Chapter 10

Henry drunkenly stumbled into the bedroom, startling his wife Marianne as she went about her nightly routine. “You are far too shy Mary,” he rudely slurred out, noticing her jump to hurriedly cover herself at his intrusion, out of the corner of his eye. Sighing heavily he slumped into one of the chairs his resentful gaze falling upon his boots that seemed so far from his grasp.

“I am truly sorry that I am not as worldly as you would prefer,” Marianne seethed quietly, turning her startled and shy gaze upon her thoroughly drunk husband. Sighing quietly to herself, for every night, with the exception of their wedding night, Henry had come to her in this state tossing out mild insults in regards to her morals. A rapidly growing concern for her considering his consumption of spirits seemed to be getting worse with each passing day.

Sarcastically Henry crookedly grinned upon her as he attempted to sort out the jumbled words that swam in through his mind. Unsteadily he stood and turned to rake his gaze over Marianne’s corseted figure, the unmistakable heat pooling in his loins. “How about we remedy your lack of knowledge,” he darkly grinned. “You come over here and help me undress and I shall teach you the worldly ways I desire…” the lustful laugh he produced obviously disconcerting to his bride as her eyes went wide with shock and her pale cheeks darkened with rage. Maddeningly slow, he scanned over her body; although Marianne did not contain the soft, ethereal and genteel beauty, Ava had. Henry had to admit she was indeed handsome, a definite prize upon his arm at any social gathering and with luck she would produce handsome children.

Her entire body blushed under Henry’s lecherous gaze, she knew he desired her body, yet could not bear to let him touch her. Especially after the night he took her innocence, that fateful night when during the heat of his passion he had cried out for the one in which he could never have… “My lord, you are foxed.” She frowned, taking a fearful step back as he stumbled towards her.

She herself had been un-desiring of the union, yet knew that without his title, and his heir her family would be forced to relinquish their noble title to a dreaded cousin. A cold chill crept through her body, despite the heat of the fire that burned against her back. Truly, Marianne did not wish his hands upon her, for how could she fulfill her wifely duties when his heart belonged to another and knew that he would go to the woman at the first presented opportunity…

“Yes my sweet, I am drunk…” Henry slurred lowering his face to hers, his liquor soaked breath invading her senses. “Yet you may find you enjoy it better that way,” he grinned. Deep in his mind, Henry knew that he had injured her fragile sensibilities on their wedding night; an injury that had cost him nearly a month of celibacy and he was tired of waiting. “Please Mary, do not treat me as a dog begging for a scrap of meat,” he cooed softly, stroking her soft cheek with the palm of his hand. “I will do anything, to make it up to you. I have already apologized every day for my lack of senses.” He continued, keeping his voice monotone despite his anger when she turned away from him.

Marianne stood still, barely breathing as Henry snaked his hand about her waist; she knew she could not legally deny him, yet she still did not desire his touch. He had truly hurt her, what woman in her right mind would ever enjoy having her husband, whether in love or not, cry out for another. “Henry, I do not wish to be the physical manifestation of your day dreams, and until you can touch me without envisioning her I shall not lie with you.” She whispered biting her tongue to hold back the squeak of surprise as his hand forcefully pushed upon her abdomen, pushing her against his arousal…

“Feel that!” he growled angrily, against her ear, “I am not a man without needs Marianne and if this is not proof enough that you are more than a daydream to me, I will be forced to find other resources.” Henry menacingly hissed, before brusquely turning her to face him. “You are my wife…” He seethed, his sapphire eyes seemingly blackened with rage.

Marianne knew she could not hold him away for long, especially if his seed failed to take root from their only intimate moment. “I-I understand my lord,” she stammered in fear. “I-I just do not feel well,” she lied desperately wanting away from him and his anger, needing any excuse to be free of his attentions…

“Tomorrow night, you will come to me willingly, or else…” Henry threateningly snarled, before storming from her room… Unsympathetic towards her quiet weeping, uncaring that he had certainly frightened her…

Margaret had been on edge all day, waiting impatiently for Charles return from town; silently praying that he had been fortunate in his endeavor. Joseph and Michelle happily played upon the floor with the puppy that Misses Josette Carlisle, their neighbor and Margaret’s friend had gifted to them two months prior for the twins second birthday. Their joyful squeals and the puppy’s glee filled yips unable to drown out the sound of the horses hooves against the hard packed earth. Excitedly she flew from the small house out towards her husband, her eyes quickly scanning the area for a sign of the colt and filly. Her heart pounded within her breast as she realized they were not to be seen, meaning that Charles had sold them. “Well…” she breathed in excitement, as he dismounted the wagon and scooped her into his arms, his deep blue eyes twinkling with merriment.

“I have missed you Maggie,” Charles sighed against his wife’s lips before greeting her with a long smoldering kiss. Relishing the sweet, musky taste of her and the way her soft body pressed hungrily into his. Over the past three years of their marriage, he had fallen in love with his beautiful, young wife. Although he still missed Annette terribly, Charles found himself utterly in love with Margaret and found it harder and harder to be away from her; especially after he had unburdened his past secrets upon her. “I am the world’s luckiest man,” Charles whispered, inhaling a deep breath of Margaret’s, soft, rose, sun and soap smell. “To have such a lovely wife to come home to after a week of being away,” He grinned feeling her struggling in his arms as she impatiently awaited his response.

“Yes Charles, you are truly blessed and if you do not speak soon of what has happened I shall make you beg, for more favors” Margaret impatiently laughed out, gazing lovingly upon him. Drinking in every inch of his face as if it were the last time she would ever see him, the intimate yet simple gesture filling him with the unmistakable giddiness of love.

“That sounds rather tempting…Although I think it will be I who makes you beg,” Charles laughed out lustfully as he envisioned teasing and tormenting every inch of her body until she cried out for him to make love to her.

“You are positively incorrigible,” She laughed in frustration, blushing as she thought of the wicked things he would do to her this eve. “Yet you must keep yourself in check, for I am not the only one who is excited about your return.” Margaret finished, standing on her tiptoes to brush a smiling kiss against his lips. “Now tell me, or I will sleep in the children’s room this eve,” she playfully threatened.

“You would never,” Charles chuckled in feigned horror.

“Shall I let you find out, or will you tell me the news?” Margaret re-iterated, placing her hands upon her hips for emphasis.

Charles regarded Margaret with smoldering look of desire and humor, “then I must bow to my wife’s demands.” He laughed out, reaching for her slender waist only to have her step away from him in a playful tease. “Yet I must insist upon payment for my information,” he could not resist, she looked so lovely in the worn cotton dress with the sun filtering through her fiery locks, illuminating her creamy skin and golden eyes. “I have sold both the filly and the colt, and have received offers on the other four.” He proudly boasted unable to withhold the broad, amused grin as Margaret slapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes grew wide with excitement.

“A-a-all of them…” Margaret breathlessly stammered as she flung herself into Charles’s outstretched arms and fervently kissed him while tears of joy streamed over her face. She could not believe it, three years earlier she had been doubtful and altogether against, her husband’s decision to purchase the four mares. In truth she had been wary of Charles’s plan to breed them, had worried because her father had at one time attempted to breed his horses to no avail and they ended up living in poverty for nearly five years after his plans had failed.

“Yes my love, all of them,” Charles huskily whispered. “To think you were so adamant that I would fail,” he continued with a gentle nip of her earlobe. “I believe that in a few years we will have a thriving horse farm and will not have worry again over money.” He murmured closing his eyes to fight the urge to take her right there upon the ground in front of their cabin. “Maggie, can you please not do that,” he groaned as she kissed and nibbled at the curve of his neck. Each silky swipe of her tongue, every puff of her warm breath against the damp skin causing his desire to coil tighter within his groin.

“My dear husband, you requested payment for your information and in good faith I am making good my debt.” Margaret taunted with a fluttering brush of her satiny lips against his cheek, her mouth curving into a sweet and wicked smile as a low moan escaped from his throat.

“My dutiful wife,” Charles unsteadily breathed, his body quivering with need. “This form of payment is going to end up with my ravishing you here and now,” he groaned nearly sinking to the ground as her hand slid down over the broadcloth of his jacket. The warmth of the early September sun seemingly nothing in comparison to the heat of her gentle ministrations, each excruciatingly tender stroke of her fingertips seeping through his clothing and causing his body to ignite with uncontrollable desire. “Unless you care to spend the remainder of the day in bed…” Charles shakily growled, as Margaret slid her hand over his aching arousal, shattering his remaining control completely he crushed his mouth against hers in fierce need for release.

“Da!” The tinkling sound of Joseph’s and Michelle’s voices cried out in unison followed by the yipping of the puppy, as all three rushed towards him as quickly as their short legs would carry them. Charles released a shuddering sigh, and separated from his wife’s embrace a wide grin spreading over his face he scooped Michelle into his arms. A pang of guilt and sadness creeping into his heart as he silently wished that Ava and Catherine were here as well.

“Sweet princess,” He murmured against her silky chocolate colored hair, receiving an avid squeal of delight as she gazed lovingly upon him.

“Da, Jasep an I mist you,” Michelle smiled; each word seemingly exotic to her as she repeated it over and over in her angelic toddler, voice while Charles lovingly kissed her satiny cheek.

Carefully placing Michelle back on the ground, he gathered his son into his arms. “Joseph,” Charles began in a stern yet playful tone, “Did you protect your mother and Michelle while I was away?” he laughingly questioned with a playful tickle upon his son’s stomach.

“Yes, Da!” Joseph emphatically replied with a squeal of delight, “An Izabal too,” he explained all seriousness, in reference to Isabel, the puppy. “She ad a torn in er paw. An mama ad me old er, wile mama took it out.” Joseph continued, looking down for the small little puppy with concern.

“Isabel had a thorn in her paw, you don’t say.” Charles chuckled, “Well I must say you have done a capitol job,” He proudly finished. Unable to withhold the peal of laughter as Michelle squeezed the puppy affectionately…

The burn of the golden colored brandy had long since passed as Henry downed the remainder of the bittersweet liquid in the bottle. His argument with Marianne having sobered him he had stormed from the room and now once more, impatiently awaited the slow coming numbness the liquor would bring. He did not know what was wrong with him, for he had a beautiful woman to call his own, and yet ever since he had learned of Alexander’s invitation to the Wilshire manor had failed to keep his heartache and jealousy under control…

Sophia watched with a combination of intrigue, concern and amusement as her brother angrily paced before her. Smiling to herself as he turned to speak then changed his mind and began to pace yet again. She knew her brothers temperament better than anyone else and yet had to admit she had never seen him quite so up in arms before. Especially not in reference to a lady. Unable to control herself she thought back to this afternoon, when she had followed after him, against his knowledge. The blush of embarrassment returning to her cheeks as she thought of how she had come upon him and Lady Ava just in enough time to catch them lost in each other’s intimate embrace. It had been the very moment that Sophia realized whether or not she cared for Lady Ava; her brother had met his future; which was enough to turn her heart into favor for the woman.

“Sophia! Have you heard a single word I have spoken,” Alexander’s frustrated voice cut through the haze of her thoughts.

“I apologize brother, I must be more fatigued than I had thought,” Sophia sheepishly apologized, praying that her memories were not plainly written across her face. Fighting the urge to wiggle away as he penetrated her with a speculative gaze.

Alexander knew there was more to his sister’s dreamy expression than she let on, yet his mind was preoccupied at the moment with everything else that had occurred this day, so decided to temporarily let it drop. “I have suggested that you seek an audience with Lady Ava, for I feel you would rather enjoy her company.” He re-iterated, his tone filled cautious dismissal, for not only did he desire a moment to his own thoughts, yet he desperately needed to know his sister approved. For Alex knew he had met the only one he could ever give his heart too, the only woman he would ever love and without Sophie’s consent he would be forced to choose…

Sophia found her in the orangery; the young girls heart immediately softening as she stood silent, waiting for the opportune moment when Ava quieted her weeping. In conjunction with the kiss, Sophia had also overheard the entire argument and knew that this poor soul before her was trapped in the same arrangement as he. “My brother is a difficult man,” she sympathetically murmured after several minutes of quiet reserve. The sound of her voice, cutting through the humid, citrus, scented air and startling Ava.

Jumping slightly at the intrusion Ava brought her gaze from the floor and rested it upon the dark beautiful girl who stood beside her. Half smiling despite her heartache as she realized there was no denying this young woman was Alexander’s sister. With her raven hair, and hazel eyes; speculatively Ava regarded the girl, for this was the second time today she had been interrupted by a Lorenza. “I would have to disagree, for difficult is far too kind of a description for your brother,” She sighed out with a quivering breath…