

AUTUMN KNIGHT

Copyright November 1, 2019

Published by Autumn Knight at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This e-book (Marriage Minded) is licensed for your enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then return it to Smashwords.com or your favourite retailer and purchase your copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author Autumn Knight.

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

MARRIAGE MINDED

Look for other books

by

Autumn Knight

Dancing with the Dragon

All About Love

Resisting Temptation

Love Without Reservations

Isabella

Marriage Minded
Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

About the Author

_DRAKE AND MARY'S STORY_

###  Chapter 1

"I need an heir."

"Things can't be that bad, surely?" Drake looked at the man sitting across from him. Brent the Earl of Ashford was not only his cousin but his best friend and confidant.

"They most certainly are. Margaret's latest brat died."

The two men contemplated their drinks.

"What kind of wife do you need?" Brent finally asked.

"Unassuming, will stay quietly at the manor and not interfere with...," he looked around the study. "Well, with all of this, and of course a proven breeder."

"Drake, a proven breeder?"

"I don't want a simpering virgin." He declared, downing the rest of his drink even as he bound out of his chair and moved over to the drink cabinet. Turning he held up the decanter half full of his favourite scotch. At his friend's nod, he crosses to refill Brent's crystal tumbler.

'If I can find a woman of means, with a brat or two of her own. I can set her up on the estate and breed my get on her, and make it back to town by next season."

"Heard Mary Aims is widowed and she has what?" He thought for a moment. "A boy, or boy/girl I think."

"The dumpling..." Drake interrupted sat back in his chair. "Last I heard Simpson was expecting their third," Drake said with a thoughtful look. "She's not hideous, just..."

"Stout, my mother calls women like Mary stout."

"I was thinking soft or doughy."

"Regardless, she gave Simpson an heir and runs that estate like a fiefdom."

"Are the children healthy?"

Brent shrugged. "Never heard Simpson complain." Brent set the glass down. "You do remember what happened when they married?"

Drake snorted and shook his head. "Bloody fool was like a lovesick pup. Never saw the like."

"He claimed she made his life so wonderfully pleasant; he had no desire to return to town."

"That doughy little thing? Ridiculous!"

"Simpson left her and his heirs well feathered." Brent offered.

"Who is looking after the estate."

"His uncle in Edinburgh. Roxburghe, or something like."

"And the dumpling is where?"

"Milton, I was thinking of looking her up m'self."

"Would I be trampling your path?"

"Not at all, was a thought only."

"You say Simpson was flush?"

"Are you in need?"

"No." Drake rolled the nearly full tumbled between his palms. "No. If I am to take on his get, I want to know they have their own inheritance."

Drake stood and moved over to the fireplace "I have the Barony and all the rest of the appellations. Which would serve if I needed to provide for their boy."

"I heard Simpson had his finances and inheritance will in hand, he was savvy with his investments. But don't take my word for it. See Roxburghe, he's the uncle handling Simpson's finances and is the boys' guardian."

Drake pondered Brent's' suggestion. Mary Aims Simpson was amicable or had been when she was in town for her season. And with his younger sisters' latest loss, well it was incumbent he got on with providing an heir for his family.

"Fancy a trip to Milton?" Drake never one to dither, asked his cousin and best friend.

### Chapter 2

Taking the North road out of London the two men were soon galloping across green fields and up over knolls. At Cambridge, they took rooms at The Eagle, one of the oldest and well-heeled establishment in the shire.

With rooms procured, Drake sent off a courier to Mary Aims Simpson for an audience the following day.

"Marquess of Woodbury and the Earl of Ashford." John her butler announced as Mary tucked her mending aside, popping up out of her seat and checked her appearance in the gilt parlour mirror hung discreetly inset in a corner nook.

After fixing a pin, she gave John a nod. "Very good m'lady." And went back to the entry to bring her guests to the main parlour where she awaited their arrival.

Mary privately admitted to her curiosity. There could only be one good reason for her to have two such distinguished visitors so soon after her period of mourning ended. They needed a chaperone for a relative.

She thought of the letter she began to pen this morning, to her late husband's uncle and her children's guardian.

The only thing Roxburghe had asked of Mary, was that she would let him know of any proposals so that he could have them investigated. He didn't want any ne'er-do-well finagling their way into his nephews' lives.

Mary heartily agreed and even going as far as to have said she would suggest that any proposal needed to be directed to Roxburghe himself.

But! She knew these two were not here with a proposal.

She gave her reflection one last look and moved to the centre of the room, composed she knew she presented the perfect picture of a dowager, the perfect companion for a young lady setting out on society.

Mary gave the gentlemen who entered her parlour a small dip curtsey. "Milords." She nodded to the two very good-looking men and waved a hand to be seated.

Followed promptly by John and her housekeeper Helen, once the tea service was set up and cups at the ready. Mary gave her staff a moment to depart.

Having briefly met during her season and on a handful of social occasions, she was familiar with their names, if not so much their faces. She took this moment to discreetly familiarize herself.

Giving them a polite smile, she thanks them for coming such a long way to visit.

"Not at all, should have done it sooner really." Brent, the Earl of Ashford admitted. "Very sorry to hear about Simpson, such an agreeable fellow."

Drake, the Marquess of Woodbury nodded once in agreement and continued to openly study Mary. She nearly fidgets under his scrutiny.

She quickly riffled her memory for his family, wondering which young lady connected to him that could be of age to come out.

She thanked the Earl and rather than ask, she began to pour out the tea.

Lifting the sugar and tongs to looked at the men.

"Just so." Answered Brent.

Drake waited for a beat and then asked for a whiskey. Dropping a lump of sugar into the teacup Mary gave it a gentle stir and got up to hand it to her guest, smoothly moving over to the sideboard and poured out a measure of whiskey into a crystal tumbler. Handing the glass to the Marquess, she gained her seat and took up her own teacup in one smooth motion.

Drake impressed despite himself, took a small taste of the beverage and set it on the side table next to him.

He didn't want his future wife thinking him a drunkard. Drake took her measure; she was utterly unflappable.

"How are the children doing?" Brent asked. "How many are there again?"

Her pretty green eyes lit with pleasure as she turned her attention to Brent. "Three, three boys, all growing like weeds." She blushed and then answered his first question. "Children are resilient I guess, they were upset that their father was not here for the first while, then they seemed to just accept that he would not be."

She looked away in reflection for a moment, "only Henry the eldest was saddened the longest." She quietly admitted. Shaking her head, she gave them a small smile and took a sip of the tea, before giving them both an inquiring look.

"What brings you too far off Milton?"

Drake admired her resilience; she was no simpering miss. Rather a woman who well knew her worth, and comfortable in it.

Stout, she may be, but she moved with grace, and ease that spoke of a woman of action. Her dress was obviously of French design, a dark blue taffeta, no frippery, just a delicate collar to frame her heart-shaped face, with a little pointed chin. Cinched waist, with nice wide hips and generous bottom. He was certain she did not use any padding. A slender bit of braiding on her sleeves and serviceable uplift in the front of her dress to improve movement.

Her mahogany tresses were swept up into a chignon, with a couple of curls on her clear forehead. Drake could easily see Mary presiding over tea at Newbattle Hall.

Her skin was a pock free, milky white, her figure handsome, breast abundantly generous for nourishing his children. Most important of all, he found he was more than a little attracted to her.

Sitting forward he looked at Mary and drew her attention in his direction.

"I find myself in need of a wife." He admitted.

Mary's eye's widened at the Marquess's direct comment. "Pardon me?"

"A wife, I need to produce an heir. I am sure you must have heard that we have been unfortunate in the loss of my nephew." He watched as she nodded.

"I am sorry. Your sister must be devastated."

"This is the fourth child they have buried; they have both been told that it is not possible to have a live child and yet they continue to try." He looked away and then back at her.

"I am twenty-eight and it is time I took a wife and produced an heir. I would like you to marry me, Mary Aims Simpson."

Mary felt the cup in her hand rattle in the saucer. To give herself a moment, she grasped the handle, and took a sip of the tepid tea, and carefully placed the nearly full cup on the serving tray.

"I thought you came because you needed a companion for a relative. You have caught me unawares."

"You must know that matches like our are often made out of necessity?" Drake asked.

"Of course, Simpson and I were just such, it grew into a union of respect." She admitted. "I have agreed to let Lord Roxburghe handle such arrangements," Mary confessed.

"Only if you are agreeable, I will contact him?" Drake persists.

Mary studied the handsome Marquess for a moment.

"Yes." Mary could feel a blush stealing up her neck and into her cheeks. She was far past the blushing stage. She grimaced at her behaviour and straightened her spine. Mary dropped his penetrating gaze and "I will not leave my children," her eyes flash at the thought.

"Of course not, I would never expect such a thing. Your maternity is the very reason for this visit. Simpson boasted of your wifely attributes, only overshadowed by your mothering abilities."

"Oh well, my late husbands' allusions are appreciated." Mary demurred.

Drake felt a smile tugging at his lips at her dry sarcasm. The dumpling was no shrinking violet!

With a promise to return with a signed wedding contract once Roxburghe confirmed the nuptials, Drake and Brent departed for Cambridge and then on to London.

Mary watched out the windows of the parlour as the two rode away, flummoxed at the recent events.

"Who would have thought." She murmured to herself.

"Momma cook said your guest have gone."

"And so, they have, let us go find what your brothers are up too hmm."

"Oh, they are helping Binney put out the flowers."

"Really?"

"Yes, we helped arrange them." Her eldest son Cedrick boasted.

"Well, aren't you gentlemen little worker bees."

Her son wore a concern looked when he stopped in the hall and turned to look up at her.

"Cook told Binney you were marrying to the Marquess."

Mary stared at her son, consternation filling her from top to bottom, letting out a frustrated breath she looked at her son. Having lived with servants all her life, she should not be the least surprised that they would know what took place in the parlour. Still, it wouldn't do to gossip in front of the children.

This son, who one day would care for these lands and his family, this was an excellent moment for a life lesson.

"The Marquess has requested my hand in marriage. He will now speak with your uncle, to ensure Drake Woodbury will be a proper match for me."

"One day you too will meet someone you want to spend your life with, and will have to speak with her family." She led the boy over to the stairs and they each took a seat. "You live a very transparent life, my boy. We have many people around us at all times, your conduct is being watched and scrutinized at all times. Take this moment and remember it. Not even a proposal of marriage is private. All these walls and doors have ears, they know what you are about at all times." She thought for a moment at his puzzled look. "I was in the parlour; the door was closed and yet Cook told Binney about the Marquess's proposal. You think about that, and remember this moment." Mary advised.

Cedrick nodded, but now with a more considering look on his face. They stood and brushed off their clothing and made their way to the kitchen, Cedrick stopped and looked back at the open parlour door, before continuing to the kitchen.

Mary found Helen, Cook and Binney with their heads together, even as her other two sons, sat at the table happily munching on sugar cookies and milk. Helen had the grace to blush at a look from her Ladyship. Before bustling away with an excuse to check the lantern levels.

"Thomas and Donald lets' go, off to the nursery for your naps while Cedrick finishes his lessons." Mary scooped a giggling two-year-old Donald up and into her arms, to kiss his neck. With Donald on her hip, she stroked a hand over Thomas's blonde curls and ushers the four-year-old out of the kitchen. "Cook a word after I get the boys down and Cedrick settled, please."

Not waiting for an answer, she sailed out the door and up the stairs to the nursery.

That night, Mary sat at her desk in her parlour, finishing off her letter to Lord Roxburghe, letting him know of the Marquess's proposal and her amenity to the arrangement.

She also included the children's drawings and Cedrick's own painstaking written missive. Roxburghe loved to receive the children's additions. Thomas was very proud of his sloppily written name signed at the bottom of his drawing.

It wouldn't do, for the children's guardian to think she was shirking her duties in teaching her children proper etiquette.

With the letters enveloped and addressed she took it down to the front entry for delivery in the morning. Back in her bedroom, Mary took stock of the day and what it all entailed.

She had heard that the Duchess of Melbourne had lost her child again, she did not realize the Marquess was hoping his sister's child would be his heir?

Of course, he would want a wife to get his heir, but why her?

'At four and twenty, a widow and mother to three boys...Uhm, and there lies the reason. Her son's!'

Mary moved over to the cheval mirror and looked at her figure from head to toe. Undoing the buttons at her throat she slipped off the navy-blue dress, one of her favorites. Laying the dress on the armchair, she kicked off her house slippers. Standing in her chemise and corset, she never wore an underskirt nor a bustle, her bottom was generous enough without this enhancement.

Pulling on the strings, she pulled them free from the corset, letting the loosened garment fall with a dull thud on the carpet. Pulling the chemise from her skin she straightened and slouched to loosen her muscled from being restricted all day. Her large breasts ache slightly from being set free. Reaching under the chemise she pulled down her drawers and tossed them on top of the corset. The metal plates would be removed from the corset to be washed with the bloomers. Picking up the corset and drawers she set them on the table by the door for Binney to retrieve in the morning.

In her chemise, she washed her face and then brushed her teeth, rinsing with salt water, then mint water.

Sitting in the second armchair, she took up the crystal bottle of Parfum lotion, Simpson insisted she always had available to her. He loved to lounge on the bed and watch her evening preparations. When they were first married, she found his stares disconcerting, but over time, she learned this was part of their bed sport, as much as his kisses were.

When she pulled the laces on her chemise, loosening the fabric so her breasts spilt free, Simpson never failed to find this alluring. Sometimes he would even insist on her smoothing the lotion on her breasts over and over for him to watch.

Standing with the chemise open but still hanging from her shoulders, Mary moved back in front of the mirror. Pouring lotion into her hand she took up her right breast and stroke the flesh with the lotion, then doing the same to her left breast. Shrugging the fabric from her shoulders, she moved on to her arms, elbows and hands. Before gliding her crème filled hands over her hips and bottom.

This past year she forgot how erotic this felt, smoothing her hands over her skin. Putting her foot upon the chair cushion she moisturized one leg and then the other. She stroked up her neck and face to remove any excess cream. Before stroking a finger over her dripping centre.

And yes, she was wet, very wet. Wetness coated her fleshy inner thighs.

Moving over to the washstand, she cleaned her hand on the towelling. Moving around the room, she turned out the lights and climbed into bed to finish stroking her pleasure bud to completion.

This part of her marriage she missed; Simpson had been a generous considerate lover.

Would Drake Woodbury be as enjoyable?

###  Chapter 3

As promised Drake, the Marquess of Woodbury returned just over a fortnight, and as promised with a signed contract in hand. Mary was pleased to learn that Roxburghe had wrangled an income and an estate for Donald. Thomas had his own inheritance from his paternal grandmother, while Cedrick would inherit Simpsons title and the Milton Estate. All the children had been provided generous stipends.

For Mary she would forgo a dowry, rather she would be provided with an income of her own upon the birth of her first living son by way of the Marquess of Woodbury, with a two percent increase for every living child thereafter.

She gasped at the figures provided and looked up from the contract to her future husband, "this can't be right?"

"It is, Roxburghe is a savvy negotiator," Drake admitted, Brent just snorted into his glass as he lounged in the chair by the fire.

"Happy am I, that I conceded the field to you." Brent drawled. Drake glared at his friend while Mary looked between them in confusion.

"Am I missing something." She asked.

"Told the blighter I was considering laying my rose at your door." Mary looked at Brent in shocked wonder, then back at Drake. "His need was greater than mine," Brent muttered into his glass before downing the contents.

"Had no idea I was in such demand." She turned back to the contract. Once she was finished, she set it on her lap and looked up at the pacing Marquess.

"Now what?"

"Roxburghe insisted you needed to sign the second copy, and I have a special licence. We can be married as soon as tomorrow."

Taking the contract over to the desk, she signed both copies where indicated. Giving Drake his, she left her copy on the desk.

"I will let the staff know about tomorrow, should I have the Reverend summoned here?"

"I will take care of it; I would like to have you and the children moved as soon as arrangements can be made."

"Moved?"

"Yes, to Newbattle Hall, my estate."

Mary nodded. "I can be packed and ready in two days."

"Good, we will leave in three days time, one for the ceremony, and two for packing?"

"Yes." She stood with her hands clenched. "How long is the journey."

"Two by carriage, I will arrange for the horses along route." Drake stopped pacing and studied Mary. "Can either of your older boys ride?"

"Cedrick and Thomas have ponies."

"That's fine, I will arrange a mount they can share, no boy wants to be cooped up in a carriage for two days." Mary looked to protest. "You needn't fear m'dear, they will ride one at a time between Brent and I."

Nodding, Mary moved over to the desk, picked up the contract and walked out of the parlour without a word.

"Well, that went smashing," Brent smirked at Drake.

###  Chapter 4

"You may kiss your bride Woodbury." The Reverend March instructed.

Drake placed his hand on Mary's hip and pulled her in close, leaning down he bussed a gentle kiss on her lips and then released her.

Her boys held back by Cook, Helen and John, let them loose to swarm their mother. Drake smiled at the well-behaved happy boys.

Leaning down she kissed each of them, before directing everyone to the dining room for afternoon tea.

The only guest being Brent and the Reverend, all the rest to crowd into the room were Milton Hall staff along with the bride and groom.

Cook made individual sandwiches, cakes, and scones with jams and clotted cream since the children were not always the neatest eaters, they were taken to the kitchen to have their tea. The rest of the adults enjoyed the repast buffet style.

Mary and John carried a sleepy Thomas and Douglas up to their rooms, Cedrick thanked the Marquess and Earl before following this mother and butler up to the nursery.

With the children tucked up for the night, Mary rejoined the men in the parlour.

"I will be by to collect you and the children in two days, I have spoken to your butler about the use of your carriage and driver. Once we are at Newbattle Hall, your son's equipment and driver will be returned to Milton."

"Thank you, but I thought you would be staying here until it was time to leave?"

"No, we are in Cambridge and need to take care of a few more details." Drake leaned forward and kissed her forehead."

Taking up their coats and hats from John, the Marquess and Earl left into the night, leaving a perplexed Mary behind.

Thursday morning, Mary helped Nurse finish putting the last of the children's overnight bags under the seat of the wain filled with trunks and furnishings.

"Bloody hell, what is all this?" Drake demanded as he rode up with two small horses trailing his.

"The three trunks at the front are mine, the three at the back are each of the boys, then the toys. Plus..." Mary blushed and waved at the overstuffed wagon.

"You owe me a pound." Brent grinned leaning forward with his hand out at Drake.

Drake ignored Brent and instead rode up next to the driver of the wain, to give his instructions. The driver gave a whistle and the wagon began to lumber out of the yard and on to the road.

Sliding off his horse Drake handed the reins to the waiting groom. Still holding the leads to the small horses, he brought them over to the carriage, where the children waited.

"Who is riding?" He asked Cedrick and Thomas.

Both boys stepped forward.

"Be warned, you are going to have a sore arse by the time we reach the first inn?"

"Poppa said I got calluses on mine." Cedrick proudly declared.

Drake laughed and swung Cedrick up onto the first horse. "Good to know." Drake patted Cedrick's knee before he moved back in Thomas's direction.

"Well, horse or carriage for you young Thomas?"

"Carriage, nurse has samiches." The young boy declared.

"I think I want to sit with nurse." Teasing Brent sending the young woman a lecherous grin.

Drake helped the children's nanny into the carriage, handed in Thomas, once she had the child situated, he handed in Douglas.

When Mary moved to mount the step up, Drake stopped her and tipped her chin up, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "Good morning wife." He said quietly. Before taking her hand and guiding her into the carriage.

Mary busily arranged her skirts, avoiding the eyes of all the watching servants.

With the door closed and the remaining horse tied to the back of the carriage, Drake called to the driver to move on.

Mounted up the three riders followed the carriage out of the yard and onto the road.

At Littleport, the carriage stopped to change horses and give the women a chance to refresh themselves. Just before Southery, they caught up to the wagon, and the entire group changed direction heading east. Stopping for the night at Mothwold, Drake arranged for the Inn to take all nine of their party. He wanted the drivers well-rested, however, both drivers declined to sleep in the Inn, admitting they would prefer being close to the equipment, and opted to bed down in the stable.

With everyone fed and assigned beds, they had an early night and an even earlier morning thanks to Douglas. Mary slept with the bed in her room pushed against the wall and Douglas on the inside, so that he would have to climb over his mother to get loose. He decided that the water pitcher placed to close to the foot of the bed looked much better smashed all over the floor.

Still, in her travelling dress and stocking, a half-asleep Mary kept a crying Douglas on the bed, while the Inn keeper's wife swept up the glass shards, and mopped up the water.

Once the room was put to right, and a new water pitcher retrieved with warm water this time, Mary got Douglas washed up and changed, before tackling her own absolution.

She went next door and retrieved the other two boys from Nurse. Once they were washed and dressed, the entire party trudged down to the common area for a breakfast of buttered bread, rashers, and eggs.

Once everyone had eaten, gone to the privy one last time, they mounted up and rode out to the main road. Drake was pleased to see Cedrick back in the saddle.

"Not sore eh," Brent asked the boy, even as he stretched out his own back and shifted in the saddle. The boy only grinned and raced off.

"Little shite." Brent grinned at Drake and race off after the boy. Rather than taking off after the riders, Drake angled his horse up along Mary's side of the carriage.

"Does Thomas want to ride with us?" He asked threw the open window.

"May I momma?" The excited boy asked. At Drakes' direction, the carriage stopped and they untied the extra horse. Drake got Thomas situated and then signaled for the carriage to move on. Thomas and Drake rode their horses just ahead of the carriage. By Munford, Thomas had enough of riding and returned to the carriage, while Cedrick switched to Thomas's mount.

Dinner time found a weary group turning up the drive to Newbattle Hall just south of Norfolk.

Cedrick admitted to Brent that two days in the saddle were more than enough for his calluses.

###  Chapter 5

Servants lined the drive at Newbattle Hall.

The rider's well ahead of the carriage, allowed Drake to assemble his staff and they all stood at the ready to greet the arrivals as the carriage pulled around. With the step down he helped first Thomas and Nurse with Douglas in her arms, then finally Mary. Gathering the children and Mary around him Drake introduced his new family to the servants of Newbattle Hall.

Mrs. Sebat the housekeeper of Newbattle led Mary and Nurse up to the Nursery, while Drake gave direction to his butler to care for the Milton staff.

Mary was dismayed to find the children so far from her own set of rooms, with a frustrated housekeeper in tow, she moved along the family wing, redirecting the placement of the children and nurse, she finally let the housekeeper take her to her own rooms.

"Lord Woodbury has assigned Tess to be your ladies' maid." Mrs. Sebat informed Mary as the footmen brought up her trunks

"Thank you, Mrs. Sebat," Mary moved through the connecting door to find Lord Woodbury's room and himself talking with his valet. Drake stopped what he was saying and came over to Mary.

"I have moved the children to this floor and down the hall." She informed him.

"Perfect, it is the family wing after all, never understood why we were way at the other end of the house."

"Mrs. Sebat informs me that dinner will be ready when we are."

Drake looked around Mary at the glaring housekeeper. "Thank you, Mrs. Sebat, Lord Milton was looking forward to dinner. He may have mentioned it a half a dozen times the last hour of our journey." Drake's lips twitched with humour.

"Oh, Cedrick." Mary moaned low enough for his ears only. Drake smiled and tapped her nose. "No worries, Lord Milton was being egged on by Lord Ashford."

Mary nodded at her new husband and turned back to her rooms, only to be stopped by Drake.

"When you are ready my dear let me know and we will go down together."

She agreed and fled back to her room. With the door safely shut between them, she found the housekeeper had gone and a young maid in her room.

"You must be Tess." The girl bobbed a curtsy. "We are to go down to dinner right away. Let's take the dress from my travel case, it should be relatively wrinkle-free." Mary directed as she poured water from the pitcher into the basin. Using the washing cloth hung up next to the mirror of the washstand, she left it to soak in the warm water while she took off her dress.

"M'lady?" Tess looked at Mary helplessly. "I can't find your underskirts."

"Oh, right, sorry Tess it has been a while since I've had a lady's maid," Mary explained as she washed up. "I don't wear them. If I could get away with not wearing this, I would." Mary knocked her knuckles on the steel plates in her corset.

"Chemise, bloomers or drawers whatever you call them, corset and the dress," Mary explained.

"Of course, m'lady," Tess said as she bobbed a curtsy.

Washed, dressed and hair tidied, Mary sent Tess to let Mr. Parker, Drakes valet know she was ready.

Mary was surprised, once Drake collected her, they stopped and gathered the children. Even Douglas.

Simpson the soul of patience, but even he would not dine with a two-year-old. When Mary mentioned this, Drake laughed.

"We will eat one meal a week with the children, how else are they to learn manners if we do not set an example for them."

Nurse sat with Douglas to keep Mary's dress from ruin.

After dinner, Brent, Drake and Mary all surveyed the area where Nurse and Douglas sat.

"Perhaps I may have been rather optimistic," Drake admitted. While the maid scrambled to clean up the area. "Maybe luncheon might be a better choice, in the breakfast room, with bare floors." He conceded.

"M'Lord." One of the maids bobbed at Drake. He just raised an eyebrow at her. "M'brother has a highchair sir, we call it a..."

"Indeed." Drake cut her off.

"Well sir, it keeps his little ones closer to the table and it is not so..." The young maid looked around. "Messy. Sir." She bobbed again.

"Please ask your brother if he can make us one of those high chairs for Lord Douglas." Drake's request sounded nothing like a request. Mary watched him with raised eyebrows of her own. Before turning back to the maid and smiled.

"Thank you." She said to the maid, before taking her husband's proffered arm and leaving the dining room. When he moved to enter the parlour, she pulled away and moved towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Drake stopped her.

"To see to the children." She said with some surprise.

"That is why they have a nurse." He growled.

"Yes, and...?" He stood silently glowing at her. "I usually bath and read to them before bed," Mary explained. "And especially as this is their new home, I would like to see their routine is not disrupted."

Drake waved an impatient hand and stalked into the parlour, where Brent was already seated by the fire.

Taking the stairs Mary went into the children's rooms, Nurse already had the boys in the bath.

While Nurse bathed the boys, Mary sat nearby with a storybook and read to them.

Once the children were tucked into their beds, Mary moved to go downstairs, then thought better of it. In her room, she found Tess and several footmen filling a bath for her.

Beaming at her maid, she went around the now tidied room. Looking in drawers and closets making note of where all her possessions resided.

"Thank you, Tess, I felt done in at the thought of unpacking."

"It was my pleasure m'lady."

With the bathtub filled and the footmen have gone, Mary let Tess undress her, and she climbed into the tall copper tub. After Tess wash her hair, Mary dismissed the maid, and just luxuriated in the warm water.

When the water began to cool, Mary reluctantly got out and dried off. Tess had put away her dress and left her nightdress and wrapper on the chair. Slipping on the nightdress, Mary sat on the stool next to the fire and brushed out her still-damp hair.

A knock on the adjoining door to Drakes room had her up and clutching her hands together. Would her husband want to share her bed this night?

At Mary's invitation, the connecting door opened and Drake stood framed in the entry. He came into the room with a decanter and two glasses.

"Never having been married before..." Drake paused and poured out the port into the small glasses and handed one to Mary. "Well, let's just say I do not know of your expectations, nor you of mine." He held up his glass in a toast. Mary nodded and they both tossed back the beverage.

He laughed as they lowered the glasses. His eyes followed the tip of her pink tongue as it swiped across her lips, and his laughter died.

Taking the glass from her, he set it on the side table next to the chair she sat in. Holding out his hand.

Mary placed her small hand in his, and he helped her to her feet and they moved over to her bed. Drake stopped and turned to her, undoing the string to her wrapper he pushed the fabric from her shoulders and a breath hissed from his lips. Her sheer nightdress left little to the imagination, motherhood and the passing years have altered the young girl's lean curvy body he remembered to a more voluptuous, womanly silhouette.

Her generous bosom pushed large pink nipples forward tenting the fabric, with a deliciously lush curvy derriere flowing into generous hips. Her long beautiful hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back, pretty green eyes watched him with a little hesitation and anticipation.

Drake was glad he chose a more experienced bride; he didn't have the patience to go slow. These past few weeks, he avoided his mistress, in favour of holding out for his new bride. He wanted every chance of getting her with child as quickly as possible, the new season was only four months off.

His heart began to pound in his chest a little faster; She stepped forward and reached out looking up at him shyly with a slight infectious grin on her face; her eyelids slightly closed and pulled on the caveat at his throat.

He knew at that moment he was done for, he also knew that somehow God was smiling on him, for that look in her big green eyes promised pleasures he had not begun to dream of in his marriage bed. Having heard of women lying stiff and clutching the bedding while husbands did their duty. Here was his tiny, stout wife, looking at him in impatient delight.

Drake gently untangled her fingers from his shirt front and quickly divested himself of his clothing. With his pants unfastened, he swooped down and swept his bride into his arms and over to the bed.

He made a mental note to go out to the stables for the next few weeks and work with the horses. He was going to need the extra strength to move his new wife around.

Mary worked the nightdress up around her hips while Drake pushed his pants off. Crawling up the bed between her spread thighs, he grinned when she tossed the nightshirt away. His eyes traced over her, she had guessed his intent correctly, that he wanted to tear the nightdress from her.

The shock of her unveiling that gorgeous boson, had him groaning and hastening to latch on to the nearest teat. He laved and teases the nub while Mary gasped and squirmed, he switched to the other.

His arm reaching around embracing her waist and leaning forward, lowered his head towards hers and kissed her slowly and deeply using up what little oxygen she had left.

They kissed passionately for several minutes, at first slowly and deliberately, and then as mutual desire intensified, they began forays back and forth with tongues intertwining.

Mary felt her mind reeling; it had been so long since she felt this kind of overwhelming lust.

Drake slowed the kissing; all the blood was rushing away from his brain. It felt like his erection was filling and throbbing to burst, threatening to discharge prematurely.

He sat back on his heels, moved his hands from her waist, back down to her hips and around to her butt and gave it a big squeeze; her so smooth bottom filling his hands, hot! The fleshy tissue, making him pull her closer. He watched as his cocked bobbed in time with his ragged breaths, he watched her tits jiggle as he mauled her ass.

Pulling her thick thighs upon his thighs, he reached down between them, angling his cock.

Moving forward on his knees, he nudged at her entrance. With his glands caught in her channel, he grabbed at her hips again and began sliding Mary up his thighs closer to him. Even as he pulled at her, his cock foraged its way into her wet heat, all the while he watched as he breached his new wife for the first time.

As pushed forward foraging into her the last couple of inches, he nearly came undone, when the tight wet sheath wrapped around his thick cock rippled. His eyes flew up from where they were joined, to his wife's face. Mary's head was thrown back, heavy-lidded eyes nearly closed as she panted. Wriggling her hips on his lap, she managed to press up even closer to him. Then he felt the flutter again, followed by another, soon her sheath began to rhythmically clench and flutter around him.

Grabbing her by the hips Drake slammed into her and held still as his stones gave way and he lost all sense of time and place.

"Bloody hell woman!" He growled even as he shuddered, and he fell forward next to her.

After a time, Mary watched as he reached down and cupped his balls, and blew out a relieved breath.

Moving back a bit and turning to her side, she studied the man next to her.

Drake felt her stare and cracked an eye at her, even as he continues to hold his cock and balls.

"I thought for sure I blew my stones out." He finally admitted. Only to have her eyebrows raise and she looked at him in confusion.

"Are you hurt?" She finally asked.

Drake snorted and getting up on one arm he bent forward and gently kissed her surprised mouth.

"No, not hurt, but certainly drained. I think your quim sucked me dry." He pushed himself up into the pillows and pulled Mary into his arms. With her head on his chest and wrapped around him, he blew out a shuddering breath.

"I am not sure what you did to me, wife? But I can assure you that the next time, I plan to do well by you," Drake growled with determination.

Unfortunately, the time didn't come until two nights later. As often as Drake swived his wife the first two nights, he no sooner got into her tight sheath, and the fluttering started and promptly ended his good intentions.

###  Chapter 6

By the third night, he sat Mary down and had a firm talk with her.

"Mary I am not...bloody hell." Digging his fingers threw his thick dark hair he stopped pacing and faced his wife. "Mary, I have never had this problem before." He admitted.

"What is that milord." She innocently asked.

"Our bed sport..." He glared at her bed and then looked thoughtful.

"Am I doing something wrong?" Mary worried at her lip with her little white teeth, and Drake groaned in frustration.

"No, bloody hell. No!" He paced away and then back again. "Not a'tall m'dear."

"It's your quim." He waved at her lap. Mary's lowered eyes flew up to search his face.

Drake could feel a blush staining his cheeks, and was thankful for his mutton chops, hoping they hid the worst of his embarrassment.

"You are so fucking tight and wet, then you start that movement and all is lost." He complained.

"I'm sorry..." She felt tears welling and turned away.

"Bloody hell." He snapped and dropped to his knees in front of her and took up her hands from covering her tear-stained face. "I'm a bastard." He admitted.

"I ...fuck!" His eyes searching hers. "Mary, I need you to lay still, just until I can get going please?"

"I don't understand?" Her wet luminous eyes glowed like emeralds and he could feel his shaft hardening.

"Your quim sucks me when I get inside of you, its heaven. But I need to at the very least please you some." Drake explained.

Her head tilted slightly as she looked up at him in confusion.

"Then why don't you use your mouth?" She asked, perfectly serious. His eye's widened as he searched Mary's inquiring stare.

"I...oh...I." He stood up and stepped away and then back again. "You would be fine with that?" He noticed his voice had risen in his shock.

"Of course." She declared.

"Huh, I did not know...I didn't." Drakes' mind raced, was he not supposed to treat his wife with utmost respect and accord, different from his mistress?

Mary popped up from her seat. "Have you never?" She asked him in some surprise.

"Well, yes of course...just I didn't think a wife...Bloody hell!" He laughed, bent forward as if he was in pain. He laughed until he was wiping tears from his eyes. Only to find his wife glaring, with her arms crossed and tapping her toe.

Drake stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his bride.

"I think I like being married," he admitted to his still unhappy frowning wife. "this little set too, it explains so much." He declared.

"How so?" Mary asked even as she snuggled into his cuddling arms.

'Hmm, did one also discuss their mistresses with their wife? Even he was not that brave.' Drake thought to himself.

"Well, having an experienced wife, she would have some expectations, and never once did I asked you if you have needed me to...uhh...other than hump away at you."

"Oh," a pretty blush stained her chubby cheeks. Drake pulled back to look down at her face only to find it buried in his chest.

He used one of his hands to tilt her cute little chin up. "Do you want more than my cock and mouth?" She shyly nodded and ducked her face back down.

"Sometimes I like to be on top, hmm." She quietly explained to him, about morning sex, being taken from behind, sitting in his lap, she would like if he nearly chewed on her breasts while he fucked her. His favourite part was when she said she would like to suck on his cock!

Drake's dipped his head and let his lips rested on her cheek when she stopped talking and he slowly pulled away. Mary turned her face up and they stood there, lips only an inch apart, until Drake closed in on her, softly caressing her lips with his. His arms around Mary, pulling her up on her toes to better match his height. His tongue parted her lips and invaded her mouth where her tongue welcomed it playfully.

Mary's fingertips rake across Drake's shirt covered back, feeling his muscles and holding on to him as if her life depended on it. His hands moved down to her generous ass, which he caressed and squeezed lightly. He then broke his lips free from hers and started kissing her neck, nibbling behind her ear and making her emit high-pitched sounds of pure pleasure. Slowly he moved his head further down, kissing her throat while his hands cupped and caressed her full-sized tits with his thumbs brushing over the now hard nipples.

As Drake slowly moved away from Mary, the only sound in the room was the sound of their heavy breathing. They stood and looked at each other for a few minutes. Mary felt the juices escaping and drip onto her bare thighs and her eyes dropped to proof of Drake's excitement, it was a highly visible bulge in his breeches. Mary looked into Drake's cool blue eyes where there was a fire burning. He wanted her. She wanted him. Neither had any more words. Mary felt another tingle in her nether regions. She didn't care anymore. This was her chance to correct this wrong-headed relationship course.

She pulled the ties on her wrapper, exposing her luscious curves and big tits to the cool air. She then pulled her nighty up and off, giving Drake a chance to study her figure and her candlelit pussy. Neither spoke a word as she stood naked before him. His eyes took in every detail of her body. They moved from her feet, up her legs, past her soft thighs and her pussy to her slightly rounded tummy and then those generous breasts. They finally came to rest on her vivid green eyes.

He smiled an enigmatic smile and, without releasing eye contact, he unbuttoned his shirt. He then undid his trousers letting them hit the floor and he stepped out of them. He nodded at Mary and she moved up to him, knelt in front of him.

Drake's cock shot to painfully full attention as she studied him. Mary's looked at the magnificent tool in front of her. It was close to seven inches with generous girth. It was so smooth, with a few veins breaking out. The engorged thick head slick with precum, promising pleasure for a tight, wet pussy like Mary's. She slowly licked her lips as she looked up into Drake's eyes and saw the encouraging smile on his face.

She took him in hand, kissed his cock head before wrapping her lips around it. With her tongue she lapped up the precum and teased the little hole where it was leaking from. She moved her hand further down the shaft wrapped her soft hand around the powerful lance and her other hand gently cradled his balls.

She started moving her hand up and down his pole, slowly and methodically. The big, throbbing head was still in her mouth, being mercilessly teased by her tongue while her hand worked up and down the shaft that was so thick, she couldn't reach completely around it. Back and forth, she moved her hand, from the head to the nest of dark curls and back to the head again.

Mary pulled off momentarily and licked her lips slick, before taking Drake's cock deeper and deeper and she smiled inwardly as she heard his gasps. Looking up, he was enjoying this. His hands came to rest softly on her head, not forcing himself deeper down her throat, but encouraging her to take more of him into her mouth.

Mary kept sucking and teasing. The wonderful shaft in her mouth was sliding in and out across her tongue and lips. She could hear words of encouragement from Drake. She guessed by the tightening of his stones, that he probably didn't have far to go so she made a decision. As his cock slid inside her mouth again, she deep-throated him and was rewarded with a loud rumbling moan. She let him go and then deep-throated him again.

"Mary, oh Mary," Drake panted, "I'm going to spew."

She knew that he was warning her so that she could let go, instead, she increased her suction. She wanted to taste him. She wanted him to cum in her hungry mouth. She looked up and saw him watching her with fevered anticipation. She felt his cock twitching on her tongue, still she didn't look away, he finally released his load and she lapped up his juices and kept suckling until he'd ran dry.

He pulled her up and kissed her deeply. For what felt like several minutes, they stood there, her breasts pressed against his chest, lips against lips, tongues playfully exploring each other's mouths.

"Oh, Mary," Drake moaned against her lips. "Let me taste you as you tasted me?"

Mary never one to dither, eagerly hurried to the bed and sat on it. Drake smiled as he followed her. He took her back into his arms and soon they lay in each other's arms, hands exploring each other's bodies and mouths devouring one another. It wasn't long before Drake had her pinned on her back as he concentrated his attention on her tits. He cupped them with his hands and started kneading them. He kissed each nipple. He sucked at her nipples. He bit her nipples. Causing her to moan and thrust her chest up to his suckling lips.

Each new action that Drake made on her tits made Mary sigh with pleasure as her hand scoured threw his dark hair. Pleased his wife was so responsive, with one tit in his mouth and his hand taking care of the other, his lips and plucking fingers made Mary cum for the first time of their relationship.

Drake's lips trawled further south. He teased her belly button with his tongue and soon his lips were on the lips of Mary's pussy. He teased the insides of her thighs with his fingers and slowly parted her legs as wide as possible. He showered her with kisses as her pussy opened up before him like sweet, pink rose petals.

Mary gasped audibly as she finally felt Drake's lips on her clit. He teased her little nub with his tongue and then he sucked at it, much as he had done with her nipples. Then his mouth moved to her needy slit and he slowly entered it with his tongue.

Mary squirmed with pleasure; her breathing was getting out of control. The desire was so intense that it was almost painful. She thrust up at that tongue as it dug deep inside her. She moaned in frustration, as she felt him move away, only for his lips to nip and begin sucking on her clit as his fingers started pushing up inside her tight cunt, stretching and thrusting.

She let go of her grip on his head and began kneading her own tits. She wanted to wrap her legs around Drake's head, but the position of his body stopped her from moving her hips and thighs. She was at his mercy and it was the most exquisite of feelings.

By now he had three fingers pumping her and his hand was covered in her juices. He kept sucking her clit, teasing it with his tongue and sucking some more. She pinched her nipples hard.

"Mmmmmmmmmm... Draaaake," she moaned. "I'm there, please don't...more!" She cried out.

Her body convulsed in pleasure and her sheath contracted around the brutal thrust of his fingers. Her back arched and her toes curled as the waves of pleasure took control of her body.

It wasn't until the last shudder of release she was able to relax again and Mary's breathing calmed down. Drake pulled his fingers out, let go of her clit and slowly made the journey back up to face her. He stopped to kiss her sensitized nipples and then he lay next to her, his arms wrapped around her as he kissed her pretty lips.

"You taste so wonderful, Mary," he whispered in her mouth and kissed her again, breathes exchanged.

"It was wonderful for me too," Mary smiled and felt oddly shy, considering what they'd just done.

"I want more of you," Drake pressed his erection against her hip.

"Please," Mary turned to face him. "Take me, Drake. I'm yours."

Drake kissed her and got up on his knees his erect penis in hand and knelt between Mary's legs. He bent over and kissed her deeply. He caressed her tits and her waist. Soon his hands were back at her pussy and he touched her softly. Mary's gasp told him that she wanted this as much as he did.

She parted her legs wide and Drake leaned on his strong arms, a hand placed on either side of her. She reached down and guided Drake into her warmth and they both moaned with pleasure as he worked to bury his thickness deep inside her tight, wet channel.

He stayed still, buried to the hilt for what seemed like an eternity. He rested his weight on his elbows as he kissed her neck, her ears, her face and finally her mouth. Mary wrapped her legs around him, angling her hips to feel him deep inside. They kissed, ravaging each other with their tongues. Drake's chest felt strong and hard against Mary's soft sensitive breasts.

Then he started thrusting. Slowly they built up a rhythm where his thrusts were met by her willing hips. With each surge, he buried his cock deep inside her hungry cunt. With each thrust he felt himself go deeper yet and Mary made a sweet gasp as his pubic bone put pressure against her clit, while his helmeted shaft knocked at her cervix.

Pulling her in, he held her close and they rolled over and suddenly Mary was on top, forcing herself down on his thick juice covered length. Then they rolled over again and once more Drake impaled her on his hard shaft. They kept kissing and rocking. Neither of them wanted this to be over. But the pleasure was so great that not even the fact that they'd already made each other cum with their mouths previously was able to stop them now. Drake groaned her name as he felt the first flutter.

Mary's breaths got shorter and more intense. Her channel constricting, and the flutters grew into rippling waves.

Drake's pace had picked up significantly. He raised his body, leaning on his arms to be able to fuck at her harder and faster. Their wet union echoed in the room. Finally, Mary let out a high-pitched moan as her body writhed under his and this was is what sent him beyond the point of no return. He didn't think her tight cunt could squeeze him any harder, he was wrong, and he made a final thrust inside her and his cock twitched as he shot his load.

Drake collapsed on top of Mary and kissed her deeply as he willed himself to pull out of her welcoming heat.

He rolled over on his back next to her and they soon fell asleep in each other's arms. At some point during the night Drake woke up cold, he picked Mary up and pulled the covers back, crawling in next to his wife, he snuggled her into his hips and went back to sleep.

###  Chapter 7

The season was starting and he now knew for certain Mary was increasing.

For the last three months, the couple had found a rhythm to their marriage. Mornings they visited at the breakfast table. Following breakfast, while Drake met with his estate manager and various tenants. Mary began inventory of the house with Mrs. Sebat the housekeeper. After a shared luncheon, they again went in two directions, Drake to oversee business affairs, and Mary sat with Cedric while he did his school work and the younger boys had their afternoon nap.

Only last week had their routine shifted, at first, it was just tiredness and a little light-headedness, then the sickness came on with a vengeance.

Drake sat next to Mary and held a wet cloth to the back of her neck as she moaned in misery.

Only for her to roll over and dry heave into the chamber pot clutch to her chest.

He was becoming worried, no one could continue on like this and still carry a child to full term. And yet the doctor had been around and assured Drake that yes, his wife was increasing and the illness was perfectly normal.

Mary glared at Drake all through the doctor visitation, for she wanted a midwife and not the nodding gibit his Lordship summoned.

Finally, out of desperation, Drake hunted down his housekeeper Mrs. Sebat, with hopes of locating a midwife. Only to discover that there were none in the parish.

Reluctantly leaving his wife, he rode out that afternoon, with a promise to be back by dinner time.

Later that evening Drake appeared at Mary's bedroom door, still she laid in the bed, her lovely mahogany locks a tangled mess, and her sweat-stained gown clung to her fevered chest.

"I tried m'Lord, but she refused a tray," Tess whispered as they both studied the woman in the bed.

"Thank you, Tess, Mrs. Stewart will see to her Ladyship tomorrow," Drake assured the young maid.

"UP!" Barked a demanding voice, dragging Mary from her restless sleep. Mary lifted one eyelid to watch an older woman sail across the room and settle a tin on the table next to her bed. The woman stood next to the bed with hands clasped and waited. "Come along sit up." She commanded.

Mary reluctantly pushed the covers back and using her weakened arms and hands pulled herself up to a sitting position. When she would have swung her feet over, the woman tutted her.

"None of that now." She picked up the tin and handed it to Mary. "These are fresh soda biscuits, I just made them. Nibble one slowly, once it is down and settled, try another. Do not get up from this bed until you have eaten at the very least three of these biscuits each morning before rising." With that the woman marched towards the door, warning of her return with a breakfast tray and tea.

"Wonderful, Mrs. Stewart has been in to see to you." Drake beamed at his wife as he settled into the wingback chair by the fireplace.

"If you meant the dragon who appeared barking orders, then yes, Mrs. Stewarts was in." Mary held up a biscuit for his inspection before she returned to taking small nibbles of the salted square.

Drake wandered over and reached out for one, tasting it, he made a face and set it on the plate next to the tin. He watched as Mary finished the biscuit sat back and waited to see if she would have need of the chamber pot. When her stomach did not rebel, she took up another biscuit and made short work of it.

"What are you doing here?" Mrs. Stewart came sailing in the room, the door held open by Tess. The older woman glared at Drake. "Have you not done enough; does she look like she is up for visitors. Get along!" Mrs. Stewart complained even as she set the tray down on Mary's lap. Brushing off her hands, she made shooing motions for Drake to vacate the room.

Once the door was shut leaving only the women alone, Mrs. Stewart turned a delighted smile on Mary.

"Tess let us get a bath drawn, and a nice fresh morning gown for her ladyship shall we." Together the two women moved around the room and set out what they would need, while Mary watched from the safety of her bed sipping at the honey and lemon laced tea.

Soon the room was teaming with footmen first setting up the tub and filling it. Once Mrs. Stewart deemed all in readiness, she removed the tray from Mary's lap.

"I have Cook preparing breakfast for you of coddled eggs and toasted bread. A little on the dry side for this morning I would think. Get your stomach set right and for lunch we will try something a little more adventurous like potage shall we." Mrs. Stewart helped Mary out of the bed, and in no time, she found herself submerged in the tub. Her hair is washed by Mrs. Stewart while Tess, ran the washing rag under her arms and behind her knees.

Mary watched in bemused wonder as the two women, got her dried, dressed and her hair tamed. In no time a'tall Mary was making her way down the stairs and into the dining room as instructed by Mrs. Stewart.

She no sooner sat than, Cook placed a plate of one coddled egg and dry toast, along with a cup of honey-sweetened tea.

Mary much preferred cream in her tea, but with her sicking over and over again she didn't want to take a chance of starting it up all over again.

Instead, she took small careful bites of the toast and egg.

She no sooner took her first bite of breakfast and Drake took the seat next to her.

"How are you feeling Mary." His eyes searched her face for signs of distress.

"Better milord, thank you."

"I had no idea that increasing was such a ghastly business." He looked at her with some bewilderment. "And yet you have done this, three times previously?"

She gave him a sad smile. "This is the first time I have been so sick." She admitted. "All the other times, I felt a bit off, but never sick up."

Drake patted her hand lying on the table. "I appreciate what you are doing for me." He cleared his throat. "Just so. Yes, I am truly grateful and promise that should this be a boy, I will not trouble you in the future." He was not looking at Mary but studying the painting over the buffet.

"Pardon me?" She set down her fork and turned to give Drake her full attention.

"You are suffering all of this." He waved at her meagre breakfast, "so that I might have an heir. If you should present me with an heir, I will trouble you no longer." Drake stood, pushed in his chair, gave Mary a brief bow and left the dining room.

Stupefied she heard him call for his hat and coat. Then heard him leave the house by way of his horse galloping off down the drive.

Pushing away her half-completed breakfast, Mary got to her feet and went back up to her room. All this excitement had made her tired, and she was ready for a nap.

As promised Mrs. Stewart arrived at lunchtime with a bowl of potage. It was lightly spiced and delicious. By then Mary was regaining an appetite and thought even another serving of coddled eggs would be heavenly.

At Drake's absence during dinner, Mary declined to question the staff. Only after sliding under the covers and waking alone the next morning did she become concerned and then angry upon learning he had abandoned her for London.

### Chapter 8

Settling at her writing desk she sent a note to her husband. Letting him know in future she would require notice of his departure, and even more importantly his arrival times at the estate.

Drake read the missive and with a snort and tossed the letter in the fireplace. Mr. Parker only looked for a moment at the flame-licked page, before finishing his lordships cravat.

Once Mr. Parker deemed Drake properly dressed, he left his lordship to his sherry.

Drake had only been in London for two days and already he missed his new family. He dined with his mistress, but even she could not hold his interest. He left her house and made his way over to the club with hopes of finding Brent.

With the season in full swing, finding his cousin would be easier of he started at Ashford's Dellwood house. At sixes and sevens, he was making himself miserable and considered returning to Newbattle Hall.

The next day he was delivered another note from his wife, this one requesting he send her not one, not two, but three midwives for her to interview. Once selection was made, Mary wanted to set the woman chosen up in their parish, so that all the parish ladies have access to her services.

Not three weeks later another missive arrived, this one asking for Drake to return home and attend to his wife.

"Whatever could she mean by that?" He asked no one, as he tossed the letter into the fire. "I sent her the bloody midwives." He muttered.

Having ignored this last letter, he received a letter from his man of business a fortnight later, it seemed his wife required the hiring of a new groom.

Confused, missing his family and frankly frustrated with his wife's demands, he sent her a terse response. Demanding to know why she was needing a new groom?

His letter must have crossed paths with the one sent from his estate. For he no sooner sent off his letter when another arrived, this time from his estate manager asking why this new groom 'Mr. Darcy' was needed. The estate manager could not see how this new man would be any good for much of anything, except for his fine looks.

Drake frowns and tossed the letter on his desk and paced the room, only to be interrupted as another letter was delivered this one from his wife.

"Mary states that she is in need of this new groom since her husband has refused to attend to her needs."

Having read this last letter, Drake threw the letter on his desk with the other two from his estate manager and man of business. He turned to his cousin and brother-in-law who were both well supplied with brandy and patiently listening, as Drake explained the drama, he was now mired in.

"Hmm, I was considering finding me a wife, now that you are both shackled, not fancying the idea, so much anymore," Brent said before he drew on his cigar.

"That's just it, Mary is far from an irritant that makes you just want to bugger off," Drake said with some bewilderment. Taking a healthy drink from his glass.

Finally, both men looked over at the silent third and the only experienced married man in the room.

Edmond Beauford the Duke of Somerset, Drake's brother-in-law stood and moved to the sideboard to refill his glass, before turning to the other two.

"I have only one thought, and trust me when I tell you, you will not like it." His brother-in-law warned.

He had both Brent and Drake's full attention and still, Edmond hesitated.

"Bloody hell man, get on with it." Drake finally demanded.

"Whenever your sister has been pregnant, around the fourth or fifth month, she became..." He took a hearty drink from his glass. "She became manically lustful." He did not look at the other two as he admitted this.

Drake set his glass down with a thump. "What do you mean."

"What the hell do you think I mean. No matter the time of day, she shows up, with that look in her eyes, and I have her bent over the arm of the couch in the parlour." He ran a hand over his head. "Let me assure you an increasing wife is very hard work."

Brent snorted and gave Drake a wry look, both men looked back at the third. "How is that the issue here." Drake finally asked.

"You said in Mary's letter she needs you to come home and attend to her needs. Therefore, if you are not there...?" The brother-in-law never got a chance to finish.

"Fuck Hell!" Drake roared as he hurled his glass, shattering it in the fireplace. The flames erupted up the chimney at the added fuel, the Marquess of Woodbury, stormed off, calling out for his coat, barking orders for his horse. It was brought forward and without a word, to his guests Drake raced off into the night.

"I say!" Brent's shocked gaze moved from the library door, still swaying back and forth to the other occupant of the room.

"Well, that settles it, never getting shackled. Too bloody much work I say!" Brent groused and tossed back the rest of his drink and gave a violent shudder.

With the long ride from London to Norfolk, Drake had plenty of time to ponder this new dilemma in his marriage. Never once did Mary demand nor chastise him for leaving her and the children. Rather she asked politely for his return. Then she let him know that she needed him but had an alternative in mind if he so wished.

"Well, he bloody well would take care of his wife himself thank you very much." Drake muttered to his horse, as he turned up the drive to his estate. Bypassing the house, he went straight to the stables and pulled up short when a new person pushed open the main door.

Grinding his teeth, he slid off his mount and moved to hand over the reins.

"How can I help you, milord?" The younger man asked as he took the reins from Drake.

"I am Woodbury," Drake stated as he pulled the gloves from his hands. "You are?" Drake demanded.

"Darcy, milord," the young man touched his forelock.

"My wife's new groom." In the gloom of dawn, Drake stood back and surveyed the other man. He was a strapping lad, broad shoulders and curly blonde hair. Looking much like Simpson, well what Drake remembered of him.

"Where are you from Darcy?"

"Kirby sir."

"That so, not too far away then, is your family still there about?"

"Yes, sir."

"Pardon me for saying, but you don't look much like a groom Darcy?"

"Sir?" The young man blushed again. "No' milord, my family are sheep farmers."

The Marquess waved a hand. "No, your speech, you are obviously educated."

"Yes milord, my mother wanted all of her children to go to school, I was to join the church, but it burnt you see."

"Just so, I heard that, a shame." Drake held his gloves in both of his hands behind his back as he began to pace, deep in thought. Stopping he looked Darcy up and down, "No not a groom. Hmm, and you read of course?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Good. Do you fancy a position as a valet?" Drake watched as shock, gave way to surprised wonder. And then delight.

Darcy nodded, "Yes milord."

"You do understand, I would need to send you to London for the training of course?" Drake advised.

"Yes milord, just so." Darcy bobbed his head.

"Right then, let's get this fellow bedded down, he's had a good run." Drake absently waved at the horse. "Come and see me tomorrow morning, you can meet Cedric, Lord Milton. He is our eldest son and will be going away to school next year. By then you will have had enough training to go along as his man."

"Thank you, milord." Darcy grinned as he led the horse into the stable to be brushed, and fed.

Please with the turn of events Drake used his key to let himself into the house since what staff would be up, would be well at their own breakfast or preparation for the family's breakfast.

Halfway up the stairs, he heard Douglas's delighted laughter. Stopping at the new nursery he found Douglas bedevilling his nanny. Settling in the rocker Drake spent the next half hour visiting with the two-year-old, while Nurse made preparations for the other children.

Handing over the boy to his nurse, Drake made his way to his wife's room, just as Tess was about to enter. Stopping the maid from waking Mary, Drake sent her away with a promise to ring for her once her ladyship needed her.

###  Chapter 9

Mary wakes up on her back. She can't see anything, but she can feel the smooth blankets on her skin, and the drool drying on her cheek.

Why can't she see anything?

She can't remember the bedroom ever being this dark.

She tries to rub the sleep from her eyes, but her arm won't come to her face. 'Hmm, maybe I slept on it and it's gone numb.' She remembered doing that last week. She is sure it will wake up in a few minutes. The other one will not move either, she is feeling a bit panicky.  
She tries to remain calm. But the panic is rising.

She can't see anything, and her arms won't move. She really starts to come out of her morning fog and attempts to figure out what's going on.

It's not dark, she can feel something on your eyes. It feels smooth, like silk.

Mary's arms aren't numb, they're tied to something. The bedposts, she guesses. She can feel the loop tied around your wrist. It seems her legs are tied too, as she can feel something around your ankles.

That is not drool on her cheek. She's gagged.

She is in a bed, with her hands and feet bound, and gagged.

She is tied up! Her arms and legs are spread, she can't see, she can't call for help, and she can't feel the heavy blanket on top of the sheet covering your naked body underneath.

Yes, and she is naked!

Maybe fear is a good idea after all!

Just as she feels her breath speed up and the panic rise, she feels the bed dip.

"Good morning, Pet. How are you doing this morning?" He drawls in her ear, his breath caressing her cheek.

It's Him!

She calms down, and lets out a sigh of relief. She still can't think this soon after waking up, but Mary knows that even though he has her tied, gagged, and blindfolded, she is safe.

"Mmmfmm nnnng. Hmmmennnguh." That's frustrating.

" I hope you've taken notice of your situation; I know you're slow in the mornings but I should think it's a rather big change to wake up to, isn't it? I wonder how much you've noticed. Have you noticed the silk around your ankles?"

'Oh my.' Those words shake her. There are sensations she is only just now noticing. The ropes around her wrists and ankles are smooth, silky.

Same for the black cloth over her eyes. A violent shiver runs up her spine.

She jolts as she feels his fingertips, caressing the inside of her thighs. He slowly glides up from the inside of her knees to the junction of her thighs.

"Mmmfmm!"

These teasing fingers stop, and she gasps for breath through the cloth in her mouth.

She is certainly awake now!

The bed moved and she heard him moving around the room. What's he doing?

He's getting on the bed, on her right side. He's leaning in.

He whispers in her ear. His lips are next to her right ear, she instinctively leans away, but she knows that won't help. There's no escaping him. She feels a tingling along her scalp and the back of her neck. Her nipples tightened almost painfully.

His hand closes around her throat and pulls her close again. Oh god, it's tightening. She can't moan, she can't even try to say anything. Not with the wad of wet cloth in her mouth.

"You were very naughty my Mary."

He releases her throat. She gasps for air for the second time, and she can feel her heartbeat in her ears now. It is so loud in the darkness of the blindfold; she swears she can see his face looking down at her.

She has seen that expression before. It is how he's looking at a delicious meal, hunger is the best description. She has seen excitement in his eyes before. No, this isn't just hunger she hears in his voice.

He's a predator. This is how a lion looks at a fallen gazelle, how a cat looks at a mouse between its paws. There's renewed fear. Her heart is beating hard in her chest. She is sure he knows just how scared she is.

"Now then, you're awake so you don't need this sheet to stay warm anymore, do you? Any objections before we begin?"

When she hears him chuckle at his own joke, she wants to object.

She wants to say "Stop! Let me go!" but she can't, with her mouth filled with the cloth, she can't speak past it. Still, she tried to let him know she wants him to let her go.

"Hnggg! NNNNGH!"

"Hmm, no objections, then? Good, I was worried you might ask me to stop. You know I could never deny you."

He sweeps the sheet off her, and she lays exposed before him. Naked, on her back, her legs spread, completely exposed. He's seen her before. In this very bed, he rode her from behind and she called out to him as he pulled her hair.

Why does she feel so exposed now? This feels different. It's like he can see inside her.

She gasps into her gag as his hand moves and touches her left leg just above the knee, stroking his hand up slowly. She involuntarily shifts her hips; she finds herself wanting this touch. She shivers, but not from the cold. Far from it, she can feel a heat building.

Mary aches for this caress at the apex of her thighs.

"You look so beautiful right now; I wish you could see yourself." He whispers to her again, his breath caressing her ear and neck. Chill bumps spread across her skin.

She can feel her nipples pebbling.

All her senses are heightened with her lack of sight.

The bed moves again.

He kisses her stomach. It tickles a little bit, she arches your back in pleasure, trying to push up into his mouth.

She can feel his teeth, and she oh so want to feel them higher, biting and nipping at her nipples. Why? Not even a few seconds ago she was afraid?

She feels his sucking kisses lift, and shifts up next to her. Drake's skin moves across hers, and she realizes he is naked as well. She can feel his cock nudging against her leg, it's hard.

One of his hands, she can't tell which, moves up her side, eventually settling still around the back of her neck, reaching under her shoulder. His mouth bites lightly at her throat, causing a gasp to escape, his whispered breath at her ear.

"Do you remember last time? Do you remember rolling around in the dark? I bit you quite a lot, and you loved it. You laid out on your tummy begging for more. And the bruises, I'm the only one who could see them. I never knew I liked to see you wear my mark."

Her husband caressed a finger along her shoulder. Down her arm and traced along the inside of her wrist. Before he leans in brushing his lips and kisses along her jaw and kissed her cheek, little bites to her neck, and pinches to her nipples.

She gasps. She moans and writhing in his pinching grasp. The ropes keeping her bound for him to play with like a toy. His beautiful toy!

*Snick*

Her attention snaps to her pussy. She shudders and squirms, but the ropes hold strong.

Another snick and she wince at the pain. He is using something to...'smack' is not the right description, it is light and fast, so fast it leaves a light sensation of pain and yet she wants it again, even as she shies from the sensation.

Her hips thrust up, needful and greedy. Moans escape around the gag, even as she has begun chewing at it.

She feels him moving again, and she shudders, she follows his movement in her mind's eye.

He reaches up and removes the gag, she reluctantly releases it to him from her teeth.

Drake chuckles as he tosses the soggy cloth away, and leans down. She can feel his breath on her lips. She licks them, they are feeling dry from the gag.

Drake follows the course her tongue tip takes across her lips. His broad tongue lapping at her upper lip. Mary opens and he thrusts into her mouth. Moving away she can feel him staring at her. His breath is loud and nearly as laboured at hers.

"I want to put my cock here." He says as he strokes a finger across her lips. "Later."

She hears the disappointment, and before she can say a thing, he climbs between her legs. Her heartbeat speeds up, and she can hear her pulse in her ears. Her breath comes short and fast.

Her hands find the ropes and clench and unclench around them. Every muscle in her body feels like it wants to move at once, but she can't. Her stomach muscles tighten in anticipation, and her back seems to arch and curl at the same time.

She feels him at her entrance, teasing her, she tries to look up at him pleadingly. He must know she wants to see him, wants him to look into her eyes when he takes her. But he just waits, teasing her over and over with his slick cock head. Her hips are trying to envelop him, but she can't reach and she can't stop the involuntary movements.

"Do you want it?"

Mary doesn't even know how to answer. Just saying yes isn't sufficient. she already submitted in body, when she realized it was Drake who held her captive. She knows he wants her total submission, and she wants to give it to him.

So badly. She wants to beg him for it, but every time she tries, the words stop in her chest. It takes minutes of her to work to get them out, and she can't wait minutes. She needs him inside her as soon as possible. She writhes for a second, working herself up.

"Please! I want it! I want it so bad! Please..."

"That's a good girl." Before he finishes his sentence, he forcefully pushes in.

She is momentarily shocked and instinctively tries to pull away.

His slick girthy cock breaches her tight needy channel.

After several small shallow strokes, he is fully embedded in her tight wet heat.

"Fuck I have missed this." He says as he slides a hand up over her chest, his thumb strokes her throat as the rest of his hand cups her neck. Leaning forward his mouth covers hers; she can feel his need in that consuming mating of his lips to hers.

His tongue and cock work together, over and over they fill the hole they are stroking in and out of. This tandem immersion heightens Mary in a way she never expected. The blindfold only heightens her pleasure.

Drake stops, he is breathing hard, and her own breath comes even faster like she just sprinted with him. He doesn't move for what seems like minutes. She can feel him throb inside, she wants his thrusts, she wants his seed. More than the desire for those sawing motions, she needs his arms wrapped around her, as he fills her over and over. Filling her with his length, even as his arms encapsulate her in his strong embrace. She wants it all, him, all!

Pulling tight those muscles she knows that drive him mad, she begins to flutter her channel and he hisses as he releases his lips locked on hers.

He counters her move with his own, the throbbing of his phallus increases to a near thrust, stroking up along the top of her channel, causing her to cry out. She lunges her hips up at his, trying for more, more slide, greater stroking depths, more of him any way she can get it.

Moving his hands up along and through her mahogany tresses, he pushed the blindfold from her eyes.

"Uh, there you are." His eyes search her green depths and she blinks up at him. His thumb strokes along her eyelid. "I have missed these pretty jewels." He admits, she smiles up at him lost in his gaze.

Only to have her eyes slam shut, as he brutally plunges into her wet sucking heat. His tip hitting her depths, impaled, leaving her breathless.

Over and over he strikes, over and over she calls out to him. Her hands fisting the silk fastening, using them and her heels for leverage as she propels her middle up, to meet his bucking hips.

Shifting up a bit, he lets his length drag against her clit. That is all it takes to send Mary hurtling into a fluttering, clenching, climax.

His bellow, his release as total as her own.

She so wants for him to untie her hands so she can stroke them over his sweat-damp back, cup his bottom and hold him close.

He drops to her side, his caressing hand cupping her stomach.

Mary turns her head and watches as his breaths even out. She smiles as she watches her husband sleep.

She had to threaten to get him to come to her, but she was not sorry for her letters.

He looked perfect; his strong chin begged to be kissed. Turning her head, the other way Mary studied the cravats tying her to the bed.

One of the ends lay close to her finger tips, stretching she catches the end with a nail and pulling it along the bed closer to her palm.

Turning her hand, she can just grasp the fabric and gently pulled, the tie began to unravel. Wriggling the fabric back and forth, she was able to loosen her cravat from the bedpost, Free. Reaching across with the cravat still dangling from her wrist, she untied the other wrist.

Pushing up she struggled, but still managed to untie her ankles.

Turning she found Drake still sound asleep, he must have travelled all night. Leaning forward she pressed her lips to his dimpled chin. Sliding off the bed and began getting herself ready for her day.

At the door, Mary stopped and looked back at the bed with a thoughtful frown. After a moment a smile tugs at her lips.
Chapter 10

The rattling of dishes woke Drake. The ties binding him to the bed, shot him up to a nearly seated position.

He glared at the amused woman standing at the foot of the bed with a luncheon tray in her hands.

"Why the bloody hell am I tied up?"

Rather than answer, she moved to the side of the bed where an empty side table now sat. Setting the tray down, Mary carefully arranged her skirts as she took a seat beside him.

"Good afternoon milord."

"Mary!" He growled back at her.

She turned to look

at him over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised. "Yes?"

He uselessly tugged at the cravats. "Explain yourself." He demanded.

Turning to face him more fully she smiled as she took in his naked chest and bound hands. Before her gazed skimmed down to take in his impressive length, and strong looking thighs and calves.

"Oh, is it not my turn?" She asked innocently.

"Your turn?" He barked, making her jump. And rethink letting the grumpy man lose any time soon.

"Well, you did take such sport tying me up, I thought it fair that I should get a turn." She said. "Its only reasonable milord." She looked away and began adjusting her skirts. Drake took a calming breath and watched his wife's blush, the pulse in her throat raced and her breath was uneven. He fixed his eyes on her breasts. Hard little nipples, tented out the fabric.

His little wife was aroused and wanted him.

"Reasonable, of course." He relaxed and decided to see where she was prepared to take this. "Might I have another pillow to support my back?"

"Yes," immediately she bounced up and hurried off to his room, returning with several pillows and cushions. With great care, she made him comfortable.

"I've brought a luncheon." She recited the menu as she fluffed and fussed over him.

Drake now felt a blush staining his cheeks.

"If I promise to let you fasten me to the bed again, can you let me go for a few minutes." He negotiated.

With hands-on her generous hips she was glaring now, her prize wanting to flee?

"No!"

With a deep suffering sigh, Drake expelled a long breath. "Fine, but you will have to hold him, and the chamber pot." Drake nodded his head in his lap's direction.

Embarrassment spurred her on as she quickly unfastened the bindings.

Once he was free, Drake strolled over to the water closet, enjoying his wife's lecherous eyes devouring him.

After a quick wash and brief grooming, he returned to Mary and still naked and climbed back on the bed. True to his word he held out his hands and spread his legs.

"There really is no need to tie me up m'dear. I am perfectly happy to lie right here and let you have at me." He folded his hands behind his head in a casual pose, watching as Mary stood at the foot of the bed eyeing him, with the bindings clutched in her fist, her tiny teeth nibbling at her lower lip. Drake nearly groaned aloud as he felt his shaft begin to fill, he wanted those lips wrapped around his cock. He wanted her nibbling his glands.

Unable to help himself, he reached down and took his cock in hand, and gave it a vicious squeeze. Mary gasped and licked her lips as she watched his rough strokes.

"Mary pull your skirts up." He commanded.

A captive to her needs, she gathered the material and tucked it into her waistband.

"Come up here sweets and ride my cock."

Mary didn't tie Drake up, and he didn't get an opportunity to hold Mary captive again.

Instead, he found himself wondering if she would hunt him down at the stables, in the garden, or slam the door shut to his library again. Even as she undid her skirts and let them drop as she crossed the room, climbed into his lap, and demand to know why his cock wasn't out yet?

This increasing business was a great deal of work. Work he was rather enjoying!

Mary only had two months left before the child was due, Drake true to his promise, sent the new groom Darcy to London. He selflessly stayed behind at the estate to see to his wife's needs, as she requested.

With each passing day, Drake worried for the health of his poor overused cock, and for his sanity not to mention his heart.

Here he sat in his Library at Newbattle, perfectly content to wait on his wife's pleasure rather than enjoying the whirl of the season. Just this very morning Drake sent a letter to his man of business to terminate his association with his mistress. And he more often than not, found himself seeking out Mary's company, not for any other reason than to make sure she was smiling.

Why in all that was holy, was he feel this compulsion to ensure that every day was a wonder for his wife, not only his wife but spending time in the nursery with the children. Even the luncheons he shared with his family, most often extended well into the afternoon. Sometimes even to the point where it was easier to just stay on for tea time too?

So nearly two months later here sat Drake explaining to his best friend and cousin Brent, the Earl of Ashford that no he would not be returning to London anytime soon, most likely not even until well after Mary dropped his heir.

Brent came looking for Drake out of fear that the Marquess was under the weather or in need of rescuing. Only to find Woodbury, looking a bit shaggy with his gloss of black curls growing out well past what was fashionable, often without a waistcoat. And even more surprising waiting on his plump little wife and children.

After a full day and a half, Brent finally managed to ferret out the Marquess just long enough to get a full confession from the man. Only to have their visit cut short by none other than Mary herself. Who came to the door, bob a quick curtsey, and asked if his lordship had a moment?

If the noises coming from down the hall, were any indication. Drake was attending to his wife's needs. And by the looks of the chap, enjoying every moment of his sojourn in the country.

Brent tossed back the rest of his drink and decided since he was in the neighbourhood, he might drop in on an old acquaintance, a widow whose husband had been gone for well on two years. Granted she was a stout matron, and not much of a looker, but a proven breeder and still had all her teeth, last he saw of her that is?
_Brent and Emily's Story_

###  Chapter 11

Stepping up into the carriage the Earl smacked his walking stick on the opposite seat. He grimaced and looked at his arm.

He wanted to strip off his jacket and inspect himself for wounds. The chit managed to pinch him so many times it was a wonder his arm was even able to move.

He snorted, it was no small thing to be able to inflict pain on a grown man threw a couple of layers of clothing, how would a child survive that woman's vicious ministrations.

He thought back to the last few weeks of his search.

So far, he had been viciously pinched over and over again.

Had one young woman's father parked in the back seat of his carriage, while Brent drove them around the green. The father claimed he wanted to see Brent's handling of his horse flesh.

Miss Temperance Holyrood snorted and moaned into her teacup at every sip.

Lady Anne Fieldings at first such a promising start, only to get jittery every time he bowed over her hand, then outright whimpered when her mother up and left them alone in the parlour together. The Earl afraid for his honour and the young woman's unsteady nerves, he nearly trod on her mother's heels at being left alone with the nervous creature, while making his escape.

He should have gone with his first inclination and visited Lady Wellesley when he was at Newbattle Hall. The stout matron, not much of a looker, a proven breeder that is what he needed, not some nervous, pinching, father interfering Miss.

This dithering was becoming tiresome. Yes! He would make the trip home and throw himself on the good ministrations of the Widow Wellesley. He grimaced at he lifted his abused arm to knock on the carriage wall to gain his driver.

### Chapter 12

"The Earl of Ashford milady." The butler announced.

"Lady Wellesley." The Earl greeted the older woman as he entered the shabby drawing-room. Taking her proffered hand, and bussing the knuckles, even as he suppressed a shudder.

"Milord, what brings you to our far-flung residence?"

"Far-flung? Not a'tall milady." Brent protested as he took the seat the older woman indicated, even as he discreetly inspected her withered countenance. He knew Lady Wellesley to have come up with his older brother, a beauty in her prime. Obviously, marriage had not been kind to her. Her lean haggard appearance alarmed him.

He declined the tea she was on the verge of requesting from her manservant. "Milady, I am just a tad parched, cool water would be most appreciated. But please don't let me stop you from partaking." He saw the relief and pleased look both her ladyship and the butler shared.

Ashford let Lady Wellesley lead the conversation, while they waited for the water to be served. He answered all her questions about his family and to their health.

Once they each received a tumbler of water, he steers the conversation to the reason for his visit.

"Lady Wellesley, my mother assures me you are the one to seek advice from." Brent sits forward as if he is about to impart a secret. "You see she well remembers that you were the most popular debutante to have graced society. From and married into most of the best families in the realm." He gave the older woman a gentle smile, he knew just the right form of flattery to wield.

"That being the case, I find myself in need of a wife." He hurried on in case she misunderstood his comment. "Having been about town, I have found no young lady who I can see spending the rest of my life with. So here I am upon your doorstep, hoping beyond hope that you will know of just the right chit I can..." He gave a dramatic sigh. "I can take to wife."

He looked away from Lady Wellesley and stared into his glass as if the weight of the world pressed down on his shoulders.

Setting her glass aside, the matron stood, shook out her skirts and moved over to a set of windows in the corner of the drawing-room.

Brent gave her time to think, he wasn't wrong in his sycophancy, the Wellesley's came from a well-connected and prestigious family. The Lady Wellesley's own family the Seymour's could trace their lineage to the thirteenth century, the Duke of Somerset, Marquess of Hertford.

'Yes, Lady Wellesley was the prefect matron to seek advice from.' Brent mentally assured himself, as he watched the matron gaze out the window.

"I do have a young lady in mind," the older woman admitted quietly. "She is rather young."

"How young?" Brent could feel his hackles rise.

"Seventeen," Lady Wellesley held up a hand to stall his protestations. "Soon to be eighteen. She is a lovely girl, and excellent in her domestic studies, she has a head for numbers and can run your estate with the utmost economy."

"This paragon would be coming out, no?" the Earl queried.

"No!" Lady Wellesley turned back to the window, "no, Lord Ashford she would not. Finances would be problematic you see." He almost missed the last of what she said, it was spoken so quietly.

He set his nearly untouched drink aside and stood. Moving behind Lady Wellesley, he too could see the children playing in the courtyard just to the side of the house.

One young lady sat on a bench in the middle of the mayhem. Reading, obvious to the four shouting children chased one another around the hedges and plantings. As one little boy of maybe five or six clamoured over her. She held the book up out of the way, snagged the child by the suspenders and carefully released him safely on the other side. With a fond smile, she went back to her reading.

Brent admitted to himself, her mass of golden blonde curls and bright blue eyes captivated him as no others had. Her perfect china doll features and trim figure, well what he could see of it, would certainly have all of London panting after her.

"My children." The matron raised her hand to the window. "Emily seventeen, Martin fourteen, Beatrice is eleven, George is just nine, and Elliott is seven." Lady Wellesley said without looking away from the window. "Lord Wellesley had the sickness and...well he left us in dire need." She sighed and finally look up at him. "He was always so certain that this time he would win you see."

Brent just nodded; he knew Wellesley liked the gaming hells. He didn't know it was at the expense of the Wellesley family's immense fortunes.

Lady Wellesley turned back to the window. "Emily, she looks after all the ledgers, but it is taking its toll. She hardly ever smiles anymore." Brent looked away from the Widow to her daughter. The soft look Emily gave Elliott as she set aside her book, and help the child up, dusting off his red palms. She carefully kissed his dirty fingers, tussled his hair and went back to her book.

That look was the deciding factor for Brent. She was not only a beauty but tender-hearted as well.

"Lady Wellesley, just to be clear, it is your daughter Emily you recommend?"

"Yes, Lord Ashford." The older woman finally turned to face him.

Over the next hour, they discussed the Wellesley family finances, and how best Lord Ashford could salvage their situation.

Taking his card from his pocket, he handed it to Lady Wellesley. "Here are the directions for my man of business, send him your ledgers. I will contact him today and inform him of our conversation. In the interim, I will stop in King's Lynn and speak with the merchants you are dealing with." Brent moved over to the window.

After a moment he turned back to Lady Wellesley. "You are certain tomorrow is not too soon to send her off?"

"It is for the best, if Emily has too much time to contemplate, she will work herself into a lather." Lady Wellesley straightened her bony shoulders. "No, this way is for the best."

"I will heed your parental expertise." Brent gave the woman a slight bow.

"Woodbury and his new wife will attend our nuptials the day after next." He nodded when Lady Wellesley indicated the bell. With the servant summons, Brent made his way to the door and stopped just as it opened.

"Please do not hesitate to send word if you need anything further." Ashford reminded as he took his hat and crop from the butler.

He stopped and looked down at the Lady Wellesley who gripped the sleeve of his jacket.

"Thank you, milord." Her dull blue eyes swam with tears.

With care, he removed her hand and kissed her fingers. "I think I came out ahead in this agreement." He gave her an encouraging smile.

###  Chapter 13

Emily was furious, running as fast as she could for the stables. Once there she mounted her favourite horse, Zeus, and rode off. She would of course return, her mother didn't even bother sending anyone after her, she knew Emily would be back.

She always rode when she was angry, hurt, disappointed, or just needed time alone, time to think. She had just been told that she was to marry in a few days time, it was finalized and arranged.

Most people had broken with this horrid tradition, but occasionally it was still needed in families to secure alliances, partnerships or in her family's case, debt!

When Emily reached her spot, a clearing deep within the woods, she stopped Zeus and let him wander, while she headed to the edge of the meadow. She had constructed a shelter of sorts, complete with a few creature comforts for her long stays in the woods. She had never spent the night, but this time, she was tempted.

"How could Mother do this to me?" she cried out to no one in particular, as she was all alone.

After a time, her tears dried up, and anger took hold. Emily paced and finally settled down and began to think. Her mother said the name of her future husband, the Earl of Ashford

"Brent Ashford".

What did she know about him?

She knew him to be much older!

Old enough she would never have noticed him once her coming out took place.

A coming out she knew would never happen, not that she wanted a season. Dancing in an enormous dress that barely afforded any movement, looking for her perfect match, ha, not her! All of the men she met thus far were dull, and the boys who tried to catch her attention were just that boys. Marriage, relationships weren't for her.

Her mother assured Emily she was well acquainted with the Earl, having last met him, at the Lady Austen's party she attended with her family. Well over five years ago.

"Who remembers adults at a hunting party they attended when they are twelve?" Emily snorted at her rhetorical question.

No, she didn't remember him, as she was just a child and he an adult.

She basked in the sun's heat while hearing her mother's voice in her head,

"Stay out of the sun, your skin will look like our gardener."

"Who will want to marry a brown woman covered in spots?" Emily chuckled, as she tilted her face to catch more of the sun's warmth.

It was likely her future husband also had no choice, no matter how dark she was or how many freckles she had. He was stuck with her!

A thought popped into her head just then.

She could be the most horrible of wives, making him so miserable he wouldn't want her and then maybe he would leave her alone. She didn't want a husband. She had seen what men do.

Their estate was quite large, with a lot of nooks and crannies. At one time they had plenty of staff, and she had seen what the stable boys and the maids did. There was no way she was letting Brent Ashford flip her skirts up and look at her legs or anything else for that matter!

She sighed at her foolish fantasies.

Her family was mired in debt, debt this marriage was to alleviate.

Just recently their estate manager had to be let go. Emily the only one with a head for figures cared for the ledgers, who would take on that task if she were gone...married off?

Thought after thought raced through her head, and before she knew it, dusk began to creep up.

Emily grudgingly mounted Zeus and headed for home. Once there she waved off the groom and took care of her horse, brushing and feeding him. Emily didn't mind caring for Zeus; she found it therapeutic, and he was her friend. He was her freedom!

Would Ashford allow her to bring her horse to Kent with them?

Entered the house through the kitchen door, she stopped off to have a word with Cook, before moving out to the family rooms and the main staircase.

She had learnt long ago to not use the backstairs, or servants' stairs, as it threw the staff off and more than once, she happened on something, she should not be privy too.

She was greeted by her mother's voice, "I'm glad you have finally returned." As she rounded the newel post, her foot on the first step.

"Well, I haven't much choice, I don't agree with what you are making me do."

"Lord Ashford sent you a letter; it is in your room." Emily watched as her mother twisted the handkerchief in her hands. For a moment she almost felt sorry for the older woman, before a silent reminder she was being sold off to pay her fathers' many debts.

"The maids have packed what you will be taking with you. You will be leaving in the morning, and married the following day. I have arranged for Zeus to go with you to Kent, but you are only to ride with permission. If you violate that agreement Zeus will be returned here or sold."

"You can't sell Zeus, he is mine!"

"Once you marry, Zeus and you will belong to Ashford, all you need do is abide these simple rules and he will allow you to keep your horse."

"Besides a lady shouldn't do as much riding as you do, nor in the manner that you do it. I would think you would consider yourself lucky that he is being this accommodating." Her mother turned away and then stopped. "I have asked Cook to prepare a tray for you, you will have an early night, as you have an early morning and long day ahead."

Emily silently made her way up the stairs and to her room.  
Emily,

I do hope you are as excited as I am for this new adventure, our marriage.

I admit to not remembering you from Lady Austin's weekend.

However, your mother pointed you out while you were in the courtyard with your siblings, and I found you enchanting.

I do apologize that this is so sudden for you, it is for me as well.

However, we are both aware of the necessity for haste, I am just glad to be able to accommodate your mothers' wishes.

I look forward to formally meeting you on your arrival, and I wish you a pleasant journey.  
I anxiously await our introduction.  
Ashford

Well, that didn't tell me much, she thought while nibbling on her apple. That night Emily slept fitfully and rose feeling ill and out of sorts the next morning. She dressed and did her hair in as plain a manner as possible, not wanting to attract attention from anyone, especially her soon to be husband. When she came down for breakfast her family waited for her. It wasn't often that they all ate a meal together.

Everyone tried to cheer her and encourage her that she would love the Earl and being married. She could only think of all the times her father had struck her mother, and didn't understand how she could expect Emily to 'trust her judgement that the Earl was a nice gentleman.' She could barely eat and much relieved when breakfast was finely over and told the carriage waited out front.

Emily breathed a sigh of relief at seeing Zeus being brought around, she watched as he was attached to the rear of the carriage.

She stopped and glared at all of her belongings packed and stored on the vehicle. After a moment she shook off the anger and mounted the steps to enter the carriage.

###  Chapter 14

Upon arriving at the Ashford Estate, Emily was greeted by the staff, Mrs. Fipps the housekeeper led Emily to her rooms. Where she was introduced to Ann her new lady's maid.

Ann and Emily worked together to stow away all of her belongings, then bathe and dress for dinner. Of the Earl, there was no sign thus far.

Giles appeared and Emily follow the butler to the dining room, she silently admitted to being famished after all the upheaval and her nervous stomach this morning.

The house was sparsely furnished she noted.

Once she reached the dining room Giles indicated she should take the seat to the right of the head of the table. Just as she was seated, a well-dressed and handsome man entered the room, gave her a slight bow and took the seat next to her.

"Your trip was decent?" He asked as he shook out his napkin and settled it in his lap.

"Yes, thank you, milord?" As angry as she was, she could not be impolite, having manners so firmly drilled into her over the years.

They both watched as the soup was set before them.

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" The Earl asked, his lips quirked at her glare.

"Yes." Was her only reply.

After several more attempts at conversation, Brent's thoughts tossed about looking for something that might engage his little bride. Apparently, all of the joyful liveliness he witnessed yesterday had vanished and Emily's focused had turned to hate for him.

Emily really was out of sorts. Maybe he should have been on hand upon her arrival. Or spoke to her about their marriage, rather than let her mother handle it.

He mentally snorted, at least when Emily focused on a task, she did it wholeheartedly.

After he finished eating, he waited until she appeared done then asked, "Shall I show you to your room?"

"Please." Before he could help her, Emily tossed her napkin next to her plate and rose quickly. Stepping aside, her eyes turned away looking anywhere but at him.

Rather than leading her to the stairs, he held her hand and took her to the Library. Pouring out a measure of whiskey for himself and a small portion of sherry for his fiancé. Turning Brent handed the glass to Emily before tossing back his drink.

"Emily, I can see you are angry by this...arrangement, hating me won't solve your circumstances, it will likely just make us both miserable." Brent rolled the empty glass back and forth between his palms.

Emily watched him before taking a sip of the thick sweet drink and grimaced. She walked to the side table and set the glass down. She was pleased to see the Earl limited his consumption to the one glass. She was not fond of drunken behaviour, having seen enough of it in her father.

"I am miserable, and find no satisfaction in being anyone's puppet, I much prefer to make my own decisions." She admitted.

Brent nodded, set his glass next to hers, moving closer he took her hand in his.

"I understand this is out of your hands and you are feeling trapped. I am a stranger to you, even if our families have been friendly in the past. I also can appreciate your concern for our relationship or lack thereof, even the age difference!" He admitted as he toyed with her fingertips, rubbing his thumb over her fingernails and then lacing their fingers together.

"I'm will not tolerate rude behaviour from you, and thus far, you have been nothing but polite, if terse." Brent figured to set her straight with his expectations. Lifted their twined hand and pressed his lips to the back of hers. Emily shivered and tried to pull her hand free. Never had any man, handle her so. Brent only tightened his grip and continued "Please understand, I will do everything within my power to make you happy, I just hope you decide to do the same for me."

"Yes, milord." Emily quietly replied, still not looking at her soon to be husband. "Can you show me to my room now?" She asked, even as she continued to struggle to extract her hand from his.

Brent studied the lovely young woman, who would be his wife and nearly sighed out loud.

"One of the most important pieces of advice my parents imparted to me when I had my first season." His lips quirked at the thought. "They were hoping I would find a wife within months of being released on London," Brent explained. Emily's eyes flew to his, at his dry humour.

Their eyes, searching one another, caught. Emily finally pulled her gaze from his and looked at the strong plains of his face, cataloguing every feature, finding a cohesive balance, symmetry.

Ashford nearly smiled at her quizzical look, as she studied his face. Her curiosity pleased him.

"Right the advice, 'start out the way you intend to continue'." Brent reached out with his free hand and tilted her chin until their eyes met again. His blue-grey gaze searched her violet eyes. His breath caught at the frightened look. Such a pretty face should never wear such an expression.

Pressing his lips to her hand, his gaze still locked with hers. Brent silently vowed to bring back that infectious laugh of hers.

He released her hand and walked off, Emily caught off guard at his abrupt actions, hurried to catch up. Nearly running the first few steps to cross the room. Brent slowed and placed her hand on his arm as they ascended the staircase, all too soon they arrived at her door. Emily felt breathless and surprised at the sense of loss of his heated touch when he released her hand to open the door for her.

When he opened the door, he blocked her way for just a moment. "Emily, we will be married after breakfast tomorrow. Ann will be in to help you prepare; it will be a very small affair. Once we are married, you will be moved into my room and we will share."

Emily jerked as if she had been slapped and her eyes flew to his, searching.

"Would you like to spend some time together this evening and get to know me?" Brent asked.

"I don't want to know you." She breathes as she tried brushed past him and into her room. Ashford caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

Emily easily pulled her hand from his and quickly shut the door, leaning back on it, her breath sawing in and out. She felt her eyes jerk around the room searching, for what? Her chest tightened in fright as she tried to catch her breath.

She began to cry, as she slid down along the door.

Racking sobs consumed her, after a time her cries turned into hiccups. Curling up on the floor, she let her tired tear swollen eyes drift closed.

Vaguely she heard a doorknob turning and felt strong arms pick her up.

"Oh, sweetling." Brent murmured as he carried his bride to her bed. Carefully he took his time removing each article of clothing, leaving only her chamise. Pulling back the coverlet, he laid her out, studied her for a moment. Decision made. Brent quickly shucked his clothing, climbed in next to his soon to be wife. Pulling Emily into his arms, and ignored his hard member that wanted this woman more than his next breath.

### Chapter 15

Emily snuggled into the warmth surrounding her. Momentarily she dreamily drifted in contentment only to stop as her foot slid along a hairy calf. Her head jerked up and she tried to pull out of the arms holding her. Brent loosened his hold enough to let her pull back a bit.

His hard cock woke him at dawn, he found himself rocking against the smooth thigh nestled against his stones. Carefully he shifted the woman in his arms, all Brent needed was for Emily to jam her knee into his groin in her sleep.

"Wait, what...what did you do?" She sputtered as she scrabbled away from him, well as far as the bed would allow.

"I was lying here, awake since dawn I might add, though we might go for a gallop before breakfast, your mother said you love to ride. I thought it might make you feel better." Brent said as he rolled to his back and stacked his hands behind his head.

Emily stared at the man in her bed in confusion. He looked perfectly relaxed as if it was a normal occurrence to be lying together. In bed...together...and conversing of their day.

Is this how husbands and wives behaved?

She pushed back her wild blonde curls and looked around helplessly. Finally, her eyes found him again. He was watching her, his face filled with curiosity. Was this just as strange for him?

The covers had slipped down and settled around his waist. His shoulders were wide and he had fur on his chest and underarms. She studied him. The hair taped into a V shape, disappearing under the covers. Did he have hair at his sex as she did?

Brent pulled his arm free and held his hand out, Emily looked at it, carefully she placed hers him his. Brent gently tugged her over. Once she scooted closer, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in, with his other hand he arranged her back into his arms.

Her ear pressed to his chest.

She could hear the beating of his heart.

She could hear his breaths.

Pushing her wild hair out of his face, her head tucked under his chin, they both laid in tense silence. He felt her begin to relax, as his hand lightly stroking her bare arm.

"See not so bad hmmm?" Brent asked rhetorically.

Emily pulled back a bit and looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. Maybe he was nice after all. "Riding?" She asked.

"If you like. It is our wedding day and we can do it how we wish." He tucked her back into him. His voice rumbled under her ear. "Besides, I hear you have a bruising ride. I would like to have a look at him."

"I would love that," Emily admitted while she tried to figure out what to do with her arm. She rested it on her hip, fingers clutching at the covers. Finally, Brent reached out and placed her fisted hand on his stomach, he stroked the back of her hand as it slowly relaxed, and her fingers spread out and rested on his hard abdomen. He held her for a time, before placing a kiss on the top of her head. Pulling away from her, he kissed her forehead.

"I will ring for your maid, get dressed and I will be back for you?" She looked up at him and nodded shyly. Brent smiled and leaning down he kissed her nose.

Getting out of the bed, his naked bottom flexed as he walked over to the adjoining door.

Emily watched with avid interest as she studying his naked back until it disappeared from view.

Ann arrived with a tea tray and Emily's best rose coloured morning gown over her arm. Setting the tray down, Ann hung the pressed dress on the back of the door that Brent just walked through.

"While you are washing, I will get your riding habit ready, shall I?" The maid asked.

"Sorry to disappoint you Ann, but you must have noticed that I don't own a riding habit," Emily advised.

"Yes milady, his Lordship had me go through the Marchioness gowns, I have one altered if that will suit."

"Marchioness gowns?"

"The Earl sent a note around to Lady Woodbury with a request for some gowns and a riding habit."

"Wonderful, thank you, Ann." Emily hoped the maid would not relay to the rest of the staff, how sarcastic she just sounded. Still, it was hard to not feel angry and frustrated, like a beggar looking for others castoffs.

Once she was washed, teeth cleaned and hair brushed and secured in a tight plate. Emily looked at the fabric held out and her breath caught.

The black velvet was lovely. She moved forward and let Ann drop the dress down over her. She avoided looking in the Chevelle mirror until Ann finished.

She let the maid help her into the matching jacket, with the jacket fastened and froth of the mock lace cravat at her throat fluffed. Emily turned to her reflection and her breath caught. The dark fabric perfectly suited her fair colouring. She pulled her gold blond braid over her shoulder and let it rest in contrast.

She never felt so beautiful. She shook her head at the thought. Ten minutes on Zeus and she would be a wreck. The wind had a way of quickly unravelling her hair.

Pulling her shoulders back, she determined to enjoy these few minutes of actually looking like a well-bred lady.

Ann held out a hat and crop to Emily who just laughed and waved the maid away.

"I never use a crop, and the hat is bound to be lost in short order. Let us save us both the headache of trying to find a replacement." Emily explained as she pulled on her well used leather gloves. Both women looked at the door as a brief knock sounded before the door opened.

"Lord Ashford." Ann greeted the Earl, bobbed and quickly gathered Emily's nightwear and exited the room.

"You look lovely Emily." She blushed under Brent's heated gaze, he held out his arm, they walked in silence down the stairs, then through the kitchen and out a side door to the stables across a cobblestone thoroughfare.

"I had them put Zeus on the far end, next to Mildred, she is my favourite. Would you like me to saddle Zeus for you?" He stopped and turned an inquiring look on Emily when her giggle sputtered. She tried to stifle the laughter, only it turned into a very un-lady-like snort. Unable to help it, the laughter burst forth through the fingers covering her mouth.

He gave his giggling companion a haughty look, but Emily notices the twinkle in his lovely grey-blue eyes. She finally controlled her laughter, wiping the tears of mirth from her cheeks.

"Mildred?" She asked.

Moving down through the stables, Brent opened a stall door, hooked a lead to the Arabian's halter and led the horse forward.

Emily gasped. Mildred was nearly white with a hint of yellow gold, her mane and tail a much darker gold. The markings around her eyes, made the horse look as if she wore coal liner. With ridiculously long eyelashes.

"Oh, she is stunning!" Emily gushed as she ran her hands over the horse. "What a beauty you are!" She exclaimed as she held the horses face to hers.

"See, a Mildred if ever I saw one!" Brent declared facetiously. His eyes catching every nuance of his fiancé's expressions, as she admired the horse.

She stopped petting the horse and looked back at Brent.

"I don't ride with a saddle," Emily admitted.

Shocked by this and for a moment thought of arguing, Brent couldn't bring himself to say anything that would remove that smile from her lovely face.

As the couple rode around the yard at Brent's request, so he could see for himself that Emily was in control of her mount, they then galloped out of the yard and across the fields and down into a forested area.

At first, Ashford allowed Emily to lead, just so he could have the pleasure of watching her, then he pulled ahead

"Come, on, I want to show you something. It isn't too far, and it's a favourite of mine."

"You sit your horse well." He complimented as they slowed to a trot before he pulled ahead again to lead her along a nearly indiscernible path.

Emily nodded and followed him down a tree-lined passage through a break in a thicket, she heard the waterfall before she saw it. The shaded calm reflecting pool appeared first and soon became a lovely cascade, tumbling down into an upper pool of water. The area was surrounded by beautiful wildflowers and plenty of big rocks that looked perfect for laying or sitting on. Brent dismounted from Mildred and extended a hand to help Emily dismount. She shivered as he let her slide down along his body.

"I think the reflecting pool is nearly as lovely as the falls." Brent murmured into Emily's ear, reluctantly letting her go once her feet touched the ground.

"I can see why it is a favourite for you. I had a spot back home I would ride to; it was just a meadow of wildflowers." She turned about, looking at the clearing, "It didn't have a waterfall, nor pond. Still, it was a lovely spot and mine."

"Do you swim?"

"I've never been." She admitted.

"Would you like to try, it's shallow, and I promise to make sure you are safe?"

Emily eyed the water, then Brent, before shaking her head. Instead, she began to gather flowers. Covertly watching as Brent walked down to the water's edge, he took off all but his breaches, stepping down into the water. He dove under and came up alongside the pond where Emily sat, she was using one of the ribbons from her hair to tie around her bouquet.

"Don't you think this is a little inappropriate?" Emily asked him, as he leaned his chin on his hands to watch her.

"Later you will see more, so I don't see that there is much point in me getting all of my clothes sopping."

"My mother explained my duties." She admitted with a blush staining her cheeks. "She explained there would be a great deal of pain and that I was not to refuse you." Her fear-filled eyes search his for a moment, before looking away.

"Bugger your mother!" Emily stared at Brent in shock. "You will be my wife, so I'll expect you..." Brent hesitated for a moment, knowing he was handling this badly. "Emily you will be my wife and yes I have expectations, I also have never had a virgin in my bed." He admitted, and she was relieved that he was blushing and as uncomfortable as she was.

"That said." He cleared his throat. "Just so, I have heard it can be painful the first time, and we can together decide it we want to forge ahead and get it done quickly, or take our time and suss it out."

He levered himself up suddenly and grabbed his bride and dragged her into the pond with him. Laughing, Brent came up out of the water holding a drenched and not very happy Emily who glared at the man holder her. Using the sopping bouquet, she began slapping at him with the soggy flowers. Soon they were both laughing and splashing at one another.

"I don't like you right now," she growled as she smacked at him one last time. Tossed the abused flowers aside. With as much dignity as possible, she tried and failed several times to climb the shallow stones out of the pond. The weight of her soaking wet skirts dragging her back in.

A grinning Brent swept Emily into his arms and easily scaled the steps and deposited her on dry land.

"You know this is not funny." She huffed.

"I disagree." He said from inside his shirt and grinned at her when his head popped through the neckline.

"This was borrowed from a Marchioness, and most likely ruined." She plucked at her skirts. Lifting them and began wringing out what water she could.

"I am sure Mary will be fine with a little water."

"Mary?"

"Woodbury," Brent explained as he sat down and began tugging on his boots.

Now Emily's glare had changed to absolute fury. Brent didn't think it possible to watch an emotion consume a person. And yet here stood his bride staring daggers at him.

"And who is Mary Woodbury?" Emily gritted out between clenched teeth.

If Brent knew her better, he might think Emily jealous, but jealousy was not possible in their relationship. They had only known one another a few hours, hardly time to develop any sort of affection.

"The Marquess of Woodbury is our neighbour. Drake Woodbury is also my cousin and Mary Aims Simpson is his wife. They will be joining us for breakfast. Oh, and possibly their children as well. Cedrick, Lord Milton is six, Thomas is four and Douglas is two."

"Thank you for letting me know," Emily said stiffly, giving up on the gown she snatched up the discarded flowers, looked at the ragged bunch and tossed them down again.

Brent watched stupefied as his bride gather the reins, grasp Zeus's mane and vault onto her horse. Before he could blink, they were away. Easily navigating the path home at a gallop.

With a sigh, he finished putting his boots on and moved to follow his bride.

Rounding a curve in the long lane to his home, he saw the Woodbury coach being moved off to the stables, with Cedric sitting up next to the driver. One thing Brent had learned in his short acquaintance with the young lord, the boy was horse mad.

Giving Mildred direction, he easily caught up to the carriage.

###  Chapter 16

Emily had just entered her rooms, when she heard the carriage arrive, "That must be the Woodbury's, we will need to hurry." Emily despaired. "They will think I am a terrible hostess." She said to Ann over her shoulder.

"Of course, we wouldn't, you are the bride and well within your rights to keep that horrible man waiting as long as you like." Mary defended as she sailed through the door unannounced, having caught the last of Emily's worried comments.

Dropping her clutch on the nearest tabletop, she continued into the room. About to reach out with open arms she stopped and looked at Emily in dismay.

"What happened to you?" The tiny brunette stared at Emily's bedraggled appearance. "You are soaked through."

"Lord Ashford. Milady." Emily awkwardly bobbed a courtesy, mindful of Ann trying to get the wet buttons unfastened.

"Please tell me that man did not hurt you." Mary's happy round face easily morphed into a murderous scowl."

"Not a'tall, he pulled me into the pond with him." Emily pouted as she held out her wet skirts.

Mary giggled, carefully leaning forward and kissed Emily's cheek. "Silly man, well welcome to our crazy family soon to be Lady Ashford."

"Uh, here. Just place those on the bed please." Mary directed the three maids carrying in loads of parcels and boxes.

Emily's "Thank you." Was lost as Mary directed the staff, all the while divesting herself of her hat, jacket and gloves.

Finally, the older women turned back to find Emily now in her shift and bloomers. With only Ann and Mary left in the room and the door firmly shut. Emily finished removing the last of her clothing, while Ann made sure all was ready for Emily's bath.

Settled into the bath, Ann removed the ribbons from Emily's hair and finger-combed the strands from their earlier confined plait.

Mary took a seat near the fire facing Emily. She rubbed her swollen tummy with a fond smile. "I know you don't know me a'tall. I married Woodbury less than a year ago, but have been most fortunate in both my first and now my second husbands."

While Mary went on to explain her successful relations with her husband, she had both Emily and Ann's rapt attention.

"So, you can see why having an Aunt who is also a...companion, give me advice for a successful marriage was essential as a partner in the bed sport." Mary finished her story with a clap of her hands, breaking her spell over the other two women who both stared at her with open mouths.

Only then did Emily realize her water had cooled; her hair not even washed yet!

Both Ann and Emily looked at one another shook their heads and quickly got busy with her absolution.

Emily sat before the now stoked fire in her wrapper, while Ann brushed out her freshly washed hair. Mary began to tear open the parcels. Holding out each item for Emily to inspect, and explained their uses.

"I think this is perfect as a trousseau." Gowns, jewellery, lingerie, toiletries, and even lip stain, plus laces, ribbons, bed linens and bath towels, all littered the bed as Mary pulled item after item from the bundles she brought. She looked at Emily hopefully.

"This is all for me?" Emily asked in amazement.

Mary gave the younger woman and a beaming smile. "Of course, it is for you, when Ashford sent his note explaining you didn't have a riding habit. I just knew that this could be my wedding gift for you?" Mary fidgeted and for the first time looked uncertain.

Ann quickly pulled the brush away as Emily with tears in her eyes bound out of her seat and rushed over to Mary enveloping her in a hug.

"It is so perfect, perfectly perfect!" The two held one another for a moment. Emily pulled back and looked into Mary's eyes. "Thank you so very much, I...I love it all."

The two women pulled back from one another, when a small knock sounded on the door, along with a small whining voice. "Momma, I'n hungry!" demanded the voice from the hall.

"Me too." Echoed another."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Their timing is horrid, let me tell you."

Emily nodded and Ann held open the door to the two small blond boys standing on the other side.

"Well come along, and meet your cousin Emily." Mary quickly introduced the children and Emily.

"Come, Thomas, she's not even dressed yet!" Cedric complained to his younger brother as he led the boy away. Thomas looked at Emily with disappointment and sighed, turned to follow his older brother.

With the door shut, the women laughed. "Ann we will need to hurry, so those poor lads don't perish." Emily chortled.

Between Ann and Mary, they had Emily dressed, coiffed, and Mary put to right in short order.

"See, did I not tell you they would be along directly, your momma just needed to know how ravenous we all were," Drake said to the children who sat glaring at the door. He sent an amused knowing look to his wife as she entered the room.

Mary suggested to Emily, as the bride she should wait a moment so she could make an entrance once Mary was clear of the parlour entry.

Mary moved next to Drake and Cedric, and all eyes turned to the door.

Brent stopped fussing with his waistcoat when Emily appeared, his mouth dropped open and he forgot to breathe.

Her hair usually plaited, now loose down her back in a golden blonde cascade of curls, her violet eyes, even more, luminesce, with coal darkened lashes. Her lips, bee-stung plump, and berry red drew his eyes with a hunger he never experienced before.

The rose silk gown further emphasized Emily's petite waist and the creamy texture of her smooth skin.

Brent felt lightheaded and quickly gasped for air. "Bloody hell." He muttered; his eyes fixed on his bride as he moved over to take her hand in his. Lifting her tiny fingers to his lips, even as his eyes continued to search out hers.

His gaze locked with hers, he gave her a deep bow. "Never has the world see a more enchanting bride. I am most fortunate in my consort."

"Come, my lovely, let us finish this repast, so we can get rid of this rabble." Brent ignored his cousins' gasps and comments as he led Emily into the dining room where the staff had laid out breakfast for the family and the Reverend who would perform their wedding.

With most wedding breakfasts taking place after the nuptials, Brent's housekeeper suggested the breakfast first to keep the children from rebelling.

A good thing too, since Douglas was fast asleep in his Nurses' lap, his blonde hair crusted with jam and eggs. Thomas fascinated with his sticky fingers, was opening and closing his hand and watching the skin pull. Cedric the only one clean just looked bored.

Emily beamed as Brent handed her a bouquet of wildflowers, wrapped in her tattered ribbon. They stood before the Reverend preparing to commit to one another, with the Woodbury's standing as witnesses for them.

Once the Reverend pronounced them man and wife and suggested a salutation. Brent leaned forward and kissed his bride's forehead in front of a horrified Cedrick, who promptly protested. Only to be hushed by his mother. Drake laughingly pulled the boy to him and assured the six-year-old that one day, he would want to kiss some young lady.

Shaking his blonde curly head, Cedrick made a face and ran off to find his horse. Horses didn't expect kisses.

Emily looked magnificent in her dress and Brent couldn't wait to show her exactly how beautiful he found his new wife.

She was most nervous and extremely anxious about how he would act once they were alone. Emily conceded she had enjoyed sleeping in his arms last night, but could she give herself to him as Mary explained in Graphic Detail!

The housekeeper and staff all assembled in the drawing-room, to wish the couple every happiness. Cook brought out a wonderful cake and tea, which instantly caught Thomas's attention.

After tea and cake, their guests reluctantly departed, with Brent's broad hints for them to hurry home. Drake teased the groom by one delay after another. Before the Earl good-naturedly pushed his best friend and cousin out the door.

###  Chapter 17

Brent approached Emily and asked her to come upstairs with him. Her knees were like jelly, but she followed him. He opened his bedroom door, now their shared quarters, allowed her in and then shut it.

"What are you doing?" She managed to squeak out.

"I wanted to change out of my formal clothes, I thought you might want the same. I also wanted to ask why you pushed at me and ducked your face away during our wedding kiss."

Her cheeks burned bright red, "I've never kissed before, and I don't..." She waved her hand flustered.

"Turn around so I can undo the buttons on your dress." He advised calmly. While Emily was far from calm.

"Ann?" She asked hopefully.

"Will attend you tomorrow. Today I will serve you. Let us get changed, then we can spend the afternoon getting to know each other better."

"I'm not changing in front of you." She panicked and backed up.

"There is a screen in the corner, but I think you'll need help with the buttons is all." He calmly and patiently explained and watched as Emily's frightened gaze flew to the screen, and finally nodded.

She turned and allowed him to undo the buttons. He began at the top and soon realized she only wore sheer chamise beneath her dress. The skin, of her neck and shoulders which he stroked while unbuttoning her dress, was as silky smooth as her arm. He could feel his cock begin to twitch and stir. The buttons continued down the back of the dress and ended just below her waist. When he finished, he ran his hand up her back, and onto the base of her neck. She quickly turned around, holding her dress over her chest.

"I couldn't help it, your skin is so soft and smooth, I'm very attracted to you," Brent admitted.

Without a word, Emily turned and disappeared behind the screen to change into a plain dress. When she re-emerged, he was fully dressed as well.

"I had Cook pack a meal, we can go back to the pond, get to know each other and have dinner?"

Emily smiled shyly and nodded.

Brent smiled and followed his wife, he silent tasted the word. 'Wife!'

He was still bemused by her riding astride with no saddle. She reminded him of a porcelain doll, and yet she easily stood next to her brute of a horse and vaulted into its back, without a leg up or steps. In skirts no less?

She moved with quick grace, and her arresting eyes and curves drew him, unlike any woman before. He was looking forward to pulling her golden curls from that confining braid she always wore. Yes, there was much he wanted to do with this new 'Wife' of his.

Emily cried out in delight at the repast set up by the pond. Not only was there a food hamper, wine chilling in the cool water, but a large blanket and pillows for lounging. She let Brent help her slide down from Zeus and along his front, the skirt on her dress caught on one of his buttons on the front of the breeches. Brent let her step back while he unhooked the loose thread from his button making it worse by his shaft pushing and straining the material at the placket.

There was no mistaking his desire, breeches hardly hid his need and in only shirtsleeves, he had no way of disguising his erection, then again, he wanted her to look. He wanted her curious to know him. Emily willingly stroking his cock was only one of his goals this afternoon.

He held her hand as he led her to the blanket before they stepped on the cloth, she dropped to her knees and began removing her riding boots. Any clothing she wanted off, he was happy to oblige, sitting next to her he pulled off his boots and set them next to hers.

Taking her stocking foot, he slid his hand up her thigh, found the fastener on her stocking and pulled the string. Letting his fingertips carefully graze her smooth skin as he pulled first one stocking off and then the next. He nearly let his smile loose when she shivered and quickly pulled away. If he wasn't mistaken, his pretty little wife forgot her bloomers?

Turning she bent over to push up and walked over to the water, lifting her skirts, she carefully climbed up on the rocks and found a spot in the sun. Careful to keep the fabric dry, she sat and basked in the heated rays, while she dipped her bare toes on the cool water.

"Do you want to go in, he asked casually."

She bit her lip and looked at him through her lashes, "later?"

Was she flirting?

He moved up behind her, sitting so she was between his hard thighs, pulling on her shoulders. She let him lean her back on his chest. Soon she relaxed and settled back.

When he realized she dozed off, he took a moment to appreciate her beautiful golden blonde locks that escaped from her braid. He carefully released her confined hair and watched the way it curled all over her shoulders. He played with a curl and watched as it wrapped around his finger.

Her skin was cool but silky smooth, and she smelled like cinnamon, he lifts the curl to brush his lips with the ends. Her hair was very long, longer than he first thought. He wondered how it would feel to have it draped over his naked chest.

He looked down as she turned to her side to snuggle into him, moving his legs to better cradle her close. Her full pink lips, and her perfect little nose crinkled when he tickles it with the hair still wrapped around his finger.

He sighed and looked away, watching the water ripple as it moved over and around the rocks. When his arms and back began to protest the position, he held for so long, he moved to shift Emily. Only to have her push up from his chest. She looked around befuddled and pushed at the hair hanging in her face.

She pulled the golden locks around and bunched it, looking for her ribbon. Brent held it up and away. "Leave it." He said quietly as he stroked a hand over her hair.

She blushed and looked away, reluctantly letting her hair fall from her grasp.

He noticed when she looked at the basket sitting in the cool shade. "Are you hungry? You hardly touched your breakfast." Brent picked her up, rather than nudging her to move. Carefully he sat them on the blanket and pulled the hamper closer.

"Hmm, Cook has done well by us!" He held out a bowl to her, it was filled with lush plump strawberries. Without releasing her, Brent held her close as he continued to offer one delicacy after another. Cheeses, boned chicken strips, pickled mushrooms and cucumbers, strawberries and raspberries. Only once did he let go of Emily, it was to retrieve the wine, and pour them each a glass.

Repacking the basket, he tucked it back close to the water in the shade.

"Now that you have rested and eaten, are you ready to get wet?" He teased.

Emily grinned back at him and nodded.

Brent stood and began shucking his clothes, when Emily stood up and turned her back, grasping the hem she gathered the skirt and pulled the dress up over her head. Brent forgot to breathe, not only was she missing her bloomers, but so to was her chamise.

She was completely naked under the dress. Looking at him over her shoulder, she couldn't stop the slight smile at his shocked expression.

Stepping carefully into the water, only once she was submerged to her neck did Brent gather his wits and continued to unbutton his breeches, made more difficult by the raging erection putting pressure on the placket.

With his cock free and slapping at his stomach, Brent hurried into the water, mindful of Emily's curious scrutiny. He let his hand slide around her trim waist when she shivered, he pulled her close. Moving them into the centre of the upper pool so they would have the warmth from the sun.

Brent hooked his hands under her buttocks and lifted Emily up along his torso and licked at those berry red nips, pulled tight from the cool water. Sucking and licking at the tight bud, Emily moaned and wrapped her arms around his head as he worshipped her teats.

She loved the feel of his large hands holder her up so he had access to her breasts.

His clever fingers were far from still as they kneaded and stroked her slit, delving deep into her crevasse.

She wriggled and he pulled her close, helping her wrap her legs around his waist. Now with her more fully open to his exploration, Brent took full advantage stroking and petting at her nether lips, all the while his mouth moved from left breast and then the right and back again. Teasing, nipping and laving at her turgent nipples.

Both of them slick from the water made sliding against one another an erotic glide. Made even more so as he found her dew gather copious on his fingertips.

Using her moisture to ease his finger into her passage, careful to not breach too far as to cause her pain. Setting up a patterned thrust, he let Emily squirm and wriggle on the digits he provided. Letting her take her pleasure.

She leaned down and laid her cheek on his head as he never let up on left breast and switched, she whimpered in frustration at the shallow thrusts of his finger and tried to push down further on his accommodating digit.

Brent, let the nipple in his mouth loose and still holding Emily in his arms, he carefully moved them out of the water and laid her back on the blanket, her legs still wrapped around his waist. She clung to his head and pulled on his neck. Trying to get his mouth back to her wanting flesh.

Oh, how she wanted, nay burned for his touch, his greedy feasting. A libidinous expectancy was as heavy, as the thick scent around them.

Emily's chaste need had him throbbing, his engorged shaft full to bursting.

Brent let her pull him in. Even as his flared head spread her delicate petals and breached her tight sheath, he felt the thin film that guarded her chastity rupture to his pressing need.

His lips and teeth nipped at her little rose tipped buds, taking the sting from her lost innocence.

Holding himself still, his weight barely there, even as his lips and teeth continue to ravish her breasts, first one and then the other.

He took her from hurt to hurtling into a wanton desire for more, yes more!

Her hips lifted in the quest. Lifted to find that joining. Lifting to find that completion. Brent groaned as he gave her his weight, his length, filling her, completely snuggling into her wet heat.

She whimpered a denial as he pulled away, and cried out as he slid home again. Soon she caught on to his pushing and pulling, and joined in the dance he led.

Soon she heaved up, throwing her hips up in this fantastical dance, an instinctive movement outside her conscious power.

Clawing as his back she pulled him into her, pressing her chest to his. Arching into the bristly rasp of his chest hair against her over-sensitized bosom.

He pulled at her legs, wrapping them around his hips, her heels pressing into his flexing buttocks urging him on.

Race to? She knew not where?

Only that there was a finish line!

Finally, she concentrated on the feeling of his thick broad shaft, rubbing and thrusting in her slick passage, she concentrated on that glorious feeling as he glided in and out. Drawing her further into his web, she willingly followed.

Emily heaved, and whimpered, crying out as she felt the yawning abyss pull her under, swallowing her whole.

His final thrust pushed her forward and she grabbed at him, even as he grunted and she felt his throbbing release. Dropping to her side Bent took her with him, leaving her draped over his chest. His large broad hand cupped her right buttocks. While his other hand petted at her head, pushing her hair back off her sweating forehead.

"Are you all right?" He asked as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Hmm." She answered drowsily, even as she snuggled into his neck and dropped into an exhausted slumber.

Careful to prevent waking his wife, Brent shifted them to the edge of the blanket and pulled the rest of the fabric over to cover her, before he too joins her in an afternoon nap.

### Chapter 18

Three Years Later

Lord Ashford, and Lord Woodbury stood to greet the newest arrival just being announced by the Newbattle butler. "Edmond very good to see you out and about." Drake gave his brother-in-law Edmond Beauford the Duke of Somerset a hearty back slapping, arm pumping greeting.

With greetings taken care of and drinks in hand the three men took their seats in the drawing room.

"How are you getting along Drake." Edmond asked.

"Too good, I am afraid. Mary is increasing again and has me tied to her apron strings." Drake complained good naturedly.

"Father." Seven-year-old Thomas barreled into the room. He stopped short upon spying the new arrival. The boy gave a bow. "Your grace," The boy greets Beauford.

"Lord Thomas, you are looking fit and tall." The Duke returned the lads greeting. The boy grinned and nodded an agreement.

"I plan on getting taller yet sir, Cedrick needs a serious thrashing." Thomas joked, before turning back to his father.

"Father, Cedrick, Edward and I were wondering if we could take a ride."

"So long as Darcy is along." Drake agrees.

"Thank you, sir." Thomas gave a nod to the other men and raced from the room.

"The boy has become nearly as horse mad as Cedrick?" Edmond asked.

Brent snorted and Drake and he shared a grin.

"Emily has them both riding sans saddle and without a leg up." Brent explained with some pride.

Edmond's boom laugh filled the room.

"No luck keeping that wife of yours off her beast?"

"Not a'tall, even when she is increasing, I threatened to paddle her arse, the chit had the audacity to flip her skirts up and bend over." Brent shook his head, the twinkle in his blue grey eyes belied the growling tone. "Mary has been a bad influence on m'wife."

Edmond leans back in his chair, "and yet, here you sit in Newbattle Hall, drinking and most likely eating a fine meal with your host and hostess."

"Of course, when your wife tells you she fancies a visit, what is a man to do."

"Another one wrapped up in his wife's apron strings."

"Precisely." Brent boasts.

"I should have known this was a poor idea to visit you two deliriously happy gullible fools." Edmond admitted glumly.

"We are fools, sorry old chap." Drake sat forward in his seat, worry knitting his brow. "Bloody rotten of us to go on with our marital bliss, with you just out of mourning"

"He's right Edmond, very sorry for our callousness." Brent quickly adds his own apology.

"I miss Margaret and have to admit to being bloody angry with her too." Edmond tosses back his drink and gets up to refill his own glass. The three men have been close friends for years and do not stand on ceremony with one another.

Throwing his brother in-law, a surprised look. "Whatever for," Drake protests.

"She was so bloody determined to have a child, and now look where we are. Both she and the child are buried in the family cemetery." Edmond muttered finishing his drink and quickly pours another. Brent and Drake shared a look as they watch the Duke drown his sorrows.

Drake rang the bell to have a new bottle of scotch brought. When the butler opens the door, its as the most recent addition to their staff is ushering the children up the stairs.

Drake gives his request to the butler, only to have all eyes in the room fly to the Duke of Somerset.

"Bloody hell!" The Duke exclaims, as he slams his glass down on the drink tray and storms to the bottom of the stairs. "Collene?"

The buxom redhead stops and slowly turns to look down at the man shouting her name, grasping the newel post like it was a life line. She shifts the child on her hip, her lips silently moving, before her eyes shift away and she bobs a curtsey. "Your Grace." She croaks.

"What are you doing here?" He demands.

"I am the Marquess children's nurse."

"Bloody hell!" He shouts, turning on Drake. "What is Roxburghe's sister doing here, looking after your get?" Edmond demands of Woodbury.

"Edmond! Please!" She moves to come down the stairs and then rethinks the move, taking up Donald's' hand and ushers the boy and his two younger siblings up the stairs.

Drake leads the bewildered man back into the drawing room. "Edmond?" Drakes waves a hand at the stairs. Not sure how to handle this side of his friend he has never seen.

Brent and Drake watch as the man drops onto the settee, scrubbing a hand over his face. Drake nods to the butler to shut the doors.

Once they are alone, Drake contemplates pouring another measure for the Duke, then reconsidered the move, Edmond has had more than enough so early in the day.

"Explain what the hell she is doing here." After a moment the Duke demands as he stand and walks over to the window.

"You must have heard Bowmount was killed, the new Earl and his wife gave Mrs. Bowmount few choices." Drake picked up his tumbler and toss the liquor back. "She has been working as a nurse since."

"Why the hell didn't Roxburghe see to her keep?"

"I can not answer that for you, you will need to ask Roxburghe or Mrs. Bowmount."

"Father?" Thomas interrupts the adults again, this time with a bright red-haired child in tow. "Edward and I are to report to you, sir." The boy admits to his father with blushes staining both boys' cheeks.

Thomas swallows and looks at his companion. "Mother caught us on Zeus." The boy confesses.

Brent surges to his feet with a horrified bellow, before anyone can say anything further, the Duke of Somerset crosses the room to the boys in four long strides and grasps Thomas companion by the shoulders and stares into the boy's face.

"What is your name." The duke demands.

"Edward your Grace." The boy tries to shake loose of the tight grip on his shirt sleeve.

"Who is your mother?"

"Mrs. Bowmount milord."

"How old are you?"

"Six milord."

"Your father?"

"The Earl of Bowmount." The boy answered, confusion marring his face as he looks at the adults staring at him.

"Drake see to the boys, but don't let this one leave." The Duke demands as he flings the doors open and mounts the stairs to find Edward's mother.

The End.

###  Chapter 19

Excerpt from Dancing with the Dragon

Running through the door undoing her overalls, she felt them sliding off as she slammed through the lady's washroom door. Leaving them lying on the floor she kicked her steel-toed boots into the corner.

Dropping her bag on the counter she dug through it; and pulled out her tap pants, losing a high heel in the process. Slipping on the tap pants, she blindly hunted around on the floor with her bare toes, searching for the dropped high heal, while she dove back into the bag for the other shoe.

With both heels on, in tap pants and a t-shirt that read 'remember my name because you'll be screaming it later!' she left the lady's bathroom with clothes thrown about and hightailed it to the studio.

"Nicole you made it on time for a change," said a sarcastic, sexy as hell, accented voice. Nicole took a quick look at the dark-haired, gorgeous man leaning against the door frame waiting for her.

'He's such a prick' she thought. "You made such a big deal about it last time Dragoslav, I'm here, let's shake a leg."

She let the ridiculously handsome man slide his arm around her waist. While she placed her left hand in his, he led her out onto the dance room floor. Dragoslav easily fitting them in with the other couples waltzing by.

Nicole saw Ashley and Kristijan effortlessly glide past.

The reason she was here was for Ashley, her best friend since third grade. Damn! 'What you don't do for your friends,' she thought.

Ashley was marrying Kristijan, Dragoslav's younger brother in three months. And because Nicole could neither dance nor walk with any grace in high heels, these lessons were mostly for her.

Plus, Ashley and Kristijan thought this would be a great way for the wedding party to get better acquainted. Nicole was also certain that the wedding planner was trying to head off a disaster in a dress. Namely herself Nicole!

So far everything WEDDING was chugging along beautifully, thanks to the wedding planner, a Miss Martha Steward. Nicole wasn't sure if this was Martha's real name 'cause really there is only one Martha Stewart,' but the women certainly seemed knew what she was doing.

When Ashley showed Martha a picture of the bridal dress she wanted, the woman knew exactly which shops in the city to go to, the same for the bridesmaid's dresses. she arranged for all the fittings. It was during one of these fittings Miss Martha discovered Nicole did not wear dresses, did not wear high heels, and did not know how to dance.

So here she was twirling around on hellish mini stilts, being dragged around by a Serbian asshole adonis. Who had a nasty disposition and loved to spend the 45 minutes they were supposed to be learning dance, complaining about his dance partner?

"Why do you smell like motor oil?" He asked as he leaned away with a wrinkled nose, Nicole sighed, ground her teeth, before plastering on a fake smile

"Okay again, for the slow one, I. WORK.WITH. MOTOR. OIL."

"What's that thing on your head?"

"It's a skull cap, it keeps my hair from starting on fire!"

"By the way it's Wednesday." Nicole looked at him as if to say...and? "You're wearing your Monday panties."

'He's such a prick,' she thought and could feel her face heating.

"Hey Nikki, were going over to Kristijan's after," Ashley said as she and Kristijan swept by.

Trying to dance, put up with Dragos smashing attitude, and do it all on stilts was about the limit of Nicole's coordinating abilities. To through in turning to look at someone and answer them was asking for trouble, and sure enough. When Nicole turned to look over her shoulder at Ashley, she felt her left heel slide sideways off the damn shoe.

"Shit!" She could feel herself toppling over onto her ankle when she was swept up and hefted into Dragoslav arms.

"You're not really a lightweight, are you?" He said as he safely set Nicole down on her feet.

It was these types of comments that made her want to punch him in the throat. She glared at him.

At five feet, six inches tall she weighed one hundred and forty pounds, which would be on the heavy side if it wasn't all muscle.

Her job required her to hold awkward positions for long periods, as a welder, it made sense to make fitness a number one priority. It would be easy to let herself go, and then spend too much time and money at the chiropractor's office.

"That's nearly as stupid as asking a woman her age." She snarled as she kicked Dragoslav in the shin and stalked away.

When Predrag and Megan waltzed by Nicole asked if they could switch partners. Predrag and Megan agreed. "Nikki hon, you're gonna have to dance with him at the wedding," Megan said as walked over to Dragos who was glaring at Nicole.

"Thanks, Predrag." Nicole admired the man who was holding her. At least this brother was never rude to her. She looked around at all four Milosevic men and had to admit, they sure were something. They all reminded her of Guy Fedrizzi the epitome of tall dark and hotty. With the most amazing blue eyes, they all looked identical and could be mistaken for quadruplets.

Dragoslav the eldest was thirty-eight and ran some kind of import business. Thirty-six-year-old Kristijan a computer geek was Ashley's boss and soon to be husband. Predrag and Vasilije the youngster brothers both worked for their family's business whatever that was.

Ashley swore that the youngest Milosevic and only daughter Milinka looked like Cobie Smulders, whoever that was, with the same startling blue eyes as her brothers. Regardless who they looked like, they sure were a beautiful family and rich to boot.

After a couple of turns around the dance floor Nicole was feeling pretty good, no mishaps and no snide comments from her dance partner. Life was good.

Then Dragos cut in, all her good feelings went to hell. When Predrag stepped back for Dragoslav to take her, Nicole looked at him standing there ready to put his arm around her again and decided enough was enough.

"No! I don't want to dance with you. I don't want you touching me. We know enough to get by for the wedding." With Predrag and Megan watching, she stormed off to the bathroom to put her running shoes on, and gather her clothing.

While sitting on a toilet she laced up her shoes, the door opened and Ashley, Megan, and Jennifer came crowding in. When Ashley opened her mouth, Nicole held up her hand.

"Ashley, I love you and will do almost anything for you, just not this. I know enough to be able to get through the wedding and I promise to wear high heels at every opportunity to practice. But I can't tolerate him."

"I don't understand, Dragoslav is so wonderful most of the time," Ashley whined.

"Every week when we're here he picks and needles me, constantly making snide comments." Nicole could feel the burning in her nose and knew she was close to crying. And damn it, she never cried!

"That's the part I don't get, he is always a gentleman. I can't imagine him being rude."

Nicole took a deep breath and let it out. She'd tried for the last four weeks to keep her composure and never complained because this was Ashley's new family. She didn't want her best friend to have any hard feelings towards the Milosevic family, or have to choose between her friends and the Kristijan. But tonight, was going too far.

"Trust me he can be rude."

"Well, are you sure you didn't say something to set him off. You're no walk in the park where men are concerned."

"So far, he's made comments about my red hair, the way I smell. Last week he said something nasty about getting a man at work, and when I told him he was being rude, he told me to RELAX." She stood and began to gather her clothing off the floor.

"Tonight, he told me I was...was...was fat." Nicole could feel the tears burning her eyes, and turned back to putting her stuff away in her bag when her best friends gasped. Megan put her arms around Nicole's shoulders and that made it worse. Nicole began to cry. Quickly pushing everything into her bag, she hugged Megan back, snagged her works boots, shook her head at the girls, and left, unable to say anything else for fear of totally losing it.

Dragos leaned against the wall with his arms crossed watching the bathroom door where Nicole and Ashley with her bridesmaids were all congregated. 'Why do women go to the bathroom in flocks,' he wondered?

When the door opened and Nicole came out carrying her bag, her big brown tear-filled eyes speared him. He caught his breath. He straightened to go over to her and she fled.

The door to the bathroom opened and three very angry women stood in the doorway glaring at him. 'Damn' he thought 'here comes the posse.'

Tiny blonde Ashley marched up to him and drilled a finger into his chest. "You called her fat?!"

"I certainly did not call her fat." He said surprised.

"So, you didn't mention her weight?" She asked. When he hesitated, she folded her arms and glared?

"I may have mentioned her weight?"

The women, even his sister looked madder than hell, and his brothers looked at him in sympathy.

"When I caught her all I said was that she was...ah hell." He ran his hand through his black hair in frustration. "There is no winning with you women." He muttered.

"And that's why you're still single." His sister Milinka snapped.

Kristijan wrapped his arm around Ashley's waist and turned them away for privacy. They had a low conversation; he kissed his bride and then turned to everyone.

"We're going back to my place, you're all welcome to join us." He told everyone, and then he walked over to Dragoslav.

"I'm not sure what's going on with you, but fix this." Kristijan gave Dragoslav a clap on the shoulder.

Dragos leaned against the wall and thought about all his run-ins with Nicole. He realized that with her, he was more often finding fault and various ways to piss her off.

When Dragoslav drove up to the address he was given by Ashley, he was surprised; Nicole lived in a tiny old house in an older neighbourhood, rather than in an apartment or a newer home.

The house was freshly painted a creamy yellow with bright white shutters and trim. The roof and brick-lined pathway to the door were new with a beautiful white wrought iron fence and gate across the front. The gate was a piece of art, in a series of swirls and leaves.

Very impressed, he let himself through the gate and took his time looking at her home. The trim on the door and window were white and the door itself was thick solid wood planks, stained a dark burgundy, with iron bands, hinges and fixtures. Even the doorbell was spectacular.

The whole house screamed house proud and was very well cared for. He would like to see it at the height of summer when all the flower beds were in bloom.

Pressing the doorbell, he waited. Then tried again? Still with no one answering the door. He looked around and turned to leave when he heard a clang. He followed the sounds of metal banging on metal coming from the back of the house. Under a carport on the side of an old garage was Nicole's red pickup. The garage man door stood open and he stepped inside to sweltering heat.

Nicole stood with her left side to the door, in jeans, work boots and a tiny t-shirt that read mmmm ∏, she had her red curly mop pulled back in a ponytail with a bright pink skull cap on. She was bent at the waist, her left hand holding a set of large tongs, clamping a piece of metal she held on an anvil.

Dragoslav watched as she pushed down the face shield, heated the metal with a torch, and then began hitting it with a large hammer. As she beating the hell out of the red-hot metal, he was certain it was him she thought of.

She set the hammer down; and then the now grey metal piece on the workbench, and stood back to study it. He saw her flexing her fingers and noticed the definition in her arms. There was not an ounce of fat on her slim form.

He shifts uncomfortably and it drew her attention to him. He saw her begin to reach for the hammer and then stop. He grinned. "Thanks."

"What are you doing here?" She watched him wearily and moved behind another of her workbenches placed in the middle of the room. It was only knee height but enough to slow him down if he made a move towards her.

His gut clenched, that she felt she needed to place herself in a defensive position, left him with a hollow sick feeling.

"Your right! I've been a total jerk with you." He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath. He looked away and she saw him grind his teeth, the muscles in his cheeks flexing.

"You want me to help you with this?" He looked at her in surprise, at her quiet comment.

She had a wry grin, and then it dropped away. "Repeat after me. I was wrong....you were right....and I'm sorry." She watched him as she removed the face shield, and laid it down on the bench.

Dragos took a deep breath and then snorted. "I was wrong, you were right to be mad at me, and I'm sorry." She walked over and patted him on his upper arm.

"See that wasn't so hard."

"Move!"

Dragos spun around and pulled Nicole behind him, as he stepped aside and faced the door. A redheaded giant held an arm full of metal pieces. The big man shifted his load and ducked through the door. He carefully laid the metal down on the floor by a series of shelves on the wall opposite the main workbench.

"Hey Niknik, I picked this up when I was at the wreckers." The giant brushed off his hands and reached out and snagged Nicole from Dragos. He wrapped an arm around her head and mashed her face into his chest, dropped a kiss on the top of her head, before releasing her.

He jerked a chin in Dragoslav's direction.

"Who's he?"

"Dragoslav Milosevic, this is my brother Linden."

Dragos held out his hand and had it engulfed by Linden's meaty paw. This man could break him like a toothpick Dragos thought.

"You datin my sister?"

Nicole wanted to disappear.

"I'm Kristijan's brother." Linden looked at Nicole in confusion.

"Ashley's fiancé."

"Oh right, the computer guy."

Linden leaned back on his heels with his arms crossed and watched Dragoslav and Nicole.

"Thanks for stopping by Dragoslav." Nicole fumbled, wishing Linden would just go into the house and loiter there. Knowing there was no moving him when he's feeling nosy.

"Will you be at the dance studio next week?" Dragoslav asked.

Nicole hesitated and chewed on her bottom lip. "I don't think so."

"Please Nicole, I promise to be on my best behaviour." He saw her brother drop his folded arms and straighten up. Dragos braced to be punch, Linden looked at Nicole.

"What does he mean?" Linden growled at Nicole.

"Nothing Linden." Nicole said at the same time Dragos said, "she thinks I called her fat."

"You called her fat, you're a dumb somabitch arentcha." Linden smirked.

"I didn't say she was fat. I merely noted that she's heavier than she appears." Nicole was getting that mutinous expression again. "Shit."

"Listen..." He tried again.

Linden slapped a hand on Dragos's shoulder, almost knocking him off his feet. "Stop while you're ahead," Linden interrupted.

"But she's so tiny and tight." Dragos sputtered.

"Really, you want to say that in front of me?" Linden snarled.

Dragos sighed. He already made a total fool out of himself around Nicole these past four weeks, plus making her cry.

Now her brother was looking at him like he was the dumbest thing on two legs. He ignored Linden and looked at Nicole.

"I hope you can forgive me and be there next Wednesday." Turning he left the garage. The late cold March breeze felt colder after the heat of Nicole's garage and her bright shiny hair.

The ebook Dancing with the Dragon is available at most booksellers or: <https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/478598>

### About the Author

I'm a Canadian, living with my husband and our very spoiled Sheltie x Shepard Danny, in a beautiful rural setting with the majestic mountains as my backdrop!

I'm a bit of a redneck, but I refuse to wear camo, it's too tacky! Have you seen the pink camo under clothing, what is wrong with people!

I will and do read anything including the back of cereal boxes.

I'm banking on your standards being a lot lower than mine. So, I took up writing, and love every moment I get to spend with the characters, my various personalities create!

Please feel free to write or comment on my stories, profile, or if you just want to vent!

It's all cool.

Take care of yourself!

Autumn

Autumnknight@writeme.com

