Chapter 5 #2
“Oh the honor is all mine, sir.” The lady’s lips pulled into a grin, her eyes flitting to her sisters, who stared stonily at Milton’s hand on Elizabeth’s skirt.
“But now tell us, do, how it is you met our Lizzie, for she is not one to attend society’s functions often.
One is more apt to find her tucked into a window somewhere, her nose squarely in a book. ” Her laugh was shrill.
Elizabeth’s teacup rattled her plate. “Indeed, Lady Stanton, you know me well.” She took a hot sip and turned to Milton. “I am more inclined to lose myself in the pages of good fiction, you see, rather than in the fiction that is good society.”
He squeezed her leg approvingly. “Lady Stanton, you must divulge more of my betrothed, for I know too little of Miss Winthrop’s predilections.”
“And how long have you known our Lizzie, Baron?” Lady Stanton’s brow arched.
“Why, all of four days now, isn’t it, dear?”
Elizabeth winced.
“Four days?” The lady’s brow inched higher. “What whirlwind romance is this?”
Her sisters, as one, leaned forward in their seats.
“Well, I…” Milton smiled disarmingly at his audience. “Shall I tell them, dearest? You won’t mind, will you?”
Alarm bells rang in Elizabeth’s head, though she flashed him a sincere enough smile. “Oh, I trust you’ll do our story justice, sir.”
Milton patted Elizabeth’s lap. “As I am sure you are aware, ladies”—the trio leaned further in to listen—“Miss Winthrop’s father is most keen on cards.
So keen, in fact, I met him but a few nights past at the tables of an upstanding gaming establishment.
And being, of course, an upstanding man myself, I let matters rest until the morrow, when I presented myself at his residence to collect my winnings.
Only imagine who should greet me there instead of his lordship… ”
Elizabeth’s gut twisted as he left the three ladies hanging.
“Why, Miss Winthrop herself. Then imagine, if you would, my surprise when the young lady quite stole my arm and led me to her father’s kitchen.
In no time at all I was called to defend her honor before some scoundrel of a butcher come round to collect his debt.
Indeed, Miss Winthrop was a veritable paragon of virtue when she thanked me for having come to her rescue, though I was astounded that a lady of her character should offer herself so wholly and unabashedly to one such as my—”
Lady Stanton’s jaw dropped as Elizabeth’s heart ceased beating.
“—self, and for such price as she negotiated on behalf of her darling papa.” He let out an appreciative whistle.
“Ladies, I was smitten. Nay, entranced. I did not hesitate to offer Lord Winthrop five thousand pounds for his beautiful, brave daughter, and was overjoyed to find my sum accepted with delight.”
Elizabeth nearly cast up the contents of her stomach.
“And since that day, I have spent each and every afternoon in the company of my betrothed, overjoyed Miss Winthrop is to be my wife. I could not have dreamed a better match.” He leaned back against the chaise as three shocked faces blinked back at him in horror.
Elizabeth violently pushed his hand from her lap, but that same hand pinned her forcefully to her seat.
With a choked gasp, Lady Stanton began to breathe again. “Elizabeth.” Her voice trembled. “Is it true, dear, that you—why, that you offered yourself to the Baron in lieu of-of payment for your father’s debts?” She barely whispered the last word.
Elizabeth drew up every shred of pride she had. “I did indeed, Lady Stanton, offer myself in place of my sister, whose hand, I should clarify, went for Milton’s five thousand whereas mine was worth a mere—”
“Elizabeth.” Milton shifted in his seat. “I gave your father five for you, not four.”
She refused to look at him. She could not.
“Baron of Milton is overly modest.” Her tongue felt like caked dirt.
“For while I cannot deny my actions that day, I admit my motives were less mercenary in nature. You see, the Baron’s exceptionally handsome bearing and oh-so-gallant behavior quite overcame my feminine faculties such that I simply swooned at the thought of becoming his wife. ”
Milton inhaled a hiss.
“I was so taken by his wealth of charm and bold powers of persuasion, ladies, that I’d have done anything to have him.” She violently pushed his hand from her person to inch closer to the edge of the chaise, leaning forward so that her knees nearly touched Lady Stanton’s skirts. “Anything at all.”
The lady startled so violently Elizabeth took the opportunity to stand and nudge the pug from her feet.
She continued to lie through her teeth. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I really must check on Annabelle, as my sister’s felt poorly all morning and I promised we’d call but a short while at your home.
Do continue to regale the Baron of my penchants and pursuits, however.
After all, you know me so very well, Lady Stanton.
And as my betrothed is so enamored of your pug”—she was too angry to look at Milton—“I would not dream of stealing him from your company just yet. Good day, ladies.”
She curtsied before making the fastest exit of her life, heading straight for her father’s house and as far as humanly possible from the awful, utter scoundrel she was betrothed to.
Beast!
***
Milton discovered not only Sir Wigglebottom pressed firmly to his lap, but six eyeballs trained in great anticipation on his person. He was shocked by the way Miss Winthrop had just turned tables on him, utterly.
He remained, as manners required, fifteen minutes longer to listen to the three excruciating women wax rhapsodic about his future wife.
He allowed the pug to drool upon his thigh.
He even took the crumpet handed him to feed said pug small bites, letting it lap crumbs from his trousers with its leathery tongue.
But the moment the room’s clock ticked past the quarter mark he deposited the panting pug upon the chaise and excused himself.
A certain conversation urgently needed to happen.
“Elizabeth!” Milton bellowed five minutes later from her father’s foyer. “Elizabeth Winthrop!” He blew right past the upstart footman. “Out of my way.” He pushed aside her simpering papa, who withdrew at once, the coward.
Yet when he reached a door blocked by Elizabeth’s sister, Milton stopped short.
“Miss Annabelle,” he stated, “kindly step aside.”
“Baron,” she leveled at him, “Lizzie does not wish to see you.”
His nose twitched as he stared down at her from his height. “Yet see her I must.”
“I’m afraid I can’t allow that, sir.”
Courageous, he thought, but she’d soon cave. He tried a different approach. “I assure you not a hair on Elizabeth’s head will be hurt once I enter her room. I wish only to converse with her.”
“It is improper.” Her face was too pretty for her frown. “A gentleman may not visit a lady’s bedroom unaccompanied, even if she is his—”
He stepped so close his waistcoat brushed her chest. “In case you hadn’t noticed, miss, I am no gentleman.”
She sucked in her breath.
“I can, however, give you my word no harm will come to your sister.” The sheer proximity of his body made her finally step aside.
If only it were that simple with her sister, Milton thought as he pushed past Annabelle Winthrop straight into Elizabeth’s room.
He took in her private space before he noticed her person, gazing out the window, back turned to him.
His betrothed’s bedroom was filled with books.
In fact, the room looked remarkably like a library.
Perhaps it had even been this home’s library once.
Books lined shelves which lined two mirroring walls, stacks of even more books piled upon every surface.
Correspondence, too, lay about the space, amidst piles of parchment and ink.
Was she some would-be scholar or secret novelist? Never in his life had he seen a bedroom so decidedly unfeminine. Its sole womanly touch was a small dressing table in one corner, pushed up against more bookshelves, with but a silver hairbrush and hand mirror laid atop.
“You are despicable.” She spoke without turning, her posture ramrod straight.
“Come now, Elizabeth, surely you did not expect me to—”
“I expected you to be a man and not an arse!” She whirled about.
He took a step toward her. “I did nothing but speak the truth.”
“Oh yes. After we’d agreed in advance to but a mildly colorful story to set them all aflutter.
” Her chest heaved with fury. “Instead, you chose to divulge the infinitely more scandalous, wicked truth. What a lovely wedding gift you have given me, sir.” Her voice dripped venom.
“What a ruinous gift you have given my sister as well,” she seethed.
“For now all future suitors will undoubtedly consider her just as willing to whore herself in marriage as I so clearly whored myself to you, for your rotten purse!”
Milton hardened. “Do not speak flippantly of whores, Elizabeth, given you are about to marry one.”
Her eyes turned into saucers.
“I also advise you see your intended for how the Ton sees me: a degenerate, illegitimate bastard who purchased his title outright, a man so debased he must also purchase himself a wife. And then, Elizabeth, I urge you to imagine such talk as had I not told Lady Stanton the truth. Imagine, instead, I’d spun some sweet little lie about sweeping you off your feet, of making you fall so in love with me that you were blind to my defects, blind to my very origin.
Imagine the rumors then as to your character, Lizzie, for surely the Ton would but deem you an ignorant chit, more foolish than even the lowest scullery who knows better than to allow a man as depraved as myself to seduce her silly. ”
He steadied himself. “Would you not rather they know the truth instead? That you acted nobly, honorably, in self-sacrifice to your family? Would you not rather the Ton see you as I did that day, as a woman of character and strength? For I have no intention of allowing society to degrade my future wife, Elizabeth. I warned you marriage to me would not be easy. I would rather be honest now and suffer both your scorn and theirs, than spin tales that will only come back to hurt our family worse, in years to come.”
***
Elizabeth collapsed onto her bed, her hand gripping her bedpost as the magnitude of his words sank in.
She was indeed marrying a degenerate, a scoundrel of the worst sort, and the Ton knew it, would let her know it, and would unfailingly judge and abuse her sister in kind.
He was doing her a favor to be so brutal now, even though it hurt like the devil to know she’d be an outcast, Bella treated little better.
She’d agreed to this marriage to spare her sister, but it seemed she could not save her.
Annabelle would bear the stain of this union too.
Bitter resignation swept through her.
“Lizzie…” He took a step closer.
“Don’t.” She shook her head, refusing to look at him.
“I am sorry,” he told her softly.
“No.” Her eyes met his, her insides quivering.
“You are far from sorry, sir. You knew exactly what you were doing when you swindled my father, just as you knew precisely what to say to Lady Stanton and her sisters today. Everything you have done thus far has been calculated with intent. You may be some nobleman’s by-blow, but you clearly have an agenda, and a wicked one at that.
I don’t know what it is you intend to accomplish with this marriage, but you care a deal much what society thinks, else you’d not be orchestrating things in such a backhanded manner.
And I do not understand your need for what is beginning to feel decidedly like, well, revenge. ”
He visibly stiffened.
“Please, leave.” She inhaled her next breath with difficulty. “Now that news of our betrothal will spread, there is no need for us to be seen together. And there is certainly no need for us to spend time together in order for you to pretend you remotely care.”
He took a step closer. “I am not done speaking with you, Elizabeth.”
“Well I am done speaking with you!”
For a split second the Baron looked stunned.
But then he grabbed her face and forced a kiss that brutally invaded her senses.
Elizabeth could barely breathe, his palms crushing her jaw as he angled her head for access.
He devoured her in full, lips breaking free only to travel down her cheek and suckle her neck till she was sure that he had marked her.
When he finally pulled away, he held her chin so she was compelled to look at him.
“I will see you each day until we marry, Elizabeth, and you will obey me in this. I am not done with you by a long shot, for you have rightly surmised I have plans. I have plans for us both. And you will neither thwart nor disrupt my plans in any way, else you discover more than my hand across your arse.”
He turned on his heel and left, Elizabeth’s soul so bruised by both his insult and assault she ached.
That night, she pulled out her stack of pages and picked up where her story had left off. She wrote like her life depended on it, for perhaps it now did. Perhaps the brooding baron mirrored her own bastard of a betrothed too close for what she wrote to be mere fiction.
Elizabeth had thought the two stories diverged, but plots blurred, the reality of her existence interjecting. Somehow she must expunge Baron of Milton from her breast, with the only tool she had: words.
The lady’s limbs ached, bound as she still was to the brooding baron’s bedpost. He’d abused her most cruelly when he’d savagely taken her lips.
She shuddered at the memory, though her loins shuddered wickedly too.
Fear and shame warred within her trembling, tattered heart.
Would he ravage her completely? Steal her innocence for good?
Did she wish for him to ruin her, or did she wish for her escape?
She was but a pawn, a prisoner in his rented, soulless room. Wholly at his mercy, she raged at his abuse. To use his lips as weapon, a kiss to brand her flesh… She felt sure she’d die for excess of emotion, careening between the highs of heaven and lows of hell.
Soon, the lady had no tears left to weep. She closed her eyes, desperate for oblivion, and was slowly swallowed by a dark and dreamless sleep. Her chin fell to her chest, her arms falling slack, still lashed to the baron’s bed.