no idea where he went during the day, where he took his meals or where he slept. 

At first she had wondered if there was another woman. Perhaps someone with whom he'd been involved with before his marriage and who he refused to give up. Married men and mistresses were common among the ton and Joan told herself she could accept such an arrangement. However, Marcus never smelled of another woman, never seemed to go out of his way to bathe before seeing her. If anything he only ever smelled of booze.

She'd mentioned it once.

"You've been drinking," she said as he nuzzled her neck, his movements slower and more deliberate then usual.

"To ward off the demons," he mutter, her comment catching him off guard.

"What demons?" Joan asked.

Marcus lifted his head. "The demons that will devour us both." Blinking he tried to clear his head and grasp onto the thread of conversation. "Nevermind," Marcus said.

Joan had wanted to ask him more but he'd pointedly ignored her quary until he'd found new and exciting ways to distract her. Still, days later his comments haunted Joan and left her wondering just what kind of demons her husband was fighting.

Her own thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. "Enter."

"You rang, my lady?" Mary entered and dipped a quick curtsy.

"Yes, from now on I will take my breakfast in the morning room," Joan said. She'd given it some thought and decided that she was done spending her days and nights alone in her room. From what she could tell the townhouse was large with several rooms. The fact that her husband chose not to inhabit them did not mean she could not.

"The morning room?" Mary asked, her trepidation evident.

"Yes, the small room on the south side of the house. It's well suited to act as a breakfast room." Joan started towards the door. "As of today that is where I will take my morning meal."

"My lady, his lordship doesn't like the rooms opened except for cleaning," Mary objected as she followed her young mistress out of the room and down the stairs.

"Well, his lordship isn't here and I am," Joan said, infusing her voice with a confidence she didn't feel. Quickly, she walked towards the back of the house to the small morning room she had spied during her first morning in the house. It was small, south facing and had plenty of windows. A tabletop to seat four meant that she could breakfast alone without feeling at sea like she would in the formal dining room with its table to seat twenty.

Like every room in the house the drapes were drawn but the furniture in perfect condition and not a speck of dust in sight. Choosing a chair, Joan sat herself and the looked pointedly at Mary. "I understand Lord Edington has given his orders, however, he's not here and I am." Joan felt her face heat at having to state the obvious. "I doubt his lordship will have anything to say over my use of the room. If he does then he may take the matter up with me."

Joan was pleased to see her hand didn't shake as she laid her napkin in her lap. "Now, if you please, have the drapes opened and my breakfast brought it. I would also like to see this morning's edition while I break my fast."

Mary stood indecisive for a moment before bowing her head slightly and hurrying from the room.

Joan did her best to enjoy breakfast while reading the paper. She was out of touch with the going-ons and it felt good to catch up. She told herself that she wasn't the least bit jealous at the long list of entertainments that she had missed.

"Thank you," she said as one of the footman cleared her plate. Please ask Mary to join me."

"Yes, my lady," the footman said and exited the room.

A moment later Mary appeared looking decidedly nervous. "Yes, my lady?"

Joan put aside the paper and stood. "I would like a tour of the rest of the house as well as an introduction to the entire staff." She was embarrassed at having to order such a thing. Her husband should have seen her properly introduced to both house and staff upon her arrival. However, the only thing her husband seemed inclined to do was drink and makelove to her. The latter she didn't mind so much, quite enjoyed it actually, but she was tired of feeling like a guest in what was supposed to be her own home.

Mary gripped her fingers tightly before once again bowing. She was quickly coming to recognize that look upon Lady Edington's face as well as the stiff set of her shoulders. Mary gave word that the staff was to gather in the foyer in one half hour's time before leading her mistress through the entire house.

As Joan suspected, the townhouse was large with two upper floors, the main floor and a lower floor. The top floor housed the guest quarters, the second floor the family quarters and the lower floor the servants' quarters, kitchen and washroom. Every room they passed was closed up tight, drapes drawn and in some cases the furniture covered.

"It's a lovely home," Joan said.

Mary nodded but didn't say anything.

"What's in there?" Joan asked and pointed to a closed door at the end of the back hall.

"I beg your pardon, my lady," Mary said and went to open the door. "I forgot about the small sitting room."

Joan stepped into the room and immediately fell in love. It was indeed small, barely big enough to hold a chaise lounge, two sitting chairs and a couple of tables. But what gave it its charm was the small, private garden. Opening the doors, Joan stepped out onto the porch and found herself enchanted by a small fountain. The water was running despite the cold weather and the fact that no one appeared to be using the room. "It's beautiful," she sighed.

Mary nodded but didn't say anything.

"I'll take it," Joan said and smiled. For the first time she felt real pleasure at being in the house. "After breakfast I'd like to retire here to go over whatever business needs tending for the day."

"Yes, my lady," Mary said. "If you'll follow me the staff should have gathered by now."

Joan turned to go back inside, reaching out she lightly laid her fingers on the housekeepers arm. "Thank you, Mary, for showing me the house."

Mary colored slightly at the gratitude. "Of course, my lady. I'm just sorry one of us didn't think of it sooner."

They both knew that it was no servant's place to suggest such a thing. Still, it was kind of Mary to say.

Together the walked through to the front of the house. Joan was surprised by the number of servants that had gathered. There were several footman, upstairs maids, downstairs maids, two wash women, Cook, Cook's three assistants and an errand boy. It was a rather large staff for a household serving a lone man. More so when you considered the fact that Marcus appeared rarely at home and never entertained. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Joan said after the introductions had been made. "I look forward to getting to know you all better. Cook, Mary and Shelly will you follow me, please?" Joan didn't wait for an answer, just turned and made her way to her new sitting room at the back of the house.

Joan turned and waited as the three other women followed her into the sitting room. "Shelly, take a couple of the other maids and a footman with you to retreive my needlepoint and writing desk."

"Which of the needlepoint will you be wanting?" Shelly asked.

"All of them," Joan said. "I want to move all of my sewing projects down here."

"Yes, my lady." Shelly curtsied before hurrying from the room.

"Cook," Joan turned to the older woman with a smile. "I was hoping you might be willing to add one or two of these dishes to your current rotation of meals." Joan pulled a list she'd prepared earlier from her pocket and handed it to a surprised Cook. "They're just your basic description of a couple of my favorite meals that were prepared in my house growing up. I'm sure you probably already have something similar and if so I would love to try it. If not then perhaps you might try and come up with something. Whatever it is I'm sure it would be wonderful - as all your meals have been. I'll leave to you to decide when and how to work them into the menu."

Cook took the list and gave it a quick once over - there was nothing particularly difficult and the young mistress was correct, she already had several similar dishes that would do nicely. Still, she bristled a bit at the direction.

"Oh!" Joan said, her smile growing even brighter. "I didn't write it down but if you would be so good as to prepare that fig and honey dessert again some time soon. That was quiet possibily the best thing I've ever had."

"My lady?" Cook looked up from the list.

"The night before last," Joan clarified. "I don't know what you did with it but it was warm and sticky and absolutely amazing."

Cook's stiff shoulders relaxed slightly at the compliment. "Of course, my lady. I'll be sure to add it into this week's menu."

"Thank you," Joan said, knowing full well how prickly senior staff could be. "I must admit that figs are one of my favorite - well, that and chocolate. Really, anything sweet. I have a rather incureable sweettooth," she admitted with a slight blush. "I've really enjoyed your tea service, the scones are the best I've ever had though if you tell my mother's cook I'll deny it to my last breath!"

Cook gave a genuine smile of pleasure. "It pleases me to hear that you enjoy them so much. I make 'em fresh every morning."

"Well, they're wonderful," Joan said.

"If I may, my lady, perhaps you would like to review the menu?" Cook suggested.

Mary couldn't stop her start of surprise. Cook was notoriously protective of what she considered her domain. She rarely allowed anyone in her kitchen and had never been known to consult even his lordship on the menu.

"I would like that," Joan said. "Perhaps you could put together a menu and we can review it later this afternoon and then once a week thereafter."

"Aye, my lady, that sounds like a fine plan," Cook said.

Mary watched Cook hurry from the room before turning back to Lady Edington. She was quickly coming to re-evaluate her initial impressions of the young woman. At first Lady Edington seemed content to stay in her rooms hiding from the rest of the house and quite possibly the world. Servants talked and it was no secret that Lady Edington had been forced into marriage with his lordship. 

Still, the staff had taken to serving her ladyship in her room knowing that an uninterested mistress was better then an overbearing and controlling one. Mary had come to think that the new Lady Edington didn't have it in her to run a house as a lady should. Perhaps she'd been wrong. The past few hours had shown her young mistress to have a vein of strength beneath her delicate exterier. "My lady, is there anything I can get you?"

"Please, have seat," Joan sat on the chaise and indicated the chair across from her. Mary would be considered a senior level servant - one that had run Lord Edington's home prior to his marriage. "I know that my marriage to his lordship was...unexpected. It is my hope that the news wasn't entirely unwelcome and that you and I can find a way to work together. You have done a fabulous job running the house and I have no desire to disrupt what you have here. However, I was raised for one thing and one thing only and that is to be mistress of my own home. I find myself at odds with little to do throughout the day and I'm hoping that you can help me find my place here."

Mary sat up a little straighter, her hands clasped in her lap. "I've worked for the Edingtons for well over twenty years, first as a downstairs maid, then an upstairs maid and finally taking over as housekeeper when old Maggie passed away. The Edingtons have always been good to me, to all of the servants which is why we stay. His lordship is a good master if a bit absent and distracted but he doesn't take advantage of the maids and doesn't tolerate anyone that does. Having said that," and here Mary paused to gather her thoughts, "it would be a welcome relief to have a mistress of the house that was willing and able to oversee the servants and make decisions. As it stands, there is plenty of work that doesn't get done for want of his lordship's permission."

Joan felt her heart clench at what was obviously a loving but neglected household. What had happened to drive her husband away from his own home? Leaving that thought for another day, Joan gave Mary what she hoped was a warm smile. "I would be delighted to do what I can. Hence forth we will meet each day to review the needs of the household. We can start with the accounts and servants' schedules and duties and go from there. Once I'm familiar with how the house runs we can start to divide tasks between us. Maybe two hours each afternoon to start with."

Mary was nodding her head vigourously. "I think that is a marvolous idea, my lady."

"Excellent!" Joan sat back feeling inordinately pleased with herself and with the progress she'd made so far.

"My lady?" Mary asked.

"Yes?"

"I wonder if we might start with the correspondence?" Mary said.

"What about it?" Joan asked.

"His lordship has us leave it on his desk only he rarely has time to read through everything. I'm not so worried about the social invitiations and announcements that arrive. However, there are several of the house accounts that get billed to his lordship only they go unpaid. Eventually, the shopkeepers stop delivering until the accounts are brought current. It's not for lack of funds," Mary quickly reassurred Lady Edington. "It's just that his lordship doesn't have the time..."

"...or inclination," Joan muttered.

"...until the situation is brought to his attention." Mary didn't bother to describe what that usually involved as it was an unpleasant experience for everyone concerned.

"No worries," Joan reassured the housekeeper. "First thing after breakfast bring any correspondence that have been delivered up until now to me here. I'll sort through the missives and anything business related can be placed back on his lordship's desk. I'll speak with Lord Edington and ensure that he has a separate household account set up that we can work from." She didn't mention that she had no idea when she might next see her husband.

"Thank you, my lady!" Mary stood. "If I may suggest, you've had a busy morning, why don't I bring you your tea early and you can enjoy it while revewing the correspondence?"

"That would be lovely," Joan said, a little surprised at the ease with which the housekeeper had turned to her.

Mary turned and started from the room.

"Oh, and Mary, some of Cook's scones?" Joan called as Mary started down the hall. She would have sworn the housekeeper was laughing as she went.

****

Sabrina arrived in London bone weary and in desperate need of a bath. Four days on the road ridding in a carriage had left layers of grime on her skin that she thought might never come off. The only good thing was that the wet weather helped to keep the dust down. 

Mae had made for a quiet traveling companion, the older woman staring out at the passing countryside stirring only to stretch her legs or join Sabrina and Douglas in a meal. Sabrina was familiar with grief, if in a different form, and knew that sometimes the best thing a person could do was leave you to it.

"We're here," Douglas said opening the carriage door and offering his hand. Sabrina was surprised when Mae insisted that she go first.




English Rose Ch. 07



"You're the Duchess of Radcliff now," Mae said gently. 

Sabrina turned to Douglas blinking in surprise.

"She's correct," Douglas said and offered his wife his hand.

"The same goes for you, young man," Mae said, as he helped her from the carriage. "Your father would have wanted you to step into the title with pride."

Douglas stared down to where his aunt stood on his left, Sabrina on his right. "I know you're right but he left such big shoes to fill."

"Don't try," was Mae advice. "Be your own man and make of it what you will. Whatever you do will make him proud."

Douglas nodded and together the three of them mounted the steps of the Duke and Duchess of Radcliff's London townhouse. 

****

Marcus let himself in. It was late although considerably early for him. It had become harder and harder to stay away from his wife. He found his thoughts turning to her throughout the day and felt anticipation grow as the day turned into night. Surprisingly, he had found himself literally counting down the hours until he could return to her, anxious to find her in her bed.

Leaning back against the closed door behind him, Marcus wondered at himself, at what was happening to him. In the weeks since his wedding, Marcus had faithfully drunk, gamed and gambled his way into oblivion hoping to push back the demons and keep the darkness at bay. Only it wasn't the booze that brought him his greatest relief, it was the slender arms of one pixie like woman that brought him peace. There was only one problem, that was the same path his father had chosen and look where that had gotten the late Lord Edington.

Scrubbing his face with his hands, Marcus pushed away from the door when a light from the back of the house caught his attention. 

Frowning, Marcus started towards the source. It was late for any of the servants to be above stairs unless called and all of them new better then to leave a light burning unattended. Expecting to find a wayward servant up to no good, Marcus was surprised to find his bride sound asleep in his mother's former sitting room.

A quick look around proved that Joan had been using the room for sometime and had made herself comfortable. Furious and feeling slightly nauseas at having to enter the room, Marcus nevertheless strode purposefully across the room and gave the bell pull a fierce yank.

Fists clenched at his sides, Marcus waited for several minutes watching his wife as she continued to sleep unaware.

"My lady, you...my lord!" Mary came to an abrupt halt at the sight of her obviously angry master.

"What is she doing here?" Marcus ground out.

"Marcus?" Joan called sleepily. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," he ground out not bothering to turn around. "I asked you a question," he snapped, his eyes locked on his housekeeper's face.

"I'm sorry, my lord. Her ladyship ordered the room opened and her things brought down." Mary twisted the skirts of her hastily thrown on dress in her hands.

A sick fury drove Marcus as he said, "You will pack up her things, move them back upstairs and lock up the room."

"Yes, my lord." Mary started to leave the room.

"You will not." Joan said. "Mary, take yourself back to bed. I will deal with his lordship."

"Trust me, wife, when I say you do not want to deal with me at this moment," Marcus said. "Mary, do as ordered. Now."

Eyes wide, Mary looked from her master to her mistress. "I am sorry, my lady," she said and went to find a footman.

Joan felt her shoulders slump as she watched the housekeeper hurry from the room. All of the progress she'd made over the past few weeks destroyed in a matter of moments. Furious, she turned to her husband. "I have no idea what has come over you or what your problem is but I refuse to stay locked away like some unfortunate relative. I am your wife, not your servant, and I intent to live as such." 

Joan spoke with a quiet, unexpected fury. "You can move me out of this room and tomorrow I'll find another and another and another until I find some place in this godforsaken house for myself. The only thing you may need a wife for is to warm your bed but I need more than that. Now, if you'll excuse me I think I'll retire for the evening."

Marcus watched as his wife stalked from the room, her steps clipped in anger. Taking a deep breath he tried to calm his racing heart. His fury at finding her in his mother's sitting room had yet to subside, the memories of this place making him break out in a sick sweat. With a curse he strode from the room closing the door behind him.

"Leave it, for now," he told Mary as he passed her on his way to his rooms.

Entering the master suites, Marcus crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. It didn't escape his notice that it was his first of the evening. More and more he passed up the booze and instead turned to his wife, their evenings together holding off the darkness unlike anything before. Tonight had been a stark reminder that in that way lay ruin - for them both.

Drinking deeply, Marcus considered the door to his wife's rooms. As the liquor blazed a trail down the back of his throat he found himself considering her words to him. Had he been treating her like a servant? In truth, he hadn't given it much thought - hadn't given her much thought since their marriage. He had never wondered, never asked how she spent her day. Too busy burying himself in her willing flesh, he'd assumed she found whatever ways to entertain herself that all young woman...

Marcus swore. Only she was no longer a young woman. She was his wife. Too late he realized that once she'd married him she'd lost what little freedom she'd had. Until she was formerly introduced into society as his wife any appearance by her alone would be considered scandolous. Given the rush with which they were married, anything short of proper behavior from Joan would be questioned.

He'd screwed up. Joan had every reason to be upset with him and his behavior this evening had only made things worse. While it was the first time he knew it wouldn't be the last. He owed her an apology - for tonight, for all the days since she'd come to live with him as his wife and for all the days still to come. Chances were it wouldn't get any better, would only get worse the longer she stayed. He didn't just owe her an apology - he owed her her freedom.

Determined, for once, to do the right thing, Marcus set down his drink and went to let himself into his wife's rooms.

Joan ignored the knock at her door. Eyeing the keys sitting on the bedside table, she closed her eyes knowing that short of breaking down the door Marcus was barred from getting in.

****

"It really is hideous," Sabrina said eyeing herself in the mirror. The black mourning dress had been delivered early that morning. The color actually seemed to go well with her dark hair, green eyes and olive skin. But the sight of all that black combined with the black draped across the windows and mirrors left her feeling morbid and depressed.

"Charles would have hated it," Mae said from her spot on the couch. "He would have hated seeing you in it even more."

Sabrina caught sight of Mae's reflection in the mirror. "I always thought of the Duke as a stickler for etiquette."

Mae shrugged. "In some ways, but in others - not so much." 

Sabrina caught the small smile and the touch of remembered humor as Mae got swept up in the memory of her brother. "He used to drive me crazy when we were young. Like most young men he had two sets of rules, one for him and one for his sister. I never told him but I'm sure he knew that a fair number of my youthful escapades were nothing more than an attempt to rile his temper."

"He adored you, Mae." Sabrina said without turning from the mirror.

"That he did," Mae agreed. "Though he blamed himself for me being a widow at such a young age."

"How so?" Sabrina asked. She knew very little about Mae's husband, just that their's had been a love match and that he'd died at a young age.

"Charles encouraged me to marry young. Our parents had died and he was new to the title. He felt pressure to see me cared for as well as to find a wife and settle down himself. He arranged for us to marry and bestowed a generous dowry. It was more money then my husband had ever managed before and he went a little bit wild. Nothing more then any young man of a similar age but it was during one of his wilder evenings that he was thrown from his horse and killed. Charles thought that if it wasn't for the money Henry would have been home with me."

"Surely you don't believe that?" Sabrina asked.

Mae looked up with a sad smile. "No, I know better. Henry loved life, lived it to the fullest no matter how empty his pockets. I think he was always fated to die young."

Motion at the door drew the ladies attention. "Douglas," Sabrina said and smiled. "How did it go?"

Douglas had spent the day with the solicitor working out the details of his new estate. A sizeable portion of it had been passed on to him years before when his father legally recognized him. However, the bulk of the estate was titled and came only upon his father's death. "Fine," Douglas said and frowned. "That's a horrible color."

"Douglas!" Mae exclaimed.

Sabrina laughed. "It's alright, Mae, he's right."

"Take the damn thing off and burn it," Douglas ordered. "My father would have hated it and I won't see you wearing it around the house."

"Douglas," Sabrina said softly. "Your father was a duke as are you. As much as I hate to admit it, Mae was right. We have to get used to it and for now that means adhering to the protocols of mourning."

"Very well," Douglas said, "but only when you leave the house or receive guests. Otherwise, you wear what is comfortable. Wear the green dress, it was my father's favorite."

****

"Are you always up so bloody early?"

Joan's head snapped up to find her husband standing in the doorway looking extremely disgruntle. The fury from last night seemed to have passed, his frown due more to the early hour of the morning. "There's no need to curse," was all Joan could think to say.

"Trust me, being up this early is every reason to curse." Marcus pushed off from the doorframe and went to join his wife at the breakfast table. Last night having found her door locked to him, Marcus had ordered his man to wake him as soon as Lady Edington rose for the day. 

He had retired with every intention of setting her free. He would introduce her to society and then set her up in her own home, a home without the painful memories, a home without him. He'd thought it the perfect plan - right up until the moment he'd walked in to see her sitting alone, breakfasting and reading the morning edition.

Her presence transformed the room. This one room was light and bright, the shadows striped away to create a spot of warmth in a house long gone cold. In that moment he'd know that, for better or worse, she was here to stay.

"My lord?" 

"I'll have what the lady is having," Marcus said.

Joan waited while the footman went to fetch Marcus his breakfast. The silence wasn't exactly comfortable and she found herself at an unusual loss for words. "Did you sleep well?" she finally asked.

"No," Marcus said. "But then I never do." Sitting back, Marcus eyed the plate of eggs, toast and breakfast meat as it was placed before him. There was noticably more on his plate then that of his wife. "Is that all you're having for breakfast?"

Joan stared down at her toast and single egg and nodded. "It's just a little something to start the day."

Marcus didn't respond and the two passed the next several minutes eating in silence. A short time later Marcus set aside his fork and considered his wife. "I find that I do not care for the feeling of being barred from your rooms."

"I'm familiar with the feeling," Joan said without looking up from her plate. "It's rather unpleasant."

Marcus sat back with a frown. "My intent wasn't to lock you out but to lock myself in."

Joan's eyes flew to her husband's face. "Good heavens, why?"

Marcus shook his head and bend back over his plate. He hadn't meant to confront her on the locked door or confess his reasons for the same. For some reason he didn't want her thinking that it was a rejection of her. 

The rest of the meal was spent in silence. Finished, Marcus pushed his plate away and stood. "I have work to do."

"You'll be leaving then?" Joan asked quietly.

Marcus slid his hands into the pockets of his pants and stared at his wife. "No, I thought to work from home today."

Joan recognized an olive branch and offered up the same. "Perhaps you'd care to join me later for tea?"

"I'd like that," Marcus said, surprised to find it the truth. With a nod he turned and left the breakfast room. Closing himself in his study he he bypassed the correspondence on his desk in favor of the sideboard, poured himself a generous dose of brandy and stared into the fireplace. The logs had yet to be lit and the room held a distinctive chill. Marcus didn't mind. The room with its cold shadows and dark secrets matched his mood. He was a selfish bastard, always had been and never before felt the need to apologize for it. Until now. He knew what the future held for Joan - what he'd just condemned her to - and could do nothing to stop it.

Joan waited until Marcus left before gathering her forgotten paper and walking towards the back of the house. Hands shaking, she opened the door and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd be holding. Her things were as she had left them. 

****

"Oh dear," Sabrina muttered and turned the page of the letter she'd been reading over breakfast.

"What is it, my dear?" Mae added more jam to her toast. Taking a bite, she enjoyed the moment of being back in London among the hustle and bustle of the city. While in mourning they were prevented from going out but close friends and family had started calling shortly after their arrival three weeks ago. 

Sabrina set aside her letter and considered Douglas. Her husband sat at the head of the table his head hidden behind the morning paper. "Douglas?"

"Hmmm?" Douglas didn't look out from behind the financials. His father's estates had come with a complicated set of financials that he was still getting familiar with.

"I was wondering if you would mind terribly if I made a call this afternoon?" Sabrina was wondering how long it would take her husband to realize that she was being evasive.

Having been altered by the hesitancy in his wife's voice, Douglas finally looked out from behind his paper. "No."

"Douglas..."

"I don't care what manner of trouble Edington has gotten himself into you are not to go see him." Douglas snapped his paper back into place pointedly ignoring both his wife's look of stubborn determination and Mae's hum of warning.

Sabrina bit back on the automatic response to Douglas' high handedness. Understanding its cause, she worked to achieve a reasonable tone. "Douglas, I do not wish to call on Lord Edington."

"No?" Douglas asked in some surprise. "Then who?" Sabrina was careful to observe the strict dictates of society which meant no social calls while still in deep mourning. That fact made her willingness to break with tradition extremely unexpected.

"Lady Edington," Sabrina said.

"For the love of..." Douglas said in exasperation. "That's not much better than calling on the man himself."

"Read this," Sabrina said and handed the letter to Douglas.

Douglas glanced at the envelop that accompanied the letter. Recognizing Ellie's name he quickly turned to the passage Sabrina had pointed out to him. A moment later his brow rose in surprise followed by a muttered curse.

"I'm sure Marcus has no idea. He very rarely concerns himself with polite society and given the situation it appears no one has thought to tell Lady Edington." Sabrina took back her letter and set it aside.

"Sabrina," Douglas said in obvious exasperation. "Why do you insist on meddling in the man's affairs?"

"In this case I'm less concerned with Marcus and more worried about his wife," Sabrina said. "She's young and innocent..."

"Not for long," Douglas muttered.

Sabrina ignored her husband. "Lady Edington wasn't out long before that whole incident with Marcus. I'm sure she could use some support."

"And I'm sure that she has friends and family that are more than willing to offer her both," Douglas said.

"With all due respect, Lady Edington's family is not nearly as capable of handling the situation as..." Sabrina trailed off realizing how egotistical she was about to sound.

"As yourself?" Douglas asked.

"Well, yes, though I realize how that sounds." Sabrina flushed slightly. "Please, Douglas. I would be a friend to Lady Edington."

"Do you really think she would welcome your offer of friendship given your history with her husband?" Douglas asked gently. They had come a long way and he was no longer angry over Sabrina's relationship with Edington. However, he doubted very much that the new Lady Edington would welcome overtures of friendship from her husband's former lover. He hated to see Sabrina put herself out there only to face hurt and rejection.

"Maybe not," Sabrina admitted. "But I would offer it and let her make the choice for herself."

Douglas considered his wife's determined expression and silently admitted defeat. He knew better than to stand in her way. "Very well," Douglas said. "You'll take a footman and your maid and I will see you back here for supper."

"Of course," Sabrina said. Standing, she went to press a quick kiss to Douglas' cheek before excusing herself to dress. 

****

"Your Grace," Dillon said masking his surprise.

"Hello, Dillon," Sabrina said and stepped into the foyer.

"My apologizes," Dillon said, "Lord Edington is not receiving."

"No worries," Sabrina said. "I've come to see Lady Edington." Sabrina handed a surprised Dillon her card, "Please ask if she is receiving."

"Of course, your grace," Dillon said. As he turned, he added, "If I may be so bold, the entire staff would like to offer you and your family our deepest sympathies."

"Thank you, Dillon," Sabrina said, unsurprised. The entire ton mourned the duke's passing.

"My lady, Lady Radcliff, the Duchess of Spiegel asks if you are receiving," Dillon announced.

Joan looked up from her book in surprise before jumping from her chair. "Of course! Please show her in and ask Mary to bring in tea."

"Yes, ma'am," Dillon said.

Joan waited anxiously until she heard crisp, feminine footsteps coming towards the sitting room. A quick hand over her hair assured her that all was in place.

"Her Grace, the Duchess of Spiegel," Dillon announced bowing deep at the waist as Sabrina stepped into the room.

Joan dipped a deep curtsy, "Your Grace."

"Lady Edington," Sabrina said and offered what she hoped was a friendly smile. Having come she was suddenly unsure of her decision and nervous at her reception. "Thank you for seeing me unannounced."

"Of course," Joan said and indicated two chairs. "Will you sit?"

"Thank you," Sabrina said. Taking a seat she shook out her skirts and watched Lady Edington join her. The young woman was as beautiful as Sabrina remembered with blond hair and blue eyes. Unfortunately, Sabrina didn't miss the slight tightening around those blue eyes or the tinge of quiet sadness that seemed to weigh down on the young woman. 

The two sat quietly through the arrival of tea, Joan gracefully pouring for them both. "Milk and sugar?"

"Yes, please." Sabrina accepted her cup and took a fortifying sip.

"I highly recommend the scones, they're my favorite," Joan said and offered Lady Radcliff a plate of the tasty confections.

"Thank you," Sabrina said. "This is a lovely room," she added looking around as Lady Edington took her seat and settled her tea. She had seen very little of Marcus' townhouse and was surprised to find such a warm, sunny room tucked in at the back of the manor.




English Rose Ch. 07



Joan looked around at the room she had made her own. It was small for a sitting room but comfortable and she'd come to love the time she spent here. "Thank you, it has a lovely little garden with a fountain if you care to step outside later?"

"Hmmm," Sabrina said noncommittally and took another sip of tea.

Sabrina had come by to check in on the young woman. While she had encouraged Marcus to offer for her, Sabrina had no delusions and suspected that the start of this particular marriage would be a rough one. She had grown even more concerned with the recent rumors and the fact that Lady Edington had yet to be seen in society with her new husband.

Diving in, Sabrina asked, "How are you settling in?"

"Well enough," Joan said. How could she tell this woman that she still felt like a stranger in what was supposed to be her own home? "It's an adjustment, of course."

"Of course," Sabrina said. "I trust that Marc...er...Lord Edington is treating you well?"

"We're getting on well enough," Joan said. In truth she wasn't sure what to make of Marcus. Their nights together were unlike anything she had ever imagined while the days alone left her feeling sad and unwanted. Of course, Marcus had never really wanted a wife - she knew that - but she had hoped that once matters were settled there could be friendship, happiness and perhaps even eventually love between them. 

"Well," Sabrina said, "that's how most marriages start."

Carefully setting her tea aside, Joan asked, "Begging your pardon, your grace, but is there something I can do for you?"

Sabrina also set aside her tea. "No, actually, I was hoping that there might be something I could do for you."

"I'm not sure I understand," Joan admitted.

"It's simple, really." Sabrina said. "I consider myself a friend to Lord Edington. Should you choose I would like to extend that friendship to you."

"I see," Joan said though she didn't, not really. Like everyone, she knew about Lady Radcliff and her marriage to the dashingly dark new duke. She thought the tale wildly romantic but she'd never heard either of the Radcliff's linked to her husband. Unfortunately, before Joan could answer, the unmistakable sound of her husband's boots upon the marble floor came echoing into the room. 

Turning to the door, Joan spied Marcus for the first time since breakfast. "Marcus. I'm sorry, I'd forgotten we were to take tea together."

Marcus felt his heart slow its racing beat. News of Sabrina's arrival had reached him and sent him nearly running to intercept her. He had no doubt that Sabrina was here to 'help' and had decided it was time she learn to mind her own business. Apparently, Radcliff was wholly incapable of keeping his wife on a leash. 

Marcus stopped as he reached the library, any words of admonishment dying on his lips at seeing Sabrina gowned in black. He could kick himself. Absorbed in his own drama he hadn't heard the news of the duke's passing. He knew that Sabrina had cared a great deal for her father and would be saddened at the loss. She had always been there for him, whether he wanted her or not, and he had failed to do the same for her. "Sabrina."

"Hello, Marcus," Sabrina said, "you're looking well," she lied.

"My condolences," he said. "I'm sorry, I hadn't heard otherwise I would have..."

"Thank you," she said, cutting him off.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"We returned to London a few weeks ago," she hedged. "Mae understandably wanted to spend some time away from Arlington Park."

"Of course," Marcus said, "but rather what are you doing here," he asked.

"Marcus!" Joan exclaimed, horrified. "Her Grace was kind enough to extent an offer of friendship..."

"Sabrina." Marcus wouldn't be waylaid by his wife. 

"I came to call on your wife and offer her my congratulations," Sabrina said.

"That is very kind of you," Marcus said and it was. Despite her own scandalous ties to Marcus, Sabrina was a formidable force within the ton. His wife's social standing would be assured with Sabrina's support.

"She doesn't know," Sabrina said, taking up her tea once more. She wasn't surprised. Lady Edington, while still Miss Whitman had been a young, unmarried lady. Having been raised by two loving parents she would have been protected from the worst of the ton's gossip. Since it appeared that Marcus had yet to introduce his new bride to the ton there had been no opportunity for anyone to inform her of his most recent adventures. But they would - soon and with cruelty.

"No," Marcus confirmed, his lips thinning in displeasure.

"She should," she said. "It's only fair."

Marcus nodded but didn't immediately say anything.

"Well, if you'll excuse us, Lady Edington and I have much to discuss," Sabrina said dismissing Marcus.

Joan watched in surprise as Marcus gave Lady Radcliff a respectable bow before turning on his heels and heading back the way he had come. Now a duchess, Lady Radcliff obviously outranked Marcus but she didn't think that was why he had so easily accepted her dismissal.

"Lady Edington," Sabrina started and then snorted. "I really detest formality, may I call you Joan?"

"Of course," Joan said automatically.

"Joan, I meant what I said. I consider myself a friend to Marcus and it is my hope that you and I may become better acquainted. However, before that can happen I feel it only fair that you know something of my...prior relationship with Marcus." Sabrina was trying to be delicate but found the situation hard to explain. "Not long before your marriage to Marcus I found myself...estranged...from my husband. It was during that time that Marcus and I developed a friendship of sorts."

Joan blinked. Realizing her mouth had fallen open she snapped it shut with an audible click. "I see," she said. Clenching her fingers in her lap, she clarified, "You had an affair with my husband."

Lady Radcliff visibly cringed. "Not exactly," she said and barely held back a flush. It was extremely uncomfortable discussing her past behavior with a woman she'd only just met. "But we were...close...for a time and I thought it important that you know before deciding on a friendship."

Joan was speechless. Staring at the duchess she could imagine all too well what Marcus had seen in her. Tall with voluptuous curves, glorious dark hair and piercing green eyes the duchess was a beautiful woman and considered exotic by ton standards. Joan felt her heart sink at the visual representation of her husband's preferences. 

Realizing that Lady Radcliff was waiting for some kind of response, she said, "I appreciate your honestly."

"I abhor lies and half truths," Lady Radcliff said with surprising venom. "I would much rather know now that my past with Marcus will be an issue for you then garner your friendship only to loose it later."

Joan wasn't sure how she felt about the news that her husband had engaged in an affair with Lady Radcliff. Actually, she knew exactly how she felt - she didn't like it, not one bit.

"You should know," Sabrina said. "I love my husband dearly and have no desire whatsoever to repeat past mistakes."

Joan looked up to find the duchess watching her and had suspected that the woman knew exactly how Joan felt and what she had been thinking. "You and your husband have reconciled?" It was an extremely impolite question to ask. One did not inquire into the state of another person's marriage but Joan needed to know exactly where both she and the duchess stood with respect to Marcus.

"Yes," Sabrina said. "We still have our moments and Douglas is not overly fond of Marcus. But he has accepted the past and my continued friendship with your husband."

Joan was quiet for a moment, despite her issues with her husband she recognized Lady Radcliff's offer for what it was and knew it to be genuine. "Well," she said carefully, "it just so happens that I could really use a friend right about now."

"Oh, I'm so glad!" Sabrina said and then cringed. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"No worries," Joan said.

Sabrina smiled and watched as Joan considered her next words. It was obvious that the young woman had something on her mind.

"Your grace..."

"Sabrina."

Joan smiled. "Sabrina, if you don't mind me asking, were you the only one my husband was having an affair with?"

Sabrina blinked in surprise, that was not the question she had been expecting. "Ah, well, at the time, yes." Stalling, she carefully rearranged her napkin in her lap. "Marcus and I had an understanding between us that there would be no others. It's not unusual when two people...that is...neither one of us were looking to...ah." Realizing that she was babbling, Sabrina stopped herself, took a deep breath and said, "I was not Marcus' first lover but at the time I was his only lover. Why do you ask?"

Joan hesitated before rising and crossing to a small writing desk and returning with a stack of letters. Sabrina could see by the feminine handwriting that each one was written by a woman.

"These are just the ones that arrived over the past few days," Joan said handing the letters to Sabrina.

Sabrina took the top most letter and opened it. Immediately, she was assaulted by the overpowering scent of perfume. "Oh my," she said having read the salutation and the first few lines. Quickly, her eyes dropped to the bottom of the page going wide at the author's name.

"They're all like that," Joan admitted fingering the pile she had placed on her lap. 

"You read them?" Sabrina asked, surprised.

Joan blushed furiously, "At first I thought they were invitations. They arrived right after our wedding so it didn't strike me as odd that I wasn't included on the direction. They obviously weren't business related."

"Well, they are invitations - of a sort," Sabrina said with a weak attempt at humor. Joan gave her a small smile in return. "My time with Marcus was...limited," Sabrina said. "While I don't know much about his past affairs, I do know something about being married to a highly sought after peer."

"Your husband received such...invitations?" Joan asked.

"In the beginning," Sabrina admitted, handing Joan back the letter. "Men like Marcus and Douglas are always sought after - marriage won't change that. Of course, they are not the only ones - you should prepare yourself."

"For what?" Joan asked.

"For invitations of your own," Sabrina said. "Most marriages are a matter of convenience and yours, as far as the ton is concerned - is no exception. You are more sought after now than you were before."

Joan had never considered the possibility that Marcus wouldn't be faithful. Her parents were happily married and she had expected the same for herself. Of course, she'd also thought to marry a man of her choosing and not someone with Marcus' troubled past. "Is Marcus of such a belief?" she asked.

"I think that is a question better asked of your husband," Sabrina hedged. Marcus was indeed one to engage in an affair with a married lady - he preferred them that way. However, Sabrina was hoping his own marriage to Joan would change all of that.

"What do you suggest I do with the letters?" Joan asked.

"Burn them," Sabrina said without hesitation, "and any more that should arrive."

***

Marcus sat staring at the study door. He had no doubt that Sabrina would be stopping by on her way out. It was unsettling, to say the least, to have his former lover meeting with his wife, especially given the topic of conversation. He trusted Sabrina to take care in explaining their past relationship. Unlike other members of the ton she would strive not to hurt his wife's feelings. Unfortunately, no woman likes to hear about her husband's past relations. The fact that it had to come from one such woman instead of Marcus was likely to add insult to injury.

It had never occurred to him to discuss his past with Joan. Unlike his wife, he was not expected to remain pure until his wedding. Hell, he wasn't expected to remain pure after his wedding though to date he had taken no other lover. Surprisingly, the thought of leaving another woman's bed to join his wife left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Come," Marcus ordered at sound of the knock he'd been waiting for.

"Marcus," Sabrina said in greeting.

"Sabrina," Marcus said and stood.

Sabrina was surprised when Marcus circled his desk to cross the room and take her hand.

Marcus pressed a chaste hiss to Sabrina's cheek before escorting her to a seat in front of his desk. "Again, my condolences. I wish I had known...."

"Do not trouble yourself," Sabrina assured him. "Marcus..."

"Sabrina, I appreciate you coming," Marcus said cutting her off, "but I'm not sure it was wise."

"Be that as it may, you must know that the ton is talking..."

"I couldn't care less about what those gossip mongers have to say, as you well know." Marcus took up his seat behind his desk.

"Well you should, if not for your sake than for the sake of your wife," Sabrina insisted.

"Joan and I are getting on well enough," Marcus said though he wasn't sure he spoke the truth. Perhaps the truth as he hoped it to be.

"Marcus..." Sabrina started.

"Leave it be!" Marcus snapped. "I appreciate you coming to check on my wife but..."

"Weaverly is saying that he compromised your bride prior to your marriage," Sabrina said in a rush. "He insists that she is increasing and that the babe is his. He claims that is why you haven't introduced her to the ton as the new Lady Edington."

Marcus sat in stunned silence before exploding from his chair. "I'll kill the bastard! I'll see him dead before the day is done!"

Sabrina let Marcus rant and watched as he paced behind his desk. She knew to give him a moment to blow of the first rush of rage before trying to get him to see reason.

"Where is my sword?" Marcus turned toward the door, "Dillon!"

"What are you doing?" Sabrina asked.

"I plan to call the man out," Marcus said. "Dillon!"

Dillon came rushing into the room. "Yes, my lord?"

"Where is my sword?" Marcus asked.

"Your sword?" Dillon asked in obvious confusion.

"Yes, my sword." Marcus was seeing red. He'd heard the saying many times but never believed one could actually become so enraged as to actually see life as if already tinted with his enemy's blood.

"I apologize, my lord, but I only know of your dress sword and I do believe that has been packed up along with..."

"Fine," Marcus snapped, "bring me my pistols?"

"I beg your pardon?" Dillon asked.

"You heard me!" Marcus shouted.

"Yes, sir," Dillon bowed and hurried from the room, grateful for the quick shake of her head Lady Radcliff threw him. Lady Radcliff was one of the few people that knew how best to handled his lordship. Whatever was going on she would take care of it.

"Marcus, sit down," Sabrina snapped.

Marcus glared at her but took his seat. "You brought me this bit of information, surely you didn't expect me not to act on it."

"Of course I expect you to act," Sabrina said with a slight sniff. "I expect you to act reasonably and not go off half cocked."

"Calling that bastard Weaverly out is perfectly reasonable. I should have done it right after I married Joan."

Sabrina stiffed. "Surely the rumors are not true? Did Weaverly compromise your wife?"

"No!" Marcus exclaimed. "Not for lack of trying," he added a bit more quietly.

"You rescued Joan from Weaverly, didn't you?" Flabbergasted, Sabrina slumped in her chair. "That's how you came to be there that night only everyone assumed you were the one responsible for Miss...er...Lady Edington's dishevelment."

Marcus nodded at Sabrina's correct assessment. "Joan begged me not to mention Weaverly's name. She quickly understood the situation, knew that the man had attempted to compromise her in an effort to gain her dowry. I couldn't blame her for not wanting marriage to Weaverly. The man is a drunk that lost his entire fortune to the hells."

Sabrina snorted. "Look who's talking."

Marcus' eyes narrowed without humor. "I never bet more than I can stand to lose."

"True," Sabrina agreed.

"Joan and I came to an agreement. I would let the world believe I had compromised her and she would accept the consequences knowing that I wouldn't offer for her." Marcus sat back suddenly weary. He'd made a mess of things where his wife was concerned. From day one every step he'd taken had been a misstep.

"Marcus," Sabrina said softly, "calling Weaverly out will only succeed in making more gossip. If you kill the man there will be many that believe you did so to silence him from speaking the truth. The best thing to do would be to introduce your wife to society and let them see for themselves. It won't take long for everyone to see that she isn't increasing." 

Marcus frowned but couldn't dispute Sabrina's statement. "Very well," he said. "But when this is over I will have it out with Weaverly."

"I would expect nothing less," Sabrina said. Standing she shook out her skirts and headed for the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me my husband is expecting me home."

"Sabrina," Marcus called. Sabrina stopped and looked back over her shoulder at Marcus. "Thank you," he said, "for caring enough to come."

Sabrina gave him a small smile. "I told you before, you have my friendship whether you wish it or not."

****

"You enjoyed your visit with Lady Radcliff?" Marcus asked.

Joan looked up from her book to find Marcus watching her from the doorway. "Indeed," she said. "She's very charming...and beautiful. I can see why you like her."

Marcus didn't so much as flinched at the obvious knowledge in his wife's eyes. "I won't apologize for something that happened before we were married."

"I don't expect you to," Joan said. "I do appreciate her honesty," she added quietly. There had been several uncomfortable moments after Lady Radcliff's confession. Somehow they had muddled through and Joan was feeling optimistic about their chances at a friendship - something she desperately needed right now.

"Sabrina prizes honesty over just about anything," Marcus said with a touch of humor. Leaning against the door he couldn't help but notice the gold highlights the fire cast upon his wife's hair. "The Huntington's are having their annual gala tomorrow night, perhaps you would care to join me?"

Joan's head snapped up in surprise. It was the first invitation Marcus has issued since their marriage. "I would like that," she said.

"Good," Marcus said and bowed, "until tonight."

Joan nodded and watched as Marcus excused himself and left the room, she would have sworn he was looking uncomfortable and not at all forward to the evening's event.

****

"I'm sorry, my lord, Lady Huntington is not receiving," the butler said with an apologetic bow.

"Tell her it's Lord Edington," Marcus said and handed the man his card. "I guarantee she'll see me."

The butler bowed and hurried up the stairs. Marcus waited in the foyer until the lady's maid came hurrying towards him. "I apologize, my lord, if you'll follow me?"

The maid, well aware of her lady's previous relationship with the Lord Edington, escorted the handsome man up the stairs and into her lady's private quarters.

"Marcus!" Gloria, Lady Huntington, sat at her dressing table smiling at Marcus' reflection as he entered her room.

"Gloria, it's good to see you," Marcus said and dropped a quick kiss to the lady's cheek before taking a seat on one of the room's many couches. "You look lovely."

"Thank you," Gloria said and went back to painting her face. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"I plan to attend your gala tonight," Marcus said, "along with my wife."

Gloria raised one delicate brow in surprise. "I must say, I was surprised to hear you'd married the chit."




English Rose Ch. 07



"Be careful, Gloria, where my wife is concerned."

Gloria tipped her head in acknowledgement of the warning. "My apologies. So what do you need from me?"

"A very public, very obvious show of your support," Marcus said. "Not just yours but also that of your husband and anyone else of note."

"So you've heard the rumors?" Gloria asked.

"As have you, I see." Marcus said grimly.

"Of course," Gloria said with a apologetic smile. "Men are naive to think that the only place where knowledge is power is in politics. All knowledge is power."

"And you seek to acquire both," Marcus said. It wasn't a question, he'd known Gloria for years and knew her to be much more then just a pretty face. In truth, she wasn't one of the ton's most notable beauties, however she possessed more power and influence than most men of his acquaintance. It was her ability to use it that had drawn Marcus into her bed while it was respect for her that had drawn him out of it.

Gloria dipped her fingertips into a pot of cream. Crossing her legs, she allowed her robe to fall open revealling one long, lean leg. "And in exchange for my support?"

Marcus watched, appreciating the view, as Gloria rubbed lotion into her legs. "What do you want?"

Gloria considered. "I assume this isn't a personal favor you are asking of me?"

"No," Marcus said but not without a hint of regret. It had been two years since his affair with Gloria and he wasn't looking to repeat history. Still, she was a delightful companion in bed.

"Your wife," Gloria began, "why did you marry her?"

Marcus looked up from Gloria's exposed flesh in surprise. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, if I'm going to do this thing for you - and there is no guarantee that I am - I think I have a right to know." Gloria was disappointed to see Marcus' attention no longer fixated on her legs. It was a distraction technique she'd used many times to no small amount of success.

Marcus lifted one golden brow. "Right?"

Gloria shrugged her shoulder. "Regardless, those of us that know you don't believe for a moment you compromised the young woman. Perhaps there is a larger, unseen plan at work here though I don't see any political or financial gain from the marriage."

Marcus considered Gloria without answering. He had no desire to tell her that in a moment of drunken weakness he had thought to find happiness with his wife. 

Gloria's brow wrinkled slightly in a frown. "Give me something, Marcus. My reputation would be ruined if it ever got out that I simply did you a favor."

"Your reputation can withstand it," Marcus assured her, "but I am willing to pay for the favor. You simply need name your price."

Gloria turned back to the mirror watching Marcus' reflection. "A favor, to be named at some future date and time."

"You want me to agree to something without knowing the terms?" Marcus asked.

"You're asking me to make a public display of support as well as arrange introductions to some of my most sought after guests. It's no small thing you ask. I will likely have to call in several other favors in return."

Marcus shrugged, "Convince them that it is you doing a favor for them, they'll owe you one in return."

Gloria laughed, "You do know how to play the game, don't you Marcus?"

"Of course," Marcus said. "I usually chose not to."

"But for your wife you'd be willing to," Gloria confirmed.

Marcus tipped his head.

"Very well," Gloria said masking her surprise. Whatever Marcus had going on she had learned all she was going to - for now. Sometimes, simply knowing that there was something afoot was enough. "I will ensure that you and your bride are properly introduced into society."

"Thank you," Marcus said as he stood. "I knew I could count on you."

Gloria lifted her face for a kiss, "Just be sure to be on your best behavior. I will not have this favor cost me more than I can spare."

"Of course," Marcus said. "I will see myself out."

"Be a dear and send my maid back in," Gloria called out after Marcus. 

****

Marcus arrived home and went in search of his wife. He had thought to wait to see her until this evening but found that he wanted a few moments of her company.

"Where is Lady Edington?" he asked upon finding only Mary in the sitting room.

"Her ladyship had some errands to run and a call to make," Mary said. "She indicated that she would be back in plenty of time to change."

Marcus frowned. "Did she say who she was calling upon?"

"I'm certain I don't know, my lord." Mary said. "If you'd like I can check with Dillon or one of the other maids?"

"No, don't bother," Marcus said. Turning from the room he found himself strangely disappointed at having missed seeing his wife. What the bloody hell was he supposed to do about that?

****

Joan approached the front door nervously and knocked. Behind her Shelly waited with obvious anxiety.

"Are you sure this is proper, my lady?" Shelly asked eyeing the formidable door leading to an even more impressive house. 

The Radcliff townhouse easily took up the entire block and perhaps part of the next one. Despite its massive size the structure gave off a warm, welcoming air that helped to settle Joan's nerves. "It will be fine."

"May I help you?"

Joan offered a tentative smile to the rough looking servant that answered the door. "Hello, is Lady Radcliff receiving?"

"May I tell her who is calling?" Jared stood back and motioned for the two women to enter.

Joan offered her card. "Lady Edington."

Jared took the offered card before escorting Lady Edington and her maid into the library. "If you'll wait here I will inquire as to whether her grace is receiving."

"Thank you." Joan looked around the large library. Impressed by its large size she nevertheless got the distinct impression that this room was actually used for its intended purpose. Well loved and worn books littered every surface, several sitting open as if awaiting the reader's return.

"Joan!" Sabrina hurried into the library. "What a lovely surprise." She had been positively floored to hear of the young lady's arrival but thrilled nevertheless.

"I do apologize for arriving unannounced," Joan said surprised when Sabrina gave her a quick embrace.

"No worries," Sabrina said with a smile. "I believe I did the same thing to you. Please have a seat."

"Thank you," Joan said noting as Shelly slipped into a corner of the room to wait quietly.

"Now, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Sabrina asked.

Joan bit at her lower lip. "I was hoping you might be able to help me."

"Of course, what do you need?"

"Well, Marcus has asked me to join him at the Huntington's gala this evening and...well...we were married so quickly and I...that is my mother..." Joan trailed off suddenly embarrassed.

"You have nothing to wear," Sabrina said grasping the situation immediately. Normally, a young lady acquired a new wardrobe upon her marriage exchanging the lighter colors of youth for the more mature cut and colors of a married lady. Because Joan was married so quickly (and Marcus no doubt completely oblivious) it was no surprise that she continued to wear her older fashions.

"No," Joan confirmed in obvious relief at Sabrina's understanding. "Not only that but I'm not entirely sure what to wear - even if I could come by it on such short notice."

"Have no fear," Sabrina said. Standing, she went to the library door and spoke a few quiet words to someone waiting on the other side. "I would offer you something of mine," Sabrina said retaking her seat. "Unfortunately, we are rather different in shape and the colors would be all wrong."

Joan smiled at the thought of trying to wear anything belonging to the tall, voluptuous duchess. "That would surely be a sight," she agreed.

"Well, we have some time," Sabrina said indicating the tea service that was being brought in. "Our scones can't compete with those of your Cook but I highly recommend the chocolate truffles, they are sure to see you swoon."

Joan smiled and accepted a lovely smelling cup of tea. Together, the two women enjoyed a few moments of quiet each settling in for whatever Sabrina had ordered up. It was a pleasant silence, nothing uncomfortable but two newly acquainted friends enjoying a cup of tea.

"So, the Huntington's gala event?" Sabrina asked with obvious thought.

"Yes," Joan confirmed. "As I said, I've never been."

"No, you wouldn't have." Sabrina was quiet for a moment before asking, "Might I offer a few words of advice?"

"Of course," Joan said. "I welcome any help you can give though I hope you'll forgive me for imposing so soon after your offer of friendship."

Sabrina waved her hand in the air. "Think nothing of it. However, Lady Huntington is the most ambitious woman I know. She's never intentionally cruel but she will use you to whatever purpose suits her best. I'm sure that's what Marcus is banking on."

"How so?" Joan asked.

"There is some...notoriety associated with your marriage to Marcus. The decision to introduce you at the gala will be seen as some what of a coup for Lady Huntington which she'll trade on without hesitation. In exchange, you and Marcus will be seen as accepted by one of the most powerful women in London. It will ensure your place within the ton as well as put to rest any lingering doubts over your marriage," Sabrina explained.

"All of that from attending one event?" Joan asked. She was no stranger to the workings of the ton but this seemed well beyond her capabilities.

"Not just any event," Sabrina clarified. "The gala is not your ordinary ball. It may appear the same as any other but there will be an...edge to the evening you won't find anywhere else."

"Have you ever attended?" Joan asked.

Sabrina nodded. "I have. It's not considered wise to pass on your first invitation to the event and as my father's daughter I was expected to attend. However, I found that Lady Huntington and her group are not so much to my taste. I haven't been back in years though I would attend this time around if I could, if only in a show of support for you and Marcus."

Joan set her tea aside and wiped her suddenly damp palms across her lap. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea. What if I do something to horribly embarrass Marcus?"

"My suggestion is that you just be yourself. You are charming and utterly without guile. In a room full of master manipulators your innocence will shine like an warm emerald in a room full of cold diamonds."

Joan flushed at the compliment. "Thank you."

A knock on the library door turned Sabrina's attention before she had a chance to say more. "Yes?"

Jared stuck his head in the room. "Madam Lisette has arrived, shall I show her in to the library?"

"No, thank you Jared. Please escort her up to my rooms, we'll continue this up there." Sabrina stood and gestured to Joan. "Come, Madam Lisette can work wonders even at the last minute."

Joan smiled feeling nervous yet hopeful. She had definitely made the right decision in seeking the duchess' help in this matter. 

Two hours later Joan left after having tried on several dresses. Most of the elegant gowns were for some other unknown lady similar in size and color as Joan. Madam Lisette had assured her that it wasn't uncommon for dresses to be traded when unexpected emergencies came up.

In the end Sabrina had suggested a beautiful sapphire blue ball gown with a wide collar and deep neckline. Madam Lisette had guaranteed the alterations to the dress would be done in time to deliver it to Marcus' townhouse.

Joan had nearly fainted at the price quoted for finishing the gown in such a rush but Sabrina had simply thrown her a smile. "Marcus can afford it," she'd assured.

****

Rushing into the foyer, Joan called for the housekeeper as she started up the stairs. She still needed to bathe and do her hair before the dress arrived and thought to have supper brought to her room. "Mary!"

"Where have you been, wife?" Marcus stepped from his study having heard his wife's carriage pull up to the front of the house.

Joan stumbled on the stairs before catching herself. Grasping the banister, she peered over the side to find Marcus glowering up at her. "I had errands to run and a call to make."

"Exactly where were you?" Marcus asked again noting his wife's evasion.

"I had some shopping to do," Joan said.

"For the past four hours?" Marcus started up the stairs towards his wife. "Yet, I see no boxes."

"I'm having things delivered," Joan said backing up a step. Marcus didn't appear angry yet his demeanor indicated clear displeasure. 

"What of this social call?"

Joan lifted her chin in subtle defiance yet took another step back as Marcus continued to stalk her. "I stopped by to see Lady Radcliff."

Marcus drew up short. "You called on Sabrina? Why?"

Joan also came to a quick stop. "Why do you care?" It was an unfair question and she knew it. Sabrina and Marcus had a history, as much as Joan might not like it, and it wasn't unreasonable for Marcus to be concerned as to the reason behind her visit with the duchess.

Marcus reached forward and grabbed Joan by the arm. "I asked you a question!" Marcus snapped. Noting the hint of panic in his voice, Marcus tried not to think about the times Sabrina had seen him at his worst. He trusted her, knew that she would never talk out of turn - even to his wife. Still, the thought of Joan learning about his past from Sabrina made Marcus' stomach pitch and roll.

Joan didn't miss the fear on Marcus' face and rushed to reassure him. "I needed her help, I have nothing appropriate to wear tonight and figured she was the best person to help on such short notice."

Embarrassed, Marcus released his wife and took a step back. "My apologies," he said. "I hadn't given any thought to whether or not you were prepared for something such as the Huntington's ball. We shall postpone."

"No!" Joan cried as Marcus turned to go back down the stairs. "Sabrina was able to help. The dress will be delivered shortly. I need only get ready. Please, Marcus," she added when it looked like he would refuse. "I understand about this evening and how important it is. I'll be ready."

Marcus considered his wife. She was watching him expectantly and appeared sincere. "Very well, I will meet you downstairs at ten."

Joan nodded and watched as Marcus returned to his study. 

Joan spent the next several hours preparing for the night's entertainment. She took her time in the bath, careful to wash every inch & calling for Shelly to wash the long locks of her hair. Afterwards, she sat still as her hair was brushed dry, curled and piled on top of her head. 

Sabrina had thought far enough ahead and offered the loan of a beautiful set of sapphires that matched Joan's dress perfectly. Ear-bobs, hairpins and a choker completed the outfit and added a element of sophistication that was new to Joan.

"You look lovely, my lady," Shelly said, picking up discarded underclothes, makeup pots & curling tongs.

"Thank you," Joan said and took one last look at herself in the mirror. Everything needed to be perfect. Tonight was her first night among the ton as Lady Edington. More importantly, it was her first night as Marcus' wife. She would be weighed and judged, her ability as nobility decided. After tonight, there would be little she could do to change the opinions of the ton. 

Marcus stood waiting, drink in hand, as his wife appeared at the top of the stairs. For a moment he was completely sober, the sight of her instantly clearing his head. She was beautiful, a beacon of light in a world gone gray. He'd come to treasure their nights together, to depend on them - on her - to get him through the day. Each day was a journey towards her, more and more he told himself that if he made it through the day she'd be waiting for him. The thought of her, warm and welcoming, was enough to drive back the darkness. 

Emptying his glass, Marcus turned to check himself in the mirror and saw what everyone else would see - a handsome man, everything the height of fashion even if his hair was a little long and his eyes a overly bright with drink. Nothing to indicate the darkness that ate him - nothing to remind them of his father.

"Marcus?"

Straightening an already perfect cravat, Marcus knew that the battle was lost. Tonight he would see his wife through her introduction into society. After that he would surrender to the ghosts - giving them their due.

"Marcus?" Joan had reached the bottom of the stairs and looked questioning at his reflection. "Are you alright?"

Turning, Marcus gave his wife what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. You look beautiful."

Pleased, Joan smiled. "You like the dress?"

Marcus took her hands and spread her arms wide. "The dress is but the wrapping. You, my darling, are beautiful. The color suits you, as does the cut." Turning, Marcus waited while the footman opened the door and led the way to the waiting coach. "I have been remiss in my duties as husband. I opened account for you with Madam Lisette with orders to provide you with an entirely new wardrobe. There is also a household account for you to charge whatever else you should need independent of the household expenses."

Joan considered her husband as he handed her up into the carriage, the smile on his face never quite reaching his eyes. The scent of alcohol had grown heavier over the past few days - the stale remnants lingering about Marcus as they made love an often accompanying him to the breakfast table, which he frequented less and less often.

She had hoped to grow closer to Marcus, first through their love making and eventually through simple days and nights spent together. Instead his love making had grown more desperate, him coming to her later and later while leaving sooner - often before she was even asleep. 

Settling her skirts, Joan watched Marcus as the carriage pulled away from the front of their townhouse. "Have you attended the Huntington's ball before."

"Hmmm," Marcus answered noncommittally, staring out the window.

"Marcus?" Joan prodded.

"Yes?" Marcus turned to his wife.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Joan asked. "Perhaps we should return home, save this for another night." 

Noting the concern on his wife's face, Marcus sought to reassure. With no small amount of effort, he forced himself to give her his full attention, pushing everything else out. "I wouldn't think of it. I'm fine," he said and flashed his best smile. "Besides, there is no saving this for another night. The Huntington's ball is the perfect venue for making our marital debut."

"Of course," Joan agreed.

Marcus settled back in his seat, his attention fixed on his wife as she chatted nervously. He understood her apprehension but didn't share in it. There was no one that could compare to Joan on tonight's guest list. She would be a rare flower in a garden of poison ivy. Her position would be secured after tonight's event. She would be free to move around in society - with or without him - and he would be free to face his demons.

Marcus nearly snorted out loud at his own thoughts. Face his demons. Right. He wouldn't be facing them so much as trying (unsuccessfully) to drown them. Tonight, he told himself, after the ball he would retire to his study and let them come.

"My lord?"

Marcus was drawn from his thoughts by the footman waiting to assist them from the carriage. Quickly alighting from the carriage he turned and offered his wife his hand. "Shall we?"

Joan hesitated for the barest of moments before slipping her fingers into Marcus' waiting hand. "Of course."

"Don't worry," Marcus said and lead her towards the Huntington's townhome. "Everything will be fine." 

He didn't believe it either...

To be continued...



English Rose Ch. 08



"Marcus? Marcus, open the door," Joan demanded, her voice tinged with fear and anger. Pressing her palms against the door she pleaded once more, "Marcus, please."

"My lady," Dillon urged gently, "come away."

Resigned, Joan allowed herself to be led down the hall and into her small sitting room. She sat numb, immobile, as servants surrounded her. They worked quietly lighting the fire, serving her tea and eventually even a sip of brandy. Everything went untouched.

Four days. 

Four days since the Huntington's ball. Four days since Marcus slipped from the bed and into his study, shutting her out of his life.

Four days ago

"Nervous?"

Joan turned from the carriage window and looked to where Marcus sat sprawled on the seat beside her. "A little," she admitted.

Marcus gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "You'll do great, of that I have no doubt." Reaching into his coat, he withdrew a flask and took a fortifying drink. Turning back to the window, his wife pointedly ignored his indulgence.

"I fear I'll do something to embarrass you," Joan said quietly. A heartbeat passed as she waited for Marcus to say something, the butterflies in her stomach taking flight. 

Marcus considered his wife, the light from the carriage lantern highlighting the long line of her neck where it met the curve of her shoulder. He knew the flavor of the skin just there, knew that it tasted different than bend of her elbow, the underside of her breast or the back of her knee. He ached to touch her, to press his lips to her skin and inhale the scent of her. Unfortunately, he knew that once embarking on that particular path he would be unable to stop until he was buried to the base of his shaft and there was no time for such detours - no matter how pleasant.

"Marcus?" Joan was aware of the sudden silence and her husband's heated gaze. She had come to know that look and felt her body throb in response.

"You could never embarrass me," he assured her. "Besides, I don't give one whit what anyone there thinks." 

Marcus tipped back his flask, surprised at finding it already empty. Going to have to do something about that. The Huntington's townhouse was in the most fashionable area of London and invitations to the ball the most sought after of the season. It would take some time for them to reach their destination. With nothing else to do, Marcus sat back and allowed himself the pleasure of watching his wife.

A short time later Joan allowed Marcus to hand her down from the carriage and caught her first glimpse of the Huntington residence. The house itself was massive, dwarfing its neighbors on either side in both size and structure. Inside, guests moved about the ballroom, the sounds of music and conversation carried through the open windows out into the night. Outside, liveried footman hurried to help guests and direct carriages. Marcus gave Joan a moment to look her fill before tucking her hand under his arm and escorting her inside. "In case I forgot to tell you, you look splendid this evening, the dress and the jewels suit you."

Joan smiled, her face flushing slightly with pleasure. "You may have mentioned it already but a lady never tires of such compliments."

Starring down into his wife's upturned face, Marcus felt desire war with the darkness. He knew what he wanted, knew that there were pleasures to be had and even happiness. But there was a pressure building, an unstoppable force was coming for him, threatening to overtake him and run him down in its path. Joan flashed him a smile and for a brief moment Marcus felt the darkness recede. He had promised himself this evening - one night devoted to his wife, to seeing her safely established in society, and one night for him. Only then would he yield to the darkness.

They crossed the foray together, Joan careful to maintain an expression of polite interest. It would not do to appear impressed or worse, intimidated, by the surroundings. Still, she couldn't quite stop the slight catch in her breath as they stepped into the ballroom. 

Already a crush, the ball was in full swing with the ton's most powerful people moving about the room. It wasn't the size of the thing, by ton standards the guest list would be considered small. The devil, as they say, was in the details. 

"Breathe," Marcus cautioned and steered them into the crowd.

Joan looked up at him. "I'm alright; I just needed a moment."

Marcus gave the hand on his arms a discreet squeeze while looking around for a footman. He needed a drink. "Of course, but know that it is the only one you are going to get."

"Darlings!"

Marcus' caught the eye of a passing footman before turning to his wife. "Lady Huntington," he provided, "our host."

Joan watched as Lady Huntington descended upon them, a small entourage following in her wake. 

Wearing a dress of burnished gold, the color instantly bringing to mind the precious metal, Lady Huntington was obviously beyond the school room but with years left to spend in her prime. She moved with a purpose, a smile hinting at her awareness of their growing audience and the knowledge of how to play to it. 

"We are so pleased that you chose our little affair to make your marital debut," Gloria said, pitching her voice just so. "Lord Edington, always a pleasure."

Marcus gave a curt bow, "Lady Huntington."

"Come," Gloria said, hooking her arm with Joan's and drawing the young woman to her side. "I don't believe you've met my husband."

Joan watched as Lady Huntington drew a distinguished looking gentleman to their small group and made the introductions. Lord Huntington was older than his wife by some years, his hair heavily touched with gray. Nevertheless a handsome man, Lord Huntington greeted Joan with a quiet smile and a soft spoken word. 

"I have had a number of requests for introductions," Gloria said as she started moving about the room. "Marcus so rarely graces us with his presence and this time with his new bride - is it any wonder that this is shaping up to be our best ball yet?"

Joan knew the question was rhetorical but it offered her some insight. Sabrina had been right; Lady Huntington had capitalized on their attendance tonight letting it be known and likely trading on it for favors.

Joan spent the next hour circling the ballroom on Lady Huntington's arm, Marcus trailing behind them drink in hand. Each introduction had been hand-picked by Lady Huntington; some would benefit Joan and Marcus, some the guest while Lady Huntington would benefit from them all.

"Well," Lady Huntington said as she withdrew her arm and offered Joan her first real smile of the evening. "I must admit that I enjoyed that much more than I anticipated. You are a charming young lady; one could do worse than to spend an hour in your company."

"Thank you, my lady," Joan said, amused by the backwards compliment.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other guests to see to." Not bothering to wait for a response, Lady Huntington smiled at them both and moved off into the crowd.

Joan flipped open her fan, using it to conceal part of her face and let out a deep sigh of relief. "I'm glad that is over."

"You were marvelous," Marcus said, lightly resting his hand on the small of her back and guiding her to the side of the room. "You dazzled them."

Joan gave him a small smile. Marcus had remained quiet throughout their introductions, always within arm's reach but separate from the rest of them. She had tried not to notice the constant flow of champagne or the request for something stronger that had come half way through their tour of the room. Still, he appeared sober and steady on his feet. "It was not much different from any other ball," she said.

"Do not fool yourself or belittle your accomplishment here tonight," Marcus said. "These are not your average members of the ton." While the alcohol had served its purpose - dulling his senses - he was aware of a sense of pride in his wife. He had been proud to stand by her side, to watch her woo and shine without guile. Already there were whispers of the "refreshing" Lady Edington.

Marcus had watched with no small amount of surprise as his young wife had charmed, chatted and dazzled. While Gloria had kept her promise and introduced them to those most likely to look at Joan favorably Marcus had noted one or two guests that she'd thrown in there as an obvious test. Men - and a few women - that had no patience for brainless youth. Joan had been able to recognize the difference and offer up intelligent conversation and opinions.

"Champagne?" Marcus asked.

Joan tore her gaze from the crowded room. The introductions over, she allowed herself the chance to stand back and watch the rest of the guests. As Sabrina had said, on the surface everything looked like your typical ball but underneath there were currents of wealth and power.

"I would love some," she said with a smile.

Marcus looked around; unfortunately all of the footman carried empty trays or circled the other side of the room. It would take several minutes before one reached them. "Wait here while I get us something to drink."

Joan nodded and went back to watching the crowd.

"I hear she's increasing."

"I'm not surprised; you know how virile Edington is!"

Startled, the sound of her husband's name drew Joan's attention to the conversation taking place nearby.

Feminine laughter met her companion's comment. "True, but I think she looks more like Weaverly's type; too young for Edington."

Joan felt her face pale as realization dawned. She fought the urge to reassure herself by pressing her hand to the flat of her stomach. Such a gesture would only be seen as confirming an obviously nasty rumor. 

"Come, now, Anna. As I recall, Lord Edington was rather public in his rejection of your proposal."

Joan looked to her left, surprised to find her savior in the shape of a petite blond.

"Besides," the young woman continued. "From the cut of that dress it's quite clear that Lady Edington is not increasing. Madam Lisette?"

Automatically, Joan nodded. "Sabrina, ah, Lady Radcliff recommended her."

Ellie reached out and took Joan's hands, pulling her close and pressing a friendly kiss to both cheeks. "Sabrina sends her love and her regrets at not being able to attend."

"Of course," Joan said, understanding. This must be Sabrina's childhood friend, Lady Mathews. "How is she?"

"She is well," Ellie said. "She's expecting a full accounting of tonight's events when next you two see each other. Anna. Melody." 

"Lady Mathews," both women said in unison, reluctance marking every line of Anna's body as she was forced to curtsy.

"I see you're still wearing the latest that Bond Street has to offer," Ellie said, her voice holding a distinct note of distain.

Anna sniffed. "Yes, well, I haven't decided if I want to risk switching to a new modiste."

Ellie raised one delicate shoulder. "You needn't bother; Madam Lisette isn't accepting new clients. Well, of course she made an exception for you," she said, turning to Joan with conspiratorial smile. "When is the fitting for the rest of your new wardrobe?"

Joan forced herself to match Lady Mathews' smile with one of her own. "Next week, she has some designs that she promises will be perfect."

"Perhaps you'll allow Sabrina and me to join you?" 

"Of course," Joan agreed. "We should make a day of it." 

Ellie watched in satisfaction as the two women moved off but noticed that they did not go far. Disappointed at having their sport spoiled, they were obviously hoping for another chance.

Joan gave the women her back, concealing her face and turning to Lady Mathews. "Thank you."

Ellie's smile never slipped but anger darkened her deep blue eyes. "Anna is a bitch, Melody not much better for allowing herself to be led around by one such as that." 

"You must be Lady Mathews," Joan said.

"Please, call me Ellie." Ellie's smile noticeably warmed. "I apologize for the overly friendly greeting but it seemed warranted."

"No apology necessary, I appreciate the assistance." Joan frowned, recalling Anna's words. "Is it true? Are there rumors?"

Silently, Ellie cursed Marcus for leaving his bride unaware. "There are bound to be rumors, given the speed with which you married..."

"But where would they have gotten Weaverly's name?" Joan asked. "Unless he's the one spreading such nonsense."

"I'm not sure how the rumors got started or by whom," Ellie hedged.

"Eleanor," Marcus drawled in greeting. "I see Mathews has let your leash slip once again."

Ellie rolled her eyes at Joan before turning to find Marcus standing behind her, two glasses of champagne in hand and a scowl fixed firmly to his face. "I see Joan has her work cut out for her when it comes to teaching you some manners."

"I wouldn't ask her to waste her time; we both know I'm a lost cause." Marcus stepped around Ellie and handed Joan a glass, his eyes narrowing as she took a long sip that nearly emptied the glass. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," Joan said.

"No," Ellie corrected. "It is unwise to leave your wife alone for long; some of the locals are feeling decidedly vicious tonight."

Marcus caught Ellie's pointed gaze.

"Leave it be," Joan said when Marcus took a step in the ladies' direction. "Please, Marcus. You'll only give them something more to speak of."

Marcus stared down into his wife's face, the sudden need to protect her catching him unaware. Slowly, aware of their audience, Marcus lowered his head until his lips brushed the delicate shell of her ear. "Dance with me," he said.

Joan shivered as the husky words feathered across her skin. Innocent as they were whispered here in the ballroom, they held a promise of a more intimate dance to come. "Of course," she said.

Marcus took her glass and handed it along with his to Ellie who smiled at him in approval. Choosing a direction that deliberately crossed Anna's and Melody's path, Marcus pointedly ignored both women - his attention focused solely on his wife as he led her out onto the dance floor. 

Joan caught her breath as Marcus wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her close and slipping them into the dance. She couldn't take her eyes from his face, from the stark sensuality that was this man she had married. His classic good looks had always held an edge but tonight what had been dark had become dangerous. 

Eyes locked, Marcus tightened his hold and took them into a turn, enjoying the press of his wife's breasts against his chest. Something primitive stirred inside of him, the need to protect and claim pushing him to hold her closer than necessary. He felt hungry, predatory and a desire to dominate.

Joan was caught in his eyes. She could feel his arms wrapped around her, steel bands that wouldn't be broke, even if she wanted to try. His body was unyielding, his steps unforgiving, forcing her into an aggressive pace until she felt like she was flying, her feet barely touching the ground.

Marcus couldn't remember the last time he'd danced with someone having eschewed the formal niceties long ago. Feeling his wife surrender to him, he knew that no matter what was to come he would never dance with anyone else ever again. 

"Marcus," Joan whispered.

"Yes?"

"Take me home." She felt fevered, flushed with desire. Despite her heavy skirts, she had discerned the evidence of her husband's arousal, had seen it reflected in his eyes.

Marcus took them into the next turn and spun them out of the dance and into the crowd. He refused to release his grasp, instead pulling her close to his side and propelling them through the crush. A quick word and a handsome tip had their carriage brought around in record time.

"My cloak!" Joan cried.

"Forget it," Marcus said, vaulting himself up onto the seat beside her. "I'll send someone around for it tomorrow."

Any objection she may have had died on her lips as Marcus claimed her mouth, his tongue sweeping inside demanding she meet him in another kind of dance. Breaking free on a gasp, she surrendered as he buried his fists in her hair, pins pinging as they scattered across the floor of the carriage.

Marcus growled as the taste of her exploded on his tongue. Something inside of him snapped driving him to get closer. Dropping to his knees, he pushed up her skirts and pressed between her spread thighs. He didn't slow down, couldn't slow down. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware of the rapid rise and fall of her chest and knew that she raced along with him.

Wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, Marcus pulled her into another searing kiss. At the same time, he reached beneath her skirts and pressed the heel of his hand to her core. "Oh, thank God," he said at finding her wet and feeling her shudder. Near desperate now, he shifted his grip and thrust two fingers deep inside of her.

"Marcus!" Joan flung her head back at the sudden invasion and climaxed.

"Again," Marcus growled, thrusting. This time it was his turn to shudder as his wife's passage clamped down around his fingers, her inner muscles milking him mercilessly. He'd felt those same muscles milking his cock and knew the intense pleasure that awaited him. As if in answer, his cock throbbed and strained. Marcus couldn't stop the instinctive roll of his hips and fought the urge to release himself and sink inside of his wife.

"Marcus, Marcus, please," Joan strained. Hands braced on the bench besides her hips, she pressed her pelvis more firmly into his hand, riding her husband's fingers.

"Tell me what you want," Marcus ordered.

"Please," Joan begged.

"Tell me."

"You, Marcus, I want you."

"You don't want me, you want to cum." Marcus growled, ruthless. "I want to hear you say it."

"I want you," Joan insisted. "I want you to make me cum."

Marcus groaned at the erotic picture she made with her head thrown back, legs spread and breasts heaving. On the next thrust he curled his fingers and pressed hard at the spongy spot that was sure to send her over the edge.

Joan felt her body snap taunt before breaking apart in searing pleasure.

Marcus watched as Joan rode the waves of her release, her body twisting so violently as to nearly dislodge his hand. Sliding his arm around her hips, he anchored her to bench and slowed the thrusts of his fingers until the last of her climax faded.

Joan came back to herself slowly. Her head felt light, barely connected at the neck as she turned to look where Marcus sat still kneeling between her thighs. Silently, she watched as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them of her juices before smoothing down her skirts. "Marcus?" she inquired. His eyes were fever bright with desire.

"Not yet," he insisted. Moments later the carriage rocked to a stop. Marcus didn't bother to wait for a footman, instead dropping to the ground before turning to help his wife down.

"Marcus!" Joan cried in surprise as he swept her up into his arms and carried her into the house. Once across the threshold he didn't bother to stop or issue orders but continued upstairs and hurried down the hall. "Where are we going?" she asked as they passed the door to her rooms.

"I want you in my room tonight," Marcus said. "I would see you spread out across my bed, catch your scent on my sheets."

Joan felt herself warm at his words, the passion she thought spent stirring awake between her thighs.

Marcus shouldered his way into his room, kicking the door closed behind him. The fire was lit, the bed turned down for the night and a bottle of wine on the table. Walking to the end of the bed, he released her legs letting her slide down the length of his body until her feet touched the floor.

Staring down at the top of her head, Marcus was reminded just how petit his wife was, her head barely reaching his chin. He wasn't surprised to see his fingers tremble slightly as he reached out, placed the tip of his finger under her chin and tipped her face back to look at him. Her eyes were bright, staring at him with something he didn't want to examine too closely. 




English Rose Ch. 08



Joan felt her breath catch as his fingers feathered her chin before making their way down the column of her throat. From there Marcus trailed the tips across the heaving expanse of her cleavage before hooking onto the gauzy sleeves of her dress.

He teased them both with the slow slide of her sleeves down her arms. He watched as creamy skin was exposed, the delicate material finally falling past her finger tips to gather around her waist. Her undergarments were sheer, Joan having relinquished the usual corset to save the graceful lines of the dress. He made a mental note to send Madam Lisette a thank you note. 

A gentle tug and the dress slid off her hips and pooled at her feet. Offering her his hand, Marcus helped Joan to step out from the fabric, turning her so that her back was to the fireplace. The warm light blazed, illuminating the voluptuous curves beneath the sheer fabric. "So beautiful," he whispered in worship. 

Joan felt her flesh flush with heat and desire, her breasts felt heavy and her nipples hard beneath her chemise. Marcus backed them up until he sat perched on the end of his massive bed. Spreading his thighs, he grasped her hips, pulling her forward until she stood between his knees.

Marcus considered the bounty before him. Her breasts were full and heavy, tempting him to taste. Slowly, he bent his head and circling one pert nipple with his tongue, drawing it into his mouth and suckling hard.

Joan groaned as sensation pulled at her nipple, rippled down her core and settled in her sex. She could feel herself growing slick, wetness coating her quivering thighs. "Marcus," she moaned.

Marcus' only response was to grip her hips and pull her closer before moving from one breast to the other. He paid homage to her breasts, licking and suckling until she was wild and restless in his arms. It was only when she fisted his hair, tugging none too gently, that he relinquished his hold on her breasts and scooped her up into his arms.

Joan yelped as Marcus tossed her into the center of his bed. Sitting back, she watched as he quickly shed his clothes before crawling up onto the bed beside her. He moved with a fluid grace, something almost feline and definitely predatorily. 

Marcus didn't stop until he was crouched over his wife. Crawling up the length of her, he used his knees to nudge her thighs apart before sitting back on his haunches. "You look edible," he said, his eyes drinking in the sight of her feminine curls. She glistened in the firelight, the heady scent of her arousal drifting up to tickle his nose.

She still wore her chemise, stockings and heels, her state of half undress more erotic than if she were spread out naked before him. Grasping her ankles, he moved her heels until they rested on either side of his hips forcing her knees apart and giving him a better view of her core.

Slowly, he followed the length of her legs, his palms gliding up her calves and over her knees, settling on the insides of her thighs. Pinning her to the bed, Marcus lowered himself until his nose nuzzled her curls. Beneath him, Joan shuddered and moaned, her hips thrusting up to meet his mouth.

He couldn't refuse the offer of such juicy fruit. Sealing his mouth to her flesh, he licked at her lips until her folds parted revealing her hidden pearl. The gem of her desire was swollen, throbbing against his tongue to the beat of her heart. 

Joan fisted the sheets beneath her, her hips rolling and thrusting against Marcus' mouth as he suckled and licked at her. Pleasure built; her body winding higher and higher until she trembled. Arching her neck, Joan reached for that point where she knew pleasure would break and become something else, something more. "Marcus, please."

Marcus shouldered her hips further apart and settled more firmly against her. She was slick, her juices coating his chin and running down the back of his throat. He drank his fill, her pleasure nurturing his soul, until she grew restless beneath him. 

"Marcus," she pleaded, her hand fisting in his hair and pulling him more firmly against her.

Responding to the desperation he heard in her voice, Marcus released her. Planting his hands beside her hips, he launched himself up her body and in one swift move impaled her on his cock.

Joan cried out as her body clamped down, her inner muscles rippling in pleasure. 

Marcus didn't hesitate, didn't pause for her to catch her breath. Quickly, he withdrew before thrusting home once again. There was nothing soft or tender in his love making. He pounded into her flesh, his body plunging forward again and again.

Joan wrapped her legs around Marcus' waist, pulling him deeper into her body. She felt tight, her skin too small for her body, for the pleasure she was experiencing. Opening her eyes, Joan found Marcus watching her. His eyes missed nothing; saw every quiver of pleasure that spiked across her senses. "Marcus, I..."

Marcus cut her off with a searing kiss. He couldn't afford to hear any declarations, didn't deserve them and wouldn't do that to her. 

Melting into the kiss, Joan fisted her hands in Marcus hair. Their bodies locked together, sweat slick and heaving, they moved together. She teetered on the edge, her body winding tighter and tighter, poised for the pinnacle that was just beyond her reach.

Marcus released her mouth and lifted himself onto his hands. Beneath him Joan undulated, her body rolling with his. He held them there, stretched the moment out. For he knew that, while there existed the promise of pleasure beyond belief, it was the end.

Joan reached up and touched his face, tracing the lines of his lips, moaning as he sucked her fingers into his hot mouth. So focused on his mouth was she that she startled in surprise when she felt his fingers parting her folds. Never varying the timing of his thrusts, Marcus searched out her pearl, circling it once before grasping it with his finger tips and squeezing.

Joan shattered, her world fragmenting. Her body clamped down hard, contracted around Marcus enabling her to feel every bump and ridge of his cock.

Marcus felt her inner muscles fisting around him, her swollen heat gripping at his engorged flesh, and felt his own release barreling down on him. His balls tightened as lightening rushed up the length of his shaft and exploded behind his eyes. Head thrown back, he shouted out his wife's name before collapsing on top of her.

It was several minutes before Marcus had enough energy to move. Even then, it was all he could do to roll off his wife, tuck her under his chin and pull a blanket over the both of them. Closing his eyes, he listened quietly as her breathing evened out and eventually fell into the deep rhythm of sleep. 

He allowed himself the luxury of holding his wife as she slept. For a few moments, in the dark behind his closed eyes, all he saw was her. Their love making had touched something inside of him, as it always did, and for those too brief moments he'd felt free.

Opening his eyes, Marcus was surprised to see that the fire had grown dark and the room lighter. The hour had grown late, passing from night into dawn as he slipped from the bed and dressed. Crossing the room, he stopped to build up the fire before grabbing the wine and slipping out into the hall. His last look of his wife was of her sprawled across his bed, her face turned away from the door, sleeping peacefully.

Dillon was finishing his breakfast when one of the maids sought him out below stairs. 

"Begging your pardon, sir," Ginny said.

"Good morning, Ginny. Shouldn't you be upstairs by now?" Dillon rose, straightening his coat and giving his sleeves a tug.

"Yes, sir," she said quietly. "Only I just came across his lordship in the study..."

Dillon immediately understood the implications of the young maid's words. "Skip the study," he said, stepping past her. "Go on about the rest of the house. I will see to his lordship."

"Yes, sir," Ginny said as she hurried back upstairs. 

Dillon moved quickly. The family's servants were familiar with Lord Edington's retreats into his study. However, with a new bride to tend to things were bound to be different...and complicated.

Marcus heard the door open but didn't bother opening his eyes or lifting his head. "Dillon?"

"Is there anything I can get you, my lord?"

"Ah, Dillon," Marcus sighed. "You should know better by now."

"Of course, my lord," Dillon stepped back, preparing to close the door behind him.

"Dillon."

Surprised, Dillon stopped. "Yes, my lord?"

"Take care of my wife."

"Of course, my lord," Dillon said as he closed the door. Waiting until he heard the tale tell click of the lock.

She had been surprised to wake the morning after the ball still in Marcus' bed. Not surprising was finding herself alone, the bed cold and Marcus long gone. Still, riding high on the evening's success, Joan had decided not to dwell on her absent husband but instead dressed for the day with plans to call on Sabrina.

Descending the stairs, Joan noted that the house was quieter, colder, than usual. The servants who had started responding to her presence with morning greetings were noticeably absent. The only one present was Dillon.

"Good morning, Dillon." Joan smiled as she approached her husband's study. "Is his lordship in?"

"Yes, my lady," Dillon said as he stepped in front of the door. "My apologies, my lady, he left word that he was not to be disturbed."

"Oh," Joan said, surprised at the order. In the past few weeks Marcus had seemed to change to a more open policy with respect to his time. The return to the cold, quiet silence of the first few weeks of their marriage was both surprising and painful. "Very well," Joan said, trying to conceal her hurt. Turning, she walked alone to the breakfast room.

Joan had planned to call on Sabrina but was waylaid by the first of many deliveries she was to receive that day. Flowers from Lord and Lady Huntington arrived just as the hour chimed fashionable, a note asking them to dinner in one week's time. After that came more flowers, invitations, requests to ride and even a poorly disguised indecent proposal or two. 

Having spent the better part of the morning sifting through cards, notes and correspondence, Joan was relieved when a subdued Mary brought in the tea tray.

"Thank you, Mary," Joan said. "Is his lordship still in his study?"

"Yes, my lady," Mary said.

Joan frowned. "Very well, I guess I'm on my own for tea today."

"Shall I pour?" Mary asked.

"No, thank you." Absently returning to the pile of papers in her lap, Joan wondered what could be keeping Marcus. It wasn't like him to spend so much time on business. She knew that while most men eschewed business all together, her husband had remarked in passing that there was a certain challenge in seeing just how much he could increase their estates. She suspected that he actually enjoyed business but would never admit to such an unfashionable way of thinking. That evening Joan dined alone and retired early, it was the first night since their marriage that Marcus didn't visited her bed. 

Waking early, Joan found Dillon back at his post with the same orders barring her from entering her husband's study.

"Let me pass," Joan ordered.

"I'm sorry, my lady. Lord Edington was quite clear. He is not to be disturbed, no exceptions." Dillon repeated.

"Surely, his wife..."

"I'm sorry, my lady, his lordship was explicit when issuing his orders," Dillon said. What he didn't add was that, in this, he agreed with his lordship. Her ladyship had no need to see her husband in his current state.

Joan blinked in surprise. "He specifically stated that I was not to be allowed to see him?"

"No one, my lady," Dillon hedged. There was no need to hurt her ladyship with the truth.

"Admit no one," Marcus had ordered, "especially my wife."

"Yes, my lord," Dillon had acknowledged.

"Are you sure he is alright?" Joan hated having to ask but she needed to know.

"Yes, my lady." Dillon strived to reassure her. "This is not the first time his lordship has required a brief period of solitude."

"It's not?" Joan asked. In the months since their marriage she had never known Marcus to close himself off in such a way.

"No, my lady," Dillon said, choosing his words carefully. "His lordship requires a bit of quiet now and then. If I may suggest, give him a day or two before you start to worry."

Joan stared uncertainly at Dillon, nodding in acquiescence only when it became clear that the loyal servant would not be moved. "Very well, I'll give him another day or two but if he's not out by then I will insist on being allowed in to check on him."

Dillon bowed but said nothing. He knew from experience that there was no getting in unless admitted. His lordship had changed the locks long ago and held the only existing key. 

Days had passed while Marcus remained locked in his study. Joan no longer left the house but insisted on remaining close by. Dillon remained ever vigilant outside of his master's door. She had given up ordering and had resorted to begging to be let in, flabbergasted when Dillon admitted to having no way to enter the study -- short of breaking down the door. On this, the sixth day since Marcus had locked himself away, she found herself tempted to do just that.

Joan was at a loss. Emotionally drained, she'd gone from hurt and angry to worried, to downright frantic. Even the servants were showing signs of strain.

Having spent another night alone, Joan rose early to dress. While the servants still refused to say much, she knew that there was one person likely to have answers. Sabrina.

Stepping down from the stairway, Joan nearly ran right into Mary as she hurried by, a bundle of linens in her arms and a smile on her face.

"Good morning, my lady."

"Good morning, Mary," Joan said, looking around she was surprised to see a number of servants moving about. "What is all of this?"

Mary practically beamed. "His lordship ordered all of the rooms opened up."

Joan whipped around only just now registering the fact that the study door was open and Dillon no longer at his post. "His lordship..."

"Yes, my lady," Mary said. Gently, she reached out and lightly touched her mistress' arm. "He asked that you join him as soon as your schedule allowed."

"Thank you, Mary," Joan said. Slowly she approached the study door. After so many days of banishment she suddenly found herself uncertain of her desire to see her husband or of her welcome. Remembering her earlier determination to get answers, Joan squared her shoulders and stepped into the room.

Marcus sat behind his desk studying an assortment of papers. A quick look around showed a tidy room, the air tinged with the scent of cleaning solution and stale spirits. "Marcus."

Marcus' head snapped up at the sound of his name. Spying Joan just inside the door he pushed to his feet and ran a nervous hand through his hair. He'd had a bath as well as a shave, both going a long way towards stripping away the residual markings of the past several days. 

Joan drank in the sight of her husband; his normally bright hair and eyes were dull and he appeared to have lost some weight.

"Good morning," Marcus said, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I trust you are well?"

Joan blinked. It wasn't the greeting she had expected. She had expected an explanation or an apology, perhaps, but what she got was her husband's usual cocky self. His face held the smile to a joke that only he knew. Feeling her anger rise, Joan felt a furious response form on the tip of her tongue, stopping only when she realized that the smile didn't reach his eyes, eyes touched by lines that weren't there a few days ago. "Well enough," she said, swallowing her initial response. "And you?"

"Fine," Marcus said, a wave of his hand dismissing the silence of the past several days. "I realize that I have been neglectful in my duties as husband. The Huntington's ball was to have been the first step in rectifying the matter. I apologize for the delay." 

Joan decided to apply the apology to the past several days, whether intended or not. Stepping further into the room, she considered her husband. Despite his outwardly casual appearance, she noted a tension in the set of his shoulders, a tightening about the eyes and mouth, and knew that he wasn't nearly as apathetic as he appeared. While she didn't understand she could accept - for now - without understanding. "Think nothing of it, sir," Joan offered. "I understand from Mary that you ordered the rest of the house opened."

"I did," Marcus said as he stepped out from behind his desk and, crossing the room, drew his wife into his arms. Lowering his head, he kissed her. He needed to touch her, need to taste her and reassure himself that she was still there.

Joan felt swept up by the kiss, the pain and anger over the past several days draining away under his tender touch. 

Marcus slowly brought the kiss to an end. Raising his head, he searched his wife's face. He could see the strain of the past few days and swore to himself that he would find some way to make it up to her. Actually, he had already taken steps. "I ordered the entire house opened and placed funds in your accounts for additional staff."

Reluctantly, Marcus released his wife allowing her to step out of his arms. He wanted to linger, to reacquaint himself with the feel of her but sensed she wasn't ready. There was a distance, a reserve between them that hadn't been there before. "If you're agreeable to it, I thought perhaps we could walk through the house together and see what changes you might like to make. I realize that you've come to favor the small sitting room but with your success the other night I suspect you'll be receiving additional callers -- ones that you might not want to invite into such a private space."

Joan didn't bother mentioning the number of callers she'd already turned away. In an effort to avoid undoing their success at the Huntington's ball, she had let it be known that she had taken ill. "I'd like that," she said. "Will you be joining me for breakfast?"

"Of course," Marcus said, flashing his smile. "I wouldn't miss it."

They spent a pleasant morning together, awkwardness giving way to the comfortable familiarity they had begun building before Marcus' absence. Walking through the house, Joan was surprised at the change. Doors were open, curtains pulled back and the covers removed from the furniture. The house was beautiful, each room done in tasteful elegance.

"My mother directed most of what you see," Marcus said in response to Joan's observation. "You should feel free to change whatever you like."

"Your mother...?" Joan started.

"Will not mind," Marcus assured her. "She has not been back since she married Lord Billings."

"Oh," Joan said. Looking around there were very few things that she would change. Lady Billings had chosen timeless pieces, their beautiful elegance as fitting today as the day they were purchased and placed. "I wouldn't change much," Joan said, "perhaps just to add a few personal pieces here and there."

Marcus turned towards the back of the house escorting Joan to her sitting room. "As you wish," he said. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have some calls to make."

"You're leaving," Joan said, resignation ringing in her voice. 

Marcus paused midway to the door and turned back to find his wife watching him with wide eyes. "I shall return in time for supper," he promised.

Joan swallowed passed the lump in her throat only to feel it settle in the pit of her stomach. "Of course," she said, forcing a smile she didn't feel. "I'll have Cook prepare your favorite meal."

"No," Marcus said offering her a reassuring smile. "Have her prepare yours."

Marcus let himself out of the house and stepped up into the waiting carriage. Having given his coachman the direction he sat back and took his first deep breath in days. The morning with Joan had gone well. He still had a ways to go in repairing the damage done but he was confident the he would prevail in time. As for him, he didn't want to think too long on the past few days. To do so risked revisiting a nightmare from which he had thought never to escape.




English Rose Ch. 08



"Wait here," Marcus ordered, stepping down from the carriage. "I won't be long."

"Your Grace, Lord Edington asks if you are receiving."

Sabrina looked up from the book she had been reading and frowned. "Of course, please show him in." By Marcus' standard of time, it was too early in the day for social calls. "Is Joan okay?" she asked, rising as Marcus stepped into the room.

Marcus stopped short at the quickly fired question. "Of course, why would you...?"

"It wasn't Joan who was indisposed, was it?" Sabrina asked. Her knowing eyes took in the loose cut of his coat and the dark circles under his eyes. "How bad was it this time?"

"I've suffered worse," he lied. Enduring her examination, Marcus gave her a moment to inspect him, her eyes searching his face.

Sabrina recognized the signs and wondered how much of the past several days Marcus had spent locked in his study. She knew not to ask. Any answer he gave would be dismissive and hold very little information. Her main regret was that Joan had to go through this period alone. Making a mental note, Sabrina decided that next time they spoke she would find a way to let the young woman know that she did not have suffer alone. 

"May I sit?"

"Of course," Sabrina said. "Shall I ring for tea?"

"No, I only have a moment." Marcus said, wondering where to begin. "I realize that I have cost you a lot," he started.

"I'm a grown woman, Marcus," Sabrina said, smiling slightly. "I knew what I was doing."

"Regardless, I am aware that our friendship is a source of discomfort between you and Edington and that I have never shown you my appreciation."

"It goes without saying," Sabrina offered. "Marcus, are you alright?" It was unlike him to be concerned with the emotions of those around him.

Marcus looked away from eyes that saw too much, knew too much. "I would ask a favor of you," he said. "If you never do another thing for me..."

"Marcus..."

"...all I ask is that should something happen to me you will look after my wife."

"Marcus!" Sabrina cried, alarmed.

"I'm fine," Marcus sought to reassure. "You have my word."

"Then what is this all about?" 

"Until recently there was only me to care for, marrying Joan changed all of that." Marcus went through the explanation he had planned in preparation for his conversation with Sabrina. "You'll recall my father died young?"

"A riding accident, wasn't it?"

"Yes, so I know how uncertain life can be," Marcus said. "Joan's parents are older, as is my mother and...well..." here, Marcus paused. "There is no one I would trust more with this. You will know how best to help her, should the need arise."

Sabrina sat stunned and not a little bit concerned. Marcus had never spoken of his father, his family or his childhood in general. It seemed unlike him to make such forward thinking plans. Perhaps marriage was having an effect on him after all.

"Please, Sabrina," Marcus said quietly.

"Of course," Sabrina said. "You should know that you didn't need to ask. I've come to care for Joan a great deal."

"I know the feeling is mutual," Marcus offered. "Thank you," he said, rising to go.

"Speaking of," she said, stopping him. "How is Joan?"

"She's well," Marcus said his tone a polite warning not to press.

"What are your plans for this evening?"

"A quiet one at home with my wife," he said. "She certainly deserves it."

Sabrina nibbled her bottom lip.

"I know that look," Marcus said, sighing in feigned exasperation. "What is it?"

"There have been no public appearances since the Huntington's ball," she said gently. 

"Not tonight," Marcus said curtly. Tonight was for Joan.

"People will start to wonder, to talk," Sabrina pushed.

"No," Marcus snapped. "Tomorrow," he said, gentling his tone. "I promise to make a very public appearance with my wife."

Recognizing a subject closed and willing to let the matter drop, Sabrina nodded. Accepting the affectionate kiss Marcus pressed to her cheek, she watched as he strolled from the room. Despite his assurances, she couldn't help but worry.

Returning home, Marcus bound up the stairs and hurried down the hall. Quickly, he dressed for supper, excusing his man before letting himself into his wife's rooms.

"Marcus!" Joan cried in surprise.

Marcus smiled. Leaning against the doorframe, he realized that he could not have timed his entrance any better had he tried. 

Joan sat at her vanity still in her dressing gown. Her hair was piled on top of her head exposing the slender column of her neck. Fresh from the bath, her skin was flushed pink with heat and appeared downy soft. Giving into desire, Marcus stalked across the room; his eyes locked with his wife's in the mirror he dropped a kiss on the curve of one shoulder. The contact dislodged the collar of her gown, which slid off her shoulder to the bend in her elbow revealing the tops of her breasts.

"You're early," Joan said. Eyeing him in the mirror, she tried to gauge his mood. He appeared refreshed, the fatigue of the past few days gone, replaced with a mischievous playfulness she had never seen in him before.

"My apologies," he said, his fingers resting lightly on her shoulders. "I thought we could go down together."

"I'm not dressed yet."

"Perhaps we should have something brought up," Marcus suggested and found that he liked the idea of dining together in the intimate rooms of her suite.

Catching the look and the intent in her husband's eyes, Joan rose and gave the bell pull a tug. They waited in silence for Shelly to arrive, Joan issuing quietly spoken orders before closing the door behind her maid. 

"It will take some time," she said. "Would you like a drink while we wait?"

Marcus watched as she crossed the room to a small campaign. "Wine," he said when she reached for the brandy. "I've had enough of that to last quite a while."

Joan nodded and poured them each a glass. Together, they moved to the small sitting area in front of the fire. The logs were lit, Joan having bathed before it earlier, and the room pleasantly warm.

Joan watched as Marcus settled in. He appeared relaxed, comfortable here in her rooms. It was the first time in their marriage that she sensed a measure of peace in him. 

A knock on the door announced the arrival of their supper, a small contingent of servants moving quickly to get them set up before discreetly slipping out of the room. 

"Shall we?" he said, standing and offering Joan a hand.

Joan slipped her fingers into her husband's hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. "Oh," she exclaimed, Marcus having held his ground and pulling her up against his chest. Slowly, she watched as he lowered his head, closing her eyes a moment before he captured her mouth in a kiss.

His lips were warm and soft, nibbling gently at the corner of her mouth before licking along the seam. Joan let him explore, let him set the pace. The kiss was tender, never crossing the line into true passion, and ended on a sigh.

"Come," Marcus said, leading her away from the table. Easily, he lifted her up and deposited her onto the center of the bed.

"What?" Joan started.

"Just wait," Marcus said. "Get comfortable."

Joan scooted back until she could recline against the mountain of pillows, watching as Marcus crossed the room and lifted the cover from their meal. Quickly, he selected choice bits of meats, cheese, fruits and bread and brought them back to the bed.

Reclining beside his wife, the plate of food between them, Marcus picked up a tender bit of beef and offered it up to her.

Joan eyed the offered bit of food and behind it the watchful eyes of her husband. She knew that this was a peace offering, a silent apology and a request to let him care for her. 

Fascinated, Marcus watched as Joan bent forward and slid the tips of his fingers into her mouth. He could feel her stroking him with her tongue, curling it around the morsel of food before slowly releasing him. 

Marcus couldn't stop the groan, or the steady stiffening of his cock, as his wife sucked, nibbled and laved the food from his fingers. In between, she licked at her lips and occasionally offered him a taste, feeding him from her own hand. 

His undoing came at the hands of a strawberry. That simple bit of fruit released its juices just as Joan slipped it into her mouth. Impulsively, Marcus leaned across the bed and licked a single drop of juice just before it slipped off her bottom lip. The taste of the fruit combined with the taste of his wife exploded on his tongue. 

Unable to stop himself, Marcus captured his wife's mouth in a fiery kiss. Pushing the plate off the side of the bed, uncaring when it shattered, Marcus rolled on top of his wife, pinning her to the bed.

Joan met his kiss, instinctively spreading her thighs and feeling him settle between them. He was hard, his arousal pressing up against her core. She could have sworn that he throbbed in time with her pearl, that tender bit of flesh swelling in response. 

Marcus kissed her, his mouth urgently moving from her lips to nip at the sharp edge of her jaw. Joan tipped her head back, giving him better access and offering up the long line of her neck. Marcus took the invitation and blazed a trail of passionate kisses down to the swell of her breasts. Only then did he stop. Untying the sash of her dressing gown, Marcus slowly spread the silken material revealing her beautiful breasts.

He had thought to undress them both but was momentarily distracted by the sight of her. Gently, he reached out and cupped her, feeling her breast swell and watching as the nipple grew taunt. Lowering his head, he drew her into his mouth and suckled, working her flesh with teeth and tongue until she was restless beneath him.

"Marcus, please," Joan groaned. Her body was aflame, the junction between her thighs throbbing and desperate.

Reluctantly, Marcus released his wife's nipple and sat back on his haunches. She lay spread out before him, a feast to his senses. He drank in the sight of her; hair tousled and bare breasts while a hint of her arousal perfumed the air. 

"Marcus," Joan whispered.

Responding to the desperation in his wife's voice, Marcus tore off his jacket and quickly shed the rest of his clothes. Covering her with his body, he groaned at the feel of her pressed beneath him, their skin touching from top to toe. Closing his eyes, Marcus gave himself over to the sensation before shifting his position and thrusting into her body.

Joan arched her back, her body rising off the bed as she lifted her hips up to meet him. She was wet, beyond ready, and yet she still felt her body stretch to accommodate him.

Bracing himself on his elbows, Marcus watched his wife's face as he started to move within her. Her eyes were bright; her lips, swollen from his kisses, parted on a sigh of pleasure. The rise and fall of her chest pressed her breasts against him, the turgid peaks of her nipples tickling his chest.

They moved together, their bodies falling into that age-old rhythm of thrusting together before sliding apart. Running his palm down the outside of her leg, Marcus lifted her leg and rested her knee on his hip. 

Joan felt her body shift and open, Marcus settling deeper between her legs, and surrendered to him. It didn't take long, just a few more slow sliding thrusts, and her body started to tighten. "Marcus, come with me," she begged.

"I have..." Marcus panted, "every intention of doing just that. Wrap your legs around me," he ordered, groaning when she did so without hesitation. Bracing his hands on either side of her head, Marcus thrust and rolled his hips, feeling every swollen inch of her passage clutching at his cock. Her hands, which had been holding onto his forearms, slid around to his back before reaching down and grasping his buttocks. Hungrily, she pulled him harder, deeper against her.

Marcus felt the first shivers of her climax and knew she was there. Reaching down between their bodies, he slid the tips of his fingers into her curls, finding her pearl and giving it a firm squeeze.

"Marcus!" Joan shouted, her body slipping over the edge and into a climax.

Marcus felt her gripping at him and thrust forward one last time. Her inner muscles contracted around him, fisting his cock and demanding he join her. He never thought to resist and with a shout of pure, masculine satisfaction followed her in release. Joan felt Marcus emptying himself at the opening of her womb, the heat of his seed searing her and setting off another wave of pleasure. 

Feeling Joan shudder and still beneath him, Marcus switch to slow, shallow thrusts until the last of the tremors passed. Gently, he withdrew from his wife's body to lay beside her. Exhausted, they tumbled into sleep.

It was late, the candles having burned down, when Joan woke to find Marcus slowly sliding his way into her body. They made love again by the soft light of the dying fire. This time was all about the slow slide of skin, the gentle taste of tongues and the soft sighs of pleasure.

****

Joan opened her eyes slowly, trying to understand what had woken her. A soft snore from the bed beside her brought her head around. "Marcus," she whispered. Surprised at finding him still in her bed, Joan watched him sleep. His face appeared almost youthful in sleep despite the dark blond shadow of his morning beard. Giving in to temptation, she reached out and ran her finger tip along the line of his jaw, the hair softer than she expected.

"Good morning."

"Oh!" Joan exclaimed, snatching her hand back. "You're awake."

"Indeed," Marcus said, rolling onto his back to stretch, "and hungry."

"Shall I have something brought up?" Joan asked.

Marcus practically purred as he turned onto his side and nuzzled his wife's neck. "Or I could just break my fast here," he said, sliding his hand between her legs and cupping her gently.

Joan arched into his touch. Her muscles felt spent, languid from their night of love making but it didn't stop her shiver of pleasure.

Still slick from their combined juices, Marcus' fingers easily slipped inside, curling to stroke that particular spongy spot. "Oh, yes," he encouraged as fresh juices flooded from her passage. "That's it," he cooed, "come for me."

Joan didn't have a choice, her body responding to his touch and obeying his command. Fisting the sheets, she cried out as her body shuddered through gentle waves of pleasure.

Sometime later, Joan opened her eyes to find her husband smiling down at her. "Now that," he said, "is a good morning."

Joan couldn't help it, she laughed. Something inside of her broke open and joy burst forth. She knew it was dangerous, knew that whatever was wrong with Marcus had not gone away. But in that moment, she didn't care. 

Marcus smiled before slipping out of bed.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To get dressed," Marcus said, crossing the room and flashing his wife a superb set of buttocks. "We have plans."

"We do?"

"While I was out yesterday I took the liberty of stopping in at Madam Lisette's. She mentioned you had to cancel your fitting so I reschedule for today." Marcus stopped, searching for his coat. Spying it tossed carelessly across the room, he fetched it and begun digging around in the pockets.

"Lose something?" Joan asked.

"No," Marcus said with a smile, withdrawing a velvet box. "I meant to give you this last night."

Joan looked up from the bed in surprise as Marcus placed the box in the palm of her hand, the jeweler's mark clear and distinct.

"Open it." Marcus noted that her hands trembled slightly as she lifted the lid and heard the quick catch in her breath.

"Oh, my," Joan said lifting the necklace from the silk lining. The silver chain was long, trailing from the tips of her fingers down to the bend in her arm. But that wasn't what caught her eyes. The pendant was easily as big as a man's thumb and flawless. "Oh!" she exclaimed as the diamond caught the morning light, casting color across the room. "Marcus, it's beautiful."

"Do you like it," he asked, a bit uncertain. The diamond was simply set in silver and would be considered plain by many women. There had certainly been more elaborate pieces to pick from but something about this one had called to him. Standing in the shop, Marcus could picture it on Joan, each enhancing the beauty of the other instead of distracting from it.

"It's beautiful," Joan said in awe.

"Here," Marcus said. Taking the chain from her, he slipped it over her head. The pendant immediately nestled in the dip of her cleavage drawing the eye to the swell of her breasts.

Joan looked down and fingered the pendant. "I love it," she said. Rising up onto her knees, the bed sheet wrapped around her, Joan cupped his face and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Thank you."

Marcus eyed his wife; tangled in the sheets and tousled from their night of love making she was the epitome of feminine dishevelment. "I'll expect a proper thank you later," he said.

Joan didn't miss the heat in her husband's eye. Still standing stark naked as he was she was hard pressed to miss the growing sign of his arousal. Giving into temptation, Joan reached out to touch him.

Marcus jerked his hips back out of her reach. "Oh, no you don't," he said. "We have places to go, people to see. Besides, I won't have you rush me."

Joan found she enjoyed his mischievous side. Hoping to see more of it, Joan crawled closer to the side of the bed and once again reached for her husband. This time she made sure to let the bed sheet slip until it caught on the tips of her breasts to hang precarious from her nipples.

Distracted by the tempting glimpse of flesh, Marcus realized his wife's intentions too late. "Joan..." he growled as her fingers wrapped around his cock. Joan flashed him a sassy smile, her fingers dancing down the length of his shaft. "Be careful before I toss you on your back and fuck you like the wench you are."

Joan's breath caught at the rough words, desire flushing her skin a pretty pink. "Promises, promises."

Marcus ground his teeth and forced himself to take a step back. Joan was forced to relinquish her hold or risk tumbling from the bed. Her words had brought to mind another promise made and the reason for it. As much as he'd like to take another tumble with his wife she would be better served seen in his company in town. 

Quickly, he gave her a hard kiss before stepping out of her reach. "Later," he said. "Now, get dressed."

"Where are you going?" 

"To do the same," Marcus stepped into his room and started closing the door behind him. "I'm going with you."

Stunned, Joan sat motionless staring at the closed door. Marcus was coming with her? To a fitting? It wasn't really done. In fact, most men would rather cut off vital parts of their body before sitting through a fitting. So, why?

Unable to answer that question, Joan did the only thing she could do. She got dressed.

The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of activity. True to his promise, Marcus escorted Joan to Madam Lisette's, going so far as to offer a few words of advice on both the cut and color of her wardrobe.

"I'm surprised, my lord," Madam Lisette said. Having been recommended by the Duchess of Spiegel, Lisette had made a point of seeing to Lord and Lady Edington personally. 

"It should come as no surprise," Marcus said. "I know what I like to see on my wife's body."

Joan flushed as she slipped back into her own dress.

After Madam Lisette's there was a trip to the milliner, another for gloves and finally the cobbler. That evening they accepted an invitation to dine at the Hallowells' before attending the Brighton's ball.

Each day brought new adventures, the nights new entertainments. Marcus wined and dined her, going so far as to accept an invitation from her parents for a private, family supper. They saw plays, musicals and symphonies; visited the Royal Menagerie, the zoo and Vauxhall Gardens. If there was an attraction in London they attended. Some outings were more successful than others but Joan didn't care. Wrapped up in the days - and nights - with Marcus she found that she didn't much care what they did as long as they were together.




English Rose Ch. 08



Joan was surprised to wake and find that the morning had already grown late. Still tired, she slid out of bed only just catching herself when the room suddenly started to spin. "Oh my," she said. Grabbing the bed post, she caught herself and held on. The spinning eventually stopped but only to give way to a strong wave of nausea. 

"My lady," Shelly entered the room in response to her mistress' ring. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Joan assured her. "I must have a touch of something."

Shelly eyed her mistress critically. "Begging your pardon, my lady, but when was your last course?"

Joan opened her mouth to respond only to snap it shut. Sinking to the bed, she counted back...three, four, five..."Six weeks ago," she said.

Shelly waited, watching as her mistress made sense of it. From the stunned look on her face it was hard to tell whether her ladyship considered the possibility good news or bad. "My lady?"

Joan's face broke out in smile as her hand came to rest on the still flat of her stomach. "Not a word, Shelly," she ordered. "I would have his lordship be the first to hear of this."

"Of course, my lady," Shelly beamed, unable to contain her excitement. "When will you tell him?"

"Tonight," she said. "We are expected at the Mathews dinner party but I'll send around our regrets." The Edingtons had become quite the fixture at the Mathews' townhouse and often arranged to attend the same evening entertainments. Sabrina and Lord Radcliff, recently out of deep mourning, were often on hand as well though Marcus was careful to maintain a respectful distance. 

"Wait!" Joan called as Shelly dashed off to order a footman. "Perhaps I should wait," she said suddenly uncertain. "I mean, I don't know for sure. I would hate..."

"Perhaps we should send for the doctor," Shelly suggested. "His lordship left word that he would be out most of the morning and afternoon."

"An excellent idea," Joan said. "Send a note when you send our regrets to Lady Mathews. If anyone should ask, I have a headache."

Shelly nodded and slipped from the room.

Joan crossed to the mirror above her dressing table and gave herself a closer look. Other than the ridiculous smile, nothing seemed different.

Marcus arrived home early, his meeting with his man of business having gone better than expected and leaving him free for the afternoon. He was feeling restless, itchy after spending so many days and nights among the ton, and had decided an afternoon in one of his clubs would be just the thing. First, he needed to change.

"Ah, Lord Edington."

Surprised, Marcus looked up just in time to catch Dr. Carter descending the stairs outside of his townhouse. "Good afternoon," Marcus said. "Is everything alright?"

Dr. Carter smiled. "Fine, fine. I was just in to see your wife."

"Joan?" Marcus asked, suddenly alarmed. "Is she okay?"

"I believe she wanted to speak with you herself..." Dr. Carter broke off as Lord Edington brushed past him and hurried inside.

"Joan! Joan!"

"My lord, we weren't expecting you..." Dillon started.

"Where is my wife?" Marcus asked. He had never known Joan to require a doctor. She had seemed fine when he left her that morning. Only, now that he thought about it, he realized that she had been more tired lately, falling into bed exhausted and sleeping late into the morning.

"Her ladyship is in her sitting room taking tea," Dillon provided.

Joan sat staring out the window at nothing, a small smile playing with the lines of her lips when the door to her study burst open and her husband hurried in. "Marcus!"

"Are you alright?" he demanded.

"What are you doing home?"

Marcus waved her question away. "It doesn't matter. I encountered Dr. Carter, are you alright?"

"Bloody hell," she cursed quietly. "I'm fine."

Marcus knelt beside his wife and took her hand. "Then why call for the doctor?"

Joan sighed. Obviously worried, there was no way she could wait until tonight to surprise Marcus. "I had thought to tell you tonight..."

"Tell me what?"

Joan stared down into the face of her husband. "I'm pregnant."

Stunned silence met her announcement. Several seconds passed and still Marcus didn't say anything. "Marcus?"

"Are you sure?" Marcus asked, his voice void of all emotion.

Joan felt the first stirrings of something wrong. "It's still early yet, Dr. Carter wasn't able to confirm with absolute certainty but he suspects as I do. Marcus, are you alright?" Joan reached out and tried to take his hand, surprised when he stood up and stepped out of reach, nearly overturning a table in his haste.

"No." Marcus felt like he was suffocating.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Joan asked.

"No, this isn't happening."

"It most certainly is," Joan said with a touch of laughter. She had thought to surprise her husband - it seems she had surprised him more than intended. "We've been married almost a year. I'm actually a bit surprised it hasn't happened sooner."

"You want this?" Marcus asked, disbelief warring with panic for the dominant spot in his brain.

"Of course," Joan said. "Don't you?"

"No," Marcus said and started backing out of the room. "This is not happening," he ordered. "Not now, not ever."

Horrified, all humor gone, Joan watched as her husband turned and fled the room. She had no idea what had just happened. She never expected that Marcus would be anything less than thrilled at the idea of becoming a father. 

****

"Your Grace," Martin said, "Lady Edington asks if you are receiving."

"Of course," Sabrina said, "show her in."

"He's gone," Joan said without preamble as she hurried into the room. 

"Martin, see that we are not disturbed." Sabrina waited for the door to close. "Who is gone?"

"Marcus," Joan said, her voice quivering. "He left three days ago and hasn't been back since."

Sabrina frowned. It wasn't like Marcus to simply disappear. Wallow in a haze of liquored stupor, perhaps, but not disappear. "Did he say where he was going? Perhaps there was an emergency..."

Joan shook her head. "No, I...that is we...he just left and I don't think he's coming back," she said and burst into tears.

Quickly, Sabrina crossed the room and guided the young woman to a place beside her on the sofa. "I'm sure everything will be alright. Marcus would never leave you."

"You didn't see him when he left." Joan could still see the emptiness of her husband's eyes. 

"Did you argue?" Sabrina asked gently.

"No," Joan sniffed. "I thought he would be thrilled, I had it all arranged but then he came home early."

Sabrina frowned. "What was all arranged?"

Joan brushed at the tears. "I'm pregnant," she whispered. "I was going to surprise him with the news but he ran into Dr. Carter on his way out."

"That's wonderful!"

"No, it's not," Joan said, her tears flowing faster. "Marcus doesn't want a child and he doesn't want me."

Sabrina pulled the young woman into her arms, rocking her gently as she sobbed. "Shhhh," she cooed. "Everything will be alright." Looking up she found Douglas standing in the doorway.

"I will find him," he said grimly. "I'll find him and bring him back."

Sabrina nodded. "Until then, I think it best if she stays here."

"Of course," Douglas agreed.

"No!" Joan said. "I don't want to impose. I just needed to talk to someone, to tell them...I...I just can't go through this alone -- not again."

"Edington has left before?" Douglas asked.

"No, not exactly," Joan hedged.

"Marcus has...moods," Sabrina said.

"You know of them?" Joan asked.

"Yes," Sabrina admitted. "I know of them but not as to their cause."

"Have there been very many of them?" Douglas asked gently.

"Just the one," Joan said. "I should go." She stood, suddenly embarrassed at having come.

"Joan," Sabrina said softly and pulled her back down beside her. "You will stay here until Marcus returns or for however long you wish."

"I don't..."

"You are not an imposition," Sabrina insisted. Choosing her next words carefully, she said, "I saw Marcus not long after his last...not long ago," she started. "I had thought to speak with you, to let you know that you are always welcome here, especially when Marcus is indisposed."

"Thank you," Joan whispered. "As much as I hate to admit it, I would much rather be here than at home alone."

Douglas laughed quietly. "A resounding endorsement if I ever heard one."

"Oh!" Joan exclaimed. "I apologize...I meant no offense..."
 "Leave her be, Douglas," Sabrina scolded. "Pay him no mind, Joan, he's teasing. Come, pen a note to your maid and have her send over some things while I call for tea."

Douglas shared a look with his wife before quietly slipping from the room. He was not entirely unfamiliar with Edington's likely destination having spent time there in his youth. Still, it had been some time since he last frequented the hells in London. It would take time to search them all and track down his lordship. He had better get started.

****

Marcus drained his glass and signaled the barkeep. "Leave the bottle."

The barkeep nodded before heading back behind the bar, giving the man a wide berth. He wasn't the only one. The golden lord had strolled in several hours early, played some hard hands of cards before settling into a dark corner to drink. It was clear that he was here for a reason and it wasn't to be social. 

Marcus sighed as another of the bar's whores sidled up to his table. "Not interested," he growled.

"Come now, love, there's no need to be drinking alone," Mary drawled. There was no doubt in her mind that this right here was the richest man to walk into her life. A tumble with him would bring her enough coin to keep her off her feet and her back for weeks. "Why don't you pour ol' Mary a glass of whatever you've got there," she said, trailing her fingers along the fine arm of his coat. "Hey!" she cried, the sudden grip on her wrists more surprising than painful.

"Get. Lost." Marcus said, barely controlled fury adding weight to his words.

Mary hurried to the other side of the room, the space between her shoulder blades itching as he watched her flee. 

Hours later Marcus sat staring into a glass that never stayed empty. The barkeep had long ago learned to keep the bottles coming and the whores away. He had a room upstairs but found himself reluctant to retire for the evening.

"My lord?"

Marcus sighed. Preparing to run off yet another whore, he looked up, his eyes passing over a narrow waist, pert tits and a pixie like face. Through his drunken haze, he was just able to make out blond hair floating around a petit face. "Joan..." he whispered. 

"Care to share a drink with a working girl?" she asked.

Not Joan. Just another whore.

Marcus blinked and brought the whore into focus. Petit and blond but that was where the similarities to his wife ended. Where Joan was smoothed skinned and fresh this woman had a hardness about the eyes, her facing showing the years that working on her back had added to her age.

"You look like you could use some company," the whore tried again. Louie and already warned the girls away but the promise of coin was too tempting, the girls having decided that it was worth the risk. 

Marcus stared at her long and hard, surprised when she neither fidgeted nor ran off. "Not here," he said. Grabbing the bottle, he took the girl by the arm and led her up to his room.

**** Douglas was careful to watch his step as he climbed the dark stairs. The hall was narrow, the floor uneven and rotten in places. The scent of piss and the sour smell of wine gone bad perfumed the air. He had spent the night steadily working his way through the hardest hells in London. Edington's name had come up frequently along with whispers of his return to his wicked ways. No one seemed surprised.

His last stop was The Wild Pony - a cheap brothel with low stakes gaming. The place was rundown, not much more than a shack with a broken sign above the door. No one from the ton came here, not even the demimonde would stoop to stepping through the front door. 

Reaching the top of the stairs, Douglas stepped over something he didn't want to look too closely at and stopped to listen. All was quiet, the tenants of the establishment having only just retired for the day. The barkeep had been annoyed at the early disruption but directed Douglas to the last room on the right. Not bothering to knock, Douglas shouldered open the door and let himself in.

Marcus looked up from his place on the floor. "Ah, Lord Radcliff, imagine meeting you here."

"Edington," Douglas said stepping into the dingy room and closing the door behind him. "Get up; it's time to go home."

Marcus took a long drink from the bottle in his lap. "No."

Douglas' eyes narrowed. "Either get up of your own free will or I will..." he stopped as sudden movement drew his attention to the rumpled sheets of the bed. 

"Get out," he ordered. Looking around he located the discarded clothes he'd missed upon his arrival. Gathering everything, he tossed it at the bed. "Don't bother getting dressed," he ordered, "just get out."

Silently, Marcus watched as the blond from last night gathered her things before slipping out.

"I promised your wife and mine that I would bring you home," Douglas said. "But perhaps it is best if, as far as everyone else is concerned, I never found you."

"It most certainly is," Marcus agreed.

Douglas' jaw clenched and his hands curled into fists with the overwhelming urge to beat some sense into the man. "You're a disgrace," he lashed out. "What pitiful poor excuse for a man abandons his wife and unborn child? You want to wallow in filth and self-pity, so be it. Rest assured that your wife and child will be well taken care of. As for you, I'd rather see you rot in hell before I take you back to Joan."

Marcus watched as Douglas started for the door. "Thank you," he muttered quietly. As much as he didn't get along with Radcliff, he knew the man to be true to his word. The Duke and Duchess of Spiegel would see that Joan and the babe were taken care of. 

Douglas stopped short, hand on the door. Looking back over his shoulder he found Edington watching him with something that looked suspiciously like regret and gratitude. "I don't understand you. You obviously care for your wife and what happens to her. So why not care for her yourself?"

"It's not that simple," Marcus said taking another drink.

"It never is," Douglas offered thinking back to his past with Sabrina. "Get up, man and go home."

"I can't. You were right, they are all better off without me."

"I have no idea what this is all about," Douglas said, quickly losing patience once again. "Honestly, I wouldn't really care if you stayed here and drank yourself into a well deserved early grave. Unfortunately, my wife and yours - two women I care a great deal about - seem to think that there is something in you worth saving. So, stop feeling sorry for yourself, pull your head out of your arse and get up."

"Do I honestly look like the kind of man to be a husband and father?"

"No, but you are all they have," Douglas answered. "Your child may not be born a bastard but your name is not nearly enough to protect him or his mother should you abandon them."

Marcus still reeled at the thought of being a father. He didn't want to think about the consequences of bringing a life into this world. Unfortunately, it appeared that Radcliff was determined to force the issue. "I don't know if I can do this," he admitted.

"You don't have a choice," Douglas said crossing back to where Edington still sat on the floor. "Shove over," he said, "and get rid of that rot." 

Surprised, Marcus automatically took the flask Radcliff offered him. 

"Is this really all because there is a babe on the way?" Douglas finally asked. "I would think you would be happy at the idea of a son and an heir. Sabrina and I have been hoping..."

"Leave it be," Marcus said. "It's not something you can fix."

"Have you spoken to your wife?"

"She doesn't need to be burdened with this," Marcus said taking another drink.

Radcliff was quiet for a moment. "A while back I thought to protect my wife," he said. "The particulars are not important for this discussion. What matters is that when she found out it nearly destroyed our marriage. In her mind, my greatest crime was not telling her and leaving her to find out from someone else."

"What are you getting at?" Marcus asked.

"Whatever is going on with you, trust Joan to be able to handle it. Talk to your wife, tell her what is going on."

"The truth shall set me free?" Marcus mocked.

"I don't know," Douglas said getting to his feet and heading for the door. "But it certainly cannot be any worse than where you are right now."

"Will you tell them that you found me?"

"I don't know," Douglas admitted. "Either way, I won't be telling them about the whore."

"There's nothing to tell," Marcus said. "Honestly," he said in answer to Radcliff's grunt of disbelief. "I thought to but in the end..." he shrugged. "Whatever else I may be an adulterer is not one of them."

Douglas nodded once in acknowledgement if not belief before letting himself out. 

**** Joan sat with Douglas and Sabrina, the two women taking tea and talking quietly while Douglas read the paper. It had three days since Joan came to stay with them, two days since Douglas' return without Marcus. At first, they had been hopeful but as the days passed Joan had become more resigned and Sabrina more angry.

"What are you going to do?" Sabrina asked gently. She had been careful to avoid much mention of Marcus as the two women spent most of the past few days together. But as more time passed without word she thought it best that they start to plan.

While she wasn't ready to start knitting booties, the reality of Joan's pregnancy had sunk in and she was starting to feel excited. "I don't know," she said. "I certainly can't remain here."

"Of course you can," Sabrina said. "In fact, what would you say to joining us at Arlington Park?"

Surprised, Joan blinked. "I...I don't know what to say. I know you haven't been back since the duke's passing."

Sabrina looked over at Douglas. "No, we haven't," she said. "But I think it's about time. We wouldn't be leaving right away, of course. You could spend the last of your confinement with us. Besides, there is nothing like a new baby to brighten a place up."

"While it's a very generous offer, I'm hoping that my wife will be returning home with me," Marcus said.

"Marcus." Joan rose to her feet but didn't cross to greet her husband. 

Marcus stood just inside the door; hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks he resisted the urge to fidget beneath the stares of three people that had become so important to him. "If I may," he said, breaking the silence, "I'd like a word with my wife."

Sabrina looked up at Joan, waiting for her to nod before rising. Crossing the room, she stopped next to Marcus. "You had better be back to stay," she said, her voice icy cold. "Because if you ever abandon them again I will ruin you and I will do it all while protecting your wife and child."

"Sabrina..." Joan said.

"No," Sabrina said over her shoulder. "Never again." 

Sabrina didn't wait for Marcus to respond before walking out, her steps beating an angry retreat.

"Edington," Douglas said with a nod before following his wife out of the room.

Marcus took a deep breath and rubbed at the spot between his eyes. 

"I'm sorry, she had no right..." Joan said.

"Don't," Marcus said, holding up a hand. "She's right, I've just never been on the receiving end of her anger."

Joan stood staring at her husband. She was unsure of what to say or do. "You wanted to speak with me?"

Marcus nodded. "May I sit?"

"Of course," Joan indicated the couch, taking a seat at the other end.




English Rose Ch. 08



"I owe you an apology, more than one, I'm sure," he started. "I should never have left the way that I did."

"I don't understand," Joan said, sadness at the memory tinging her words. "I thought you would be happy."

"I know," he said. Sitting on the end of the couch, the space between them felt almost too large to bridge. It had taken days but he had finally convinced himself that he had nothing to lose. Sitting in a rented room in the dark he was already alone. But if he took the risk, opened up and shared then maybe he could salvage whatever was left of his marriage. "I would like a chance to explain, if you're willing to listen."

Joan forced herself to consider before answering. More than anything she wanted to hear what he had to say, to believe that he could make it all better with a few words. "I don't know," she said. "Things are different now, Marcus. Whether you want to accept it or not, there is a child to consider and I just don't know if I can do this any more."

Marcus nodded, the lump in his throat catching him by surprise. "I understand and no matter what you decide I will care for both you and the babe."

"I realize you never wanted to marry," Joan said remembering their first meeting. Standing, she added, "I'm just sorry that it came to this."

"Wait," Marcus said, grabbing her hand when she went to step past him. "While it is true that I never thought to marry, the reasons are not what you might think."

"The reasons are not what matters," Joan said as tears began to burn behind her eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse me..." Joan pulled her wrist free and started to leave.

"My father killed himself." Marcus said. 

Joan stumbled to a stop. 

"I was thirteen when he shot himself," Marcus continued. "I was the one to find him."

Joan collapsed into the nearest chair. "Oh, Marcus," she whispered. "I am so sorry."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I did not mean to tell you in such a way."

Joan waited, she sensed that there was more to the story, more that Marcus wanted to tell her.

"I have made a mess of things," he said with a deep sigh. "The irony is that I knew that I would."

"Marcus?" Joan prodded when he fell silent.

Marcus rose and crossed the room. Pouring himself a drink, he tossed it back before moving to stand at the window. "I owe you an explanation," he said, his back to the room. "After you hear what I have to say you can decide whether you wish to remain here or return home with me. 

"My father loved life," he started. "I was raised on stories of my parent's whirlwind love affair. Of how he swept my mother off her feet and married her all within a fortnight. My mother once said that the first year of their marriage was the happiest time of her life. It was also the year I was born.

"Like any child, I had nannies, a governess and instructors but it wasn't unusual for my father to sweep in, gather me and my mother up and whisk us away on some adventure. My father lived for me and my mother," he said simply.

Joan felt her heart clench painfully as she listened. 

"Sometimes it was a simple trip to the sweet shop or a afternoon spent viewing whatever latest curiosity had come to London. There were boat rides on the Thames, quick trips to the country for a picnic and even the occasional new pony." Marcus felt the corners of his mouth lift slightly at the bittersweet memories. 

"I can't remember exactly how old I was, perhaps seven or eight, the first time my father slipped away. I remember spending the day in town and a new toy sail boat. We returned home and I was desperate to get it out on the water. I remember seeking my father out in his study only to find the door locked and one of the footman shooing me away. My mother told me that my father was tired after our adventure and needed some quiet time. I remember going outside and sailing my boat but something had changed. My mother wasn't as happy. She tried - for me, she tried - but it just wasn't the same without my father."

Marcus finally turned and forced himself to look his wife in the eye. "It was three days before he emerged from his study. He came to see me during my lessons and apologized. Later, he gifted my mother with a new necklace."

Joan touched the teardrop pendant at her throat. "Marcus," she whispered.

"After that life returned to normal, my mother and father were once again happy, their love big enough to include me. But as time went by the adventures came further and further apart while the quiet time lasted longer and longer. Until, in the end, there was nothing but silence."

"I was thirteen the last time I saw my father. The three of us spent the day together, my father finding endless entertainments for me and my mother. Our every whim was indulged until the carriage was overflowing with packages. He even took us to Tattersall's and bought new mounts for both me and my mother. That night it was my father who tucked me in and said goodnight before taking my mother out for the evening. She's never spoken to me about that night but I can imagine the love and attention he lavished on her."

Marcus found himself pulled back in time as memories of that day came flooding back. They were familiar ghosts, the same memories that haunted him and drove him into the darkness. He had been teetering on the brink since learning of his wife's pregnancy, revisiting his past was just the thing to send him careening down into the abyss. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that he wasn't that little boy any more. 

"We can stop," Joan offered.

Marcus gave her a grateful smile but shook his head and continued with his tale. "We both knew that something wasn't right, felt the edge of desperation that clung to my father but we were both too afraid to say anything. Neither one of us wanted to shatter the fragile happiness that had been missing from my father for so long. The next morning he packed us up and moved us to the country. I remember riding my new mount, my mother on one side of my father and I on the other. Everything was different, my father was happy and lightheartedness. It was only years later that I realized that he'd made his decision by then and the peace wasn't his happiness at being with me and my mother..."

Marcus swallowed the taste of bitterness speaking the truth had left in his mouth. He'd never spoken of the days leading up to his father's death - not even with his mother.

"Our first day in the country he insisted my mother and I take our new mounts out for a ride. I remember him standing in front of the house watching as we rode away and I remember not wanting to go." Marcus could still remember the fresh scent of the country air, his mother riding silently beside him. Neither one of them spoke, coming to some sort of silent agreement when it was time to turn and head towards home.

Marcus stopped to pour himself another drink. "As soon as we rode up I knew something was wrong. The house seemed unnaturally quiet, deserted. No one came to take our mounts or admit us into the house. I found my father in his study, he'd dismissed the servants for the day and then shot himself." 

"Oh, Marcus," Joan whispered as tears gathered behind her eyes.

Silence descended over the room. Joan sat absorbing everything she had learned while Marcus stood lost in thoughts of the past.

"I thought your father died in a riding accident," Joan said, breaking the silence.

Marcus looked up. "My father knew what he was about. He chose one of our smaller estates where the local magistrate was a friend of the family. He left...instructions..." Marcus said, his words hard.

"Instructions?" Joan asked, confused.

"There was a letter left on his desk; he had addressed it to me."

Joan was horrified. "Your father left a suicide note addressed to you? But you were just a child!"

Marcus shrugged. "I was old enough to take care of what needed doing," he said but refused to go into the unpleasant details of cleaning up after his father. Those were the darkest memories that haunted him still.

"I understand why you wouldn't want to speak of such painful memories," Joan said. "You have to know that none of this changes how I feel about you. I love you."

Marcus closed his eyes, his forehead dropping to rest against the window. Sometime over the past few days he had come to realize that this was what he wanted. This woman, this child, and the life they could build together. But it was the same path his father had chosen and he would not do that -- to either of them. "I do not deserve you," he said, turning he found her watching him with eyes bright with unshed tears.

"Because of what your father did?" Joan asked. "Marcus, that is ridiculous."

Marcus shook his head. "Not just because of what he did but because of who he was, who I am. I am just like my father," he said, looking pointedly at the pendant nestled between her breasts. "Whatever demons drove my father, whatever darkness lived in him resides in me. I inherited it from my father right along with his blonde hair and blue eyes."

Realization dawned. "You believe you are fated for the same end as your father," Joan said.

"I'm slipping, Joan," Marcus said quietly. "The darkness is swallowing me whole and I can't seem to stop it."

Joan felt helpless. This was beyond anything she had ever experienced. "I...I don't know what to say," she finally admitted.

Marucs gave her one if his famous self deprecating smiles. "You don't have to say anything. I've always known I was a hopeless cause. I never meant to drag you down with me."

"Then why marry me?" Joan asked. "Why tie yourself to me?"

"I seem to recall you were in need of a husband," Marcus evaded.

Joan narrowed her eyes, her lips thinning in frustration. "You and I both know that you didn't marry me out of some noble sense of propriety. You have none."

"Touche," he said but didn't try to tell her she was wrong.

"Bloody hell, Marcus! For once could you please be honest with me? Just once, can you give me a straight answer without any of the posturing."

"I'd say I've been very honest with you today," Marcus said softly.

Joan swallowed back some of her anger. "You're right, I apologize. I can only imagine how hard it was for you to share the truth about your father. I am glad that you told me. But it doesn't change anything between us. We're still in this place where you obviously don't want to be married to me and you don't want this child."

"That's not true," Marcus said. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I married you because it was the right thing to do, because you were strong and beautiful and ready to give up the life you had always planned for yourself rather than marry someone like Weaverly. I married you because you were everything I knew I would never deserve but for one moment of insanity thought perhaps I could have nevertheless."

"Then why did you shut me out? Why did you leave?" Joan asked.

"Because it's what my father did!" Marcus snapped feeling a twinge of guilt when she jumped. Restlessly, he ran his hand through his hair tugging furiously on the ends. "I am no better then he was! My father couldn't survive on his own so he got himself a wife and child, gave them the world and then ripped it all away. I won't do that to you!"

Marcus starred hard at Joan, his eyes bright with too many emotions to name. "I breath easier when you're around. I live to see you smile, twice as much when I know I'm the cause. I step into the house and my heart sinks to find you gone...and I can't live like that! I can't depend on you to be there and I can't survive the darkness that threatens to over take me when you're not."

Stunned, Joan stood speechless. All this time she'd thought he didn't care, that having never wanted to marry his actions were that of a man trying to deal with an unwanted wife. "I didn't know," Joan said. "I thought you didn't want me."

"Oh, I want you," Marcus said, "too bloody much."

"Marcus, I'm your wife. There is no 'too much' where we are concerned. I want to be there for you, I want to share a life with you -- all of it. Marriage isn't just the good times, it's the good, bad and everything in between."

"You didn't sign on for this," Marcus said. 

"Let's be honest," Joan said. "Neither one of us knew exactly what we were getting into when we married. You didn't want a wife..."

"Joan..."

"No," Joan said, hand raised to stop him. "You weren't looking to get married. In fact, if I remember correctly you were adamantly against it. As for me, well, you certainly were not what I had imagined for myself."

Marcus frowned. "What do you mean?"

Joan couldn't help but smile at her husband's disgruntled question. "Every little girl dreams of meeting a white knight, a man that will sweep her off her feet. At the very least I had thought to have a more traditional courtship."

"Yes, well, we can thank Weaverly for that," Marcus said. Thinking back on the night he had met his wife, Marcus felt the familiar urge to track down the bastard and do him bodily harm. 

"I'm not complaining," Joan said. "I've come to care for you..."

"Earlier you said you love me," Marcus said.

Joan flushed. She hadn't meant to disclose her feelings to Marcus -- at least not yet -- but having done so she wouldn't take it back. "I do love you," she admitted. "So, how we came to be no longer really matters to me. It's what we do going forward that I care about. I want to be with you, Marcus. I want to share my life with you, raise this child and hopefully others and grow old together. But I can't do that when you constantly shut me out."

"I don't want you to see me like that," Marcus said, horrified at the very idea, "and what about our child? Should he be forced to bear witness to his father's slow slide into insanity, gaining a front row seat to his own future? Have you thought about that? About the fact that if my father suffered as I do then there is every chance that I have already condemned our child to the same fate."

Joan shook her head. "It doesn't matter, no matter what happens I will always be there for our child. He or she will never have to go through anything like this alone." Joan rose and went to stand before her husband. "I would be there for you, too, if you'll just let me."

Marcus stared down at her, searching her face. 

"What do you have to lose?" Joan asked.

"You."

"If you don't let me in then you've lost me already," Joan said softly.

Marcus was silent for so long that Joan started to wonder if she'd pushed too hard. She didn't want to lose him but she knew that neither one of them could continue as they had been.

"Will you return home with me?" Marcus asked. "I can't promise anything except that I will try."

Joan nodded. "That is all that I am asking for."

Marcus watched as she went to inform Sabrina of her plans to return with him. He felt sick to his stomach at the idea of sharing what had always been a private shame with his wife. He knew that there was no fixing him. Whatever was wrong with him had broken long ago, perhaps at birth, but maybe there was an easier way, a way in which he wasn't alone.

"I would like you to have a word with the servants when we return home," Joan said. They were returning home, riding quietly through rainy streets. Sabrina had made her promise to let them know if there was anything Joan needed. While Douglas had surprised her by having a quiet word with Marcus before slapping him heartily on the back. Since taking their leave, Joan had been sitting beside Marcus in the carriage quietly thinking about the recent past and their future.

"To what end?" Marcus asked

"It wasn't just a locked door between us," Joan said. "You issued orders that effectively put our entire household between us. No matter that I am their mistress, you will always be master of the house and they will ultimately defer to you."

Marcus nodded. "Go on."

"My thought was that if we speak to them now, when we are both clear of head and outline certain...protocols regarding the future then we can avoid such a situation. I will need their help, Marcus, not their hindrance."

Marcus stared out the carriage window. It was a simple request and made all manner of sense. Still, he hesitated to agree.

"They are loyal to you, Marcus. There isn't a one among them that would speak of what happens in our home."

"I am aware of that," Marcus said. Most of the household servants had been with the Edington family for generations, positions passed down from father to son. "I will speak to Dillon when we return."

"Thank you," Joan said, slipping her fingers into Marcus' hand and giving a gentle squeeze. "We will get through this, I promise."

Marcus looked down at his wife and realized that he was starting to believe her. For the first time in years Marcus felt hope.

****

Four months later...

Marcus came home to find Dillon waiting for him.

"Good afternoon, my lord."

"Dillon. I trust all is well," Marcus said handing him his hat and gloves.

"Yes, well, as to that," Dillon started.

"What is my wife asking for now?" Joan was well into her pregnancy and had been experiencing some rather unique cravings. 

"My lord," Dillon said his eyes flicking to a point over Marcus' shoulder.

Marcus turned and stared. 

Dillon watched as his lordship's lips twitched before finally breaking into a full smile, complete with laughter. "Dillon?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"Where is the door to my study?" Hearing himself, Marcus broke out into fresh laughter.

"Her ladyship ordered it removed," Dillon said lightly.

"I can see that," Marcus said. "Did she happen to say why she wanted the door removed?"

"She thought that perhaps you were feeling a little restless as of late," Dillon said.

Marcus sobered. He had been feeling restless. He hadn't realized that Joan had noticed. "Where is my wife?"

"Upstairs, my lord," Dillon said.

Marcus nodded and with one last look at the empty doorway went to see his wife.

Reclining on her bed, Joan punched at the pillows behind her back in a useless attempt to get comfortable. She had thought to put her feet up and perhaps nap but as soon as she laid down the babe grew restless. "Just like your father," she muttered.

"Exasperated by our son already?" Marcus asked from the doorway.

She looked up to find her husband smiling at her from across the room. "Our daughter," she said with emphasis, "is refusing to let me nap."

Marcus shook his head as he crossed the room and climbed up onto the bed beside her. "Sorry, darling, as I keep telling you, we Edingtons breed boys."

Joan smiled, no longer surprised when Marcus laid his head in her lap and pressed his lips to the growing bulge of her belly. Reaching down, she brushed the hair back from his forehead noting the haunted look that had been growing in his eyes. "I take it you've seen the study."

"What's left of it," Marcus said.

Joan smiled at his attempted humor. "Did I go too far?"

Marcus shook his head. "But what's to stop me from locking myself in the library instead?"

"The study door came off easily enough, I doubt the library would give us much more trouble," Joan said matter-of-factly. "Easier I would think now that the servants have had practice."

Marcus grew serious. "Joan..."

"I know," she said, understanding. "All I ask is that you try. I'm not expecting everything to magically be different and if you need to retreat into your study then by all means, go. I removed the door not to keep you from locking yourself in but to keep you from locking me out. Please, Marcus, if nothing else let me be there for you, even if you ask nothing of me."

They had talked at length about Marcus' 'episodes' as they had come to calling them. Slowly, bit by bit, Marcus had revealed the details of his experiences. It was clear that it went beyond a simple case of ennui but neither one of them truly knew what to make of it all. Joan had suggested speaking with Marcus' mother in hopes that she might be able to shed some light having gone through something similar with his father. Marcus had adamantly refused, going so far as threatening to leave for good if she so much as mentioned it to his mother. He was willing to open up and share with Joan but his mother had suffered enough dealing with his father.