Taming Maria, page 21
Flares were stuck in the sand, illuminating the turmoil. The clash of swords and pistol shots punctuated the cries of angry men. Then she saw Charles, face to face with Damien, the light dancing on their naked blades. Damien registered surprise on seeing Charles, followed by grim determination.
'You, Bradbury! I might have guessed you were up to something!' he shouted, and leapt forward.
'And you, milord, are a traitor! Meet me now, sword to sword, and I'll cut you down and send your black soul to hell!'
There was the ring of steel as the swords met. The duellists were old foes who knew each other's strengths and weaknesses. Maria's attention was riveted on them, though conscious of the skirmishes taking place all around her. The smugglers were fighting desperately, outnumbering Charles's men and giving them a hard time. The coastguards had not yet arrived. Some of the French, who had leapt from the boat into the water, had their swords out and were joining in the fray. One keeled over, clutching his chest, falling into the shallows where men splashed and fought and swore, blood turning the wavelets red. Powder flashed and the sound of shooting reverberated among the cliffs.
Damien and Charles circled each other, antagonists with an axe to grind. Maria knew this favoured neither. It was better to keep a cool head.
Crouching slightly Damien advanced in little leaps, while Charles avoided his blade and mocked him, 'Are you fighting, sir, or dancing a gavotte?'
Damien cursed and attacked with renewed vigour. The blades rang and Maria was terrified for both of them. This was real. No fencing bout, but a fight to the death. She edged closer, forgetting her own danger, seeing her lovers stamping backwards and forwards on the wet sand, admiring Charles's coolness and Damien's expertise.
He thrust high and Charles parried, the light running down the swords like blood. They were close now, glaring at each other, eye to eye. Damien broke free and leapt back. Charles followed, his blade whirling. Damien caught the point that was aimed straight at his heart. He knocked it up, but not before it had scratched his cheek.
This first hit enraged him and he started to lose control. He lunged at Charles, who pivoted slightly to one side, avoiding the strike. Damien recovered and beat down Charles's blade, attacking like a madman. Maria cried out and he backed towards her, grabbed her arm and retreated to the cave mouth with Charles after him. It was as if the fray on the beach was of no matter. All that remained was the fight between two men over one woman. A story as old as time.
Damien kept his sword pressed to Maria's ribs as they entered the cave. 'If you don't let me go I'll kill her,' he ground out mercilessly. 'Call off your men.'
'I can't do that. Surrender and I'll put in a good word for you.' Charles kept cool.
'How magnanimous!' Damien sneered. 'And what proof do you have that I'm involved in this?'
'Plenty. I've been working on it for months.'
'Are you willing to sacrifice Maria's life?'
Damien's hold on her was strong, and pushed her against the damp, rocky walls. Was this to be her tomb? Her last vision of life on earth? The tip of his sword nicked her skin just beneath her left breast; one thrust and it would penetrate her heart. Her cloak was open and she was naked beneath it, stripped by him a short while ago. She could see the spot on the ground where he had tied her and flogged her and permitted his hellions to abuse her. She ached in every limb from his treatment, and hurt inside because he cared so little for her.
Charles lowered his weapon. 'I'm willing to negotiate, but you'll have to be quick about it. From the sounds on the beach I would say that reinforcements have arrived. You don't stand a chance.'
Damien wiped the blood from his face on his jacket sleeve. He would carry the scar for life, his handsome features marred. He did not release his hold on Maria. 'I have a horse outside the chapel. Oh, don't worry, I've covered every contingency. I shall disappear and you'll not see me again.'
Charles paused. 'Does this mean you'll leave England?'
'Yes, until the war is over.'
'And what about me? Who will be in charge of my affairs?' Even at that fraught moment Maria kept her wits about her.
'Everything is taken care of.' Damien gave her a fleeting smile, and then turned to Charles again. 'Well? Do we have a bargain?'
Charles nodded. 'Do you give me your word as a gentleman that you have no more tricks up your sleeve and will disappear?'
'I agree.' Damien held out his hand and Charles took it. They shook solemnly, but Maria was not convinced of Damien's sincerity.
He looked at her, then reached out and touched one of her naked breasts and, even in that moment of peril, her body responded. 'Don't fret. We shall meet again, my dear little slave,' he murmured. 'Think of me when you're in your lonely bed, or even if you're sharing it with an inadequate lover. Think of me and remember that I was and always will be, your master.'
He let her go and she ran to Charles's side, his arm coming round her. Damien gave an ironic bow and vanished up the steps into the crypt. Maria hugged Charles, unable to believe they were both alive.
Quint clattered into the cave, shouting, 'My lord, it's over. The coastguards have arrested all concerned. Except the ringleader who seems to have run off.'
'Don't worry. I'll come and sort it out.' Charles smiled at Maria and said, 'You're a disobedient hussy, aren't you? Didn't I tell you to stay out of trouble? Now what am I going to do with you?'
'We'll take care of her?' Robin spoke from the steps. He was backed by Tranter.
'And how many more people have you involved in this?' Charles said angrily, giving her a shake.
'None, but they have come in time and will take me back to the manor.'
'Stay there till I come. Make sure she does, will you, Robin? I've never known such a wayward chit!'
Although Charles was scolding her she could see he was relieved. He questioned Robin further, saying, 'Did you see a man leaving the crypt?'
'No, we were only concerned in finding her ladyship,' Robin replied, eyes wide as he listened to the clamour outside.
'Good man,' Charles said, and pushed Maria forward. 'I put her in your safe keeping. Maria, I shall call on you later, probably tomorrow morning. You'd better be there.'
He strode from the cave with Quint, and Maria gathered up her torn clothing and permitted Robin to help her climb up into the moonlight and find her horse. In the back of her mind was the disloyal thought that perhaps Damien might be lurking somewhere, ready to spirit her away. She hated herself for this. She loved Charles, didn't she?
Damien left his horse inside Scratch Tump, found a candle and tinderbox always kept to hand there, and then made his way down a long winding tunnel that led to the grounds of Raven Towers. He blessed his ancestors who, involved in religious strife and treachery towards the crown, had constructed it, and also the secret passages that riddled the old house.
He was furiously angry with Charles. He had lost money on this enterprise, having already laid out on expenses and been expecting a fat purse to arrive with one of the spies. Not only Charles roused his ire, but Maria too. He could have sworn he had succeeded in making her his own, an enslaved creature who would obey his every wish. He had several reasons for returning to the house; one was to collect money for his journey; another to leave letters for Arabella and his bank. These would be left in the care of his loyal manservant, Johnson. But the other, most pressing reason, was to remind Maria that she could never escape him.
He smiled grimly as he heaved at the bramble-covered grill set over the tunnel's entrance. It gave access to a disused folly at the far side of the garden. From there it would be easy to enter one of the hidden routes that would connect him to Maria's bedchamber.
Sarah had subjected Maria to a thorough scolding when Emily brought her in from the stable yard. 'Where have you been, my lady?' she ranted, though her voice was shaking.
'Riding,' Maria had answered shortly.
'At this hour? And what happened to your clothes?'
'She took them off to have a dip in the pool. Left them on the bank where an animal ripped them before she could stop it,' Emily lied convincingly, and Maria was glad of the quick-witted maid's support.
Sarah threw her hands in the air despairingly. 'I don't know what this world is coming to! Lady Arabella didn't seem all that bothered when I reported you missing. She said it was probably only a girlish prank. Well, into bed with you, before you catch your death of cold. I'll bring you some hot milk.'
Emily and Maria exchanged a relieved glance and before long she was installed in the four-poster, wearing a clean nightgown and tucked under the covers. She drank the milk, then begged Sarah to leave a candle burning on the side-table, the evening's events having frightened her more than she imagined. Courageous while they were happening, they now came back to haunt her in all their brutal vividness, and she trembled.
Trying to fix her thoughts on Charles and the rosy future she might share with him, she eventually drifted into a troubled sleep to be awakened abruptly by a hand clamping over her mouth. She struggled, unable to move, pinned down by a solid body. The room was dark. The candle had gone out.
'Be quiet,' hissed an imperious voice in her ear. She obeyed, recognising the tone. 'That's better,' said Damien. 'I'll take my hand away, if you promise not to scream.'
She nodded and the hand was removed, but not the body that was pinning her to the mattress. It was Damien all right, smelling of the night and damp air. His lips captured hers, stifling any protest and, despite everything, her mouth parted and her tongue met his and desire flared within her. But even so, he had some answers to give.
She twisted away from him. 'Why did you let your brutes make free with me?' she demanded, keeping her voice low. 'You objected to Charles touching me, yet would have stood by and watched me being raped.'
'You ask too many questions,' he said into the darkness. 'It was my choice to have my men enjoy you. Bradbury was another matter entirely. You were doing it of your own free will, forgetting that you belong to me.'
'I belong to no man!' Her indignation forced her to try to break free from him, but his arms tightened.
'That is not so. You may think you are free of me, and may have it in your mind to even marry Bradbury, but in your heart and in your cunt you will know that I am your master forever.'
'No! No!' she insisted, but weakening under his onslaught. 'You would have run me through with your sword, if Charles hadn't agreed to your bargain.'
'Yes, I would. You know I'm ruthless.'
He rose, pulled her to the edge of the mattress, rolled her onto her face, lifted her nightgown and brought the flat of his hand down on her sore buttocks. 'Don't cry out,' he ordered.
Maria buried her face in the sheet, muffling her sobs. He slapped her where she had already felt the scourge, his whip marking her earlier. He struck her again, and her flesh recognised her master's hand, though her mind denied it. No one owned her! No man should have domination over her! His blows flowed into one another, joining the dark stream of sensuality that lay inside her. He was right. Deny it though she might, he had tamed her, controlled her, and she would never be satisfied by a tender lover. Damien had taught her the mysteries of pain/pleasure and she would always hanker for it now.
She hated him for lifting the lid of this Pandora's Box, yet gloried in the riches he had shown her within it. Even now the pain was receding as his skilful fingers massaged her aching hinds. He pulled her close to him, turning her so he could caress her nipples and then replace his fingers with his lips, and cruise down her belly to her shaven mound. He parted her crack and found she was already dewy, spreading the fluid over her labia, folding back the lips and stroking her clitoris. His engorged cock pressed into her side, one thigh thrown over hers, holding her fast. She could not resist folding her fingers around it, feeling its heat and size as if to commit it to memory for all time.
He was an enigma; selfish, disloyal, concerned only with his own welfare, yet he intrigued her. Bad he undoubtedly was, but this in itself added to his fascination. And as his skilful fingers caressed her nubbin, circling it, rubbing it, holding off and tormenting it, then returning, so she forgot all his evil traits. She spread herself out in supplication, begging him to satisfy her, and he played her like a lute, bringing forth the sweetest music. Maria rose higher and higher, until her orgasm exploded in a firework display of awesome release. She buried her face in his chest, stifling her yelps of pleasure.
She felt his prick enter and fill her, battering and thrusting and the force of it was just what she needed, giving her something for her muscles to contract around. Damien was on his knees between her thighs, silhouetted against the window, a black, unearthly shape that could have been a demon, not a man. He hurt her, his fingers like claws, and his penis hammered into her repeatedly, gaining momentum until he discharged, filling her with his spunk.
He had barely finished when he withdrew completely. She grabbed at him, wanting tenderness and reassurance. He gave neither. 'I'm leaving now. You may never see me again. On the other hand, I shall probably survive. As they say, "the devil looks after his own".'
'Where are you going?' She sat up, staunching their combined fluids with the edge of her nightgown. Time stretched bleakly ahead with no Damien to tease, torment, and hurt her.
'Abroad.' He was gathering up his cloak, preparing to leave. 'I shall send for Johnson. No gentleman worth his salt can manage without his trusted valet.'
'You'll never return?' She wanted to light the candle and see his face.
'Not until this war is over. Don't worry, I've left your affairs in order. You can take over Burrington Manor now, if you wish. Your aunt and the bank will advise you. Marry whoever you wish, even that coxcomb Bradley, but one day you'll get a message and you'll drop everything and come to me.'
'Ha! You're very sure of yourself, my lord!' He still had the power to infuriate her.
He leaned over her and she felt his lips on her brow. 'Of course. You're my slave-slut and always will be.'
With that he vanished and she heard the gentle click of a secret door shutting, a door she did not know existed. Tears filled her eyes and her heat bled within her. Even though she knew Damien was rotten through and through, she would never tell anyone, especially Charles, that he had visited her in the dead of night.
Epilogue
Maria took over Burrington Manor and settled down there. With her help, Robin and Jane were forgiven by her parents for their flight to Gretna Green and he became the new vicar of Burrington. There was no word from Damien.
On the morning after the coastguards had arrested the French spies and those who were helping them, no one associated the disappearance of the viscount with these exciting events. It was his habit to come and go at short notice, and his agent had been primed to look after Raven Towers. Coutts Bank, in London, had instructions to manage his business affairs and Arabella already knew what to do about Maria's manor and property if he vanished for a long spell.
'Hey-ho, my dear. Don't worry your pretty head about anything,' Arabella had said, getting ready to return to the capital and all the delights of the Winter Season. 'I shall consult with the lawyers and the bank and they will follow his instructions.'
They did, and Maria returned to her home that had been cared for by a housekeeper and steward, opened it up and had a splendid Christmas gathering where everyone was invited. Charles enthused about the estate.
'It's an artist's paradise. Think of the landscapes I can paint, to say nothing of a formal portrait of yourself; mistress of all you survey. You can hang it in the Long Gallery, among those of your forebears.' She refused to give him the answer he craved, relishing her newfound freedom, but he was persistent.
'Will you marry me?' he asked again, as they lay in her bed in the master chamber. It was Boxing Day and she was to spend it taking presents and food round to all the villagers, as was the custom.
She had been expecting this and now pondered on it once again. For weeks she had heard nothing from Damien, who seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth. Testing Charles, she had shown him that she liked him to be masterful in the bedroom. Nothing averse, he had become adept at putting her over his knee and spanking her or even taking a whip to her. She had soon discovered that this gave him a substantial erection.
'Do you want to beat an acceptance out of me?' she invited, pushing aside the coverlet and stretching voluptuously.
'You tantalising little witch,' he snarled, half amused, half irritated and, snatching her up, he spread her across his lap and slapped her bottom, not as hard as Damien would have done, but enough to satisfy her need to be aroused in such a manner.
After this he treated her roughly, pushing her down on the mattress and taking his pleasure of her. Responding fervently, her bottom stinging, she reached an almighty climax.
She rested in his arms, stroking his hair and purring like a contented cat, but all the time remembering the letter Damien had left for her in Johnson's care, and which he had delivered the morning after his master had fled. It had read, Come to me in the Indies. You know you want to. No other can give you the pleasure that I can. You need controlling, and I'm the man to do it. Travel with Johnson, who will be leaving soon.
There had been more in this vein, and she thought about it a great deal, but had now made up her mind. She would accept Charles's proposal and, if in the future Damien returned, she might permit him to be her lover. Whatever happened, he had taught her well and far from being his slave, she had grown into an independent woman who knew what she wanted. She was grateful for this, and could be his submissive or control him. Had he tamed her? Partly, she supposed, though it was impossible to entirely subdue someone as self-willed as herself.
Also by Rhea Silva
The Darkest Master, available to download now...
