Regency Romance: The Rake's Fake Marriage (Historical Arranged Marriage Romance) (19th Century Victorian Romance) (82 page)

''Sir, I am James Arbuthnot. I am a journalist at the Times Newspaper. It is my job to hold politicians to account. As you are more aware than I, there is an election
looming,
and you are standing for re-election as the Member of Parliament for Bramham. Your message to the electorate seems to be one based on moral principles. I would like to ask you, Sir, if visiting a house of ill repute and, excuse me for using this word, fucking prostitutes, constitutes the moral high ground on which you are seeking election?''

''What do you want?'' The Earl asked. The Earl was in his late fifties and had a full head of graying hair. He was typically aristocratic looking, tall and slender.

''Very perceptive of you Earl. Let me lay my cards on the table. I am a
friend
of your son, Charles. It is my belief that you have wronged him. You have disinherited him and condemned him to a life of misery while you, Sir, are the real wrong doer. So let me come to the point. Unless you reinstate your son as your heir, I will print a story in the Times, telling its readers, what I have witnessed here this evening. I doubt very much
if,
after that, you will be able to grace the House of Commons with your presence ever again. In fact, I wager you will
be ruined
.''

*****

''Charles,” Emily shrieked as he passed the
Butler
and walked into the drawing room at Priory Manor.

''Calm yourself Emily and listen to what I have to say.'' Emily's was so excited to see him that she was unable to control her breathing. ''I have wronged you.....''

''Oh Charles please, not all that again,'' Emily interrupted. ''You have told me a thousand times, how you have wronged me and how your position won't allow you to court me. I know that, so please come to the point.''

''I love you.”

Emily sank back onto the sofa, her mouth open in disbelief. ''What?''

''I love
you,
and I have won the
auction,
and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. That
is
if
you'll have
me, after
all,
I have put you through.''

As the tears rolled down Emily's face, she stood up and kissed him for the first time. It was a passionate lingering kiss that promised much for their future together. When their lips finally parted, Emily said,'' I have a thousand questions.''

''Then ask them,'' he said as he placed soft kisses
on
her neck.

''How on earth did you come
into enough money
to win the auction?''

''Blackmail, next question?''

''How did you know how much to bid to be
certain
of winning?''

''Beatrice told me it should be more than twenty thousand pounds. Next question?''

''The next question is indelicate.''

''Speak
it,
my dear.''

''Will you take me to bed?''

''And where are your parents?''

''In London, they will be back in three days.''

Emily and Charles stood in her bedroom and looked at one another for the slightest of moments before they flew at each other. It was their first sexual
encounter,
and they were in no mood to hold back. As their lips met, Charles reached behind Emily's back and began to undo the buttons on her dress. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him to her, desperately wanting to feel his lips press into hers.
She
was searching for a release from the tension of the previous
weeks,
and his lips were her starting point.

She opened her mouth wider as his tongue invited her to. Emily felt a fire burning inside her as she took in his masculine scent. Her dress was open
now,
and Charles pushed it down to the floor, eagerly. When he stood before her without his shirt, Emily was able to see the
magnificent
physique she would have the pleasure of touching in all the years to come.

She ran her hands over his chest and let her thumbs drift lightly over his nipples. She leaned into him and placed seductive kisses onto his chest. They kissed more as Charles felt inside her undergarments eager to feel the weight of her breasts in his hands. As he fondled her, Emily sighed, feeling his strong hands holding her in a way she had never thought possible just minutes ago.

Charles was eager to see her
naked,
and she gasped as he ripped her petticoat from her. Buttons and clips flew over the floor as Emily's breasts
were revealed
to his sight for the first time. He bent down and took a nipple
into
his mouth, feeling it harden as he did so. She put her hand on the back of his head and encouraged him to suck her harder. He swooped to her other breast and did the same and Emily began to feel
real
heat rising from her sex.

She wanted him inside her, to feel him fill her with his desire and take her to a dangerous place.  Emily's petticoat was hanging from her hips. She bent down, pulled it off her and pulled down her knickers. Naked, she pulled Charles to her. He felt her nipples, erect and hard, push into his chest as their tongues played with one another. He reached down and felt her buttocks,
cool
to his touch. He cheekily pulled them
apart,
and they laughed. His head was beginning to spin at the scent to
her,
and he wanted to lie with her. He maneuvered her to the bed and pushed her down onto it. He looked at her
gorgeous
curves and the soft curls at the place he wanted most.

Emily wasn't' going to lie
passively
as he undressed
himself
, she wanted to discover him. She knelt up in front of him and smiled as she slowly rubbed her hands over his imprisoned shaft.
She
felt it twitch. She loved this
man,
and
she
wanted him to know that she was desperate for him. His belt gave
way,
and her delicate fingers opened the buttons
at
his front. He moaned as she put her hand inside and found his manhood. Her hand stroked him
fast,
and he was worried that he would ejaculate. There was only one place he wanted to
ejaculate
and that was inside his beautiful lover. He moved her hand away and
rid
himself of his trousers and pants. He was dismayed when Emily took him in her hand and started to stroke again.

He had to stop her insatiable
onslaught,
or he would come in her hand. He placed his hands on her shoulders and shoved her back onto the bed. As he did so, her pelvis bounced back up at him. He took hold of her under her bottom, forced her legs open with his shoulder and placed his mouth on her most secret place. Emily came instantly. He saw her fists clench the sheets as she pushed her sex against his
mouth
. When he let go of
her,
she was shaking and on a
plateau,
she never wished to
return from
.

He wanted her now. He
was done
with playing. Now he was going to take his future
wife,
and he was going to show her how much he wanted her.

Emily was still shaking when he put his penis
at
her opening and eased himself into her. The feeling was
indescribable,
and she felt more intense waves rising within her. When he began to move inside
her,
she came again. He cried out as her nails raked down his back, finally sinking themselves into his taught buttocks.

When Emily whispered, ''faster my love,'' Charles felt himself losing control. He wanted to make it
last,
and he knew if he answered her wishes, he would soon come.
He
decided there would be many more times and gave her what she desired. He thrust into her faster pushing her
up
the bed, against the headboard. Emily felt him hit her clitoris with every down
stroke,
and when she felt his body begin to tighten, she looked him in the eyes and said, ''Now, give yourself to me.'' They came together in one wet wave which had them holding onto each other for minutes after their lust had subsided.

Then Emily whispered, “And that was the bet of the season.”

*****

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.''