The Theft of a Dukedom Page 2

  Of course, canister shot was comprised of a thin tin canister crammed with pistol balls and sundry other inflammable objects, and as it exploded from the mouth of the guns it formed overlapping fields of fire and was devastating for infantry.

  Charles heard Richard gasp as he was hit and turned his head to look up at his friend. ‘Damn!’ Richard said and smiled. ‘It would appear I’ve been hit.’ He said calmly as he toppled like a felled tree, trying to fling the burning tunic away from him. As he bounced onto the glacis, Charles could see flames licking at his back.

  ‘Turn over! Your back’s alight!’ he tried to shout and in the end Richard must have felt the heat for he rolled onto his back and rubbed it in the mud. Then they lay on the glacis for the rest of the night, listening to the moans of the men dying around them and the sounds of battle.

  ‘I’ve listened to the men talk about Badajoz.’ Kitty said firmly, breaking his train of thought. ‘Apparently it was hell on earth and there were so many dead they filled the ditches to the top. The cannon fire must have been deafening.’ She said softly making Charles look at her sharply.

  ‘It was a costly siege.’ He said coldly and finished his brandy. He set the glass down with a distinct click and started to push himself to his feet.

  ‘Why won’t you talk to me about it?’ she asked plaintively. ‘We used to tell each other everything.’

  He slumped back onto the settee, as she brought the decanter over and refilled his glass.

  ‘When I left England, I was filled with boyish dreams of fame and glory.’ He said harshly, hoping a small admission would appease her curiosity. ‘It didn’t take long for me to lose my innocence of war. It is not a pleasant experience, actually. The conditions are harsh, the discipline brutal and the battles horrific.’ He looked her candidly in the eyes. ‘There is nothing as terrifying as trying to shove your sword in a French soldier, before he can stick his in you!’

  He was going to leave it there, but he continued to stare at her and once the flood gate had opened, there was no stopping the words and he didn’t see her anymore, only a battlefield. ‘The French march into battle in a column, twenty or thirty men abreast. Sometimes a hundred.’ He sighed. ‘And the only thing between Napoleon and victory is our thin red line. The only way to stop the column is to smash it with volley fire and Wellington’s Army is becoming very adept at it.’ She watched the horror in his face as he talked. ‘You don’t see a battle, you hear it. The smoke is so thick from the volley fire that you can’t see a damned thing. All you can hear is the French drums hammering, the French soldiers chanting and the gunfire.’ He stopped suddenly as a sob escaped his throat. ‘It’s all you can hear after the cannons stop, the drums and “Vive L’Empereur” until our volleys start. Eventually the volley fire will bring their column to a halt and then they run away. After that a truce is called and the injured are removed from the field. The water boys arrive and every man gets a drink, if we’re lucky there is enough time for the soldiers to clean the gunpowder residue from their muskets, although I’ve seen enough soldiers pee down the barrel to dislodge the caked on powder during the battle.’ He sighed and she watched in amazement as a tear crept out of the corner of his left eye. ‘And then it begins all over again. Being an officer makes you a prime target. We don’t have muskets to fire, all we can do is stand, keep the line steady and wait for the order to move forward, but that only comes after the columns have been smashed with no hope of them regrouping.’

  ‘What about the dead?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘They will be buried after the battle. Sometimes they are piled into pyres and burnt, because the ground is too stony or to hard to dig. And the dead keep piling up, even a week after a battle there are still dying men to deal with.’ He sobbed again and she watched the tears start to fall. ‘Oh! God! Kitty! It was horrific!’ he gasped and she lurched across the room, dropped next to him on the settee and pulled his head onto her shoulder. In his distress he grabbed her and held on tight, as if he was drowning as the horror engulfed him.

  Kitty was glad that he had told her and she was touched that he would cry with her, because she knew he wouldn’t cry with her father. She sat and rocked him, like a mother with a child as he cried and sobbed in shock still nearly two months later. ‘It must have been terrible.’ She murmured and rested her cheek on his head. She pulled his handkerchief out of his sleeve again and held it to his face. Instinctively he grabbed it and wiped his eyes.

  ‘It was.’ He got out between sobs. ‘The blood and gore, especially from the cannon fire. There is nothing more horrific than seeing a body ripped apart by canistershot. The little drummer boys lose their feet if they’re not careful, because of the rolling cannonballs. The only time the guns stop is when the column is coming.’ He gasped again. ‘It’s anonslaught!That’s the only way to describe it. The French just keep on coming.’ He sat up and got control of his tears. ‘But at Cuidad Rodrigo and Badajoz, the French were bottled up inside the forts. We had no other choice but to lay siege to them and then storm the breach.’ He sighed again. ‘Wellington threw thousands at the walls. I don’t know if I was lucky or not, but I was injured in the first few volleys of grapeshot and spent the night lying on the glacis trying to keep Richard alive.’ He had been twisting the linen in his hands and suddenly he lifted it and wiped his face again, sniffing. ‘How brave of me!’ he spat viciously. ‘Crying on my little sister’s shoulder!’

  ‘Thank you.’ She said carefully. ‘For telling me truthfully what it was like and for being comfortable enough to cry on my shoulder.’ She stroked his hair gently. ‘I think you’re very brave. To have gone in the first place was brave, to survive I suspect was luck and to talk about it difficult. I’m honoured you would share your experiences with me.’ She smiled cheekily at him then. ‘So how many Spanish Senoritas did you flirt with?’

  ‘That I will never tell you!’ he said firmly, reaching for his brandy. ‘It’s time you were abed.’

  ‘I’m not sixteen anymore, you know.’ She said tartly, but she nonetheless rose and walked to the door. ‘Please don’t be afraid to talk to me about it. I will listen to whatever you need to talk about.’ She smiled mischievously. ‘Anything!’

  ‘Goodnight, Amelia.’ He said firmly as she tripped out of the door. He actually felt a little more relaxed and got up for more Brandy.

  Chapter 2

  Thomas and Victoria left the ball after another half an hour and he accompanied her home to her expansive property in Berkley Square. As they climbed into the coach he asked. ‘How is the young Duke?’

  ‘Edward is fine.’ Victoria responded. ‘His Governess is most impressed with his learning capacity. It seems he is his father’s son.’

  ‘I’m glad. He’s going to find it very difficult if he’s not prepared properly.’ He sighed. ‘I know I did and I was prepared.’

  ‘Tommy?’ Victoria used his pet name softly, as she turned on the seat to look at him. He turned his head and looked into her sweet heart shaped face. ‘Why do I love you?’

  He laughed delightedly. ‘I have no idea, my love. I was hoping you’d explain it to me, because I never felt like this with Christina.’ He lifted her hand and gently kissed the palm. Filled with sudden mischief, he kissed her wrist, followed by the inside of her elbow, the point of her shoulder and as he looked at her face, she smiled and turned her head, offering her neck for his attention. ‘If I kiss that,’ he croaked, ‘I won’t be able to stop myself from tearing your gown off, and it’s such a short drive.’

  She turned her face back towards him and he caught his breath at the expression in her eyes. ‘You don’t need to take off my gown for that.’ She murmured as her fingers twitched her skirts up an inch.

  A low moan rumbled up from deep in his chest. ‘Don’t tempt me, Vic. The last thing either of us need is to be caughtenflagrantein your coach.’

  She laughed delicately, as she did everything, the sound tinkled in the confines of the carriage like a chime.
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br />   The carriage jerked to a stop and she let her hem fall back to the floor. The footman opened the door and Thomas needed to swallow and breathe deeply before he followed her. She was the most alluring woman he’d ever known. Just one look and his erection filled his britches. She could do it across a crowded ballroom, too!

  ‘Are you coming, Your Grace?’ she asked and looked over her bare shoulder in such away that Thomas found himself scrambling out of the coach like a randy adolescent.

  ‘Soon!’ He murmured. He was almost embarrassed at his haste, but not quite as she waited for him and then tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow in such an intimate way he felt his heart pound in his chest. He proudly escorted her up the steps to her ducal mansion and her butler, Davis was waiting at the door.

  ‘Good evening, Your Graces.’ Davis said sombrely as he bowed for their entrance. Victoria kept a very formal household and Thomas was careful not to upset the equilibrium of her life.

  ‘Good evening Davis.’ She said calmly. ‘Did

  Edward get off to sleep quickly tonight?’

  ‘He did, Your Grace. The Duke had his bath as

  usual and Miss Stains read to him for an hour, during

  which he fell asleep.’

  ‘Good. I would like some brandy in the informal

  drawing room and then you can all get off to bed.’ ‘Of course, Your Grace.’ She smiled sweetly at

  Davis and turned for the small parlour at the front of

  the huge house. She opened the door herself, because

  the footman wasn’t paying attention and as he closed

  the door behind them, Thomas heard Davis telling the

  unfortunate footman off for lack of attention. ‘So, my love. Are you going to tell me now what

  happened to poor Kitty’s gown?’ she asked softly as he

  walked to the fireplace. He knew there would be no

  touching her until the brandy had been delivered, so he

  watched her gracefully sit down on the settee and

  arrange her skirts. He could picture the silk stockings

  and garters and turned his face away to clear the vision. ‘Wittering was talking with his hands again and

  he made one expansive gesture too many and the

  contents of his glass landed on the front of Kitty’s gown.

  The impudent rascal has at least offered to replace the

  gown.’ Thomas watched Davis quietly walk into the

  room, place a silver tray complete with decanter and

  goblets, down on an occasional table and withdraw

  without a word. ‘May I?’ he asked and indicated the

  spirit. Victoria nodded. He walked over and splashed a

  little of the amber nectar into a glass and sipped it on

  his way back to the fireplace. ‘It’s unfortunate that

  these accidents keep happening to Kitty.’

  ‘Does she do it deliberately, do you think?’

  Victoria asked a slight frown on her forehead. ‘No. I’ve seen it too many times. Every single

  time it’s just carelessness by the other person. I won’t

  even say man, because Lady Verity Montague spilled

  champagne on her gilt slippers a week ago.’ He shook

  his head sadly. ‘I feel very sorry for her.’

  ‘She’s left her coming out rather late,’ Victoria

  observed, ‘it would probably have been easier if she’d

  been younger.’

  ‘I can’t disagree with that assessment, but Kitty

  wouldn’t even hear of it while Charles was in Spain.’ ‘How is Charles? He didn’t look well tonight.’ ‘He tries to hide the pain, but he doesn’t always

  manage.’ Thomas swirled the brandy in his glass.

  ‘Anyway, I didn’t want to talk about my children.’ He

  threw the contents of his glass down his throat, placed the glass on the mantle and turned to the woman on

  the settee.

  He walked purposefully towards her and

  dropped to one knee. He took her hands in his. ‘I’ve

  never done this before. But I would like to ask you to be

  my wife.’ He said softly.

  ‘Why haven’t you done this before?’ she asked

  intrigued.

  ‘My marriage to Christina was arranged while

  she was still in her cradle. It was accepted along with

  the title. I had no choice, just like you didn’t.’ He smiled

  at her tentatively. ‘Please? Make me a happy man?’ ‘You seem content as you are.’ She said distantly

  and he knew she was weighing up the pros and cons. ‘Content, yes. But not happy.’ He sighed, ‘you

  would make my life complete.’

  Victoria Bertrand looked at the man she had

  been enjoying for the last year. He was methodical,

  cautious and careful. If he wanted to marry her, he’d

  already weighed up her son and his heritage.

  ‘What happens to this house, if I say yes?’ she

  whispered.

  ‘I would say that we would be very happy here.’

  He said and smiled gently. ‘I would not force you to

  change your abode, Edward would find it unsettling and

  this will be his inheritance. My house will belong to

  Charles eventually, so he’ll always be there.’

  ‘But like Edward, he’s going to need training.’

  Victoria said calmly.

  ‘But he’s not a child.’ He said firmly. ‘Say yes,

  please?’

  ‘Take me to bed and I’ll tell you my answer

  before you leave.’ She whispered.

  Thomas swept her bodily off the settee and

  strode purposefully for the door. She turned the handle

  and Thomas hurried up the grand staircase two steps at

  a time. Edward was still in the nursery, so Victoria still

  occupied the ducal suite and Thomas kicked the door

  shut behind him.

  He carefully stood her on her feet and gently

  took her face in his hands. He dipped his head and

  brushed her lips with his. As usual her sensuality kicked

  in and suddenly she snaked her arms inside his jacket

  and stroked her hands up his back, rubbing her body

  against his in such a wanton fashion that he could feel

  her hard nipples against his chest even through the

  material of her gown. He clamped his lips over hers and

  plundered her mouth as he pulled the pins from her

  hair. It cascaded over his hands like a golden waterfall

  and he clutched handfuls of it against her back, pulling

  her even closer. He broke his kiss and traced his wet lips

  over her cheek, whispering her name like a prayer. ‘Oh!

  Vic!’ His fingers started to unhook the back of her gown

  as she stroked her hands over his chest, pushing his

  jacket over his shoulders. As he straightened his arms

  for the jacket to fall off, her gown swished to the floor. Thomas gasped as he looked upon the splendid

  sight of Victoria in her silk stockings and an almost

  transparent chemise. She smiled knowingly and reached for his cravat, carefully pulling on the leader to release the knot. ‘Do you like my new underwear?’ she asked coyly, backing away with the smile on her lips widening. Provocatively she pushed her silk gloves down to her wrist and then in a deliberate show, she pulled the silk from each finger, before whipping the glove off and

  letting it flutter to the carpet.

  ‘Does the notion I can’t wait any longer, mean

  anything to you?’ he growled as he ripped the cravat

  from his neck, wrenched open the first few buttons of

  his shirt and then yanked the whole thing over his head. �
��Can you at least wait until I’ve finished

  undressing you?’ she asked softly as her fingers tackled

  the buttons on the front of his britches. He touched one

  dusky nipple with his finger tip and the fastenings were

  opened as quickly as she could do it. Suddenly his

  erection sprang free, standing up tall against the flat

  plane of his abdomen. ‘My! You are in need, aren’t

  you?’ She murmured. ‘Why don’t you get your boots

  off, while I lie down?’

  ‘You can forget my boots!’ he said harshly, swept

  her up in his arms and strode to the huge ducal bed,

  almost tossing her into the middle and he climbed

  hungrily after her. He knelt in front of her, pushed his

  britches over his hips, put his hands on her knees and

  pushed her thighs apart. He slowly stroked his palms up

  her inner thighs, groaning as they passed onto her skin

  from the silk of her stockings. He looked in her eyes.

  ‘Are you ready for this?’ he asked gruffly. She bit her lip, to stop the huge smile that had been there a moment

  ago and innocently nodded her head.

  ‘Yes, Your Grace. I’m ready for my lesson in

  ecstasy.’ She murmured.

  He stroked his palms up her groin, his thumbs

  caressing her labia, followed by his tongue as it slowly

  licked the cleft of her sex. She moaned lifting her hips in

  supplication, as his tongue found her tiny clitoris and

  her hands flew into his hair. Thomas stroked his tongue

  with devastating effect from her vaginal opening to her

  clitoris in lazy circles. She moaned and gasped every

  time he flicked his tongue over her clitoris and each

  time he penetrated her orally she lifted her hips. He