His Dark Obsession (14 page)

“Ow! Ow!” complained Sarah as she tried to raise her hips to move away from the pain.

“Be still.”

Pierce thrust his fingers into her unwilling backside. Opening her. Preparing her.

“I can’t it hurts! It’s not right!” she moaned. Her stomach cramped with tension. Still he thrust.

Returning to her clit, he swirled his tongue around the small bud as he vigorously worked his fingers back and forth in her bottom. The mixture of pleasure and pain, bliss and discomfort was terrible and superb all at once. Sarah could not take it. Calling out his name, she broke free of his restraining hand. Her hips rose. Her breath hitched. Her thighs clenched against his shoulders. Her bottom clutched at his intrusive fingers. Her mind went blank to all but the blissful sweet kiss of sensual agony.

Rising on his knees, Pierce placed the head of his cock at the slick entrance of her cunny. He could feel every tremor of her release along his shaft as it pushed and forced its way inside her tight passage. Pierce clenched his jaw and prayed for restraint as her wet heat closed around him. It was all he could do not to relentlessly thrust into her soft, willing flesh.

Curling the tips of his fingers buried deep inside her bottom passage, he could feel the slide of his cock as it entered and retreated from her body.

Sarah was lost. She felt the fullness of him pushing into her body. His fingers in her naughty hole adding to the increasing pressure. Her body stretched and opened as it labored to accept his.

Pulling his fingers free, Pierce gripped her hips. Ice blue eyes bored down on her. “Look at me.”

With difficulty, Sarah met his fierce gaze.

“Say it,” he ordered brusquely.

Taking in his broad, impressive chest. The sculpted arms holding her tightly. The need burning in his eyes. She breathed, “My lord.”

Pierce thrust deep, unable to stop. His hips pounded into her. Ruthlessly taking her as his own. Making her his own.

Her delicate skin burned from the friction. Her inner thighs sore from being forced wide. Her cunny stretched and bruised. Still he thrust deep. Giving her no quarter.

One final thrust. One last brush of his bollocks along the soft under curve of her round bottom. One crowning twist of his hips.

Pierce threw his head back and came with a feral howl. Pouring his seed deep in her body. Claiming her and he would be damned if he let any man, no matter their authority, take her from him.

“So I see you received the clothes we sent over,” said Victoria

“Yes, it was so kind of you to pack some of my things for me,” responded Sarah as she nervously played with the trim on her dress.

Then…silence. It was awkward for both of them. Instead of Mrs. Needham’s cozy, slight worn drawing room, they were sitting in Lord Warrington’s formal parlor. Earlier that morning the ever-efficient Parker had sent over for some of her things. Apparently, the dress she wore yesterday was accidentally burned instead of laundered. What Sarah couldn’t understand is why they burned her shoes as well.

“This is a beautiful room,” offered Victoria.

“This is all so very odd. I’m so sorry,” said Sarah

Victoria reached over to grasp her hand. “It’s me who should apologize. Sarah, I feel terrible about what I told that constable. I was just so upset about Florence and flustered at all their questions.”

Sarah took hold of her hand. “There is nothing to apologize for, you only repeated what I foolishly said. Please tell me, like Mrs. Needham, you don’t believe I actually killed her?”

“Of course you didn’t. I’m sure it will all be sorted out.”

“Have they found Elma yet?”

“She sent word to Mrs. Needham. She was so spooked by the whole thing she fled to the home of that female painter she has been sitting for.”

The sound of rattling china and silver interrupted their conversation. A few moments later, Pierce walked through the door carrying their afternoon tea tray. Both women immediately rose to take it from him.

“Oh my!”

“Lord Warrington, you shouldn’t!”

Pierce laughed. “I can assure you I am perfectly capable of carrying a tea tray although your concern is heartwarming.”

“It really isn’t proper for you to wait on us like this,” fussed Sarah as he placed the tray between them.

“It wasn’t my intention. The parlor maid had a bit of a fall. I’m afraid your lemon seed cake was a casualty. Shall I ring Cook to prepare another plate for you both?”

“Oh! For us! We all know seed cake is your particular favorite!” teased Victoria.

Pierce was too busy staring at Sarah to pay her comment much mind. He felt a sense of ease, seeing her sitting so prettily in his parlor, as if she belonged there.
Perhaps she did? An interesting thought.

“I’m off. Walk me out?”

“Of course,” breathed Sarah. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink from his regard. “I will just be a moment, Victoria.”

Sarah followed Pierce out into the entry hall.

Wrapping his arms around her tiny waist, he touched the tip of his nose to hers. “Tell me again.”

Exasperated, Sarah sighed. “We’ve been over this three times!”

Raising his right hand, he gave her a quick spank on the bottom. Even through her heavy skirts, she could still feel a warm sting from his heavy hand. “Tell. Me. Again.”

Pouting, Sarah obeyed. “I will stay inside at all times. I will only receive Mrs. Needham or one of the girls from the studio. I will not talk to any journalists or constables.”

“And…”

“And I promise to rest and not worry,” she finished on a rush.

He gave her a tender kiss on the forehead. “Good girl. I am meeting with my barrister this morning. I am sure we will get this whole thing cleared up before the date of the assizes and grand jury.”

Sarah bit her lower lip out of nervousness. “Thank you,” she said in a low shy voice.

“For what?”

“For believing me.”

“My love, it was never a question. Now go back to your friend. I will see you in a few hours.”

“Are we going to do another photographic session?”

“If you’re good,” he said with wink before grabbing his hat and walking stick as he left.

Sarah returned to the parlor for her visit with Victoria.

~*~

Pierce returned by late afternoon. He was confident his barrister would get the indictment retracted. After a few inquiries, he learned there was no actual evidence Sarah had bought the chocolates or arsenic. There was such a large amount found in Florence’s stomach, at least 6 grains, the coroner is convinced death came within hours. Sarah had been absent all day…with him. Something he assured his barrister he would swear to in court if necessary.

The front door was open before he even alighted the stairs.

“My lord, thank god you are back!”

“What is wrong, Parker? Where is Sarah?” The cold fist of fear gripped him. A hundred scenarios played out in his mind. The worst of which was she had been dragged back to that awful prison.

Rushing into his home, he threw off his hat and coat and took the stairs two at a time. The aging Parker struggled to keep up. Pierce burst into his suite of rooms only to find them quiet and undisturbed. Turning on Parker he demanded, “Where the hell is she?”

“I put her in the blue guest room. I thought it best for propriety. The doctor is seeing to her now. I told him she was your ward.” This last bit was called out to Pierce’s back as he was already striding towards the guest wing of the house.

Pierce burst through the door as the doctor was finishing listening to Sarah’s breathing sounds.

Pierce had to grab the bed poster to steady himself. She looked so pale and worn. There was a fine sheen of perspiration on her skin. Her cheeks were flushed a scarlet red.

Running a hand over his mouth and jaw, he asked hoarsely, “What is the matter with her, Doctor?”

“Let’s discuss it in the hall.”

“No. I’m not leaving her side.” Pierce walked around the bed and picked up her small hand. It felt cold.

“This is not easy to say, but I believe your ward may have been poisoned.”

Pierce lowered his brow. “How is that possible? She has been under my care.”

“I had the cook send up the dishes from anything she ate. I was just about to examine them.”

Reluctantly, Pierce released Sarah’s hand and followed the doctor to a covered wheeled care containing the remnants of afternoon tea.

“We are fortunate, they had not washed the dishes yet.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Well if it is arsenic, as I suspect, there will be no taste or smell but…” At this, the doctor paused as he lifted the lid of the teapot. Tilted the contents to the side, he nodded his head. “Ah, here.” He gestured for Pierce to come close. “Do you see that gritty sediment at the bottom of the pot? Arsenic. It dissolves perfectly in warm beverages but turns gritty and heavy when it cools.”

Pierce ran his hand through his hair. “Arsenic?” He immediately thought of Florence. “Doctor, there was a nasty bit of business…”

“Your butler already informed me there was a death at your ward’s school was it?”

“Something like that. That woman died. Is she…is Sarah…” Pierce could not form the words. The very idea of his feisty little American beauty dying on him was untenable.

“Judging from these cups and her symptoms, I believe she will pull through.”

Pierce looked down at the teacups. One was filled to the brim, untouched. The other only about half full.

“What do we do now?”

“While she is only experiencing the mild symptoms of lethargy and nausea, there is a danger if the poison stays within her it could escalate. Some have put stock in Orfila’s antidote which is a solution of hydrated sesquioxide of iron. Other’s in having the patient consume the ashes from burned leather, still others swear by bloodletting.”

“You will not bleed her,” Pierce ordered harshly.

“No. No. No, my boy. Wouldn’t think it,” assured the elderly doctor. “If she were mine, I would do a stomach siphon, a purge. It is not pretty but it will remove the poison. I believe we caught it in time to work.”

“She is mine,” Pierce asserted as he stroked her hair, his voice having an unmistakable tint of possession. “Do the purge.”

If she is this man’s ward, I’ll eat my hat, thought the doctor.

“If you will just give me some privacy. My assistant is returning at any moment and then we will proceed.”

Pierce nodded and headed to the door, where he knew Parker would be waiting. “I want all the staff interrogated. Starting with whomever prepared the tea tray.”

“I will conduct the interviews, personally, my lord. Is she going to be well?” Parker’s face showed both strain and concern. Despite Parker’s earlier misgivings, Sarah had charmed her way into the stiffly proper British butler’s heart.
And he wasn’t the only one.

Pierce laid a comforting hand on Parker’s shoulder. “I simply won’t allow her to die. Do not forget to send a note to Mrs. Needham’s. One of her girls was visiting Sarah. I want to ensure she is fine as well.”

“As you wish, my lord,” said Parker with a bow.

Pierce returned to the room. Walking over to Sarah’s bed, he pulled back the bed linens.

“My lord?”

Pierce ignored him as he gingerly picked up Sarah, cradling her in his arms. His stomach twisted when she gave out a weak moan.

“My lord? What are you doing?”

Pierce strode out the door and down the hall with the doctor on his heels.

Kicking his bedroom door wide open, Pierce walked over to his bed and placed her on its downy softness. Without taking his eyes off Sarah’s pale face, he professed, “This is where she belongs.”

Definitely not his ward, thought the doctor.

~*~

One week later…

“Please! I am perfectly fine!” begged Sarah.

Pierce looked back, unconvinced, still unnerved from almost losing her. The doctor says she was lucky. She had consumed less than a grain of arsenic by his reckoning. Higher doses then that are prescribed to people for anything from cholera to bad skin. Still it had laid her low for several days. Fortunately, her friend, Victoria he believed, was unscathed having not sipped her tea.

Both Pierce and Parker had done a thorough vetting of the staff, all of whom had been with him for years. No one had seen anything out of the ordinary. He was chasing down a report of a peddler boy who entered the kitchen trying to sell rags and bits around the time the tea tray was being prepared but they, as of yet, could not find him. In the meantime, he had called for several footmen who resided on his country estate and whom he knew they could trust to come to London to help guard the house and Sarah.

Someone had tried to kill his Sarah and that someone had to pay.

Pierce also made a point of informing the magistrate and Detective Constable Chuzzlewit about the new development. In his mind, it proved she was innocent. Someone was targeting Mrs. Needham’s girls and he wanted to know why.

Sarah interrupted his dark musings. “I will just be in the parlor. Please! I will go stark raving mad if I am confined to this bedroom one more day!”

Still, Pierce resisted.

“She is my closest friend here. I am certain she means me no harm. It will be safe!”

“Fine but only for a quarter of an hour. The doctor left strict orders you are to rest for at least another week.”

“Really, because I recall him saying I was completely recovered and could return to my usual daily schedule a few days ago,” responded Sarah cheekily.

Pierce smiled. “You little minx. We thought you had fallen asleep!”

“Good thing I hadn’t or you would have me believe the doctor ordered bed rest for another fortnight!”

Pierce’s smiled wavered. “I’m just concerned.”

Sarah crossed the room to sit on his lap. “I don’t mean to jest. It is just my way of coping. If I think too long on it and the whole frightful mess I will burst into tears.”

That was not entirely true. Sarah had thought a great deal about Florence’s murder, her own brush with death and the murder charge handing over her head. She tried to put on a brave face for Pierce because she could see the tension and worry on his face. He had even refused to make love to her these last few days, insisting on only holding her. No matter how she tried to assure him, he was still concerned his amorous attentions would be too much for her. The only way to return her life to a semblance of normality was to figure out who was trying to kill her and who had killed Florence. She hoped Elma had some insight having lived in Mrs. Needham’s employ longer than she.

Pierce stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “You know I will protect you.”

“I do,” whispered Sarah. She gave him a shy kiss on the cheek before leaving the room to greet Elma who was waiting for her in the parlor.

~*~

When Sarah walked through the door, she was greeted by an anxious Elma.

“I’m so sorry!” she cried as she hugged Sarah close.

Sarah petted her wiry red curls. “It is not your fault, dear! Besides, I’m fine.”

“You don’t understand. It is my fault!”

Sarah stared at Elma with alarm. Taking a step back as she pulled Elma’s hands from her waist, she asked, “What are you saying, Elma?”

Throwing her hand over her mouth, Elma shook her head erratically. “Oh god! No! No, Sarah! I didn’t mean
that
! I mean I could have stopped it but I was a coward and I am so sorry!” Elma started to cry again.