The Theft of a Dukedom Page 7

  She looked at him sharply in the dim light and then sighed again. ‘Actually, no. Your father was exquisite and I was so sore I could hardly walk the next day.’

  ‘So I’ve something to prove then.’

  ‘Not with me. I already know what you’re capable of.’ She smiled lasciviously.

  ‘Ah! But four years is a long time, and I’ve been busy in the fleshpots of Portugal and Spain!’ he said jovially.

  The coach ride seemed interminable, but Charles could hear by the clip of the hooves that the horses were nearly galloping as they went down Bond Street. They slowed for the cross roads at St. James’s Street and Constance had to grab the strap to keep her seat.

  ‘Number 23.’ Constance said.

  Charles rapped on the roof and shouted the number. There was a clatter of hooves as the horses skidded to a halt and they could hear the driver urging the horses to move backwards.

  Eventually the footman opened the door and helped them out. ‘Wait for me.’ Charles ordered and followed Constance up the steps.

  It’s amazing how fast I can actually move when I have to!He thought as he limped along with her through the front door. Nobody was waiting for them.

  ‘Don’t you have a butler or something?’ he asked surprised.

  ‘No. I have a housekeeper.’ Constance said and turned to look down at his leg. ‘Can you manage the stairs?’

  ‘I can if I don’t rush.’ He said and limped to the wide staircase. In the end Constance wedged her shoulder under his arm and helped take the weight off his bad leg. By the time they reached the bedroom all they could do was collapse onto the bed.

  ‘Let me take your jacket.’ She said evenly, picked up his cane and took it to the dresser. She pulled out the chair and as Charles handed over his jacket, she draped it over the back of the chair.

  ‘Well! Where would you like to begin?’ she asked and smiled.

  ‘A brandy first, I think.’ She poured him one and he sat on the bed and sipped the aromatic spirit. ‘Now you can strip for me.’

  Constance reached up and pulled the pins from her raven hair and it cascaded down her back like ink. She walked towards him and lifted her leg, placing her foot on the bed. ‘I think you should help.’ She murmured as she reached for the hooks of her gown. Charles stroked his hand up her leg until he saw the garter, then he slowly pulled the ribbon open and slipped the silk stocking down until it gathered around her ankle. She placed her other foot on the bed and he did the same thing.

  She walked away from him and let the dress puddle on the carpet. Slowly she removed her slippers and the stockings. She smiled at him as she held the ribbon of her chemise. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather do this?’ she asked as she walked forward again. Charles drained the brandy and lobbed the glass over his shoulder onto the bed. He gently took the ribbon in his teeth and pulled, using his fingers to open the front wide, as her breasts bounced into his hands. He held the supple weight of them, as he abraded his thumbs over the nipples, making them erect and sensitive. He slowly slid his hands up her body and pushed the chemise over her shoulders and watched it fall to the floor. He smiled as her voluptuous body was revealed. He brought his hands back to her breasts and engulfed one of her aching crests in his mouth, while the other one received the attention of his fingers. He sucked and licked both her breasts until she was moaning.

  ‘Can I undress you now?’ she asked huskily and he nodded. She bent down and pulled off his boots first. Then she unwound his cravat and took it over to the chair. She walked provocatively, frequently glancing over her shoulder at him and as she came back he appreciated the swing of her hips and the sway of her breasts. She pulled his shirt out from his britches and undid every button slowly, and then she flicked it open, pushing it down his arms as she licked and sucked his nipples. When the shirt was off, she walked over to the chair and laid it over the back. ‘Now we need to get those off.’ She murmured. ‘Lay back and I’ll take care of it for you.’ Charles laid back on the bed and put his hands behind his head.Father was right. Let her do all the work!He mused. He groaned as she started on the buttons, slipping her fingers inside the material and smoothing the backs of her fingers over his throbbing manhood. As she opened the flap, she gasped as his huge erection was revealed. She smiled as she stroked her palm over the length of him. ‘Impressive. I don’t remember it being that big before. What have you been feeding it on?’

  ‘Spanish Donna’s!’ he growled and he felt molten heat burn in his veins as she lowered her head and slipped her lips over the aching, velvet head of his penis. He looked down to see her black hair spread across his thighs and stomach, effectively hiding what she was doing. She slid her tongue over the head and tormented him by licking and sucking it like a nipple. He groaned even louder when she rotated her tongue around the crest as her hand started to massage him from base to crest. ‘I won’t last long like this!’ he grunted as he thrust his hips up, but suddenly she was over him and guiding his member into her hot, wet passage.

  ‘Lie still, this won’t take a minute.’ She murmured as she lifted herself on his shaft. He clasped her breasts, kneading and pinching her nipples and she moaned and whined as she worked to a climax. Eventually he was heaving his hips up to meet her and then her orgasm arrived and she jammed herself down on him so hard he could feel the mouth of her womb on the end of his penis. He groaned as he flooded her womb with his seed. ‘Mmm. That was heaven.’ She murmured as she sat proudly on his manhood and stroked the muscular planes of his chest and abdomen. ‘So strong. We should take your britches off now.’ And she slid gracefully off his manhood and helped manoeuvre his britches off. ‘Maybe you should get more on the bed.’ She advised as she laid his britches over the chair.

  Charles shuffled himself around until he could lie with his head on the pillows. Constance retrieved the glass and poured another brandy for him, taking a sip before handing it over. She laid down beside him. ‘So what would you like to do now?’ she asked and Charles rolled on his side and stroked her breasts.

  ‘I’m sure I can think of something to keep you occupied until I’m ready again.’ He said with a wicked smile. He didn’t waste any time, but instead stroked his hand quickly over her pubic hair and parted her labia, so that he could stroke his fingers over her sex. It was satiny with his release and he found he could slip two fingers straight into her vagina. He emulated intercourse, by thrusting in and withdrawing, as his thumb circled delicately over her clitoris. She moaned and writhed, opening her legs as wide as she could. When her orgasm came he felt her internal muscles crush his fingers as she screamed in ecstasy. He forced her legs apart with his arm and other hand, keeping her coming as he continued to move. Her next orgasm was explosive and she shuddered and grunted until her body went lax.

  ‘God! You’ve been practising.’ She said dreamily.

  ‘I have at that.’ He mumbled as he gave her breasts his undivided attention. He sucked, licked and tormented them. He even pinched it in his teeth while he swept his tongue over the crest, making her moan and lift her hips. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked and she nodded. ‘Good. Get on your knees.’ He demanded.

  She smiled lazily and rolled on her stomach, lifting herself up and sliding her knees under her hips. Charles got behind her and taking his erect penis in his hand he guided it into her slick passage. He grabbed her by the hair and released his deepest desires, thrusting in harshly as he fucked her like a Portuguese whore. He held her abdomen with his other hand to keep her still. She moaned with every thrust and buried her face in the pillows as she spread her legs wider and pushed backwards to meet him. ‘Oh! Yes!’ she mumbled, ‘Harder.’ It inflamed his already uncontrollable need and he increased the speed. Suddenly he felt all her muscles tense as her passage squeezed him and he lost all control, continuing to thrust deeply into her cleft. As she passed the pinnacle she said viciously, ‘More.’ and he pummelled her again. He held her hips tightly, as his chest heaved with the exertion. He could feel his testicles
tightening and slid his hand around to her clitoris and abraded it firmly. He felt her muscles ripple as she climaxed again and felt his penis pulse with his ejaculation as she let out a muffled scream, her face still buried in the pillow. He jammed himself hard to the hilt as she sucked him dry. He collapsed on his side, panting and the wound in his thigh throbbed. As his breathing settled, he sat up and poured more brandy.

  Constance rolled over and gasped as she saw his back in the lamp light. ‘What happened to your back?’ she asked indignantly.

  ‘I had a mishap with a burning tunic.’ He said coldly and flinched as she stroked her hand over the twisted and ridged skin, it was still quite tender.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She murmured as she traced her lips over every ridge.

  ‘You don’t have to be sorry, Connie. It was a battle.’

  ‘What about the leg?’ she asked softly and stroked her hand over his left thigh.

  ‘Grapeshot across the back of my thigh.’ He put his brandy down and laid back on the bed, then turned over so that she could see his injuries.

  She gently kissed the massive trauma where the grapeshot gouged out a huge chunk of flesh and seared it. ‘What’s this?’ she said as she traced her lips over a long thin scar.

  ‘Sword. A nasty Frenchman stuck it in my leg at Talavera.’

  She rolled him over onto his back and inspected the rest of his body. There were more wounds on the front. ‘This one?’ she asked as she kissed his ribs.

  ‘Knife. I got that one night in the dark. I don’t even know whether it was an enemy or a friend.’

  ‘It must have been terrible.’ She said and snuggled up beside him. ‘So what are the Spanish Ladies like?’

  ‘Good fighters.’ He said and looked down into Connie’s eyes.

  ‘That’s a strange thing to call them.’

  ‘Nonetheless, it’s true. Their country has been occupied by the French. There aren’t many noble families that have got away without some form of disaster. Wives and daughters raped, fathers and sons killed and fortunes confiscated.’ He squeezed her shoulder absently. ‘Those that survived became the most vicious guerilleros you’ve ever seen.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘If they captured a French soldier and he needed interrogating, they used to turn them over to the women. A Spanish Lady could make a Frenchman talk and afterwards, she would cut his throat as an act of mercy!’

  ‘I can’t see an English Lady behaving like that.’ Connie said huffily.

  ‘You have no idea how you would behave if Napoleon marched up Whitehall.’ He turned and looked her in the face. ‘Although you would probably spread your legs with alacrity!’ She slapped his shoulder playfully and he turned his attention to her breasts again, filling his mouth with willing flesh instead of words. He rolled her on her back and covered her, forcing his knee between hers. She opened her legs with a smile and he thrust into her body with no finesse, just need. The desperate need to fuck somebody, it had been so long. He intended to do this until breakfast time.

  Chapter 6

  Kitty jerked awake, unsure of what had disturbed her. She scrabbled for the tinderbox and painstakingly lit the lamp on her nightstand. All she could hear was the hammering of her heart. The house was silent and she could see a block of moonlight on the carpet in front of the window. She didn’t draw her curtains in the summer and even had the window open an inch for some fresher air. She climbed out of bed and went to the door, opening it quietly and listening on the landing. She still heard nothing.

  She frowned as she closed her door and was walking slowly back to the bed when she heard a distinct moan. She stood stock still, like a startled gazelle, all her senses attuned for that sound again. She waited patiently and eventually it came again.

  It’s coming from outside! She realised in shock and went to the window. The bright moonlight bathed the garden in silver light, making the dark, humped shape on the lawn stand out.

  Kitty quickly thrust her feet into her slippers and shrugged a dressing gown over her nightgown, cinching the sash as she picked up the lamp. She silently opened her door and walked quickly along the landing. At the top of the stairs she could see Havers in the hallway dozing in a chair as he waited for her father to come home.

  I can’t go that way! Havers will want to know why I’m out of bed.She thought and turned around to go back to the service stairs. She lightly skipped down the stairs without seeing another member of staff, she hurried through the servant’s back rooms and arrived at the conservatory, where she set the lamp down on the table. She opened the door and walked out into the garden. She stood on the edge of the terrace looking at the humped shape on the lawn, wondering if she should disturb it or not.

  The body under the blanket twitched, jerked and then moaned again.It must be Charles.She thought. Daddy told me he sleeps in front of the fire in the drawing room though.Still unsure, she stepped onto the grass, her gowns soaking up the early dew as she walked purposefully to the body.

  As she got closer she could see it was Richard. ‘Oh!’ she said suddenly. ‘It’s you Lord Richard.’ To which she got no reply, as he was deep in the nightmare of a battle. ‘Lord Richard?’ she spoke louder, but still got no response. She walked right up to him and placed her hand on his shoulder, but before she could open her mouth to speak again, his arm swept out from under the blanket and scythed her legs from under her. She landed on the grass with a thump, grunting as the air was expelled from her lungs. Richard reared up over her prone form and his iron fingers clamped around her throat.

  Kitty suddenly became aware how dangerous it had been to try and wake him. She was pinned, vulnerable and choking. But, she still retained enough courage to lift her hand to his face. He was throttling the life out of her and she still caressed his cheek like a lover would. In the darkening recesses of her mind she knew that gentleness would alter his perception. So instead of struggling, she lay quiescent, except for her hand on his cheek.

  Suddenly he gasped. ‘Kitty!’ he croaked as he released her throat. ‘Oh! My God!’ burst from him as he realised who he was killing and felt her warm hand slide across his cheek as it fell away from his face. He could see her eyes had rolled up into her skull and he was terrified that he’d killed her. He quickly jabbed his fingers on the pulse in her throat and was gratified to feel it throbbing evenly. He gently massaged her throat and neck, and then he scooped her up off the grass and carried her into the conservatory. He laid her carefully on the large settee and reached for the ever present brandy decanter. Foregoing a glass, he put his lips to the neck of the carafe and up ended it, swallowing vigorously, his hands shaking so much that he could barely control the crystal vessel.

  His heart was still trying to burst out of his chest at the shock of seeing Kitty on the lawn and he was bathed in the sweat of panic. He knew Charles would kill him if anything happened to Kitty. Richard had spent hours listening to Charles talk about his little sister Kitty, especially while they were waiting for battle. He checked her once more, then went back into the garden for the blanket. He draped it gently over her inert form, pulled one of the wicker chairs around and sat down to wait for her to wake up.

  He sat and looked at her in the dappled moonlight and was astonished again at the beauty of her form. He’d seen some beautiful women in his life, his mother included, but Kitty was stunning. Even Constance Beresford couldn’t hold a candle to her, in his opinion. He studied her delicate features, seeing the resemblance to Charles in her nose. Like his, it was straight and finished in a point, rather than a button, but her cheeks were perfect, like a cherubs and her heart shaped lips looked so inviting he felt his manhood throb.

  Maybe I should have stayed with Charles he thought then we could have shared Constance Beresford, like we did those whores in Lisbon, Coimbra and Porto!He pictured Charles the last time, fucking her from behind while she sucked him off and the pair of them talking about the action.

  His focus returned to the innocent girl on the couch and he couldn’t ever picture her
sucking his cock, but his unruly cock could feel the slide of her tongue over the head and it was so vivid that Richard squirmed in the chair and fresh sweat broke out on his forehead. He reached for the brandy again and gulped more down his throat in an effort to banish such evocative thoughts from his brain. But he couldn’t stop the vision of thrusting his length into her hot, slick vagina.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Kitty whispered from the settee and he almost choked on the brandy as he jumped. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’

  ‘You scared me to death!’ he said forcefully, just managing to hide his guilt and restrain himself from shouting at her. ‘Didn’t your father tell you not to disturb Charles?’ She nodded slowly. ‘Then the same rules apply to me. Christ! I’m more violent than he is!’ he swore. He shut his mouth like a trap as he saw the first tear slide slowly over her cheek.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She reiterated. ‘I won’t do it again.’ She tried to smother the sob that followed her statement, but she couldn’t. The fear she’d felt as her world darkened had been very real and it made what Robin had done seem like nothing. She grasped the edge of the blanket with her trembling fingers and Richard suddenly felt ashamed.

  ‘I apologise for my outburst, Lady Amelia, but you did startle me.’ He slopped some brandy into a glass and offered it to her. ‘How does your throat feel?’ he asked softly.

  ‘It hurts.’ She whispered still as she sat up and accepted the glass.

  ‘Where?’ he asked as he stood up.

  Kitty took a small sip, set the glass aside and pushed the blanket down. She frowned at him sorrowfully as he crouched in front of her and then she straightened her shoulders as she made a decision. She pulled open the top of her dressing gown and loosened the first ribbon of her night rail. ‘Here.’ She croaked and touched her trachea gently. She lifted her chin for his inspection and again Richard felt the sweat break out on his brow.If Charles walked in now I wouldn’t be able to adequately explain why I was stroking his sister’s throat. He thought as he gently probed her gullet, sliding his fingers around her neck and checking the flow of her jugular.