The Theft of a Dukedom (18 page)

Charles’s thigh was trembling with the effort of
staying on his feet in the stirrups.
Maybe I should have
listened to Kitty!
He berated himself. He had the distinct
feeling that Kitty knew something he didn’t and the
conviction that she was already on her way south, as
her reckless nature would dictate. He hoped Richard
would be able to stop her, but he feared that Kitty
would just find another way, even taking another coach
and travelling separately.

He hadn’t really taken a lot of notice of his
environment, except that the landscape was fairly flat
as he was galloping through the fens of Cambridgeshire.
He could see a cloud of smog ahead from the little
village he would pass through next.

Charles could feel his mount beginning to flag.
‘Just a few more steps.’ He urged her on. He knew he
was only half an hour behind his brother. Having
travelled this road for twenty years man and boy, the
coaching houses knew them both and the landlords
greeted them by name. Each Innkeeper had been
shocked to see Charles on a horse and had asked if he
wanted to hire a carriage, but he’d declined, just asking
for their fastest horse.

He galloped into the yard of the Coach House at
Sawtry in a flurry of sparks as her hooves clattered on
the cobbles. The horse stood blowing as Charles
carefully slid off her back.

‘Lord Charles!’ he was greeted enthusiastically
by the Innkeeper. ‘How nice to see you today!’
‘Mr. Higgins.’ Charles responded as he limped
away from the tired mare. ‘Your fastest horse. I’m in a
hurry!’
The keeper shouted orders with alacrity. ‘A pot
of ale for his Lordship!’ he shouted at a small boy, who
turned and ran into the Coach House. ‘Boy! Get his
Lordship’s saddle off that bay mare and bring out
Hercules!’
Charles rested his buttocks against a low wall
and crossed his arms. ‘He’s going to be ridden hard. I
hope Mrs. Green at Buckden won’t be cross.’
‘I take it you are trying to overtake your
brother?’ Mr. Higgins enquired carefully.
‘I am.’ Charles stated without adding anymore.
‘He told me that he’s the new Duke. I’m sorry for
the loss of your father.’ Higgins continued. ‘Was it a long
illness?’
‘My father wasn’t ill, he was murdered.’ Charles
said flatly. ‘And that bastard of a brother did it!’
‘Then be of cheer, he said he was stopping for
food and a rest at Mrs. Green’s.’ Higgins said softly.
‘And knowing my brother as well as I do, that
means that Alicia Green will be on her back by the time I
get there.’ Charles smiled for the first time that day. It
was a lascivious curve of his lips that Mr. Higgins felt
made him look like a young devil, but it didn’t reach his
cold eyes. Charles had never availed himself of Mrs.
Green’s services, preferring not to catch the pox from
some wayward traveller.
The pot boy offered up a tankard of ale and
Charles thanked him, before gulping the contents down
his throat.
A large black stallion was led out of a stable
block. It was jerking on the lead and as the lad tried to
control it, the stallion reared up on his back feet,
dragging the poor boy off the ground.
‘Spirited.’ Charles muttered as the hooves
crashed back onto the cobbles. ‘But is he quick?’
‘He could run at Ascot, My Lord.’ Mr. Higgins
confirmed as the stallion stamped his feet and snorted
out his contempt for the humans around him.
‘Then get my saddle on him and I’ll be away.’
Charles said and finished the last dregs of ale in the
tankard. He handed the blackened pewter mug back to
the pot boy and limped over to the horse. He gently
stroked his palm over the horse’s muzzle, allowing the
stallion to sample his smell. ‘Good boy,’ Charles
murmured and blew in the horse’s nostrils, making him
snort again. ‘Will you fly for me?’ he asked. The stallion
looked Charles in the eye, nodded his head and snorted
again.
‘My Lord? He’s ready.’ The young stable boy said
and Charles sorted the reins out before he heaved his
aching body into the saddle. He could feel the strength
and restlessness of the stallion even as his buttocks
connected with the saddle. He gathered the reins in his
hands, smiled down at the boy and said ‘Thank you, Mr.
Higgins. You might find my sister along later in a coach.’
Charles kicked the horse’s flanks and the stallion burst
forward in a surge of speed and power.
‘How’s your stamina, boy?’ he murmured in the
horse’s ear as he laid his face alongside his neck and
urged him to a break-neck pace. The blood roared in his
veins in exhilaration as he felt the raw power of the
horse after he’d turned onto the main road and let
Hercules have his head. ‘Fly, my boy! Fly!’ Charles urged
as his hat was blown off his head to bounce on his
shoulders by the strap.
Almost as good as sex!
He exulted as he felt the
wind in his hair.
But not quite.
His thoughts turned to
Louise in the study.
Why wasn’t she afraid?
He asked
himself.
I would have expected her to be at least
nervous, but she wasn’t.
A part of him wondered
whether she was a virgin and then he shook his head
and chastised his own idiocy.
You broke her
maidenhead, you idiot! Of course she was a virgin.
He
tried to put thoughts of her naked body, carnally
available for his pleasure aside and concentrate on his
murderous brother.
The thunder of his hooves made travellers look
up in astonishment as he flew past them, leaving raised
fists and squealing women in his wake. Hercules
seemed to eat the road and in no time at all he could
see the smoke from the chimneys of Buckden.
On the outskirts of the village he slowed
Hercules down to a canter and the stallion tossed his
head. Charles could tell the horse had enormous
stamina and could probably do the next ten miles
without flagging, but he wouldn’t want to break this
horse’s spirit. He turned sedately into the coach house
yard and slid gracefully from the saddle.
A stable boy ran forward to grasp the reins and
soothe the stallion. ‘Hello Hercules, did you enjoy your
run?’ he asked softly and Charles was amazed to see the
horse put his head down beside the young lad and rub
his face on his hip.
‘Where is Mrs. Green?’ Charles enquired
politely.
‘I don’t rightly know, Milord, shall I ask Betsy?’
the young lad replied earnestly.
‘Is Betsy inside?’ Charles asked and the boy
nodded. ‘Good, saddle a fresh horse for me and make
sure its quick. Like Hercules if you can.’ He said and
limped over to the coach house door.
As he got in the doorway a young girl appeared
drying her hands on her apron. She was quite pretty,
with cornflower blue eyes and flaxen hair. ‘Can I help
you, Milord?’ she asked in a lilting voice.
‘Where is Mrs. Green?’ Charles asked again
politely.
‘Mrs. Green is in her room, indisposed, Milord.’
She said firmly.
‘Is Robin Stafford keeping her company?’ he
demanded harshly and Betsy suddenly looked flustered
and evasive.
‘I...I don’t know, Milord.’ She stuttered.
‘Where is your mistress’s room?’ he demanded
and strode purposefully down the hall to the back of the
house. He stood at the bottom of the stairs.
‘I can’t tell you that, Sir!’ Betsy said in outrage.
She thought it funny that the fancy lord didn’t know.
‘Betsy.’ He said and looked down coldly at the
girl. ‘You either tell me which room is hers or I will kick
down every door in the building!’
Betsy looked at the frigid expression in this tall
aristocrats face and decided she didn’t need this job;
she could just as easily be a field hand at the local farm,
where Lords and Ladies didn’t treat her like a chattel.
‘Top of the second flight, right in front of you.’ she said
and span on her heel in indignation.
Charles tried to hide the smirk of respect he felt
for the small girl, she had to have been intimidated by
his size, but she had still tried to stand her ground. He
took the stairs quietly until he was stood outside the
door.
Should I knock?
He asked himself.
Or kick it in!
He decided to kick it in and lifted his foot. The
door was fairly flimsy and as the heel of his boot
crashed into the wood just above the lock, the door
flew open and crashed against the wall making the
woman in the bed squeal loudly.

‘Jesus, Charles! You gave me a fright then!’ Alicia
Green shouted as she elevated her naked torso off the
mattress. The cotton top sheet was rumpled and
gathered at the end of the bed.

Charles stepped into the room, carefully pushed
the door closed and then walked slowly to the bed,
never taking his eyes off the woman so delectably
displayed.

Alicia Green was only twenty eight. She was
blond haired and blue eyed, with the face of a whore
and a body to die for. She had been widowed for five
years or more. It was well known she was barren and all
the gentry that passed through Buckden on the way
north sampled her goods. She and Robin fornicated
regularly, but Charles hadn’t seen her since his return
from Spain, as his journey north had been along a
different road.

‘Where is Robin Stafford?’ he asked in the
sibilant whisper that she had never heard before. She
lay back on the bed, lifted her arms above her head in a
thoroughly wanton fashion and lifted one eyebrow at
him.

‘Since when do you call your brother just Robin
Stafford? He’s the Duke now.’ She pushed her elbows
out to make her breasts stand proud and smiled
lasciviously, the desire burning in her eyes. He knew she
was insatiable and even though she had probably been
with Robin, she would still be able to accommodate him
if he so wished.

Charles knew a distraction when he saw one, but
that didn’t stop him from walking to the bed. ‘Is he?’ He
murmured, looked down on her body and gently
stroked a finger over one of her tight, puckered nipples.
‘You haven’t answered my question.’ He whispered as
his finger traced the outside edge of her aureole.

‘He was so good today.’ She whimpered as she
arched her back, trying to thrust her breast into his
hand.

‘Did you enjoy fucking a Duke?’
‘Yes, I did.’ She murmured and opened her legs
for him. ‘But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy fucking
a Lord.’
‘You wouldn’t be fucking a Lord.’ He said as he
moved his finger across to her other breast.
‘I wouldn’t?’ she asked coquettishly.
‘No, because this Lord is actually the Duke and if
I chose to join you on the bed, this Duke would fuck
you!’
‘That sounds lovely.’ She murmured as his hand
traced a line down the centre of her stomach. He circled
his fingers over her bald pudenda and she moaned,
lifting her pelvis in supplication. ‘Whenever you want to
join me, I’m ready.’
He stroked his fingers over her cleft as she
gasped and opened her legs wider. ‘Do you want this?’
he asked provocatively, as his stomach turned at the
sperm still on her thighs from his brother. He found it
quite unsettling as it wouldn’t be the first time he’d
followed another man, but to see his brother’s sperm
coating her thighs actually made him feel sick, while he
knew that if it was Richard, he would just wipe it away
and fuck her anyway!
‘Yes,’ she gasped and writhed to try and bring
some pressure against his fingers.
‘Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you have
it.’ He whispered and removed his hand. He looked
about the room and spied the washstand. He went over
and checked the jug to find it full of hot water. ‘Have
you decided yet?’ he asked as he turned to find her
pleasuring herself. He strode quickly across the room,
grabbed both of her hands and pinned them to the bed.
‘Not yet, my sweet.’ He said dangerously, ‘not until you
tell me about Robin.’
She writhed and gasped. ‘Please?’ she begged
and he lifted a questioning eyebrow. ‘Yes, he was here.’
She gabbled suddenly, her eyes betraying the
desperation of her body. ‘He wanted a quick fuck before
he gets home.’ She writhed more violently, ‘he was
moaning about the new duchess and how demanding
she is both in bed and out of it.’ She looked at him
imploringly. ‘Please? I’ve said he was here?’
‘What new Duchess?’ he asked and looked down
at the apex of her thighs deliberately.
‘He didn’t tell me her name only that she was
waiting in Mayfair for him.’ She gasped again. ‘Please?’
‘When did he leave?’
‘Not long before you arrived. Maybe fifteen
minutes.’ She gasped out as her back arched. ‘Oh! God!
Charles, please fuck me!?’ she begged again.
‘No.’ Charles spoke firmly. ‘No, I’m not going to
fuck you.’ He said coldly as he straightened up and
released her hands. ‘But you can do that for yourself
anyway!’ He turned to the washstand and splashed
some water in the bowl and soaped his hands. As he
dried them on a towel, he turned to look one last time
at the insatiable whore on the bed to find her inserting
a huge ivory penis inside her vagina as she tormented
her own clitoris.
He was tempted to stay and watch, but in the
end he shook his head and left. Downstairs a horse was
already stamping its feet as Charles threw himself up
into the saddle. He smiled at Betsy and said. ‘You were
right! You’re mistress is definitely indisposed.’ He kicked
his heels into the horse’s flanks and trotted out of the
yard.
When the coach pulled up at Buckden Kitty had
to use the retiring room and she ran across the yard.
Betsy appeared and Kitty said brusquely ‘Do you have a
retiring room?’
‘Yes, Milady. Second door on the right.’ And she
pointed down the corridor. After using the facilities,
Kitty went back out into the yard, to see Alicia Green
fawning all over Richard. She was dressed in an emerald
green silk dress that was so low cut Kitty could see her
nipples through the lace edging. She was quite annoyed
to see Richard’s gaze fastened on that very spot.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs. Green.’ She greeted the
host amicably as she donned her gloves and Richard
walked slowly back to the coach. ‘I would imagine my
brothers have already been serviced here today?’
‘They have indeed, Lady Amelia.’ Alicia Green
replied incautiously, keeping her lustful gaze on Richard.
‘Pray, who is the young man in your carriage?’
‘He’s my fiancée, Mrs. Green and if you want to
remain pretty, you’ll take your lascivious gaze off his
person.’ Kitty replied harshly. ‘He’s mine!’
‘I’m sorry, Lady Amelia, it’s just that a handsome
man always turns my head.’ Alicia murmured, still her
gaze rested on Richard and Kitty couldn’t stop the
jealousy rising in her blood at the heated light in Alicia
Green’s eyes.
‘Then you should be careful it doesn’t give you a
crick in the neck!’ Kitty said vitriolically and Alicia Green
snapped her attention back to Kitty with a frown. ‘What
time did Charles come through here?’