Regency Romance: A Duchess in Disguise (Historical 19th Century Victorian Romance) (Duke Fantasy Billionaire Romance) (93 page)

Rupert. David knew him, but not well. He had never felt jealous of the man, because he had never coveted Elizabeth, but now he did, and he felt the bitter taste of jealousy well up in his stomach.

He went out into the garden, and his footsteps caused the other two to separate.

“David!” Elizabeth said.

“I should be going,” Rupert said, but David held a hand out to him.

“Stay, I will only be a moment. Elizabeth, if I may speak to you.”

The young woman nodded and followed him back towards the home. He had wished to speak about his conversation with his father, had wanted to tell her what his father had said, had wanted to speak with her about the agreement they had reached. But instead he thought of her. He wondered if she would be happy with a man like him, even a changed one. He didn’t think she would be.

“My father has resumed my allowance,” he said.

“He has?”

“I no longer need to marry you.”

“So that’s it?” Elizabeth asked. She felt an anger rising inside of her. She felt her cheeks grow heated as they turned red.

“That man over there, he’s the man you need,” David said, and though he wanted to say more, he couldn’t, and he turned and hurried inside.

Elizabeth was dumbfounded. She couldn’t move for a moment, she just watched him go, and then she was moving, running after him.

He was already out of the front door by the time Elizabeth entered the hall. She had heard it shut as she was still moving past the dining room. But she ran to it, planning on yelling after him, wanting to let him know she loved him, that he was a fool, and that now she hated him. She wrenched the front door open, preparing to run out into the drive, but he was there, facing the door, reaching to open it again and instead he found her, and she was in his arms, and they were kissing.

“I cannot lie,” he said, breaking the kiss. “That was a lie, and I cannot do it. Marry me. Marry me, I love you. I never knew I could love like this, but I can.”

“It was a lie?”

“I know you love Rupert, but I want that love to be mine,” David said.

“I don’t love Rupert,” Elizabeth said. Not the way I love you. What was a lie? You telling me to be with him? Why would you do that?”

“So you could be happy,” David said.

“You were willing to give me up, the woman you love, so I could be happy?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes,” David said, nodding. She kissed him again, deeply, their tongues dancing together in their mouths.

“Then you have done it,” she said as they finally drew their lips apart.

“Done what?”

“I will marry you.”

David grinned and picked her up, swinging her in a wide circle just outside her father’s home.

“You will?” he asked. “You promise?”

“I will,” Elizabeth said again, and they were kissing once more. When they pulled away David’s face was serious, and she felt nervous as he opened his mouth to speak.

“So which one of us is going to tell Rupert to leave?” he said, and they burst into a fit of laughter.

David and Elizabeth were married just a month later. That night, they lay amongst burning candles and blankets made of fur on a soft bed.

Elizabeth felt goose bumps as David ran his manly hand along her naked curves, down the side of her breast, down over her waste and hips, and finding its way towards her inner thighs. She let out a sigh when his fingers found her womanhood. He parted her lips and rubbed her wetness.  He kissed her and then slowly inserted a finger. She closed her muscles around it, letting out a small groan. With his thumb, he pressed on her clitoris, which pressured her as he slid his finger in and out. David inserted a second finger and she felt the pleasure against her walls. He fingered her harder and faster until the pressure in her abdomen exploded and she came on his hand, arching her back, gripping the fur blanket.

But that was not enough. Elizabeth wanted more. She wanted to feel David’s fullness inside her. She reached for his penis. It felt hard and hot in her hand. She opened her legs and guided him to her wet and pulsating opening.

David slid inside, and Elizabeth groaned. His movements were slow so she could feel every inch of him as he slid in and out of her, teasing, pleasuring. He muscles in her vagina tingled and tightened. She could take no more.

Elizabeth opened her legs wider and grabbed David’s buttocks between her hands, guiding him to move faster, stronger. And when he pumped with more force, she felt him pound against her clitoris, her muscles clenching around his penis, the pressure building again in her entire body until she exploded once more with a long grown that lasted as long as her orgasm.

And then David came, his body shaking with pleasure.

Afterwards they lie together, sweaty and spent, but sated, their limbs entwined. Elizabeth had never felt so happy, and she was sure that her wager had been the last gamble her husband would ever take.

She had won the game of love.

****

THE END

Sedgefield House was a magnificent English manor house, set in ninety acres of beautiful parkland. Lord Wallace, its occupant, had a seat in the House of Lords, and was the chairman of the company his father had founded over fifty years ago, Wallace Stock Brokers Ltd.

''What do you think, Emily? The roof is leaking, do you want to have it repaired now or after the winter has finished?''

His wife put down the book she was reading, and looked at him. ''Peter, I really don't know. Perhaps you could decide. Ask the builder what he thinks.''

''Alright, I'll see to it. It's just that you bought this house, and I always feel I should ask you when we need to repair something.''

''My dear, there really is no need for you to consult me. This house is yours, not mine. The law of the land clearly states that any fortune brought by a woman to a marriage automatically becomes her husband’s. It’s yours to do what you like with. When your late father and my father arranged for us to be married, it was for a sole purpose. That my wealth may help you after the financial crisis left you bereft of funds.” Emily paused. “Since our wedding three years ago, I have come to love you beyond imagination, all I have is yours and always will be.''

Peter Wallace looked at his wife. She was very beautiful and only twenty five, eight years his junior. She had blonde hair with ringlets, which dropped down the side of her head, framing her face beautifully. She was quite tall and slender, and her green eyes pierced every man's heart. When she'd bought Sedgefield House, she had spent almost a year redecorating and refurnishing it. It was now a beautiful home, and a very comfortable one.

In the evenings they often sat together in the drawing room. It was a long room with a beautiful fire place. On winter evenings, they were kept warm and cozy by enormous fires. They sat on separate sofas, each close to the fire. Their two Labradors, Milly and Flossy always fought for the warmest place, as they huddled down for the evening.

Shortly before bedtime, Joseph the butler came into the room, and asked Lord Wallace if he would like a nightcap. He usually partook of a whiskey before bed. This evening he did not.

''I'm tired, I'm going up. Will you come too?'' Emily asked him, hoping he would say yes.

''No, I want to finish this article. You go ahead. I'll be up shortly.''

Emily climbed the grand staircase, which led directly from the hallway up to the first floor. The landing was long. There were five polished mahogany doors on each side. Emily opened the third on the left, and went inside.

''Good evening, Mary,'' Emily said to the maid who was waiting for her.

''Good evening, my lady, I have prepared your bath and put out a clean night gown.''

Emily stood in the middle of the room as Mary undid her evening dress. It was a large room with a huge four poster bed, and a fireplace on the opposite wall. Mary had stoked the fire, and as Emily bathed, it crackled cozily. When Emily got out of the bath, Mary dried her and slipped her nightgown over her head.

After Mary had gone, Emily lay under the fresh bed sheets, and looked at the fire. She so wanted Peter to come up to bed. She waited as long as she could for him, but sleep overcame her and she drifted away. When Peter came to bed, it was one in the morning. Emily woke when he rolled under the covers next to her.

She moved closer to him and put her arm around him. She slowly let her hand glide down to the place she had been longing to touch all evening.

''Emily, please stop, I'm tired.''

''But Peter, we haven't made love for such a long time. I want you. Please take me.''

Peter didn't reply, he rolled onto his side, and closed his eyes. Emily played with his manhood for a while, but when she got no reaction, she rolled over, frustrated.

When the first shades of winter light began to fall through a gap in the curtains, Emily still hadn't managed to fall asleep again. When Peter woke, she watched as he got out of bed. He was a handsome man. The moment she had met him, she was attracted to him. Unlike her, he was dark and his skin was brown. When he stood naked at the foot of the bed, she noticed that he seemed to be leaner than when he'd last allowed her to look. When he slipped into his underwear, she saw how taught his buttocks were, and how strong his thighs looked. He left the room without saying anything.

When Emily came downstairs, she walked into the breakfast room. ''Good morning, Peter.'' she said, as she sat down at her end of the long table. Joseph put a pot of fresh tea in front of her, and a plate of toast. Peter always had eggs and bacon, but Emily's fine constitution wouldn't allow her to eat fat. Her day always began with toast and jam, followed by an apple.

''What have you got planned today, my dear?'' she asked Peter.

''I'm going up to London. I have a meeting. I won't be back until tomorrow. I'm dining with clients and then I'll sleep at my club.''

''You seem to be spending a lot of evenings in London these days.''

''It seems everyone is too busy to talk to their stock broker during the day. It is far easier to make appointments in the evening. After talking business all evening, I really do not feel like taking the journey home. It's very comfortable at the club.''

After Peter had gone, Emily finished her breakfast and put on her coat and walking shoes. Emily enjoyed walking the grounds of the Manor. In the frost and snow, everything looked quite spectacular. As Milly and Flossy bounded around the lawn, Emily looked at the house she had bought for them.

The front door was blue, and it had an enormous brass knocker in its middle. Emily made sure it was polished daily. Joseph was used to the phrase, ''it's the first thing visitors put their hands on.'' To each side of the door were four windows. On the left, the drawing room and on the right a small library, and Peter's study. Below the windows were flower beds, which at this time of year were empty and frozen.

''Hello,'' someone said, making Emily jump.

''Sir John, you really mustn't creep up on me like that. You could give me a heart attack.''

Sir John, Emily’s neighbor, was around Peter’s age and almost as handsome. He was a rugged type, always with his cravat loosened, his hair slightly tussled. Had Emily not been so in love with her husband, lonely at night, she could have easily fantasized about Sir John’s body that she imagined underneath his shirt.

“I was just out for a walk, and thought I would say hello.'' he said enthusiastically.

''I thought you were in the middle of having that enormous house of yours redecorated?'' Emily asked.

''I am, but the place has got sixteen bedrooms and countless other rooms. It's taking forever. It's full of workmen and if I didn't get out for at least an hour a day, I would go mad.''

''Are you sure they won't pinch any of your valuable furnishings? All they would have to do is steal one of your statues and they wouldn't have to work ever again.''

''Quite true, but Patterson is keeping an eye out.''

''How is he? He wasn't very well I heard.''

''Do you know, he's seventy five. He served my grandfather when he was a young man and he's remained faithful to the family ever since. He’s the most marvelous butler a man could wish for.''

''Well please treat him well. He is very old still to be working.''

''Where is Peter?'' John asked.

''Gone to London, to his office, and then on to his club.''

''Will he be away this evening?''

''Yes.''

''Splendid. Then you are free to come over to Eagle Lodge for dinner.''

''Thank you for you kind offer, but I have many things to do here. Please do not be offended.'' Emily was loathe to refuse because she knew how lonely Sir John was after his parents had been killed in a boating accident while on holiday in the South of France.

''Of course. Well, I'll be off.''

Emily watched him walk through the gate, and over the fields in the direction of his property. 

*****

Peter looked out of his office window across Trafalgar Square. As usual there were hundreds of pigeons walking around, pecking at the ground. There were at least ten perched on top of Nelson's hat. He turned back to the room and sat at the enormous oak desk his father had bought, when he'd started their stock broking business, fifty years ago.

There was knock at the door and Jackson, Peter's clerk, came into the room. ''I just wanted to check on the fire, it's bitterly cold outside, and we shouldn't let it go out,'' he said, as he picked up a brass topped poker.

''When you've done that can you bring me the client list?'' Peter said. Jackson stoked up the fire, went out of the room and reemerged with a bundle of papers. He sat down opposite Peter, and handed them to him.

''Let's see,'' Peter said, as his glasses threatened to fall from the end of his nose. ''I'm especially interested in the investments we have made on behalf of Sir John Waterford.''

''At the bottom of the page sir. 'W', almost last in the alphabet,'' Jackson said, stating the obvious.

''Yes. I see. Not performing very well are they?''

''No sir, they are not. But may I remind you, we offered Sir John much advice at the time. We warned him not to invest in those stocks. Unfortunately, he didn't listen. It is of his own doing that his fortune is disappearing before his very eyes.''

''Indeed, I remember. It's very awkward, he's a neighbor and I don't want to see him go under.''

''I understand sir, perhaps you can talk to him and get him to sell, and at least retrieve some of his investment.''

''Yes, I will. Now what messages do you have for me?''

''Mr. Stopps called by, he wants to invest two thousand in the East India Rubber Company. Mr. Rawlings wants you to sell his stocks in GNER, and reinvest in some company I have never heard of, and Miss Pemberly send notice that you should meet her at five o'clock in the tea room at Claridges.''

''Thank you, Jackson. Just so you don't misunderstand, Miss Pemberly is also a neighbor of ours out in the Shires. She's in town to do some shopping and I said I would meet her to discuss her finances.''

''Of course, sir,'' Jackson said, as he lifted his tiny frame out of the chair. As he turned his back on Peter, and walked towards the door, he smiled at Peter's explanation of his association with Miss Pemberly.

*****

Peter lifted the collar on his coat when he jumped out of the cab. A biting wind was blowing down Brook Street, and the cab had been unable to drop him right outside Claridges because some workmen were digging a hole. When he got to the Hotel, he saw the doorman in his top hat and yellow coat, carrying some cases for an elderly lady, who it seemed had brought her entire belongings with her to stay at the luxury hotel.

When he went inside, he marveled at the sheer beauty of the place. The floor looked like a giant chess board, with its black and white tiles. Immediately to the right was a staircase with an exquisite oak handrail held up by decorative metalwork. He was pleased to see the welcoming fireplace. He noted that the giant chandelier overhanging the entrance hall still hadn't fallen down, as he always imagined it would one day. He turned to the left and walked into the busy tea room. Claridges was expensive, but it was very popular with the wealthy London set.

He spotted Miss Pemberly, sitting at a small table, in the far corner of the room. As he made his way to her, he could see something was different about her. She was dressed in a maroon bonnet made of silk velvet. It had an pink ribbon tied around the crown and down under her chin. She wore a maroon dress with a square décolleté which showed of the tops of her ample breasts.

''Miss Pemberly, how are you?'' Peter said as he took her hand to his lips.

''Quite well, Lord Wallace. And how are you?''

''Fine, thank you that you ask.''

The two then burst into laughter at their pretense. ''You look lovely,'' Peter commented as he let his hand brush over hers.

''Thank you. And you Peter, look your dashing self, as always.''

''Can you stay tonight?'' he asked anxiously

''Yes. Oh Peter, it has been so long since we were able to sleep in the same bed. I have so missed you.''

''And I you, dear Charlotte. My heart aches for you every time we are apart. How cruel life has been to me. Why did the Lord see fit to have me married off before finding you?''

''I don't know my dear, and I weep almost daily at the situation. If I were wealthy, you could divorce her and come to me. As you know my late father made some terrible financial decisions, and things are really quite tight for me financially. How are your finances coming along now, after your difficulties?''

''Not as well as I'd hoped. I still rely on Emily's money. I only hope one day that my fortunes will change. If they do we can be united. Until that time, my dear Charlotte, I'm afraid we must content ourselves with infrequent encounters like this one.''

''How much is Emily actually worth?''

''A vast amount. Enough to buy this street.''

''We are in the middle of London, and this is a long street, she must indeed be very wealthy.''