Sir Thomas’s Bride_Masterful Husbands_Book One, page 15
By mid-afternoon, Margaret was becoming tetchy. She began to snap at Thomas and he recognised the return of the wasp in his wife. Naughtily and selfishly Thomas needled her, pushing her to overstep the mark so that he might spank her. Thomas loved to spank and Margaret gave him ample opportunity to punish her but he had not yet spanked her purely for his own pleasure. He decided that on this occasion he would teach his wife a little about erotic spanking.
And so it was that poor Margaret was voicing her opinion of poorly sprung carriages one second and face down over her husband's knee the next.
Her cries of "Thomas, no, this is so unseemly," were utterly ignored, as her bottom was bared and lightly smacked all over her bare mounds. Thomas almost patted her bottom, increasing the spanks to harder slaps only after her fleshy orbs had turned a blushing pink. Thomas slipped his hand down her thighs and into her slippery divide. Margaret gave a shuddering sigh. Thomas grinned wryly, why his little Bee liked this as much as he! Her sighing gave way to moans of pleasure as Thomas alternated spanking with frigging, until Margaret cried out with the ultimate pleasure. Thomas merely chuckled, enjoying himself hugely.
"Let us go for three maiden overs," he quipped, using the cricket term in a most lewd manner. All the while he enjoyed the sight of Margaret's bare bottom as it rippled and quivered under his lightly punishing hand.
Above them the coach drivers once again felt constraint around their breeches, the staccato spanks and sighs were clearly audible to both of them. They shifted uncomfortably on their hard wooden seats, again studiously avoiding one another's eye.
Margaret couldn't understand why she was so aroused by this treatment; every time Thomas caressed her between her legs she sparked like green wood in a fire. The delicious feel of his thudding hand as it rained warmth over her bottom flesh had her gasping for more. When he gave her more, his delving fingers played her like a musical instrument, bringing her to crescendo time after time, until she lay exhausted and uncaring if a villager should peek inside and see her placed naked, arse up over her husband's hard thigh.
"Out for six!" Thomas crowed delightedly, using yet another double entendre cricketing term as he felt Margaret spend for the sixth time in a row. He pulled her upright and gave her a smacking kiss upon her lips before he tucked her under his arm, took her hand wrapped it around his throbbing, aching cock. Margaret pumped obediently as he expected, wanting nothing more in her befuddled state, than to fall asleep right now. Luckily Thomas was so aroused that it was only seconds before his exuberant release. After cleaning up Margaret's hand with his silk handkerchief, he tucked her up upon the seat beside him, her head resting upon his thigh, whereupon she fell asleep at once. Thomas hummed contentedly, as he ran his hands through the silken lengths of her hair.
They arrived in London just as the light was leaving the sky, skimming the horizon with pink and pale blue streaks. It was about ten o clock at night when Thomas carried Margaret inside the house. Gates informed him that the bed had been warmed ready for them with warming pans and hot water in the ewers had also been provided for washing. Gratefully they made their way up stairs and after only brief ablutions, clambered exhausted into bed, where they slept deeply, entwined in one another's arms.
Chapter 26
Thomas nodded to the footmen standing either side of the open doors leading down the shallow steps and into the palace gardens where their Majesties were outside, watching the little princes and princesses play together under the watchful eye of their nanny and the nursery maid. King George waved his wrist at Thomas indicating he should draw near. Thomas made an elegant leg and walked over to his King, where he executed another bow to acknowledge the Queen as well. She held out her hand and Thomas took her fingers in his and air kissed them. The Queen smiled at him vaguely and wandered over to where two of her small sons were squabbling over a hobby horse.
Thomas waited patiently for his liege to speak.
"Thomas, we have had the most disquieting correspondence from Lady Amelia," he said finally.
"Really, sire?"
"Yes, it seems that she is under the impression that you regularly beat your wife."
"B-beat my wife, sire?"
"She informs us that this startling information has been brought to her attention by your lady wife's former ladies' maid, Hockley. What have you say to that, Thomas, hmm?" The King winked.
Thomas looked thoughtfully at his King. George knew full well that Thomas, by his own admission did spank Margaret. It had been discussed during their conversation at Thomas's house in the spring. However, Thomas also knew the King hated any sort of risqué scandal. Should this impact their Majesties, George would throw Thomas to the wolves of the gossiping ton in a heartbeat. He would stop the scent of any scandal clinging to him. The haute ton were a two faced bunch and it was common place amongst titled gentleman, to spank their women, not always their wives of course! However, no one mentioned this openly, it was the worst kept secret in London.
"I suspect, sire, that this evil lady has an inkling that I am about to uncover her vile secrets and is attempting a counter strategy. Lady Beauchamp is a cruel and greedy woman who terrorised her daughter before I came along and rescued the girl from her vicious clutches."
"Thomas, Thomas, we understand, you may count upon your King as your friend. We shall support you in any way that we can, dear fellow. Unless, of course, this plan of yours backfires and then, dear boy, you are very much on your own."
"Yes, sire, I do assure you that I understand the delicacy of involving your person in scandal and will not do so at any cost. Might I prevail upon your good nature, however, and ask for a letter of intervention allowing me unfettered access into the Bedlam asylum?"
The King looked astonished. "Of course I shall arrange a letter just as you request but you surely can bribe the gaoler to gain access, as we understand that everyone does, they all go to gawp at the poor unfortunates."
"I suspect that Lady Beauchamp will have paid her husband's gaoler to keep curious folk fully at bay, sire."
"Well then, we agree that a royal decree is essential to aid your endeavours. Keep me informed by note of your progress and I will pray that you are successful, Sir Wiggington."
Thomas bowed, moving backwards a few steps, he bowed once again, before he turned and walked briskly back into the palace and through the vaulted halls, back outside, to where his own coach awaited him. He felt confident that the interview with King George had gone well. Next he travelled onto the offices of his man of business, to hear what the canny fellow had discovered at the Bedlam asylum.
"And so to conclude, Sir Thomas, I am more than certain that the elderly gentleman residing in Bedlam under the name of Jacob Oats is, in fact, as he himself claims, Lord Beauchamp."
Thomas said gruffly, "God forbid it is he, the poor bloody fellow."
"I quite agree, sir, not a place that I should like to spend twenty years of my life. What do you propose to do now, sir?"
Thomas drew in a deep breath and let it out again slowly, while he thought about the best way to handle things. "I think I need to talk to the committal doctor and gather some actual paper evidence. In the meantime, please keep the knowledge you have under your hat and not a word to anyone about this."
"You may rely on my discretion at all times, Sir Thomas."
"Thank you, I am much obliged to you for your help in this matter. I may well need your help again in accompanying me into the foul place. I shall be in touch, I bid you good day."
Thomas entered the street and stood stock still, trying to accustom himself to the evil that his wife's mother may have been party to. Life upon the busy London street flowed around him while he was stopped as if in a stupor. Thomas was completely unaware of his surroundings. Carriages bowled along, while vendors selling wares cried out for passing trade, each competing loudly for their fare.
"Buy my sweet ro-ses!"
"Pies, hot pies for ha'penny!"
"Ribbons for sale, ribbons for yer sweetheart!"
"Any old iron! Any old iron!"
"Pamphlets—get the latest news—farthing a Pamphlet!"
Two boys bowling hoops ran past and a dog ran by with a chain of sausages trailing from its thieving mouth. Thomas saw none of this, he heard none of this, he was in a trance thinking of Margaret, his Bee, and how she would react to this devastating news.
"Sir, can I be of assistance, sir... sir... sir?" His worried driver called to him anxiously.
Thomas finally glanced up at his coachman. "Hmm? Oh yes, return me home, Jackson, please." He climbed inside the carriage and settled into his seat deep in thought.
If Doctor Alan Sherringham was surprised to see Sir Thomas Wiggington upon his doorstep at just past dawn the following day, he made no sign of it. He pulled the door wider and suggested coffee inside.
"So you have it, Sir Thomas, my father's written statement. Do you suppose it will stand up in a court of law?"
"I don't think it will come to that for I have the ear of the King on this matter and it will be handled with the utmost discretion."
"I want to come with you, sir. My father would wish me to help the poor devil and you might have need of a physician."
"Very well, I am returning to London now. I wish to arrive home by nightfall but you will, of course, stay with me at my London house, Sherringham?" "Thank you, sir."
Thomas held the small silver filigree vinaigrette close to his nose and inhaled, for the stench inside the building was simply appalling. They followed a giant of a man through corridors of poor wretches dressed in nothing but rags. It was hard to tell between the men and the women because their hair was so long and matted, while their faces and limbs were streaked with dirt. The moans and cries of distress were heart rending and Thomas was glad that he had told Margaret nothing of his plans. She would surely have insisted on accompanying him and he would have no wife of his see a place such as this.
Finally, they came to a locked room. The jailer unlocked the door and stood back to let them enter. Inside the small room smelled no better. It took a moment for Thomas's eyes to adjust to the light and when they did, he saw an old man with long white dirty hair seated on a wooden truckle bed.
"Sir? Can you tell us your name, sir?"
The old man lifted his head and Thomas started, for the eyes that met his, were pale blue and closely resembled Margaret's eyes. He moved to kneel before the man and very gently placed his warm hand over this elderly person's frail and bony one.
"Do you have a daughter named Margaret?" he asked.
"I-I did but I am not supposed to speak of the past, young man, you should go. They will come and dowse me with cold water and I will die of the cold. I am no longer strong enough to fight you see; I am old, too old."
"Tell me your tale, old man, and I promise that no harm shall come to you because of it. I am a friend and can help your plight but you must first tell me your story."
At first Thomas and Doctor Sherringham thought he wouldn't reply. The old man was silent for so long they thought their journey wasted but just as they both thought he would never speak, he began haltingly to tell his tale.
"I am or was Lord Alfred Beauchamp and I resided in a lovely family home, a house that my great grandfather had built for his wife, my great grandmother. I lived there with my wife, a nasty, greedy woman. If only I had an inkling of how bad she really was, I would have left her well alone, her pretty face and fortune seduced me I am ashamed to say. Beware gentleman, the folly of youth!"
"Yes?" Thomas prompted, when the man seemed to drift off into a world of his own.
"After a while we had a daughter born to us, Margaret we named her, after my mother, a sweet child that I adored. I was happy for a while and then something occurred that changed everything. A local boy had fallen into the flooded race of the local mill and I ran to help, Amelia followed me, instead of staying and organising men to follow on to help, as I requested her to do.
"When we arrived, since I was the only one able to swim, I jumped into the water immediately to save the boy and after diving I was able to catch his body in my arms and pull him to safety. You have to understand at this point that Jacob Oats was hated by his wife for he was a drunkard of a man and violent toward her but he loved his son and helped to save the lad by taking him up from my arms and laying him on the ground where his wife covered the boy with a woollen cover.
"Next thing I know, his wife hits him full in the face with an oar knocking him out cold and rendering his face a bloodied mess. Jacob drops into the water to drown. I am half in and half out of the waters by now and both women grab hold of me and scream for help. To my surprise, one of the wicked besoms struck me on the head and when I am come conscious again it was to discover myself dressed in the miller's clothing. Then when the local sawbones arrived, my wife told him that I am Jacob Oats and that I killed her husband, Lord Alfred Beauchamp.
"The most dreadful shock of all came when Mrs. Oats claimed that I was, in fact, her husband Jacob and she too witnessed me hit his lordship with an oar. I loudly proclaimed that I was Alfred Beauchamp but I was taken away without anyone listening to my honest plea. Then because of those evil witches' tales, I have been incarcerated in hell here at Bedlam these past nineteen years, while my wife lives in my house spending my money while I am left here to rot."
"But why should she do that to her own husband? I cannot understand the why." Doctor Sherringham spread his hands apart in helpless distress at hearing the awful tale.
"Amelia was always a frigid and bossy bitch. She wanted her pleasant rich life, one that did not include her husband or indeed any other man within it."
"Evil, pure evil," Thomas whispered sotto voce. The doctor heard him and nodded his wholehearted agreement.
"Lord Beauchamp, I can tell you now that we have uncovered a document that means you are free to leave here this very day, by order of King George himself."
"A document? What document is that, sir?"
Alan Sherringham bowed his head before he spoke. "Well, sir, I am sorry to say that it was my father who was the doctor that attended on that fateful day. It worried him for many a year, my Lord. Despite the witnesses that stood against you, he felt uneasy in his bones about your guilt. He went to the Justice of the Peace with medical evidence that I am sorry to say, the Justice ignored because he believed your lady wife. My father told me that he had treated the miller Jacob Oats for a knife wound to his side but a year or so before and there was no scar upon your left side, where one should have been if you were indeed Mr. Oats. It troubled him so much, that he wrote an account of that day with his suspicions of duplicity upon the ladies. It is that evidence that has been brought to the attention of the King and subsequently freed you, milord."
The old lord shook his head bewildered. "But why now after all these years. Who has taken up my case, I don't understand..."
Thomas placed his hand on his father-in-law’s shoulder and squeezed gently. "I am your son-in-law, sir, I am married to Margaret."
The elderly man lifted his rheumy pale eyes to Thomas. "My son-in-law you say?" "Yes, sir."
"Margaret married and no longer a child. Ah, but I have missed so much and all because of that cold hearted bitch, just wait 'till I get my hands about her evil, scrawny neck!"
Thomas gave a hollow laugh. "Not so scrawny now but fear not, she will be brought before the King. She will not go unpunished. Come let us aid you to stand; we have a carriage that awaits you and a daughter who as of yet has no knowledge of your existence."
Chapter 27
Margaret heard a commotion in the entrance hall and ran to investigate the row. She halted and gasped at the sight of her husband, oddly accompanied by the doctor from Lewes, carrying in what appeared to be an old vagabond.
"Gates prepare a bath for our guest and bring broth to the drawing room immediately. Margaret, well met, my dear, please go and fetch a rug with which to cover this gentleman, for he is cold and shaken by events."
"Yes, Thomas, but who is this person?"
"I shall tell you that when he is warmed and comfortable, now run and do as I ask, there's a good girl!"
Margaret needed no further bidding and flew upstairs to find a rug.
Once Lord Beauchamp was settled before a fire, which despite the summer warmth, Thomas deemed necessary for the comfort of their elderly visitor. Thomas called Margaret over to his side.
"You must be brave, my dear, for what I am about to tell you will be a dreadful shock."
Margaret turned rounded eyes upon her husband; he sounded so very serious.
"What is it, Thomas?" she all but whispered.
"This man is your father, Lord Alfred Beauchamp and he has been incarcerated within Bedlam, by the deception of your mother for these past nineteen years."
Margaret swayed and Thomas slipped his arm about her helping her down onto the settee beside her own father. Estranged father and daughter stared incredulously at one another.
"My father?" she finally muttered to herself.
"Margaret?" her father stretched out his bony, shaking hand and touched a curl of her hair. His countenance crumpled and fat tears of joy sprung from his eyes and ran down his sunken cheeks. Margaret sprung to her feet and fled the room and as she ran, Thomas distinctly heard a gasping sob escape her. He excused himself and pursued his distrait wife. He found her face down in the middle of their bed sobbing her heart out. Thomas removed his jacket and sat down on the bed in his shirt and waistcoat. He hauled his sobbing wife into his arms where she lay against him unprotestingly but obviously distraught.
"Now, now what is this all about? I find your father and return him to you from the dead and here you are in such a state."
"That dirty old man is not my father!" Margaret cried furious.
