***FTIZ POV*** After she leaves, I simply watch the sun come up. There is no use in trying to sleep for my heart is racing. I already miss her presence. Not just the lustful, moaning sensual goddess that unfurled before me in the dark. I adore the witty, teasing clever little fox who at every turn has a ready answer or a tart little tone to her voice. She has so much spirit that I do not have the first idea of how she survived here for three years in such isolation. Pulling some white cotton drawers on I open my small window and inhale the fresh air. Another hour and dawn will arrive. I rest my arms on the sill, the cold air tingling at the scratches and nips my darling lavished on me. War wounds and battle scars I shall tease her, when really, they are a trophy. To have enraptured her senses so thoroughly she clawed into me for survival makes me grin like the worst kind of devious rogue as rest my chin on my arms. Edmund is to go to Bath. I must see my brother in London. Damni
Trying to disguise my dishevelled state meant I managed no sleep before dawn. Splashing my face with water, trying to clean between my legs, I heard the carriages pulling. With a heavy dread I knew I had to be downstairs promptly to bid Edmund farewell. "Goodness Your Grace what has happened to you!" Marie chided as she entered my bedroom. She almost dropped the tea tray as she stared at the livid dark bruise on my collar bone. "Your hair, you are injured, is everything quite alright?" "I fell out of the bed, I am supposed you did not hear my great thump," I replied, rubbing the corner of the bedside table. "I shall request some arnica to put on that bruise if you do not mind Your Grace." I nodded and tried to stifle a yawn. Of course it was a mark from Fitz and his caresses, along with my raw nipples, aching thighs and torso. I needed sleep and a warm bath. Yet I received a tightly laced corset and a dark blue day gown with a white ribbon. With an almost viciously firm han
***FITZ POV*** I am teetering on the edge of ruining everything. Thank God we are returning soon. The pair of them are nothing but loathsome gargoyles. Neither of them fit to be called gentlemen. How Vanessa remains safe under a roof with them is a mystery. I have borne witness to the worst excesses. If Edmund returns miraculously cured it won't be through the hot spring waters of Bath. It will be through the power of port and whores. Three nights of debauchery, tonight is the fourth. Watching Doctor Farrers, if the man is even qualified to call himself such a thing, ply the arrogant Duke with ever stronger draughts of opioids is concerning. Each night his pupils were black holes, empty voids as I carried him to his room. Somehow every morning he was somehow dressed and plied into the carriage. I suspect the good Doctor is supplying him with an alternative medication for the mornings, to ensure he is sprightly and energetic. Almost manic as he chatters his way through the papers a
The absence of Fitz has been intolerable. I swing between elation at Edmund’s departure and heartsick despair. I allow myself one cry. Straight after the they left, exhausted from my night in Fitz’s room and overcome with the shock of his leaving I gave in to despair. With the door locked the servants knew not to approach. My eyes were red and puffy, cheeks sore from wiping away tears but then I came to back to myself. Observing from the sash windows I tried to think clearly. Fitz believed me to be an intelligent, capable woman. Alongside a dozen other things which made me blush and smile just to remember. I could not remember a time before where Tarrick Hall had been at my disposal. What could I use this situation for? I must push the idea of Edmund insisting on being present in the room to the rear of my mind. Otherwise my hands tremble and nausea overwhelm. Instead I pace the parlour, my gown swishing as I grow more frustrated. I remember the things Edmund forbade me from over
When Edmund comes for me at eleven every emotion has raced through me a dozen times already. The act of love I commit with Fitz would be forever polluted and tainted should Edmund insist. My feet unsteady as we walked along the corridor. He doesn’t say a word but his anger is apparent. The rap of his cane is sharper, hitting the floor harder than ever. I dare not ask how his trip proceeded. My tongue is so tied that when he opens the door my heart does not even flutter. Fear consumes me despite being only metres away from Fitz. He is stood, white shirt and tan breeches again, his blue and gold uniform dispensed with. His ashy brown hair is trimmed back, some curls still visible and I have an overwhelming urge to run my hands through it. I wear my white cotton nightgown and purple silk robe as before. My hair in loose curls, the tight, ringlet forming wraps of cotton usually used by Marie rejected this evening. She understood why, nodding, with a soft, “I shall be praying for you You
Once on the bed Fitz caressed my face with his hand, my hair softly falling through his fingers. His leg laid across mine was deliciously heavy, parting mine naturally as we lay together. I pushed his braces down his arms, his shirt already open and kissed his bare chest. "What are you thinking," I asked softly and a small smile lit up his face. "How relieved I am to see the colour back in your face. You looked positively ill this afternoon and then tonight you were grey." "Your compliments have not improved," I murmured, pulling him towards me for a kiss and lifting my rear from the mattress as his hands began to work my nightgown upwards. "I say as I see," and lavished kisses on my neck as I squirmed. “There, a much better colour,” he said with a grin, lifting his head up, forcing me to smile at his tease. My eyes almost closing as his other hand traced lazy patterns around my covered breasts and stomach, slowly winding its way down to the raised hem of my nightgown. As he kis
“No please!” I cried, leaping from the bed and chasing him to the door, “no please Fitz, you can’t!” He was like steel, inflexible despite my tugging at his arms he continued towards the handle. “Do not be like him. You are the better man, the man I love.” “He laid his hands on you! You are asking me about whipping and beating, how can I live with myself if I do not keep you safe from such a monster!” “Because my life cannot continue without you! You kill him and I lose you forever!” continuing to grab at his shirt, desperately trying to make him listen. I wedged myself between Fitz and the door, pushing my weight against it. His huge frame towered over me, frustration oozing from every pore. “Vanessa…” his voice trailing off as my hands raked up and down his chest, trying to soothe him. His whole body was as tense as steel. “It was once, years ago, please don’t leave me.” “I’m not leaving you, I’m trying to look after you,” he replied grittily. I placed my hands softly against h
There is no single term available to describe the following week. Bliss, heaven, freedom. Each night Edmund delivered me to that room and Fitz devoured me. Once the three nights were up I could not stand to go back to ignorance. I wanted to be impregnated this month, so I snuck into Fitz's room three more nights. I was shown a world of pleasures that I had not even dared imagine. He could be tenderness personified, whispering adoration into my ear as he made my sex quiver with need. I appeared to develop a separate personality. I sit as placid as a porcelain doll in my parlour all day long. Pliable, quiet and obedient. I take tea, needlepoint and meet with a local group of church women. We discuss the leaves on the road, the change in seasons, the latest fashions. Edmund has encouraged this, since Lady Cawley’s downfall there is a renewed focus on morality. I sit listening to impromptu sermons from the grey-haired zealots about the joys of marriage. The purity of the households