ROMANCE: Romantic Comedy: Love in 30 Days - The Best Plans Don't Always Work! (Plus 19 FREE Books Book 13) (61 page)

Chapter 6

They bounded across the countryside, the powerful strides of the horse eating away the distance between the estates and throwing wind into their faces. Elizabeth ducked her head and clutched tightly to Richard, seated in front of him and sideways on the saddle. His arms and the reins encircled her, and she knew he would keep her safe.

There were dark clouds above them, and a peal of thunder in the darkness made them both jump. With hardly any warning a shower of rain came down, heavy enough to soak them both through almost right away.

“We are on Spencer lands now,” Richard shouted above the noise of the storm, driving the horse towards an old barn standing at the side of a field. “Here – a place to shelter.”

He carried her down from the horse and took her inside, going back to ensure that the stallion was properly tied up under the shelter of a small stall obviously meant for the purpose. Inside the barn was dry straw all around, stacked in high bales, and a ladder that led to a small area of floor overlooking it all.

“Here,” Richard said, pointing up to it. “We’ll find a place to sit up there. I used to play here when I was a boy.”

At the top of the ladder was a good-sized platform, wide enough for both of them to sit or walk around as they pleased. The barn was old, but in good shape. A few small wooden stools were scattered about the place, as well as old sackcloth strewn across the floor to keep it warmer. They were able to sit down there, and get some semblance of comfort, but Elizabeth was shivering in her wet dress.

“My dear, I fear you will fall ill,” Richard murmured with concern. “I have no means of making a fire without setting the whole barn ablaze. This wet fabric will have you shivering to your deathbed, I swear it.”

He took off his mourning jacket and set it around her shoulders – but that, too, was damp, and did nothing to ease the shivers running through her body where it touched her dress. Finally, he kneeled before her, rubbing her arms and trying to keep her skin as warm as possible.

“I’m so cold, Lord Richard,” she shivered, miserably. “I can feel the water all over me. My dress is sodden.”

Richard hesitated, then looked away for a moment. He was clearly debating something in his mind; when he looked back, it was with a cautious expression. “You accepted my proposal when you ran with me here, did you not?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, I did,” she said. “It is my deepest wish that we shall be married, even without my Papa’s support.”

“Then, if we were to…” Richard hesitated, took a breath, and started again. “What I mean is, it would not be beyond the bounds of propriety…”

“What is it?” she asked, almost impatiently.

“My heart, let me speak plainly. I fear you will catch pneumonia if you stay in that dress any longer. Perhaps you already have it,” Richard said earnestly, catching one of her hands to hold it. “Please understand, I am concerned with saving your life. I have only just won you, and I would not lose you so soon.”

Elizabeth gasped, but she felt the truth in his words. Again, she felt that she trusted him completely. Even if it was deemed improper – others might, once they were contracted for marriage – surely she should not lose her life over stubbornness in this?

She stood then, shaking with not just the cold, and he rose with her. She was already aware that the thin muslin, still running with water, now clung to her body in a way that itself was not proper. There were no fastenings on her dress; she had only to pull it over her head and it would be removed from her, leaving her bare and exposed.

She had only a short corset and stockings to her knees other than her dress – no petticoats, and nothing else to cover her. Her chemise was so soaked through that it stuck with the fabric of the dress, making barely any difference between the two garments. She shook with nerves as he gently gathered the bottom of her dress, raising it up slowly, never taking his eyes from her face. Then she closed her eyes and lifted her arms up so that he could pull the fabric over her head, and it was done.

For a moment she dared not open her eyes, but when she did, he was staring back just the same as before. His designs were proper, and he did not look down at her uncovered body.

“What of the rest?” he asked, allowing one hand to rest momentarily on the back of her short corset.

She touched them with her hands, shaking her head as she shivered. “Wet through,” she told him.

“Then…” he suggested, and she nodded.

She unlaced the corset while he bent to help her with the stockings, sliding each one down her leg at a time. When they were both done she stood naked, without a scrap to cover her modesty, and still shaking with cold.

“We must get you dry, somehow,” he said, pulling off his linen shirt in a swift movement and beginning to rub the fabric along her arms. It worked; like a towel, the damp moisture was pulled from her. He worked on her legs next, and then hesitated greatly, stepping back from her for a moment.

His bare chest was strong and broad, and he was breathing hard from both the exertion and the excitement. She, too, felt a warmth growing in her belly, spreading to warm her from within. It was as if something between her legs had been lit on fire – and she blushed to see a bulge in the front of his breeches which she had never seen before.

“Elizabeth -” he said suddenly, and, pulling her towards him, trapped her body against his in a tight embrace. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, their first. She could have floated away. Everything – her nakedness, the storm, the cold – melted into nothing. The only thing was their kiss, his hot mouth against hers.

When they broke off, she grasped him tightly, putting her arms around him so that he would not pull away. Outside, the wind was still howling, and the rain battered down on the roof. They would not be able to leave the barn for some time.

“Oh, Elizabeth,” he said again, going in for another kiss. This time it was not just his mouth, but the heat of his hands, roaming the skin of her back and turning everything they touched into molten gold. The shivers that ran through her now were not for the cold. He kissed her delicate neck, her white shoulders, her dainty and small hands. At length he kneeled before her and kissed her stomach, her thighs, and at last – at last! – her breasts.

They lay down next to one another on the sackcloth, neither minding the touch of the rough fabric on their skin. His fingers were bold now, running over her every inch, smoothing back the loose strands of hair that the rain had shaken out and exploring the forbidden expanse of her skin. She felt almost paralysed by the fire running through her every nerve and vein, burning her alive. His touch, his touch was all. But there was more.

He unbuttoned his breeches, and swiftly pulled both those and his cotton drawers out of the way. She did not make any sound, but simply stared at the sight of him – forgetting the propriety which he had afforded her. She was astonished at the size, shape, and every other aspect of his member – an appendage she could only imagine until this moment, and for which nothing had prepared her.

He paused a moment, taking her surprise for reluctance. He even began to pull away.

“Richard,” she said, then, to let him know that she did not want him to go.

“Elizabeth,” he answered, and then he was upon her again, his tongue seeking out the warmth of her mouth as his hands caressed her. They rested on her breasts, feeling the heft and shape of them, stroking the smooth skin in ways that made her breath catch in her throat. Then he moved his hand lower and sought out the most forbidden part of her, and for a moment she really did forget how to breathe.

His hand came away wet with moisture, and he looked into her eyes one more time to make sure. He saw no resistance, and so rolled himself above her, parting her legs with a knee so that he could find his entrance.

He pushed in slowly, but the sensation was such a shock that she moved her legs together by instinct. He soothed her with gentle kisses and quiet words. She had never felt a sensation like this – never dreamed of it. He moved seemingly further inside than was possible, until she felt stretched and full, and then paused for a moment.

Slowly then, and gathering pace, he began to move, backwards and forwards, in and out. Her breath came in pants, and with them small gasps of sound, high in her throat and unbidden. Once he had found his rhythm he became more forceful, thrusting deeper and faster, grunting here and there with the sensations that were stirred in him. She bit her lip, hard, as he put his hands to her breasts again, and she tasted blood.

After a time that was both the barest of moments and the longest of eternities, his cries began to mingle with hers, and he thrust faster and faster until finally the rhythm became lost, staccato. He cried out her name and was lost in ecstasy for a moment, before losing his energy and slumping down to one side of her. She, too, panted for air, feeling the gloss of sweat now on her skin rather than rain. The storm was unabated, heavy drops hitting the roof above them in a furious pattern. He lay down next to her on the sackcloth and pulled his mourning jacket to cover her, and for a while, they rested.

Chapter 7

She did not catch pneumonia. They were forced to stay the night in the barn while the rain passed over, fiercely and unabatedly hammering the old barn until dawn. The straw kept their small loft insulated from the worst of the cold, and so when they awoke, their shared body heat had been enough to keep them well.

They dressed in clothing that was still somewhat damp, feeling the displeasure of wet cotton and muslin against the skin, and rode swiftly to the Spencer house. There Lady Margaret was full of concern, ordering them both to baths of hot water heated on the stove. For a temporary measure Elizabeth borrowed a gown from the late Lady Spencer’s collection – kept for alterations that they might fit her daughter one day – and waited for her gown to dry out fully.

The rest of the week was spent in preparation. Richard was not a poor man, and they had provision enough to make things comfortable. New dresses were ordered, food for the hall, and fresh flowers to brighten their home. Richard purchased a special license for their wedding so that they did not have to wait for the Banns, and then – seven days after leaving the home of her parents – they were wed.

Their marriage was a passionate one. The romance of their first entanglement was enough to drive many more such meetings after they were wed, and in all things, Elizabeth found that Richard was perhaps the best suited partner she could have wished to make. Between them they could raise Lady Margaret all the better, and that was indeed very important if she was to marry well. So high were their spirits that it was not a full year after their wedding that Elizabeth, sweating in her bed, gave him a daughter.

At last, Lord Shelley could not withstand the passions of his wife any longer. He relented to see the child, and with full explanation and the further passage of time, the Shelleys and Spencers were once again able to see eye to eye on a great many things – particularly the love of Elizabeth, which drove both Richard and her parents to a swifter agreement, for her sake.

*** THE END ***

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Book Nineteen

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HERO OF BATTLE

By Sarah Styler

Chapter 1

General Anderson looked up from his diary as there was a light tap on the door. He felt a little irritated by the knock. It was eight in the evening and he had been looking forward to some quite time all on his own. The day had been a long and tiring one with all the troubling events in the army camp since early morning and the General felt his nerves getting a little frayed. He had expected everyone to be back in their huts by now, warming their bodies by the fire. General Anderson put down his diary and felt for his pistol under the pillow. One could never be too sure in those parts. Then he called out, “Come in please!”

“May I come in sir?” Sergeant Walters poked his head in through the small opening.

“Ah…Sergeant, I must say I wasn’t expecting you at this time of the night. Do close the door behind you!”

“Thank you General,” the man said as he entered the small room. He stood there respectfully and waited for his senior to give him the command.

“Oh do sit down,” the General said and pushed a chair towards him. “Like a drink? It’s frightening cold out there, I must say!”

“It sure is! Never imagined that the winter could get so terrible in these parts, did we?”

“Well I guess you just have to be prepared even for the unexpected when you are in such a hell of a place like this!” the General remarked as both of them shared a laugh.

General Gerald Anderson and Sergeant Johan Walters were both part of the US Army. They were presently posted in Afghanistan as part of the US military’s efforts to control extremist activity in the country and flush out the terrorists who were proving to be a major threat to all around the world. The winter season had set in early and before anyone could realize, bitterly cold winds from the Arctic poles were sweeping across the land and even bringing in snowfall to the country. This night was no different.

“So what was it that you wanted to see me about at this time of the night?” the General asked Sergeant Walters. “Anything serious the matter, is it?”

“Umm…no not really! It was just…sir…have you given any consideration to my request for a leave next month?” he asked.

The General laughed. “You are speaking as if you were asking me to review my wife’s death certificate! Speak up son, there’s nothing to be afraid. And to answer your question, yes I have gone through it. You can take your vacation next month!”

“Thank you General,” the Sergeant said.

“Is that all?”

“Yes!”

“Good! Did you check on the two who got injured in the morning? I missed them during my evening rounds.”

“Yes sir I did, both of them are recovering nicely!”

“Nice! Just one afterthought, what have you done to beef up security for the night?”

“We have standard security measures in place sir,” the Sergeant said. “All guard posts will be manned by a couple of soldiers and there will be constant patrolling of the grounds. There is a forecast for a light blizzard later in the night and I’m afraid if that happens, the men will find it a little difficult. In any case I have asked them not to lower their guards.”

Earlier in the day, there had been a sudden attack on the US Army camp by rebel Afghan militants. A minor battle had broken out between the two sides and the rebels had all been shot dead. However, the Americans had faced injuries themselves with two of the soldiers being admitted to the camp hospital with serious injuries. These were the people General Anderson had been referring to.

“Good, good, I am glad to hear that! If there is nothing more to say Sergeant, you can take your leave,” the senior army officer said.

Sergeant Johan Walters stood up from his chair and gave a salute to the General. Then he turned around and respectfully marched out of the place. Outside, it had started to snow very lightly once again. A soldier walked past as part of the night patrol.

Johan took a quick glance around at the security arrangements in place. Everyone seemed to be manning their respective positions and it did not seem as if there was much for the soldiers to worry about. However, just like the General had just said you always had to be prepared for the unexpected while in Afghanistan.

Apart from the patrolling soldiers, there was no one else in sight. All the others were inside their respective camps and warming themselves by the fire. Johan started walking towards his own camp. He smiled at himself at the thought of going home the next month. There was after all no place like home!

Chapter 2

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your in-flight attendant speaking,” a sweet female voice brought Johan out of his sleep. “We will be reaching the John F Kennedy International Airport in another ten minutes. I would request you to…,” and she went on rattling a number of instructions on all that needed to be done in preparation for the landing.

He looked out of the window and out on to the grey cloud cover the plane was traveling through. He waited in anticipation to catch a glimpse of the Manhattan skyline as the first sightings of the country loomed over the horizon. “New York!” he thought. “What sweet memories, what pleasant moments. God, I just can’t wait to be back in there!”

Johan Walters had been a resident of this thriving metropolis all his life. In fact, the Walters family had been settled in the city for three generations and was one of the well-known people in the locality. His father, Steve Walters was a famous businessman in the country and they were pretty rich. Johan had been born with the proverbial golden spoon in his mouth but life had not been too kind to the young boy.

John’s father would often have to stay away on long business trips and driven by this constant loneliness, his mother had taken to having extra-marital affairs. She had never loved her son and would always leave him down to neglect. “I wanted a daughter but you were not able to give me one. I will never love that boy who will grow up to be just like you,” she would tell her husband every time he confronted her on her negligent ways.

Very soon, the not-so-little matter of the extramarital affair was out in the open when Steve caught his wife in bed with another man one evening. Being the gentleman that he was, he did not make a big hue and cry of it all but granted divorce to his wife without a second thought. It turned out to be a win-win situation for all involved apart from a young six-year-old Johan who ended up suffering the most because of this split. His father never married again and he was forced to grow up pretty much all on his own without the love of a mother that all children so cherish.

Before long, Johan was in college. He had grown up into a very handsome young man. He was tall and had an extremely athletic build with muscular arms and physique. He would keep his jet black hair perpetually back-brushed and having been in the company of his sophisticated father all along, possessed highly refined tastes. Combined with the fact that he was from a renowned, rich background Johan was the ideal attractive young man with deep pockets that the teenage girls in college would swoon over. As someone who had craved for a good deal of attention in his childhood but had been deprived of it all along, Johan Walters enjoyed being in the spotlight.

A light rumbling near his feet indicated that the plane had touched down in New York and brought the soldier out of his musings. He looked out at the dull, grey city. There was a cloud cover hanging around and had drowned the place in a pale shadow that made the otherwise colorful and bright city look melancholic.

Johan walked out of the airport terminal and took a cab home. Along the way, they passed New York Metropolitan University, a place that had given him great memories in his life and had also been the cause for considerable amount of heartburn.

He was still a freshman in college but was already ruling over the hearts of almost every girl in his batch. Studies and career had taken a backseat for him in life and every single day of his existence was ruled by drinks and parties. Johan would go around college flashing expensive belongings and show up in brand new sports cars. However, his father was totally unaware of the expensive lifestyle and messy habits his son had started to develop for the man was too busy away on his business trips and barely had time for his son. Things came to the fore when one early morning Johan crashed his Lamborghini while returning home from a party. The cops had found him in an inebriated state and had locked him up. A close business associate of his father had come to know about the developments and bailed him out. Steve Walters had given his son a real big piece of his mind upon returning home a couple of days later and had pulled him out of college, suspecting that the young man had been picking up all his ‘nasty’ habits from there.

Though Johan did not have much interest in studies, he was an exceptional athlete. He had made a name for himself in the University basketball team and was in the reckoning for a spot in the sprint team as well. However, the untimely end to his academic career put paid to his hopes of making it big as a sportsman. He was very diligent and obedient towards the words of his father and did not have the guts to confront him. Nevertheless, his father was worried about the direction his son’s career was going in. After much debate and consideration, Steve finally decided that Johan would be a good match in the US Army. So when the next bulletin was out regarding the recruitment of young soldiers, he enrolled his son. Steve Walters had been a proud man the day his son officially joined the army as a trainee, much to the chagrin of young Johan who did not fancy the strict life for himself.

It was not long before the young recruit started enjoying himself in the new strict environs of the US Army. Many of the supervising seniors considered him to be a natural fit and were pretty amazed at the rapid rate of development that he showed. Johan progressed through the ranks faster than most would have expected and at the tender age of twenty-two, was already working on his first major assignment in Mexico as a private.