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Chapter 57
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Her Honour for an Heir Chapter 58
I gasped and my head tilted upwards. He lavished kisses upon my bare skin, all whilst his single finger gently, sweetly probed me. As he released a torrent of wetness he let his own deep groan of desire. His finger circling my most sensitive little mound, sent urgent jolts of pleasure throughout my body.“Fitz, I have missed you, I have missed us,” I murmured, gripping his hair and breathing into his chest. “If this hurts you must say and I shall stop,” he rasped as his finger slid inside my most private place. It did not hurt much, only different. It still felt like the most natural, perfect sensation on earth. Shuddering in his grasp he gently caressed me into a quivering high. Drawing me out like teasing wool, his touch and swirling, circular motion had me whimpering into his body. My fingers clutched at his buttons, trying to open his shirt so that I could kiss and adore his bare flesh. His constant touch and affection left me gasping for breath, relentless pleasure searching eve
Her Honour for an Heir Chapter 59
The next month was utterly blissful. We soon fell into a happy routine. I shrieked with joy when Fitz showed me the manor had a stable attached. A young local lad named Jacob, only twelve, was in charge of looking after our horses. We had one each and a tiny fell pony for Eleanor when she grew older.My mare was similar to Amber and very sweet in temperament. I called her Felicity and soon adopted a habit of taking myself for long windswept rides. After feeding Eleanor in the morning the summer meadows beckoned me forth. I would leave father and daughter content in the gardens, and examining flowers. Fitz talked to her as if she was a small adult, explaining in great, exaggerated detail the differences between tulips and posies. She babbled back, as though fully understanding as I arrived back red-faced and delighted with the world.The riding and continued feeding somehow aided my recovery from childbirth. The strength required by my body to trot and gallop across the winding meadow
Her Honour for an Heir Chapter 60
The honeymoon period only extended, month after month. Summer ebbed leading to autumnal nights. The darkness outside and roaring fire saw many a night spent on the large sofa close together. I would lay with my head on his lap reading as he did the same. Without judgement or expectations of others we were able to find our own ebb and flow. We did not live in constant contact. I adored my riding, Fitz loved to fix and engineer solutions to anything. He was quite the hero in the local town. He was seen as the local engineer rather than the landlord and out-of-towner. We purposely did not communicate with the outside world. I knew Marie would be anxious for a letter but it was too great a risk. Someone like Henley, still working for Edmund could chance to manipulate Marie into giving information. It was better to vanish entirely. Fitz had not heard from his brother since returning northwards to claim me, however they had agreed between them for him to visit at Christmas. They did not
Her Honour for an Heir Chapter 1
On my wedding day I was a nervous, terrified virgin. Three years on I remain untouched, the nerves replaced with resentment. Seething anger that my husband, a man almost thirty years my senior, has thieved the youthful life I could have enjoyed. Quieter in nature he prefers to spend his months sequestered away in his study at Tarrick Hall. His months are my months. As the dutiful wife, Vanessa, Duchess of Tarrick, I go where he goes. Each autumn I beg for us to head down to London for the Season, to have a fleeting taste of life and excitement amongst my peers. The Season lasts from November to July. Last year I managed just a few balls in March. It was excruciating to conceal my desperation. To meet people from my generation other than my sister, hear laughter peal around a crowded room. Last season the gossip rags referred to me as the “missing Duchess,” a line that always made the Duke chuckle cruelly at our shared breakfast table. Today, like every other I am sitting in quiet c
Her Honour for an Heir Chapter 2
I need air. Summoning Marie, my maid, I donned a burgundy riding habit, my brown hair tightly wrapped in a bun. Marie was a stout woman, ruddy faced and tolerated no nonsense. She saw no reason for me to ever complain as I was the lady and she the servant. No confidence was shared between us. She merely dressed me, emptied my chamber pots and moved to the next task.My riding coat was heavy and formed a wide skirt over my legs so I could ride properly. Even so it was a warm autumn day, knowing there were no visitors intended I undid the top two buttons, allowing the air to my chest.Side saddle when guests were here, keeping my legs demurely together. I ride like a man whenever I get the chance. Easier to take on the jumps over the streams and backs.I walk briskly, my boots crunching into the gravel drive. Heading into the stables, the warm scent of hay is comforting, a world away from the musty rooms of Tarrick Hall. Amber, my pretty honey-coloured mare whinnied merrily to see me. A
Her Honour for an Heir Chapter 3
The next morning at breakfast I was relieved to find Edmund alone. As soon as the servants poured tea and left, his china cup rattled down into the saucer and he spoke.It was not often he took pains to converse with me. Usually I watched his grey face, limp strands of fading grey hair nodding along with the newspaper and gossip rags he devoured. The paper remained crisply folded, he stared at me with his fingers steepled.“I believe I need to remind you of your duties as a wife, Vanessa.”“In three years I believe I have never caused you displeasure sir?”“I have never asked you for anything. There is a difference. This request is for your security as well as the estates. You know that if I were to die now, you would be in a poorhouse within six months unless your family rescues you.”“My family would never see me struggle,” I replied quickly, a flush of panic rising.“Until a child is born, my will contains a letter. A letter addressed to every gutter press in London, and your mothe
Her Honour for an Heir Chapter 4
Finally my mother and Kitty, sated with sweet tea and biscuits to kill a horse, were placed back into their carriage. With firm promises to write with our intentions for the season I waved, standing on the gravel driveway.To my left were the stables, where no doubt the irritating Fitz was smugly anticipating tonight. He declared he was doing it for his own amusement, as though I was to be some sordid tale he could brag about in a gentleman’s club in later years.So casual, so easy-going. I was wound tightly, fit to explode. The mechanism inside me, the one that kept me stationary and suspended in boredom for so long had broken it’s catch and now I itched, ached to be active. I weighed up going to the stables, if only to trade barbs with him again. Maybe I would win this encounter. Currently I believe we are even. My slap for his trickery of yesterday.Knowing this would be unwise I walked the other way. Down the driveway, the same way my mothers dark, gilded carriage with two horses
Her Honour for an Heir Chapter 5
To my surprise the room is warm, lit by a roaring fire and surprisingly inviting. Edmund must have arranged this, to make the experience less miserably cold. The first thing my vision landed on was the huge bed. Unwrinkled, perfectly starched white sheets beaming at me.The images of lewd women, eyes rolling, breasts exposed rose up in my memory. Was this to be my fate tonight? “Good evening Your Graces,” and I realised Fitz was standing behind us, leaning against the wall. He had his sleeves rolled up, his white work shirt unbuttoned by one to reveal a hint of light brown chest hair on his broad chest.He had one foot up, resting on the wall. So impossibly casual I wanted to throttle him. Had he no idea how much torment I had been through to even be standing here tonight?“When you have completed breeding, knock on the door twice. I shall then come through and inspect. I won’t be fooled Fitz.”“I assure you, I have absolutely no intentions of fooling you, Your Grace,” Fitz replied,
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