Indecent: 15 Erotic Victorian Romance Story Box Set (6 page)

Chapter 6

Elizabeth woke up alone. She sat up in bed and looked around
but Jim was nowhere to be found. Dressing quickly she walked outside but the
only signs of life were a few wandering sheep. There was no note and no sign of
him. Loved you and left you, she thought as she made her way back to Roseneath.
Perhaps that’s for the best. You can return home now the sale is arranged and
an unhappy marriage is waiting patiently for you there.

Packing the few things she had removed from her bags, she
found herself continually glancing up at the door as if expecting him to appear
at any moment. When a knock came she ran outside to the crushing sight of a
carriage and driver. “I’ve been sent to collect you,” the gruff man said.
“Luggage?”

“Here,” she replied, pointing behind her. Had the agent
arranged her return? The entire journey up the hillside, she looked around for
any sign of Jim but by the time she left Yorkshire, hope had left her. She sat
in dull misery for the entire duration, not stirring from her stupor even as
her home came into view days later. Climbing down from the carriage she noticed
three people stood on the doorstep, her parents and Richard.

“Great news,” Richard said, marching towards her. “Your
parents have accepted my marriage proposal. Isn’t it wonderful?”

She allowed herself to be led into the house, muttering
greetings whilst a tumult of activity went on around her, the papers regarding
her aunt poured over by her parents. “You did well,” her father said, setting
his hand on her shoulder. “Although I have no doubt you are glad to be home at
last.”

“Yes father,” she replied quietly. “There’s nothing left for
me back in Yorkshire after all.”

“What’s that my dear?”

“Oh nothing.”

“A letter came for you whilst you were away. Where is it
now?” He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a cream envelope, passing it to
her.

“Who on earth could be writing to me?” she muttered to
herself as she tore open the letter and read the contents.

I am sorry to trouble you but the party who wishes to
purchase Roseneath has insisted you complete the sale in person. Please come as
promptly as you can.”

“Who’s it from?” her mother asked.

She passed over the letter and it was read by her parents
and Richard in turn. “You must go back,” her father said.

“Must I? Can I not stay here?”

“You will be home soon enough and this time for good,”
Richard said. “Once married you shall remain forever by my side. Travelling is
no good for wives.”

In a daze, Elizabeth watched as her cases were loaded back
onto a fresh coach and horses. She had barely said goodbye when the wheels
began to turn and she was moving once more, enduring a miserable journey back
to the seat of her misfortune.

When she arrived at Roseneath she found the agent waiting
for her. “Let’s get this over with,” she sighed. “I have no interest in
remaining here any longer than is strictly necessary.”

“Are you sure about that?” said a voice from the doorway.

Looking past the agent she saw a figure emerge and
recognised it as Jim. His face was mottled with fading bruises and she gasped
at the sight of his injuries. “What happened?” she asked, concern overriding
her shock at seeing him once more.

“Come inside and I’ll explain.”

She followed him in, finding deeds of sale spread across the
table. He winced as he lowered himself into the armchair by the fire. “I awoke
during the night to the sound of voices outside the cottage,” he said as she
sat down opposite him.

“Who were they?”

“Poachers. I ran out but there were more of them than I
expected. We had a disagreement over ownership of my sheep.”

“A disagreement?”

I chased them for a while but they tricked me, caught me the
other side of a wall and did this,” he pointed to his face. “I was lucky I was
found the next morning and taken to the big house. By the time I woke up you’d
already left.”

“I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth said, her hands beginning to
shake. “I had no idea.”

“Luckily George was willing to send you a letter whilst I
recovered.”

She turned to the agent who merely inclined his head from
the doorway.

“Wait,” Elizabeth said. “You mean you’re buying the cottage?”

“I am.”

“But why? How on earth can you afford it? You’re only a
gatekeeper aren’t you?”

“He’s no gatekeeper miss,” George said, walking over to the
deeds of sale and gathering them together. “This is Duke James Franklin of
Franklin Manor.”

“Where?”

“The big house,” Jim said. “It’s mine.”

“What are you talking about? But you live in the
gatekeeper’s cottage.”

“I have done ever since my wife died. I couldn’t face being
in that old place on my own. I moved into the cottage four years ago and I’ve
been there ever since.”

“But why are you buying Roseneath then?”

“For you of course.”

“What?”

“I wish for you to come and live here.”

She leapt out of her chair and threw her arms around him.
“I’m sorry,” she said as he winced. “You must be in such pain.”

“Nothing compared to thinking I was losing you.” He turned
to the agent. “If the deeds are completed George, you may make the necessary
arrangements.”

“Good day to you both,” George replied, inclining his head
again before leaving the two of them alone, leaving with the papers bundled
under his arm.

“My parents wish me to marry another man,” she said after a
moment’s silence.

“Do you wish to marry him?”

“No.”

“Then perhaps you would consider marrying another man.”

“Who did you have in mind?” she smiled, sitting on his lap
and running her finger down his chest. “I suppose if you’re injured, you
shouldn’t indulge in anything too strenuous.”

“My doctor insists I rest.”

“Come and rest then,” she replied, taking his hand and
leading him over to the bed. Laying him down on his back, she kissed her way
down his chest, undoing each button in turn until his stomach was visible. She
kissed each bruise softly whilst slowly undoing his trousers. She pulled out
his cock and took it straight into her mouth, feeling it harden on her tongue
whilst he ran his fingers through her hair. As she sucked him, her mind
whirled. Live here forever? What would her parents think? What would Richard
think? The taste of a drop of salty liquid on her tongue set all questions
tumbling away from her, replaced by an urgent need to feel Jim inside her.

Lifting her dress to her hips, she pulled her knickers to
one side and sank onto him, guiding his cock into her, moaning loudly as it
filled her to capacity. She ground down on him as he sighed happily. “I thought
I might never see you again,” she said. “I thought you didn’t want me.”

“I want nothing else,” he replied, taking hold of her hips
and being to thrust gently up into her. She leaned down until she was laid on
top of him, rocking against his body as she felt him twitch inside her. “Apart
from this,” he added, pushing her from him. He set her on all fours and threw
her dress up over her back, exposing her body to his gaze. He yanked down her
knickers and thrust deep into her in a single movement, his hand reaching under
to toy with her clit.

As he thrust deep into her, she began to pant heavily, her
muscles turning rigid, his hand expertly bringing her to climax a minute later.
As she came she shoved herself back onto him, loving the feel of her contractions
around his cock. He continued to thrust into her as she came, moving ever
faster until with a loud grunt, his cock spasmed in her pussy and she felt a
spurt of cum spraying inside her. He thrust a final time and a second jet of
spunk gushed out as he slowly withdrew.

Collapsing side by side on the bed, he turned and kissed
her, stroking her hair gently. “I’m glad you came back,” he said, planting a
soft kiss on her cheek.

“So am I,” she replied, smiling broadly. “So am I.”

My Master

Chapter 1

On my eighteenth birthday, I lost
three things, my parents, my home, and my innocence. I was taken away by a
brute of a man and as the carriage rattled along the rutted track onto the
moor, I wept the first of many tears Lord Darlington was to cause me that day.

My childhood was idyllic, my earliest years spent in the
Caribbean, watching the men work at the cane and the ships sail in and out of
the harbour. I used to dream of travelling on one of those ships in my childish
fancies. Sometimes I was a bloodthirsty buccaneer, sailing the seven seas in
search of booty. Other times I was heading to England, a place I’d been told
about by mama’s serving girls. It sounded like a land of beauty unsurpassed.
The reality of course was quite different as I found out on the day I turned
twelve. I was awoken in the middle of the night by my father. He stood with a
candle over my bed, peering down at me and calling out my name.

“Isabella, Isabella, wake up,” he said. I sat up in a daze,
the worry in his voice upsetting me. I’d never seen my father like this, his
eyes wide, sweat beading on his brow.

“What is it father?” I asked, yawning loudly.

“You must pack and quickly. The boat leaves in an hour and
we must be on it or all is lost.”

“What? What is the matter?”

He didn’t reply. Instead he turned away and called for my
bag. A servant brought in an empty suitcase and laid it out on the bed. “Help
her pack,” my father said. “Make haste and there’ll be a guinea in it for you.”

“Yes sir,” the servant said in a voice I recognised.

As my father left in a hurry, I climbed out of bed in time
to see it was Leonard left alone with me. He’d always doted on me since my
earliest days, bringing me sweetmeats, nursing me through the fevers that
seemed to seek me out each summer. He did not work at night though, something
was serious if he was awake at this hour.

“What’s going on Leonard?” I asked as I assisted him in
packing my favourite dresses. “Are we in danger?”

“I know not miss.”

“You must know something!”

“All I know is that your father has never made any decision
without good reason. Now there isn’t room for all of these dolls. You must
choose your favourite.”

It seems ridiculous now, looking back through the years but
at the time I was most distraught at leaving behind my doll collection. I took
Jemima and Edwina with her blonde curls, bidding the others farewell whilst
Leonard dragged my case down the stairs into our cavernous hallway. My father
yelled up at me to hurry, cursing loudly, something I’d never heard escape his
lips before.

In ten minutes we were marching through the night down to
the harbour, the only sound that of my laboured breathing. Behind me I heard
the swift approach of echoing footsteps and glanced back in time to see my
mother running to catch us up, a case in each hand. “Mother!” I called back to
her.

“Come on!” father snapped, grabbing my hand and almost
breaking into a run. I stumbled after him, my shoe falling from my right foot
as we reached the harbour. “Leave it,” he yelled as I reached down. “We will
buy more in England.”

“We’re going to England?” I asked, excitement bubbling up
inside me despite my fear.

“Only if he doesn’t catch up with us.”

We reached a ship that was filled with men making ready in
silence. As the moon disappeared behind a cloud, the night was plunged into
black and I almost fell from the gangplank as I was dragged onboard. My father
stopped by a man in a tricorn hat and whispered in his ear. He nodded back and
ran off.

“Come on,” father said, vanishing down a set of steps into
the bowels of the ship. “We must remain hidden until we are away from shore.”

I followed him down the steps until finally he stopped,
sitting on a long bench by a dangling lantern, my mother settling beside him.
Around us the ship creaked loudly. “What’s happening?” I asked, glancing around
me.

“We set sail,” my father replied, a hint of relief within
his voice. “We are safe.”

At that moment a voice boomed out from the harbour. “George
Mulhoon!”

Father sat bolt upright, the hand holding mine crushing my
fingers. “Father, you’re hurting me,” I whined but he ignored me. The voice
outside called out again.

“I shall have what you promised me!” the voice cried. “Run
as far as you like but you will not outrun your debt to me!”

Father stared ahead of him, his face coated in sweat. It was
a long time before he loosened his grip on my fingers. “Who was that?” I asked.

“It does not matter,” he replied. “We will never see him
again.”

How wrong he was.

The tension seemed to leave father the longer we sailed and
by the time we reached England he was back to his old self again although he
steadfastly refused to discuss the reasons for our late night flit from our
home.

We settled, after a week in London, far north in a quiet village,
taking possession of an estate which had been empty for some time. I was taught
to always refer to us as the Callaghan family, never to mention the surname
Mulhoon again. “That name is dead and gone,” father said as he knelt before me
staring into my eyes. “Forget it ever existed.”

And I did until the day of my eighteenth birthday. I awoke
on that morning aware only that at last I was a woman in the eyes of society
after so long being treated like a child. I descended the stairs to the dining
room but instead of my parents sat in their usual seats there was only a dour
looking man in a black cape and top hat. He was filling a long pipe as I
entered but he set it down at the sight of me. “Isabella,” he said in a voice
so deep it made me shudder with fear. “Won’t you sit down?”

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Where are my
parents?”

“Gone,” he replied, lighting his pipe and puffing purplish
smoke into the air. The scent of cherry reached my nostrils a moment later.

“What do you mean gone?”

“My, you do ask a lot of questions. When you are my wife,
you shall ask no questions by the deuce.”

“Your wife? What on earth are you talking about?”

He sat upright and fixed his gaze on me. I cowered back at
the sight. His brow was furrowed over the dark pits sunken into his face, more
like scars than eyes. His lips were drained of colour, pinched and tight as he
bared his teeth. If he had growled like a dog at that very moment I would not
have been surprised. “Sit,” he said, pointing at the chair opposite him.

I sat, my hands under my legs to keep him from seeing how
much my fingers were shaking. He continued to stare at me for some time before
finally setting down his pipe once more.

“Who are you?” I asked at last, unable to bear the silence
any longer.

“My name is Richard Darlington and you were betrothed to me
before I was born.”

“What?”

“What do you know of Tortuga?”

“It was a lawless place.”

“That it was,” he replied, a flicker of a smile crossing his
lips. “Gave me this.” He threw off his cape and pulled back the sleeve of his
shirt to reveal a long snaking scar that curved from his wrist to his elbow.
“Or should I say, your father gave me this when I first met him in Tortuga.”

My hand went to my mouth, the sight of the scar repulsing me
as much as his clear enjoyment of my discomfort. “Please,” I muttered. “Put it
away.”

“Does it make you nauseous to see what your father did to
me?”

I nodded. He laughed, the sound drained of all joy.

“Please sir. I beg you.”

“That’s good,” he replied, pushing down his sleeve. “You
will beg me for many more things before our wedding day.”

“Why do you speak of marriage?” I asked. “I have no interest
in marrying one such as you.”

“What interests you is of no consequence. What is of
consequence however is your behaviour. You are eighteen today are you not?”

“Yes sir.”

“And yet you act as if you were a dozen years younger. You
sit here squealing and whining like a child. Still, you will soon learn how to
deport yourself correctly.”

I stood up, unable to take this any longer. I turned to
leave. The next thing I knew, his hand was on my shoulder, taking hold of me in
an iron grip. He spun me round to face him. “You will leave when I allow it and
not before,” he snarled, pressing his face to mine, his lips almost touching my
own. I recoiled backwards but he would not let me go, throwing me back into my
chair. “Move again and you will regret it long after your bruises fade,” he
said, returning to his seat and taking up his pipe once more. He relit it as he
continued whilst I rubbed my shoulder to relieve the pain he had caused.

“Your father and I were pirates together,” he continued as
if the interruption had not taken place.

“You lie!”

“Believe what you like,” he shrugged. “Though did it never
occur to you to wonder where your wealth came from?”

“Father told me it was inherited.”

“A great many things he told you were fallacious. I suspect
he never told you how he ran away from the King’s navy and found his way to Tortuga.
I caught him stealing my pocket watch and we fought in a tavern there. He gave
me my scar and I gave him something in return.” He was silent for a moment,
rubbing his arm as if lost in thought. “Those were good years, the two of us
were unstoppable,” he continued, his voice lower than before, his gaze fixed on
the smouldering embers of his pipe. “We burned the ocean with the flame of our
greed.” He blinked as if returning to himself, looking up at me once more.
“Then he met your mother and everything changed.”

“My mother?”

“Wanted to become a law abiding decent citizen of the
Empire. Wanted to commence a new life with her. Fell in love.” The last three
words were said slowly, as if each were dripping with poison. The sneer on his
face sent a squall through the pit of my stomach. He looked inhuman. “There was
only one problem,” he continued. “He’d gambled away all his money. Do you know
what he did next?”

I shook my head.

“He begged me to lend him the funds, promised me he would
repay in no time at all. In a year he’d a larger plantation than any of his
neighbours and yet he did not repay a single penny to me. He pleaded for a
little more time. I gave him another year. He built the house you were born in
instead of repaying me. I was…displeased.

“We came to a gentleman’s agreement. He would repay me in a
decade or he would hand me his daughter.”

“My goodness,” I muttered, a wave of dizziness washing over
me.

“I waited patiently for ten years and when not a single
penny was forthcoming in that time, I came to collect. Instead I found an empty
house and a ship leaving the harbour. It took me many years to track you down
and now it is time to collect the debt.”

“What have you done with father?”

“Not a thing. He got word I was coming and left with your
mother, leaving you at my mercy and there is something delicious about that
gesture, do you know why?”

I shook my head.

“He knows I have no mercy.”