Chapter 2

Stephen leaned against the ship’s weathered rail and made a mental note of its need for maintenance while he watched the English shore transform into a tiny, thin line that looked about to fall off the edge of the ocean’s waters. It was good to be back on the open sea, even if it was under such unhappy circumstances. Sailing always made him feel free and alive.  It was a feeling he especially craved after the heartache and trauma the last few months provided.

The stuffiness of London society was in stark contrast to the freedom of his life in the raw and newly formed United States. Even if he had not learned of his bride’s voyage to the new world, he would have returned to it eventually. His bride’s outrageous antics provided him with the excuse to do so earlier, and with his father’s blessings.

Upon summons of his ailing father Stephen returned to England immediately, although reluctantly. The affairs of his family’s estate were in turmoil and he was required at home to assist. The duke was unwell and his physicians were unable to diagnose the cause of his ever worsening breathing ailment. To add to the upheaval, the overseer, Mr. Eversmith, suffered a tragic fall from his mount while chasing poachers off their land and died from a broken neck. With his father bedridden and the overseer deceased, the lands and management of the estate were in dire need of attention. His mother’s letter begged him to make haste in returning to assume his father’s duties as the duke of their grand lands, even if he had yet to inherit the title.

Concerned that his son was still unwed and the possibility that he may not see the birth of the future of his bloodline, the duke made inquiries about eligible young ladies for his son. He finally settled on the daughter of Sir Thomas Nottingham.

Although born a merchant’s son, Nottingham had been a distinguished physician who caught the king’s eye and was awarded a title and a fortune. He also managed to marry into an old and established family, which took away a considerable amount of the sting of his less than noble birth. Whatever the girl lacked in pedigree, she made up for with her delicate, aristocratic beauty and sizable dowry. The Duke was taken by the way wisps of dark, unruly hair framing her delicate oval face.  It accentuated her deep violet eyes, prominent cheekbones, and thick, lush lips. She proved well-schooled in etiquette, displaying ever the demure and well-bred lady whenever seen in public. Although slight in frame, she seemed hearty enough. Inquiries provided nary a report of illness to her credit. Yes, Elizabeth Nottingham would do nicely to add to the duke’s legacy, very nicely indeed.

Along with the identity of his choice of brides, Stephen’s father provided him with a brief history of her family.  As the only surviving heir to the family’s mercantile business, Thomas Nottingham inherited at an early age after his mother, father, sister, and brother were stricken by a gripping illness that took hold of their bodies and possession of their lives so quickly there was no time to diagnose, let alone treat the horrendous affliction. When Thomas returned from a buying trip, he discovered he was not only an orphan, but the new owner of a business he cared little about. Grief stricken, he decided to sell the business and study medicine. He was determined to become the best in the medical field so he could help prevent what happened to his family from happening to others. His choice in vocations proved to be a very wise decision. Skilled as a physician and eager to progress in life and make himself worthy to stand beside the woman who stepped down in her station the day she agreed to be his wife, Thomas managed to catch the King’s eye and affection enough to be awarded a knighthood and a rather extensive estate.  To this he added his own considerable inheritance. Out of this estate, Elizabeth stood to receive a respectable fortune upon her wedding day. The duke felt these factors far outweighed the scandal of her parent’s defiant elopement.

The earl’s description of Lady Elizabeth to the duke was that of a dutiful, young woman who was well schooled in the social graces and worldly events. Although he would sometimes witness an occasional high spirit not suitable of a lady –no doubt inherited from her father’s common side- he was certain was well influenced by proper society and educated enough to be a model wife, mother, and head of household to compensate for any undesirable residue that may have remained within her common breeding.

Stephen wrestled with telling his father he developed an acquaintance with a socialite in the colonies.  She was a striking southern belle from the plantation nearest his in Georgia.  He found her witty as well as lovely to look at. He was considering courting her prior to being summoned to return home. It even crossed his mind to court her in spite of the summons.

After much thought, he decided against it. He knew that once his father made a decision of such magnitude, he would not be prone to change it. There was also the fact that, even though she was not of the purest pedigree, the Lady Elizabeth Nottingham was still of a higher and much more acceptable station for the taste of British society than Miss Paulette Moore. This was something a future Duke needed to keep in mind.

Stephen sighed and braced himself for the inevitable. He would have to shift his attentions from the fiery warmth of his beautiful and charming southern belle who he had grown quite fond of to the cold aloofness of a prim and proper English gentlewoman whom he knew nothing about, but had somehow passed the scrutiny of his father enough to be selected as his bride. Such an undertaking might take a bit of getting used to.

Keenly aware that neither the earl nor his father’s description of Elizabeth included beauty, Stephen appealed to be allowed to view her on a few occasions without her knowledge of their intended nuptials. He explained that he wished to see her in her own element when she was not necessarily at her best behavior as a woman might be should a man be courting her. To himself he admitted that if she was not comely -which he assumed she was not- he would like to be prepared for that fact and have time to adjust to the sacrifice he would be making for his family’s sake. It would also afford him the opportunity to discover what it was about the young chit that gave his father cause to overlook her less than perfect pedigree and acceptance into the family.  It was a puzzlement that weighed heavy on him.

Had he not been absent from London society for such a long time, Stephen would have been aware of Lady Elizabeth’s rich, exotic beauty and witnessed her impeccable manners and perfect etiquette during the many events she attended since her coming out ball. Taking into consideration the ten years that Stephen was away from London society while residing in a primitive land, Earl Roberts humored him and granted his odd request. Besides, there was the matter of the marital contract to be worked out before they could even think of going public with such an announcement.  A marriage was a serious business venture and need not be rushed. He would allow Lord Carlson the time he requested to observe his niece, although an odd request it was.

Stephen was invited to several events where he was able to interact with Elizabeth. Although his young bride-to-be was far more reserved thank his fiery southern belle, Miss Paulette Moore, she still displayed a warmth and innocent zest for life that Stephen had not anticipated and was extremely pleased to discover. As a bonus, and much to his relief, he found her beauty to exceed any of the women he ever laid eyes on, including Miss Paulette.

I all his travels he had never seen such a combination of porcelain skin, rosy cheeks, rich violet eyes, and thick, carefree raven hair on a petite, perfectly proportioned female body. The fact that she appeared fragile, but healthy, only served to make her even more appealing.

He found her irresistible.

It took every ounce of his strength and reserve to hold back and not declare his love for her the moment he was introduced at the Regent’s party. Knowing she was his betrothed, he struggled vehemently with the jealousy that swelled within him each time he watched her dance with the most eligible gents in the room. Never before had he found his emotions so difficult to keep in check.

The tortuous delight of being seated so near Elizabeth during the opera Countess Westbury invited him to almost proved to be Stephen’s undoing. Upon a few stolen glances in the countess’s direction, he could have sworn he caught a fleeting look of amusement on the Countess’s gracefully aged face before she pulled it into check. Was her amusement at his expense? Did she realize his torture? He would put nothing past the bored aristocracy that was always in search of some small amusement to help them get through their days.

The terms of marriage negotiations with the earl were decidedly more complex than Stephen would have expected. He heard whispers here and there that Earl Roberts found caring for his niece troublesome and tedious. Wagging tongues insisted that the earl would have much preferred taking on the care of his nephew and being spared that of his niece.  When his negotiations with Stephen proved in favor of his niece’s future wellbeing, it came as a great surprise.

Although the earl’s demands were fair and just, they took time to arrange. This caused a delay in the announcement of their intended nuptials, which was something Stephen found regretfully tortuous. He would have much preferred to have London know the beautiful Lady Elizabeth would soon belong to him.  He particularly wanted to flaunt this fact to the wolf-like gents who flocked around her at every public event she attended.

Stephen found his meetings with Lord Roberts difficult to endure when he knew Elizabeth was somewhere under the same roof. He struggled with a burning longing to be sitting in her company and would have agreed to anything to shorten the meetings to be free to seek her out.  Much to the earl’s delight, he practically did.

It was common for women to seek the company of Lord Stephen Carlson and he found them easy to entertain.  It was because of this fact that he was so frustrated when he finally had the opportunity to be alone with the beautiful Lady Elizabeth and could not summons his manly charms. He thought her lovely and delicate; like an exotic bird. For some unknown reason, he could not shake the gnawing fear that his exotic bird might fly away. Her overall effect on him was overwhelming and he inevitably became embarrassingly and uncharacteristically over-heated and tongue-tied. Within minutes of seating himself in the room with her all wittiness and gifts of conversation left him. Frustrated by his boyish behavior, he found himself making excuses to shorten his stay and escape to the welcoming embrace of the fresh air outside.

Immediately upon his first encounter with Elizabeth, he realized how ridiculous his request to have their arrangement kept secret was. He loved her from the minute he set eyes on her. When the earl finally surprised him and announced their engagement during the intimate dinner party, Stephen’s heart almost leapt from his body with excitement and anticipation. Without thinking, he placed his hand over hers in open display of affection.

The cold clamminess of Elizabeth’s velvety skin as he enveloped her hand with his own was the first indication that perhaps the beautiful and delicate Elizabeth was not as happy about their intended union as he. It was like a bucket of ice thrown in his face. He never expected her to be non-desirous of a union with him. It was every woman’s goal to make a fine match. He was so accustomed to women practically throwing themselves at him in pursuit of marriage that the possibility of a woman not wanting to marry him never even crossed his mind.

He cursed himself for catering to his own selfishness and not courting Elizabeth properly right from the start. If he learned nothing else, he was certain that a woman expected and desired to be wooed and cooed into loving her future husband. Even those who were in loveless marriages gone awry at one time enjoyed the pleasures of a courtship. His selfish fears had denied this lovely woman one of the most important experiences of a woman’s life. He was woefully sorry. Fully intending to make it up to her, Stephen made a silent vow to court her for the time remaining in their short engagement.

Since Stephen’s father was seriously ill, the doctor whispered concerns on more than one occasion that if he did not improve soon, death would more than likely ensue. Because of this, the wedding was set for less than forty-five days from the announcement, providing only enough time for the banns to be read, Elizabeth’s wedding gown to be made by the best dressmaker in London, and a menu to be planned by the best cooks and pastry makers in the city. Lord Cyrus Roberts may not have concerned himself with Elizabeth’s happiness, but he certainly monitored his own reputation with great care. Therefore, only the best of the best would be allowed to create a wedding that would be the talk of London society for months to come.

Sadly, before Stephen was even able to begin his courting ritual, his intentions came to a crashing halt. His opportunities were severely impaired when his father’s health took an acute turn for the worse. The demands for the wellbeing of his family’s estate that were placed on the newly engaged Lord Carlson were of such that he found little time for anything other than keeping a close watch on business affairs. Sadly, his visits with Elizabeth were far and few between. What worsened the situation was how his continual and irritating shyness impaired his ability to express his thoughts and feelings whenever he did find the time to be in her company.

Even though the earl’s sudden request for a quick and quiet wedding took Stephen and his family by surprise, it was generally well received. His father was most anxious to see his only son and heir to his fortune and title satisfactorily wed before he died, and Stephen as equally eager to take this beautiful and exotic goddess, Elizabeth, as his wife. The groom and his family were more than happy to oblige.

Even so, reasons for the rushed marriage danced through Stephen’s head as he stood in the cozy, ancient chapel with only a few of their closest relatives in attendance and watched Elizabeth slowly make her way down the aisle toward him. Since their engagement was not a lengthy one from the start, he was certain something was amiss to cause this unexpected shortening of it.

Stephen frowned as he took in the vision of beauty that was now standing so near that he could revel in her sweet, delicious scents. She was robbed of the pleasures of a proper courtship and now her right to experience a dream wedding was crushed. He did his best to peer through the silver threads of the thick, white voile shrouding her beauty. He may have been a man who appreciated and respected customs, but at this particular moment he wished they had forgone the custom of the veil. There should be a law against covering such beauty for even the briefest of moments.

The fact that Elizabeth was wearing the latest in wedding gown colors did not go unnoticed. She looked a vision in her billowing layers of rich, white satin adorned with creamy pearls. She decided against the modern hip and buttock pads, opting for the older and more traditional pannier beneath her skirts; creating a somewhat regal swag when she slowly made her way down the aisle. They may have eliminated the big wedding, but they at least managed to procure the perfect gown. Surely this fact pleased his beautiful young bride.

His frown deepened as he thought about the social association with the color of her gown. Although white was the latest rage in fashion, a white wedding gown was also intended to portray virginity and innocence. For a while, the church was in an uproar over the open flaunting of what should be kept private, but with both the fashion world and social mind-set insisting on it, the church eventually calmed down and accepted the new trend.

Could Elizabeth’s virginity be a factor in rushing this wedding? After all, their marriage was unexpectedly and most urgently pushed forward by several months and practically being held in secret. They had not even completed the reading of their banns. This lack of the completion of the reading of the banns was a concern Stephen expressed. He was assured by the earl that it was a small issue that they could work around as he urged the young lord to move forward with the wedding. The earl’s determination to marry his niece off so quickly could only mean one thing. The lady was wearing virgin white falsely and was probably with child.

Although the thought that another man enjoyed what he coveted as his own and had planted his seed within her velvety depths was difficult to bear, Stephen did his best to look past it. He was, after all, a man of the world and therefore should understand such things. The closed doors of London society did not necessarily promote the chastity in their women like one might assume. Since he became her betrothed but a few short weeks ago, he would accept her indiscretions as the actions of a foolish girl who grew up without the proper guidance a mother would have normally provided. One could hardly expect a governess who was very nearly the age of her protégé to give the girl the same guidance as a mother might give. As for her uncle... it was clear from the start that he was neither up to, nor desirous, of the task.

Suspecting something was amiss, Stephen engaged in a brief discussion with the earl about the possibility of Elizabeth having experienced an interlude and the need to marry being so great that even a day’s delay would not do. He expressed clearly that although he would oblige the earl with his request, if his niece was with child, he must insist on reserving the option of sending the child to the earl for care. Not only did Stephen feel he should not be expected to care for the result of the foolish girl running amiss due to improper supervision by her guardian, there was also the possibility of a male child being born. Surely the earl realized that it would be impossible for him to claim such a child as his own when the laws required the family fortune go to the first born son. After all, his primary purpose for marrying Elizabeth was to produce an heir to carry on his family bloodline. Of course, something of such a delicate nature would not be further addressed until the sex of the child was known.

Although it was obvious that the earl was put out by Stephen’s assumptions, mode of conversation, and insult to his guardianship, he readily agreed. His desire to be free of his niece seemed overwhelmingly acute.

Now, -seeing his bride-to-be standing so lovely and so near- his body quivered with anticipation.  Stephen regretted his words with her uncle. It did not matter if Elizabeth was with child. It did not matter that she had gone amiss. All that mattered was that she was going to be his. He was marrying the sweetest, most beautiful woman in the land. No... in the world. That was all that mattered. All he had to do was shed his foolish awkward nervousness whenever she was near and life would be perfect.

Although Elizabeth never voiced as such, her actions made it painfully clear during their brief engagement and equally brief wedding ceremony that she did not desire marriage to him. Assuming her heart was captured by the father of the child budding in her womb, Stephen overlooked her obvious sulking and resigned himself to the possibility that theirs was likely to be one of the typical marriages of arrangement.  Such marriages were all too common in London society. Although he prayed she might one day love him, he hoped they would at least work things out enough to be friends. After all, the bonds of a genuine friendship could prove to be quite rewarding. He regretted his arrogance and thoughtless assumptions as he recalled their wedding night.

Thinking he was not dealing with a virgin, his only focus in mind was to possess her wholly and wipe away any trace of the man who tasted her pleasures before him. To add to the situation, he drank his fill of courage during the reception as a precaution against that cursed nervousness that always arose in her presence. It would not do to have his body fail him during the sealing of the nuptials.

She fought him, of course, but that was to be expected. They were, for the most part, strangers and she was forced to marry him when she loved another. Curiosity for her lover’s identity entered his mind only fleetingly before his intoxicated lust for his new bride took over. It did not matter that she resisted. He was certain she would come around after a few evenings in his bed and forget all about the man she left behind. He was, after all, a very accomplished lover.

If only he had not been so foolish and drank so much during their small, but elaborate reception.

She’d remained by his side as a new wife should for the majority of the evening, excusing herself only to take care of necessities. As per usual, her nearness caused his emotions to run rampant. He wanted to hold her close and whisper that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and declare how he loved her from the moment he met her, but his tongue would not cooperate. His loins ached with excruciating anticipation. He would have given anything for the opportunity to take her there and then, but social etiquette kept them apart.

While he remained distorted inside from the tortures of her nearness, yet calm on the outside for all eyes to see, those in attendance praised what a lovely couple they made. Stephen could hardly endure it. He saw only one recourse for a man who suffered so.

Drink.

So, drink he did.

By the time he finally found himself alone with his beautiful bride in their newly acquired townhouse and was free to adorn her with his professions of love without the risk of a room full of listening ears, his mind was duly dulled by champagne and cognac. He was unable to articulate a single word. His body, on the other hand, came alive with a mind of its own. Frustrated over his incapacitated speech and unable to keep his urges in check, he wasted no time in bedding his new bride and claiming her sweetness as his own.

That was an act he would regret for the rest of his life.

Had Stephen’s mind not been so fogged with alcohol, he would have realized his new bride was not fighting him off with all her might because of her love for another man. She was battling out of fear and confusion over what was happening to her.

Had Stephen’s senses been more alert, he would have recognized that his delicate flower was not educated as to what went on between a husband and wife. He would have realized that she needed coaxing and caressing to bring her to a state of acceptance of what was about to occur before he plunged his manhood deep into her velvety depths so unceremoniously.

Had Stephen been sober, he would have noticed the resistance that her virgin body gave him.

Alas, Stephen had not been sober.

Upon awakening the following morning with a head that felt like someone bashed it with the dull side of an ax. He was immediately humbled by his drunken folly. His heart twisted and he was filled with remorse when he rose onto one elbow and looked down at his still sleeping bride laying pinned beneath his bulk. Elizabeth’s eyes were swollen and red from a tear-filled night and the remnants of her finely sewn dressing gown were all askew. In his haste to possess her, Stephen had not even taken the time to remove it and spare the expertly sewn silk from his ravaging. Needless to say, the gown was ruined.

It was painfully clear that he passed out atop her small, beautifully shaped bosom upon completion of their consummation. If not for the softness of the thick feather mattress, his muscular body would have surely crushed her petite and delicate frame. As Stephen moved to the side of the bed the unmistakable signs that he’d bedded a virgin boldly coated Elizabeth’s gown and the bed covering, as well as parts of his own body. He groaned, sickened by his own actions.

Never before had he been so brutish with a woman – not even with the whores he occasionally bedded. How could he have been so idiotic as to allow himself so much drink? How could he have been such an animal, such a monster? What was it about Elizabeth Nottingham that caused him to act outside himself?

Stephen found the experience of a willing seductress much more compatible to his tastes and had therefore never bedded a virgin.  Even so, he knew they needed to be treated much differently than the way he treated his poor young bride. His recollection of their battle was a hazy fog.  From the bruises on her tender flesh, her swollen eyes, the torn gown, the stained bed covering, and the scratches on his chest, he was positive he treated her more like a whore than a new bride. No, worse than a whore. He provided no cooing and coaxing her fears away.  Even a whore would have received that courtesy.  The unbridled lust Stephen worked so hard to control got the better of him.  The fact that it was released by an excess of alcohol magnified the situation.

Ashamed and embarrassed by his barbaric actions, he debated what to do. Since it was clear she was not pouting over the loss of a lover, he could only assume that his new bride simply did not find him appealing enough to want to marry. Of course, after last night, he could hardly expect her to like him enough to be his friend, let alone love him.

Resigning himself to his self-inflicted fate, Stephen decided to bed her until she got with child. Then he would leave her alone and allow her to live as the rest of London society seemed to live. He had no desire to force himself on a woman who truly found him repulsive any more than he had to.  If it were not for the fact that he was expected to produce an heir, he would have walked away and never touched her again.

He sighed. Such is the lot of the aristocracy. Surely Elizabeth understood this. She may not have had a mother to instruct her, but she was a lady born and bred and some things were simply common knowledge. She would have to endure bedding him until the family line was secure and then he would set her free. She could remain in London and he would travel between his estate in England, his plantation in Jamaica, and his plantation in Georgia. Surely she would be tolerant of the rare visits this type of schedule would allow him.

The only flaw in Stephen’s plan -besides the tortuous fact that he loved her- would be if the first child Elizabeth bore was a girl. If that should happen, he would have to remain in England and bed her until an heir was presented.

He would worry about that later.

Stephen avoided Elizabeth all day.  He was far too ashamed to look at her, let alone enter into a conversation. If their paths did happen to cross and they had a need to address each other, the bare minimum was spoken.

When evening came and he once again entered her chambers, he found her reluctantly huddled in the middle of her bed with the richly embroidered covers pulled tight around her neck. His petite young bride looked small, innocent, and frightened on a mattress that looked spacious enough for her entire wait staff to slumber on.

He moaned with remorse for his own stupidity. If he had not been expected to impregnate Elizabeth immediately for his ailing father’s sake, he would have left the room and allowed her the peace her rich violet eyes so clearly begged him for. If only his father was not so ill, he could delay things and give her time to recover from their wedding night fiasco. Actually, he too would have appreciated some time for the memory and guilt of his drunken abandonment to dissipate.

Stephen did his best to avoid Elizabeth’s haunting stare as he crossed the room and poured himself a hefty amount of brandy in a straight stemmed, intricately etched, wide-mouthed crystal goblet.

Her wide eyes never left him.

Tossing back the amber liquid as quickly as he could, he had another, and then another. Relaxation spread through his body almost instantly as the brandy’s warmth reached his stomach. Its artificial power surged through his veins, giving him the courage he needed to finally face her.

Glancing in Elizabeth’s direction, he poured a small amount into another glass and walked to the bed.

Cringing as far away from her new husband she was able, while still retaining coverage over her slender body proved impossible. The weight of his bulk as he sat down on the edge of the bed tossed her closer and the covers no longer guarded her as they once did. Her chemise slipped, exposing her silken shoulders, as she struggled to regain composure.

He absent-mindedly traced her exposed flesh along her collar bone with a finger as he offered her the brandy.  His thoughts fought his lustful anticipation of what was to come. She was so lovely, so delicate, and beautiful. His body responded on its own. He told himself it would be different this time. He consumed only enough brandy to take the edge off his boyish nervousness, not enough to make him drunk. He was in complete control now and would move slowly, sensually. He would woo her and show her what it was like to be loved by a man. He would wipe the memory of last night with his kisses and tender touch.

“Drink this. Twill loosen you up,” Stephen said gently.

“I do not wish to drink.” Elizabeth spat with squeaking emotion.

She may not know her husband well, but she conversed with him enough over the months to know she detected a mild slur in the handsome man’s voice and wondered how much he drank before he entered her bed chambers and downed half a decanter of brandy before her very eyes. It was all too obvious that Stephen disliked bedding her just as much as she disliked bedding him.

“Tonight you do,” Stephen commanded with a little more force than he intended.

Upon seeing Elizabeth’s eyes open wide with fright, he heaved a deep sigh. This was not going well. He had no experience wooing a reluctant woman. If only she could like him just a little. This would be so much easier... and pleasurable. He wanted to walk away and leave her at peace. He was at a loss at what to do or how to act.

Taking a deep breath, he continued in a manner less abrupt, “Please drink this. ‘Twill relax you just a little.”

Elizabeth raised her chin defiantly, “I do not wish to...”

“Drink it,” He blurted in frustration with a controlled voice that was barely above a whisper.

Stephen found the entire situation incredibly frustrating. He was not prepared to deal with a woman who resisted him in this manner night after night.  He had no idea how he should be acting. The fact that Elizabeth was so obviously repulsed by him when he wanted nothing more than to lay with her forever surprised, infuriated, and devastated him.

Elizabeth was stunned by her new husband’s sudden display of aggression. What type of man had she married? Her uncle assured her he was a well-bred young man who came from the finest of the finest.  He would be able to provide for her and her children better than most husbands could. He seemed so quiet and, well... dull during their brief times together. He certainly managed to fool people by hiding this horrific side of his nature quite efficiently. One would never guess this side of his persona when he is out and about.  Never.

It was no secret that Lord Stephen Carlson was the most sought after bachelor in London society.   Her good fortune was pointed out to her by more than one person on many an occasion. If they knew about his drinking problem would they think so highly of him?

Had it really been good fortune? Remembering Stephen’s drunken assault on her tender and innocent flesh just the night before, and hearing his aggressive manner just now gave Elizabeth cause to wonder just how fortunate she really was to have married the most sought after bachelor in London society.

Having watched him drink far more in a short period of time than was recommended over the course of a full night she determined she had the misfortune to have married a drunk. She heard whispers about such things. Would he beat her now? She prayed for a reprieve until she and the doctor could execute her plan of escape.

Thinking it best not to provoke him, Elizabeth took the glass and unceremoniously tossed the amber liquid down her throat. She rarely found cause to drink brandy. On the few occasions she did she found it quite distasteful and rarely let more than a few drops touch her lips. Therefore, she was not prepared for its fiery assault as it caused her throat to contract. Spinning into a fit of coughs and gasps, she struggled to suck in air.

Stephen pulled her close and patted her back in an effort to ease her discomfort. The sweet scent of lavender that mingled with the coarse heavy curls of her shiny, thick raven hair filled his nostrils, accentuated his headiness, and tantalized his loins. He groaned with dismay as unbridled lust twisted and beat at him in an unmistakable demand to be set free. It was like a wild beast seeking freedom from its cage.

Stephen summoned all his might to subdue his urges, for subdue them he must. He had no intention of repeating his actions from the night before. Tonight he would move slowly, carefully. Even if his wife did not desire him, she could at least enjoy the experience. He pleasured enough women to know that the mind did not require love for the body to enjoy its pleasures.

Realizing his intentions, Elizabeth pushed Stephen away with all her might while she struggled to free herself. In doing so, the lace of her loosely draped chemise fell off her shoulders, exposing a small, perfectly formed breast. Was this seemingly innocent goddess torturing him on purpose?

“Please. Not tonight. I... I hurt,” Elizabeth wailed in frustration.

Although she did not want to anger him, she wanted even less to repeat the nightmare of the night before.

“Sadly, my dear wife, I know of no way of avoiding the hurt.  I assure you that you will not feel hurt tonight like you felt last night, if you feel hurt at all.” Stephen looked away and sighed, “Had I realized, I would have done things differently.”

“Realized?” Elizabeth had no idea what he was referring to.

“’Tis no matter,” Stephen smiled. “Now, remove your gown please.”

Elizabeth froze. Was he serious? Did he actually expect her to remove her clothes like a wanton woman? Surely he was jesting.

“Shall I remove it for you?” Stephen asked gently.

When Stephen moved to do just that, Elizabeth scrambled quickly to the other side of the bed. She had no intention of baring her body for this brute of a man. Not now, not ever. A sudden decision struck her and she was no longer concerned about angering him. Let him beat her until her body was covered with bruises. Surely the pain would be less to endure than a repeat of the night before.

Stephen caught the edge of her gown and tugged in an effort to subdue her. He wanted nothing more than to make this night a pleasurable experience for the young exotic beauty before him, but her repulsion of him was not making things easy. He never had to force a woman to bed him.  He found the experience degrading. He was at an absolute loss at what to say or do.

“We must create an heir,” Stephen growled in frustration. Perhaps if he explained the situation to her, she would calm down. “Then, my dear wife, I shall leave you alone.”

Elizabeth stopped short. What was it that she detected in his tone of voice? Could it be that her new husband found this situation just as distasteful as she did? She had not taken into consideration the fact that perhaps Lord Stephen Carlson married her to appease his father and not out of a desire for her. It had not occurred to her that he may have been forced to marry her, like she was forced to marry him. Was that why he drank himself drunk on their wedding night? Was it to block out the fact that he must bed her? Did he find her so undesirable?

Having no mother to confide in and no married friends, Elizabeth was not clear on what really went on between a wife and a husband.  She assumed what she experienced the night before was typical behavior. That being the case, she was not anxious to repeat it. Could it be that he too was reluctant? Had it hurt him like it hurt her? These were things she did not know and had no one to ask. She certainly was not going to ask him.

The thought that the two of them were coupled against their will never entered her mind.  Until now.

Noticing his wife was deep in thought, Stephen took advantage of her unguarded state and reached for her shoulders. His large, weathered, yet well-manicured, hand barely gripped her gown before she spun away, leaving him with a fist full of fabric. As she pulled against his hold, the delicate trimming of her light weight garment tore from its meticulous stitching. He scowled. It was not his intention to ruin yet another gown. What would the servants think? If he kept this up, he would not have to worry about how to get the gown off this breath taking creature for she would have nothing left to don.

In her struggles to release herself from Stephen’s ever increasing grip, Elizabeth unwittingly forced an arousal in him that he could no longer deny. With a goodly amount of brandy coursing through his veins, all sensibility and caution was lost as his body took charge on its own accord. It ignored anything his mind might think that would stop him from fulfilling his needs and desires.

His lips burned against her skin, while he wantonly explored her feminine treasures. Within seconds he regained control of his senses and his love making shifted from that of a heated animal to the soft and sensual caresses of a most adept lover.

Stephen spoke the truth. The experience was not painful for Elizabeth as it was the night before. In fact, his tender ministrations were so wildly enjoyable that she was sure she would lose herself in ecstasy at any moment. Her mind reeled in confusion. Was she supposed to enjoy it like this? Was she expected to respond or should she simply allow him his pleasures like a dutiful wife? She had no idea.

Although Madeleine proved more than efficient when it came to her education on etiquette within society, a wife’s house management duties, and world affairs, not once had she carried on a woman to woman discussion with Elizabeth about husbands and wives and what happened between them behind closed doors. The subject seemed practically taboo. If it was referred to at all, it was with a whisper that crept out from behind her hand. Elizabeth attributed it to the fact that Madeleine never even possessed a beau to kiss, let alone a man to marry.

Accustomed to being on guard so as not to displease the man of the household, Elizabeth decided it was best to remain as still as she could while her husband took his pleasures. She held her breath and closed her eyes as tight as they would close and used every ounce of strength she could find while she struggled to keep her composure in check. It took all her strength to subdue the moans of pleasure that threatened to escape her throat. It would not do to upset him with her selfish wiggling and squealing from this absolutely incredible experience.

The thought of having to remain stoic and stiff while she endured such delightful pleasures for the rest of her life was crushingly sad. Was this her fate? How did wives around the world do this? Those who did received her humble admiration, for she did not think she could possibly bear it night after night. It was no small wonder why so many women encouraged their husbands to take a mistress. Being alone in bed would be far less punishment than the tortures of having to subdue one of the most pleasurable sensations a body could have.

Elizabeth did her best to remove her thoughts from the pleasures of the flesh in hopes it would help her retain her calm demeanor under Stephen’s wildly arousing ministries. In doing so, she found herself recalling the laughter and pleasurable conversation that transpired between the two during the many social engagements they simultaneously attended. She recalled how handsome he looked as he stepped onto the dance floor at Lord Milo’s ball. His deep throated laughter caused shivers of delight up her arms and down her back at the Andersen’s picnic. She recalled how well his muscular thighs rippled when he maneuvered his stallion next to her carriage while outing in the park. He was a handsome and virile man any woman would be overjoyed to claim as hers. Yet he was hers. He was hers and he was here doing the most marvelous things to her body while whispering the most wondrous devotions in her ear. She loved him for it. She loved him for everything. Oh dear, she loved him.

The ecstasy of realizing the truth of her feelings for Lord Stephen Carlson clashed with the knowledge that he married her out of duty and nothing more. She was crushed to the core. She loved a man who did not love her. Yes, he spoke devotions while in the throes of passion, but surely they were simply words in a moment of passion. He made no mention of love outside their coupling. He’d made it perfectly clear that once she gave him a son they would have nothing more to do with each other. What joke of fate? How could God be so cruel? She was a dutiful ward of her uncle and a model young lady to society. She accepted her situation after the death of her parents with grace and dignity. All she desired in return was one thing and one thing only... to be loved. Now, her dreams of that happening were crushed. She was married to a man who did not return her love. She was no fool. She listened to enough conversations to understand that men enjoyed women without loving them. This was certainly what must be happening now.  It was impossible for him not to be enjoying the sensations of their coupling, was it not? He certainly seemed to be enjoying himself.

The situation was just too saddening. Thank goodness her plans to escape with Dr. Jameson were still in the making. Would the doctor come through with a message that all was in order soon? She fervently prayed that it be so.

Feeling Elizabeth’s stiff body beneath him frustrated Stephen even more. After his initial lustful attack on her person, his senses returned and he did his best to show as much tenderness and consideration as he could. It was a difficult task to be sure. The woman’s beauty and appeal was of such to drive the best of men mad. One could not be too harsh on him for his occasional loss of control.

He pulled himself up and looked down on Elizabeth’s slight frame while she lay looking anywhere but at him. She looked so small and vulnerable. Her eyes were dry of tears but filled with what looked be sorrow.  He sensed her mind preoccupied. Did she wish herself away? Did she find being with him that distasteful? Did he sicken her to such an extent that she could not allow her body to relax and enjoy his expert ministries of pleasure? Never had he failed in bringing a woman to the heights of passion, yet it seemed he had failed now... and with his own wife.

Stephen prayed Elizabeth would conceive an heir soon so he would no longer be required to force himself upon her. As beautiful as she was, he found the situation sickening. There were plenty of women wherever he traveled who were willing to throw themselves at him for just one night in his bed. He had no need or desire to keep returning to a woman who recoiled and remained like a piece of wood beneath him, even if she had captured his heart and he thought her to be the most beautiful creature he ever encountered.

Having been summoned by his father to assist with matters of estate after only a few weeks with his passionless bride, Stephen expected to be gone the better part of a fortnight. Although he was remorseful about leaving his young wife so soon without having accomplished the removal of the cold barrier between them, it could not be helped. Their fortune, and the inheritance of their future heir, required his immediate attention.

He questioned the waiting maid selected from his staff by Elizabeth upon the dismissal of Madeleine Hardy after her treason -at least that was how Elizabeth viewed it- about her mistress’s female cycle and learned she was expecting her moon time soon. He would have liked to have continued to lay with her in the night for at least another week to fortify the possibility of producing an heir as well as break through that shell of resistance and get her to realize, understand, accept, and respond to his love. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about it. If he was unsuccessful at begetting her with child already he would simply have to start again when he returned.  At least it would provide him with a greater opportunity to win her over – not to mention additional time making love to her.

His duties at his father’s estate took surprisingly much less time than Stephen anticipated and he found himself returning home after only a few days of absence. Those few days were all it took for his reluctant bride to slip off in the night and disappear. He would have never thought his socially proper Elizabeth capable of doing such a thing. Was the concept of being his bride that reprehensible?

He initially joined in the general panic of the household while they speculated on what could have become of their young mistress, but after questioning Lord Roberts about the possibility of him knowing something of his niece’s whereabouts and discovering that thwarting her original plan to run away was the reason behind their rushed marriage, he quickly realized that the earl’s insistence of an early marriage had not in the least deterred his headstrong niece’s plans. His bride had not been kidnapped or taken against her will. It was clear his beautiful, reluctant wife ran away.

Furious with the earl’s deceitful actions, Stephen commanded he remain silent about what occurred.  He was certain that the man’s pride would keep him so. After all, he was still suffering -in his mind, if nowhere else- from the shame of his sister’s actions so many years ago. Stephen then put on a ruse to the rest of the world.  He claimed his wife longed for time away from the city, so they took up residence in a small cottage his family owned in the upper country and would remain there until she was ready to continue their honeymoon abroad.

People smiled and nodded in agreement about how lucky Lady Elizabeth was to have secured such a loving husband. Few husbands would grant his wife’s every wish like Lord Carlson was doing, even if they were just newlywed.

Fortunately for Stephen, his family was long standing in London society and had strong connections in influential places. It took but a few days to trace Elizabeth’s actions to the doorstep of the Jameson household. After a lengthy, heated, and impending conversation with John Jameson, Stephen was able to learn of the doctor’s scheme to act as Elizabeth’s guardian in exchange for her funding their journey to the emancipated colonies.

John explained to Stephen how he was the eldest brother and the doctor lived on his good graces.  Because of this, the doctor convinced Elizabeth to use her inheritance money to fund their trip. Knowing how naïve Elizabeth was to the ways of the world, Stephen imagined that would not have been too difficult a task. Somehow, the conniving scoundrel also managed to solicit his other brother -who was a lawyer and the trustee to Elizabeth’s inheritance- to release a considerable amount of her inheritance money to them. It mattered not to Stephen that John was uncomfortable with the idea and acted practically against his will. He held the entire Jameson family accountable.

Stephen’s first concern was to find his wayward minx of a bride and bring her home. Once that was completed, this family of scoundrels would be duly dealt with.