Frigid Waters (Ladies of Loomcroft) (9 page)

She turned to her father.  “Papa, you can see the truth, can you not?”

Martin could feel the tears threatening to escape is old eyes.  “Yes, my dear, I can see the truth.  There is naught I can do to change it.  With legal paperwork Mr. Carl Livery has every right to you.  All I can do is cut off your dowry.  It will be waiting for you and Mr. George Livery when you are no longer married to that bottom feeder.”

Carl smiled in victory and walked towards the door.  “I will be waiting in the carriage wife, say your goodbyes and be out directly.”

George gripped her arms.  “Do not go out that door, Bella.  We will figure this out.”

“The runners are already outside,”  she sniffed back tears.

Martin cleared his throat.  “That blackguard can not keep you guarded at all times.  Steal her away, George.  The first chance you get, take my little girl out of there.”

Belladonna straightened her shoulders and walked out the door.  She was so shocked by the change in her life that she could not even cry.  Carl stood beside the carriage and offered her his hand to help her up in, but she did not even glance at him and hoisted herself up into the carriage.

He climbed in behind her.  The sallow yellow look of his skin from too much drink appalled her when he pulled her hand into his.  “You will enjoy being my wife.”  He told her.

Belladonna met his eyes with her own.  Her eyes flashed with green hatred, but her tone was flat.  “To what ends, Carl?  My father will never give you my dowry.”

“Of course he will.  No father would live his daughter without adequate care.”  Carl declared with certainty.

Her look went blank as she paused for a moment.  “Martin Loomcroft did not earn his fortune by throwing blunt away on sentimentality.  He has said he will deny my dowry, which means he will deny my dowry.”

Carl pulled her hard into his lap and almost crushed her ample bosom in his grip.  He forced a harsh kiss on her mouth that almost made her heave.  Belladonna chose at that moment to change tactics.  As much as it turned her stomach to do it she wrapped her arms around Carl's neck and pulled him closer.

He broke the kiss with a cruel smile.  Belladonna could hardly believe that the man could be so deluded as to think she would have enjoyed that kiss.  She was lucky to have retained the contents of her stomach. 

“See, I knew you would come to desire me as a husband.”  He purred. 

She pushed herself of his lap and righted herself in her side of the carriage.  “What is done is done.  That said, kisses is as far as we can go for at least two months.  I do not want any question as to who has fathered my children.  As I have lain with George, if we do not wait then I will never be sure.”

“One month would be time enough.”  Carl reasoned.

Belladonna did her best to pout.  “Do you wish me to look into my child's eyes and debate as to whether I am seeing your eyes or George's looking back at me?”

“I will grant you a two month reprieve from your wifely duties.”  He agreed.

Two months.  That was time enough to be rescued.  She was sure of it.  The wheels in her head started to turn.  If she was going to be forced to stay with this man for as long as two months then she would make good use of that time.  Then she would make him regret ever crossing her.  George could finish off the scraps of what was left of his brother when she was done.

Chapter 6

Belladonna woke early the next morning, dressed a
nd hurried downstairs to make her 'husband' tea.  She smiled as she pulled the chasteberry out of the cupboard.  She fixed herself a cup of tea and then prepared an entire pot for Carl. 

She couldn't help but laugh as she crushed six full spoonfuls of the substance and dumped it soundly Carl's tea pot.  She forced herself to be solemn, quiet, and calm as she walked the tea up to Carl's study.  To her surprise her father-in-law was in the room with him.

She curtsied to the two men.  “I must apologize.  I thought you might enjoy a spot of tea.  I was unaware we had guests.”

The old man pointed at the desk.  “Put it there girl, then go.”

Belladonna nodded and did as he asked and then turned to go.  Just as she turned the Earl's old hand solidly gripped on of her buttocks.  Her face burned and she looked to Carl, who instead of looking outraged, looked quite satisfied with himself.

“She has nice wide hips.  Perfect for childbirth.  You may have this one for some time.”  The old man commented before freeing her.

Belladonna did not listen to the crass conversation, but made her escape thru the door.  Once outside she fumed.  She would have been angrier, but the first move had already been set into play.  It took her most of the night to find the correct herb she need in the library, but she was certain Carl would despair at her surprise.

She wouldn't stoop to murder, but deep down she suspected her plan would result in humiliation so encompassing that Carl would wish for death.  Smiling, she tucked the rest of the bottle of chasteberry into the hem of her dress.

Meanwhile, across town George paced Martin Loomcroft's study.  “How could we just let her go like that?”  He asked the older man.

Martin's strained voiced replied as he tapped his desk.  “You know the answer to that as well as I, Mr. Livery.  We had no legal right to keep her.”

George felt sick to his stomach.  He finally collapsed in the chair across from Martin.  “How do we fix this?  If he touches her...”  His hands instinctively clenched into fists at the thought of his brother touching Belladonna.

Martin shrugged.  “Of all my children Belladonna has always been the best at freezing people out.  I am sure she will be able to keep the cad at bay.  That said, I would also prefer we work quickly.”

George shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  “What can be done in the House of Lords?”

Martin looked at the young man with interest.  “Well, anything that I do, son, can only be enhanced by your own actions.  As you know I am not actually a member of the House and can only call upon its members outside the chamber.”

“Consider my aid a given.”  George assured him.

The two men went to work hatching a plan to get Belladonna back.

###

Carl Livery downed another brandy as he sat with his father in an gentleman’s club.  It was not a gentleman’s club of note, but a little hole in the wall that the Earl of Riverton and he frequented.  They were both in a sour mood as they drown themselves in alcohol.

“We should be drinking in White's tonight.  We are no longer the poor relations of the ton.  My marriage to the Loomcroft girl brought us more than enough blunt.”  Carl complained.

The Earl growled.  “Too bad we have yet to see a shilling of it.”

“Her father would not leave her destitute.  I am sure of it.”  Carl hedged.

“Would he not?”  The Earl mused.  “The woman is positively frigid.  Tell me, son, do you have a choice of madam tonight?”

“Allana.”  Carl replied with a smile.  “She is sure to bring far more warmth to my bed than my wife ever will.”

“To be sure.”  The Earl added.  “The deed must still be done with the Loomcroft girl, though.”

Carl nodded.  “Yes, but as she pointed out.  If I bed her at all in the first two months we'll always question who fathered the brats.  It is no sacrifice to wait.”

His father nodded again.  “To be sure.  George solved the problem of her virginity.”  Taking another swig of his brandy he waved Carl off.  “Off with you then, warm your loins and enjoy yourself.”

Carl smiled rakishly and sauntered off to the room where Allana was waiting.  The beautiful blond had a slight, limber body that she regular put to good use for him.  She laid herself out seductively on the bed provided for her by the establishment.

He had his tastes and Allana knew them intimately.  She approached him slowly and asked, “May I service you, Lord Livery?”

Yes, he like his women docile and well put in their place.  His wife just took it to the extreme.  “You may, Alanna.”

The woman dropped to her knees and released his member from the confines of his trousers.  She took him in her mouth and massaged him with her fingers.  Carl had always been a man to quick satisfaction, but it took almost a full turn of the clock to prepare him for her.

He blushed in embarrassment.  “Allana, I know not what has come over me.  I am sure once the deed is being done I will do better.”  He did not sound the least bit confident, but he had never failed to pay her his blunt so she continued.

She laid back on the bed and spread herself wide.  “Please, Lord Livery, do as you will with me.”  Allana hated pretending to be at his will, but he did pay well.

Carl entered her and soon went flaccid inside her.  In embarrassment he scrambled off of the bed and dressed quickly.  As he made for the door Allana called after him.  “Carl Livery, you have forgotten to pay!”

He had the decency not to accuse her of her failings, but only just.  Carl walked out of the gentleman's club and made for home.  Once thru the door he found his wife in the library reading.  Belladonna immediately got up and curtsied to him.  “Welcome home, husband.”

Belladonna bit back a sick feeling as she laid her hand gently on his forehead.  “Are you ill?  Perhaps I could get you a spot of tea, it may make you feel better.”  Her actions and words would indicate concern, but the infuriatingly neutral tone of her voice was like salt in Carl's wounds.

Carl snarled at her, but not sound emerged from his twisted face for a few moments.  “All of my ills could be cured by bedding my wife.”

She pouted her lips and patted his arm, but her tone did not change.  “I do wish we could do such a thing, but would you really risk raising George's son as your own?”

“No!”  Carl almost yelled.  She stood expectantly awaiting his order—the kind of wife he had always wanted.  He hated it.  “Get the damn tea, Belladonna.”

Belladonna smiled as she made the tea in the kitchen.  A full week of chasteberry in the tea seemed to be having an effect.  Each day he returned from his club earlier than the last.  By the time the two months were up he'd be fully impotent. 

After emptying more of the substance in the pot she went to pick up the carrier and take it upstairs.  Before she could raise the tray off of the table a sudden attack of nausea came over her.  She rushed out of the kitchen and emptied the contents of her stomach on the ground.

Wiping the back of her mouth with her hand she straightened with as much dignity as she could.  Belladonna could not think of what she had eaten that had not agreed with her, but she hoped the illness would pass with only one attack.  She walked back in and picked up the tray.

She carried it upstairs and stood by demurely as Carl drank each cup she poured.  Taking a deep breath she spoke as softly as she could in her neutral tone.  “Husband, I would like to invite a number of duchesses to tea.  I fear I only have a few dresses though.  Could...could I possibly have a few more made?”

Carl looked her up and down.  She was right, she didn't have even enough dresses to go to town more than once a week.  That suited Carl fine, but the social connections that having duchesses for friends would bring would be worth it.  Carl nodded.  “I will instruct our carriage driver to take you to the modiste tomorrow.”

“Thank you, husband.”  She mumbled.  There was a small sparkle in her eyes despite her tone.  Carl felt warm just from the look.  He hoped it would always be so easy to please her.

“Just be sure to get what you need.”  Carl chided her.  “I do not wish to speak of dresses again for some time.”

“Of course, husband.”  She actually smiled at him and his heart almost stopped.  For once, Carl could see what George saw in the woman.  She could be impassible in her cold, but when she chose to show her warm side it was as blinding as daylight. 

Carl sipped the tea for the next hour, praying she would smiled at him again.

###

Martin Loomcroft worked fast for a man not actually in the House of Lords.  By the time a week had passed he had already expressed his daughter's plight to nearly have of the members of the House of Lords.  Their stance generally was the same.  The men pitied their situation, but felt nothing could be done.

Martin continually pressed them, but they would not budge.  George was not so settle.  He made it clear to each man he spoke that his fortune was of little consequence and their fortunes were of even less value in comparison to regaining his bride.

On the afternoon of the seventh day he sat with Martin at a table in White's.  No less than six Lords surrounded the card table.  Martin tried as diplomatically as he could to explain the situation.

“My daughter is a bit headstrong, but she made a good choice.  George Livery is a man I would wish for a son, but his brother is detestable.  The man actually forged marriage documents.  Now he has my daughter and is doing who knows what with her.  I was hoping one of you fine gentlemen would have an idea as to how to resolve the situation.”

Lord Pemberly piped up from behind his cards.  “Seems to me there is naught to resolve, Martin.  You wanted the chit married and now she's married.”

Lord Weselton also leaned back against the chair.  “It has been over a week, has it not?  Getting an annulment would require the moving of heaven and earth.”

Martin sighed.  “Yes, but does not the House of Lords have some pull with the church?”

“None that we would use to free a woman from a lawful marriage.”  Lord Camden said harshly.

“Why not?”  George asked flatly.

“It is just not done.  The girl is properly wed.”  Another lord piped in.

“Yes, she is—to me.”  George emphasized with a scowl.  “You are all cowards who do not give a bloody care about this since it does not harm you directly.”

Lord Camden shifted uncomfortably behind his cards.  “Now, that's not the case...”

George slammed his cards down on the table and stood.  “You all have interests in the new railroads and in shipping.  Not one of your companies will receive even one more board from my lumberyards until my wife is safely at home!  Now, gentlemen, decide.  Is the future of your businesses worth crossing a money strapped lord like my father?”

He did not wait for a reply, but simply stormed out of White's.  George knew he'd never be welcomed in the establishment again.  He really could not care if he would ever be welcomed in London again.  He wanted his wife and he would have her, one way or another.