Read A Bride for Lord Esher Online

Authors: P J Perryman

Tags: #Historical Romance, #cane, #marriage, #spanking

A Bride for Lord Esher (2 page)

BOOK: A Bride for Lord Esher
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“Ow!”

Instead of the kiss he had hoped for, Chastity planted a well-timed knee into his half-swollen member. The young lord fell to the hay-strewn floor in agony. The door slammed again as she ran from the room and up a flight of stairs, and this time the laughter from the customers was directed at him, and not at her.

When at last Esher was able to get to his feet, he found Tom Warren chuckling into a fresh tankard of ale. “Well played, that young lady,” he laughed. “Who would have thought Lord Esher, who only has to look at a woman to get her on her back, would be bested by a simple tavern wench. Landlord, more ale if you please.”

The innkeeper served them sheepishly, leaving a huge jug on their table. He kept his head bowed and disappeared as soon as he could. Tom Warren stared after him thoughtfully. A dark and mischievous shadow flitted across his eyes.

“Never mind, Esher, you can’t win ‘em all. Drown your sorrows in a tankard of this fine ale. I’ll be back shortly, for I have something to discuss with the landlord in private.”

Robert Esher nodded dully and drank his ale faster than he usually did. When Tom returned, the youthful gentlemen continued to drink, ordering more ale than was good for them. Only when their funds were depleted did Tom Warren stumble from the table and pull both his companions to their feet.

“Come, let’s get Ashworth here home, or a bride will be bereft of a groom come the morrow. There is a wedding we cannot miss.”

Lord Esher’s eyes were near closing, but he managed to stand up and carry some of the unconscious groom’s weight. The three men lunged forward, casting the tavern doors open, and soon disappeared into the night.

 

 

 

CHASTITY’S UNDOING

 

Perhaps not as grandiose as in former days, Lord Esher’s manor was still a spectacle to behold. The estate covered over a hundred acres and his tenant farmers reputedly grew the best barley in Surrey. The young nobleman had worked hard to return the property to something of its former status, and the young lord had done much to clear the debts of his deceased father.

Robert Esher knew his friends well. Expecting to be the worse for wear after their drinking bout, he had given orders to be woken early the next morning regardless of the state he arrived home in. Though Tom Warren acted as groomsman, Esher wouldn’t miss the union of his sister to his friend for anything in the world. Yet it was not the world that presented the issue in the morning.

As the rooster crowed, the long drapes of his bedchamber were wrenched apart, and the light poured into the room. Robert had been facing the windows, his eyes covered to protect them from the sudden brightness. A wave of nausea hit him, and he fell into a wasted slump on the crumpled sheets.

“What time is it?” he slurred. He vaguely remembered something about a wedding, cognizance returned slowly to his head today, which felt very dull and heavy. He tried to rise, but the effort made him giddy. Still, he was conscious enough to know his question had not been answered, and this struck him as odd. He was a man used to being obeyed.

“Did you hear me, man? What time is it?”

Yates, his valet, was slow to answer, and there was hesitation in his voice. “Umm, it’s early, my lord.”

There was something about the man’s tone that penetrated the dull fog of Esher’s brain. With a great effort, he forced himself up on an elbow, ignoring the nausea and giddiness, and let out a great groan as if trying to dispel his bile into the air.

Perhaps the morning light deceived him, for he thought he saw a shape sitting in the corner of the room, cloaked in its shadows.
Is that a woman
?

Even as he had this thought,
Yates, who normally tarried to get his master ready for the business of the day, slipped quietly from the room. Nothing could have been more sobering than the shock of seeing a stranger there. He was also very conscious that he needed to urinate. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and reached for the piss-pot Yates had conveniently left
for him on the table.

“Who the hell are you?” he said. Unabashed, if intrigued by the complete stranger in his bedchamber, Robert Esher began to relieve himself into the pot. His eyes rolled with the joy of release. But then he almost dropped the pot on the rug when the maid replied.

“I am Chastity, sir. Your wife.”

A moment later, Robert was laughing. “Ah, I remember you now. You’re the tavern wench from last night’s bingeing. What mischief is Tom Warren playing on me now? Are you here to tumble with me at last or do you mean to continue the humiliation of last night?”

He chuckled, Tom was a rascal who had always liked a good joke, but this may be his best yet. Yet the girl seemed peculiarly un-amused for a co-prankster. He raised his eyebrows and studied her a little more closely. “Come, what mischief is this? I’ll be happy to take a roll with you on the bed sheets, though alas, you may not find me at my best this morning. Come here, girl, I have business in London this morning and we don’t have much time.”

The girl remained resolutely still on her chair. “I’d rather not, thanks.”

“But we are husband and wife, are we not? Come, at least sit by me, we can talk a little while and get to know each other better.”

He patted the space in front of him, but still the girl did not move. The joke was wearing a little thin.

“Come now, wench, I do not have all day. Come and pleasure me, or if you dare not, then leave for I’m a busy man.”

Chastity looked down into her hands which were folded on her lap. A small tear trickled down the side of her face. “I cannot leave, for we are married, and I am bound to stay.”

Robert laughed again, but this time his voice faltered a little. He wished his memory was not so dim this morning. “Enough is enough. You have played your part well, madam, but the time has come to end this folly.”

“I tell you, we are married. Your friend paid my father ten golden guineas, and we were taken to a minister and we made our vows before him. And I think my father was happy to have me off his hands if the truth be told. He said I was less cut out for inn work than a nun, and said absolutely, no matter what happens, I’m to stay with you.”

Robert Esher looked aghast. “What nonsense… you jest with me, surely.”

“You’ll find the truth of it all in the parish records. Mr. Warren told me to send you there if you had any doubts about what happened. He said you probably would have. He bade me to tell you to check it all before or after your sister’s wedding. The same minister is to wed her this day. He can vouch for the truth of it.”

Esher’s hand rose to cover his eyes. Tom Warren had always been a bit of a rascal, but this was way beyond his usual folly. Had the rogue really gone and saddled him with a tavern wench wife? There was a fresh decanter of wine by the bed, and he poured himself a glass. His mouth tasted foul, and his tongue was coated in some god-awful evil. He swilled the drink round and round and spit the excess in the bowl left just for that purpose.

“Well, if what you say is indeed true, we must to church as soon as possible and get the damned thing annulled. We can say non consummation or some such excuse.”

At this, Chastity burst into tears. “Too late,” she wailed. “You took my virtue last night. My fate is bound to yours now, there’s nothing to be done.”

“Nonsense.”

Yet Robert instinctively looked down at his nightgown, and there was a small patch of blood on the fabric. Horrified, he turned to look at the sheets, and pulled them roughly back off the bed. Sure enough, the truth of the loss of her maidenhead was clearly written on the mattress.

“We coupled?”

“Yes. You were very impatient. You didn’t even let me undress.”

In different circumstances, Lord Robert may have been a little apologetic for his rough handling of a virgin, but in this instance his panic overwhelmed him. He couldn’t recall a single moment of it, and worse, destiny had saddled him with a most unsuitable wife.

“Then we are married?” Though he repeated the words over and over, he still could not believe it.

“We are.”

For the first time he really looked at Chastity. He noticed a tear in her bodice that hadn’t been there the day before. At least, he was pretty sure it hadn’t been.
And was that a bruise on her cheek
? Still, it wouldn’t be the first time he had rough-handled a wench. Yet last night he had thought her uncommonly pretty, and this morning, well, she was now his wife….

“Come here.”

“Why?”

“I am not in the habit of explaining myself to subordinates, and I’ve no plans to start now.”

Ever so timidly, Chastity rose from her seat and stepped a little closer. He could see she was trembling. Clearly their coupling last night had not endeared him to her. She was in no hurry to resume their intimacy again. Still, he would take her now, then march her to the church and have this nonsense undone. He was intoxicated beyond reason last night. Surely the law would have provision to undo such things? He did not share these thoughts with his wife. Robert had other plans for Chastity.

“Come closer,
wife
.”

Chastity stood directly in front of him. He could smell her, though she was not powdered or scented like some of the well-bred ladies and whores he had dallied with. But she certainly smelled good. He could discern the aroma of spilled beers, yet there was also the smoky echo of a homey hearth that pleased him. With a tenderness that seemed to unsettle her, he put his hand up to her bruised cheek.

“Did I do that?”

“No sir. My father did it when I refused to go with your friends.”

“Does he often hit you?”

“No sir. I don’t think he’s ever hit me before. The money your friend offered must have got the better of him.”

“I’m sorry. Turn around.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to inspect you,” he answered, as if she should have already known.

Thread by thread he unlaced the top of her bodice, revealing her simple shift beneath. Over many years he’s become adept at removing skirts and petticoats, and these too were quickly abandoned. Reduced to a bare shift, he turned Chastity around so she faced him. Her eyes betrayed her distaste for his handling of her and the look did not please him.

“You will never give me that look again, wife, is that clear? I ask obedience in all things.” He pulled her close, so close her breast hovered just by his lips. He brushed aside the open fabric of her garment and kissed her tenderly. Her nipple was hard and pert, and as he suckled her he looked up to see how she reacted. He expected defiance, but was surprised and pleased to see Chastity’s eyes closed in pleasure.

“As my wife, you will address me as sir, or as Lord Robert. In public you must address me as Lord Esher. You will not shame me with your commoner ways, do you understand, Chastity?”

“Yes.”

Robert kissed her again.

“Yes
sir
.”

“Very good.”

Esher turned her about to admire the shape of Chastity’s backside. It was well-formed and rounded, with a small dimple in her left cheek that simply fascinated him. He ran his hand over her milky-white skin. The plump fullness of her youthful body excited him, and he reveled in his mastery.

“You say you were untouched when I took you, that you have never had a man inside you before?”

“No. No sir. I was saving myself for a husband.”

“Ah, well.”

Robert turned her about once again. “Well then, let’s see what my friend’s guineas have purchased in a wife.” He raised his hands to her shoulders and pulled the shift down. It caught her breasts, but with a final tug it fell in loose folds on the rug beneath her feet. Instinctively, Chastity tried to cover her nakedness but Robert slapped her hands away.

“Never hide from me that which is mine,” he demanded. He put his hands on her hips, and pulled her closer to his body. Her exposed breasts were full, perhaps a little large for her tiny frame, but they were well shaped, and the large pink nipples were inviting. He took them both in the palms of his hands and massaged them and coercing her nipples to a tight point before bringing them back to his lips.

Perhaps he was kissing them a little hard, for she cried out and pulled back, but he held her fast, enjoying her sweet flesh and feeling his own manhood rise in appreciation.

When the mood was upon him he pushed her onto the bed, and opened her legs wide so he could inspect her below. He disliked hairy women, and was relieved to see this one was only lightly favored.

Robert discarded his own night shirt, and with neither tenderness nor consideration he entered her body. Yet even as he took his pleasure from her, he noticed her eyes never left his and her legs clasped tightly around him, while her arms held him close.
Is she trying to give me pleasure
? She felt sweet beneath him, and though he would undo what needed to be undone, he hoped that when he truly married, his
real
wife would present as good a fit.

When at last he was spent, he pulled away and took another unceremonious swig of the wine and rinsed his mouth.

“I have a wedding to get to. Go to the kitchens and eat what you will. When I return I will have sorted this business out and will see you safely back with your father.”

“But my lord, sir, he will not have me back, and you and I are now married. You cannot just throw me into the gutter. I am happy for you to use me at your will, it is my duty as a wife, but send me back and I will die of shame.”

“The gutter was good enough for you yesterday. What has changed?”

Forlorn, Chastity turned and wept into the soiled sheets. “What will become of me now,” she cried. “What decent man will have me if you cast me aside?”

Something in her tone touched his heart, albeit briefly. “Come now, you need not tell anyone. You’ll be as good as you were yesterday. No one need know you virtue has been compromised.”

“But I will know,” she said.

“Foolish.”

Robert put his head outside the door where his valet waited patiently for his command. “Yates, find something suitable for this girl to wear, her dress was… well, an unfortunate accident…. Then come and dress me. I must eat then be away to this damned wedding.”

BOOK: A Bride for Lord Esher
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