Three years since her wedding day Vanessa remains a virgin. When her sickly husband the Duke of Tarrick demands she produce an heir with a man of his choosing she is horrified. To refuse leaves her penniless and alone for when the cruel Duke dies his estate passes elsewhere. Vanessa’s choices are narrowing every day. To submit to his demand would see her honour surrendered to new stablehand Fitz. His sparkling green eyes might match her husbands, but his cocky, arrogant attitude riles her. He sees no value in her titles and riches, seeking only to enjoy lifes opportunities. Including sleeping with a famous Duchess. The added risk of snooping servants and family scandal suggests Vanessa should stick to her obsessive husband's strict rules for their arranged intimacy. Especially when Fitz proves to be much more than his first impression. But what if giving away her honour to such a casual rogue is the spark that makes her world finally explode into life?
View MoreThe honeymoon period only extended, month after month. Summer ebbed leading to autumnal nights. The darkness outside and roaring fire saw many a night spent on the large sofa close together. I would lay with my head on his lap reading as he did the same. Without judgement or expectations of others we were able to find our own ebb and flow. We did not live in constant contact. I adored my riding, Fitz loved to fix and engineer solutions to anything. He was quite the hero in the local town. He was seen as the local engineer rather than the landlord and out-of-towner. We purposely did not communicate with the outside world. I knew Marie would be anxious for a letter but it was too great a risk. Someone like Henley, still working for Edmund could chance to manipulate Marie into giving information. It was better to vanish entirely. Fitz had not heard from his brother since returning northwards to claim me, however they had agreed between them for him to visit at Christmas. They did not
The next month was utterly blissful. We soon fell into a happy routine. I shrieked with joy when Fitz showed me the manor had a stable attached. A young local lad named Jacob, only twelve, was in charge of looking after our horses. We had one each and a tiny fell pony for Eleanor when she grew older.My mare was similar to Amber and very sweet in temperament. I called her Felicity and soon adopted a habit of taking myself for long windswept rides. After feeding Eleanor in the morning the summer meadows beckoned me forth. I would leave father and daughter content in the gardens, and examining flowers. Fitz talked to her as if she was a small adult, explaining in great, exaggerated detail the differences between tulips and posies. She babbled back, as though fully understanding as I arrived back red-faced and delighted with the world.The riding and continued feeding somehow aided my recovery from childbirth. The strength required by my body to trot and gallop across the winding meadow
I gasped and my head tilted upwards. He lavished kisses upon my bare skin, all whilst his single finger gently, sweetly probed me. As he released a torrent of wetness he let his own deep groan of desire. His finger circling my most sensitive little mound, sent urgent jolts of pleasure throughout my body.“Fitz, I have missed you, I have missed us,” I murmured, gripping his hair and breathing into his chest. “If this hurts you must say and I shall stop,” he rasped as his finger slid inside my most private place. It did not hurt much, only different. It still felt like the most natural, perfect sensation on earth. Shuddering in his grasp he gently caressed me into a quivering high. Drawing me out like teasing wool, his touch and swirling, circular motion had me whimpering into his body. My fingers clutched at his buttons, trying to open his shirt so that I could kiss and adore his bare flesh. His constant touch and affection left me gasping for breath, relentless pleasure searching eve
Fitz, my perfect, deviously charming, amazing Fitz was as good as his word. After the revelatory breakfast, supplied with fresh horses we managed to travel another forty miles before changing horses once again. On the Liverpool road we stopped at an inn. Anyone who might notice us and fancy making a penny on our names in the papers would surely report we were headed for the docks. Perhaps fleeing to the Americas for a new start. However our rumbling carriage eventually headed down south, towards the Welsh border. The further we travelled the more remote and beautiful the landscape became. Rolling green hills and pastures greeted us, plentiful villages with children running freely. Exhaustion was soon catching upon us. We took it in turns to sleep and hold Eleanor as the carriage rattled and bounced its way along the road. Despite the uncomfortable journey we teased and laughed with each other. Everything felt lighter, the further away from Tarrick Hall the greater my joy.It was so
*** FITZ POV***I allowed myself a minute to revel in her arrival before necessity made us flee..“You came,” I whispered again, nuzzling my lips against her bare neck. She let out a little moan of pleasure as I gently stroked her arms and waist. Little Eleanor was between us as I struggled to contain my utter joy. I wanted to press her to me and back in her.“We must go, I shall tell you everything on the way,” and just as I began to pull away, she grabbed me once more. “Fitz, I love you,” she murmured, “I should have done this the moment I realised I loved you.” Vanessa’s lips sought mine with a hunger I had sorely missed. My body surged with desire, there was nothing I wanted more than to show her my adoration had not ebbed in the slightest.Almost a year parted but my love had only expanded.Finally she released me, her hands gripping onto my black greatcoat, her face flushed with passion. Even in the near darkness her blue eyes sparkled and left me short of breath. “Come, we must
Although mid-July the wind whipped viciously outside. As I strode along the huge corridors towards his suite I could still see the trees swaying from the windows. The driveway torchilights were slowly flickering, by the time midnight approached only a few would be left to guide my way.I felt my heart seize as I approached Edmund’s doorway. So many times I had imagined this scenario. Sometimes Fitz was there holding my hand, promising to keep me safe. Other times I had imagined leaving without a single trace. After our honeymoon and realisation I was a prisoner within this grey stone tomb I had fantasised about fleeing in the night almost daily.Tonight it is finally time to discard my chrysalis. The gowns and fripperies that made me a Duchess are not my true colours. They are the trappings of a prisoner, albeit shinier and more ornate. The plain navy gown and cornflower blue day dress I wear are my true wings. These naturally fitting, comfortable garments will suit my life as I navig
Waking with a start I worry everything was a dream. Eleanor was immediately upon me, mewling and fussing for another feed. Yet Fitz had vanished. My wounded lion, who made no fuss of his injuries despite clearly being in considerable pain. Drowsily I rang the bell hanging from its red velvet rope as Marie appeared.“You are well Your Grace?” as she quickly helped hold Eleanor for me whilst I unfastened my gown. “Marie, you helped…” failing to utter his name. I had never discussed my true feelings for him with anyone. It was too terrifying to make someone aware of the glass, fragile core of my heart.“I did. Only once I must add,” she replied, smiling down at the gurgling baby in her arms. “I gave him the money from your bureau.”Of course. He had been robbed. He has nothing and my soul aches at remembering his wounded face. He had done his best to wipe the blood away but he could not hide the bruising under his eyes. He confessed he has not made his fortune, as if that would deter me
*** Fitz POV ***Standing there waiting whilst Marie informed her was the greatest test of self-restraint I have ever faced. Knowing that behind that thick swaddling of damask fabric lay my newborn child and the brightest light of my life. I had almost forgotten the battered state of my body, the fact that twenty hours ago my nose had been broken and my ribs crushed under the boot of a thug. Nothing mattered now. As Marie offered to watch the door, it enabled me to finally break through the barrier. I heard her soft gasp at seeing my fingers threading through the material. By the time I ducked my head and body inside the curtain I was certain I could faint on sight. For there she lay, a glittering angel under candlelight. Her long brown curls were piled up high. A few chestnut tendrils snaked their way down her perfect, elegant neck. A white nightgown, buttoned high up to her neck gave her an angelic appearance. Her blue eyes were tired but they still had that captivating sparkle.
Marie was by my side from the moment the hot fluid first appeared between my legs. She burst into the room before my second scream of panic, suggesting she had been incredibly close to the doorway the entire time. Edmund said nothing further, merely scowling as Marie suggested the staff send for Doctor Mathers.“Your Grace I am here, do not fret,” she soothed, grasping my hand to her chest as I surveyed the damp bedding in panic. We must move you, you will be quite safe, come along. I have a room prepared.”Walking quickly, aware that at every step more liquid was seeping from between my legs we headed into a guest room across the hallway. There were dozens of towels, linens and a hot tin bath waiting. Marie rang a bell three times sharply, within a minute half a dozen servant girls appeared.“Just as we have prepared ladies, I want this tub full and hot, I want the fire lighting and you are to fetch Doctor Mathers in here the instant he arrives.”They curtsied as I found myself reduce
On my wedding day I was a nervous, terrified virgin. Three years on I remain untouched, the nerves replaced with resentment. Seething anger that my husband, a man almost thirty years my senior, has thieved the youthful life I could have enjoyed. Quieter in nature he prefers to spend his months sequestered away in his study at Tarrick Hall. His months are my months. As the dutiful wife, Vanessa, Duchess of Tarrick, I go where he goes. Each autumn I beg for us to head down to London for the Season, to have a fleeting taste of life and excitement amongst my peers. The Season lasts from November to July. Last year I managed just a few balls in March. It was excruciating to conceal my desperation. To meet people from my generation other than my sister, hear laughter peal around a crowded room. Last season the gossip rags referred to me as the “missing Duchess,” a line that always made the Duke chuckle cruelly at our shared breakfast table. Today, like every other I am sitting in quiet c...
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