Bridal Favors - Engaged in Wickedness (9 page)

He felt her body still against him though her eyes were on his chin. He tried to remain frozen as well. He needed to cool their ardor, not inflame it. But some instincts would not be denied. She was sandwiched between him and the wall and, without him even willing it, his pelvis ground against her. He pushed his organ hard and high against her. Even through the barrier of their clothing, he felt the wonder of a perfect fit. She gasped in delight, one leg raising to grip him tighter. Sweet heaven he was going to explode.

"Yes," she whispered.

He didn't even understand her word, half heard through the roaring in his ears. But then she repeated it, lifting her gaze to meet his own. "Yes, Edward. Teach me everything."

He stared at her, his mind gone silent. He knew she didn't mean it. She was a gently bred woman, the daughter of an earl. She would not ask a man to take her against a wall. And yet the way she looked at him, her eyes dark and hungry and her lips swollen from his kisses, made him believe in the madness. She wanted him to take her. And if he had any doubt, the way she began to unbutton his shirt told him that she was in earnest.

He grabbed her hands, stilling them, though God help him, he couldn't pull his body off of hers. "Gwen," he said, his voice a low rasp. "Gwen, you don't mean it."

"I do," she said, her voice breathless. "I want to become a fallen woman."

"What? Gwen!"

"No, listen! I will be disgraced. No more balls and parties, no more afternoon callers. I will have to leave the house and find rooms of my own. Robert will give me my dowry, so I won't starve. Don't you see? It's perfect!"

She renewed her efforts at his shirt. Even though he held her hands, she was able to get most of it unbuttoned. She was tugging at his cravat before he could force himself to speak.

"Gwen, stop! What are you thinking?" She wasn't of course. Neither was he, but he had to be strong here.

She abandoned his cravat to stroke his face. Her expression was pleading as she spoke in a clear, certain tone.

"I'm saying I want you to deflower me. Take my virginity, Edward. Ruin me, please!"

He closed his eyes. Never had he imagined such a conversation, but somehow with Gwen he wasn't surprised. The wildness in her was boiling over tonight.

"Then we would have to marry, Gwen. Is that what you want? Will you marry me?"

She released a nervous laugh, the pitch high and too manic. "Didn't you hear me? I'm trying to get ruined!"

"I heard," he said, the pain in his heart doing a great deal to cool his hunger. And that gave him enough strength to slowly peel himself off of her. But he kept her trapped against the wall, their bodies a bare inch apart. "What has happened?"

She tried to draw him back. She tried to reach for him, but he remained firm and in the end she closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the wall. The leg that she had raised to pull him tight fell to the floor with a dull thud.

"Gwen, please," he rasped. "What has happened?"

"What always happens," she answered. "Can't you hear it?"

She meant the sobbing in the other room. It was quieter now, and he felt a stab of guilt that he hadn't cared about it. Not after he'd realized it wasn't Gwen. He'd meant to ask, but she had distracted him. "Is that your mother?"

She nodded. "She managed a bit longer this time. Last year she broke barely two weeks into the Season. Robert believes it is the stress of all the people visiting that sets her off. But really," she said, her voice turning angry, "what stress is there? She sits in a chair and makes polite conversation. It is hardly taxing. She only attended one ball this year. And yet the fit has come."

She gestured with an impatient wave to the other room. To him the sound was heartbreaking. No longer wails of madness, the sound was just sad. And lost. So very lost.

"She does this every Season?"

"And every holiday. We have not attended Easter services as a family in a decade."

He sorted through the information, trying to understand what could be done to help. "What does your father say?"

"That it is a good thing she already gave him an heir and a spare because he cannot stand the thought of mounting her again."

Edward winced. The relationship between his own parents had never been smooth, but they had never been cruel to one another. "And your brothers?"

Gwen shrugged. "Robert sighs and does his part, but he does not understand it any more than I do. And since there is so much work to be done with the Earldom, he is gone half the time. And Jack went from school straight to the Continent."

"So you manage the house. And your mother."

"Since I was ten."

He sighed and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "So young."

She pressed her cheek fully into his palm. "She was not always like this. Robert remembers a time when we went outdoors on walks. I can remember when Mama arranged flowers about the house and helped Cook make us treats. But that was never here. Never in London."

"So she does better in the country?"

"We thought so for a time. But she has the fits there too, just as often and just as bad as when we are here. And since I am of age, almost on the shelf, really, for the daughter of an Earl, we have to come for the Season. It would look very strange if we did not."

"You are not that old!"

She smiled at him, but the expression did not reach her eyes. "I am. And besides, I like it better here in London. If it makes no difference in her madness, then why not be here where we are expected to be?"

He nodded, understanding her logic. But what of her mother's illness? "Is there no medicine for her?"

Gwen released a snort of disgust which carried into her body. She pushed him away and stomped across the room. "There is always medicine for the wife of an Earl. Laudanum is the least of it. Possets, teas, bitter roots, and sweet cookies. We have tried them all. Robert has made a study of it, but none of it makes a difference. Neither does begging, tears, screaming, or even quiet silence." She dropped onto her bed in disgust. "Believe me, we have tried everything."

He shuddered at the bleak note in her voice. Now that the light fell fully on her face, he could see the despair written so clearly in the slump of her shoulders and the shadows beneath her eyes. "Gwen, this must be so hard for you." No wonder she wanted to escape.

Gwen said nothing, and after a moment he realized she was listening. The house was quiet, the sounds of weeping gone. Gwen pushed wearily to her feet.

"She has fallen asleep. Come. You can help me with the bindings."

She made for the door, but he touched her arm. "I cannot wander about your house, Gwen. Not in the middle of the night."

"Of course you can. The servants have all gone home. We don't keep any in the house anymore, not for years because of both my parents. Father was always accosting the maids, and for a while, the footmen upset mama. So we send them all away at night. Only Graves our butler stays, and he will remain in his room unless I call for him. He doesn't think it seemly for him to see the lady of the house like this."

"So you manage all by yourself?"

"It is the best way. Robert takes his turn, but he had the early shift while I pretended to feel ill at the Stoutham Ball. That will give us the excuse to deny callers for a few days. By that time, Mama will no longer be mad, only bedridden. Then it is only a week or so more before the Season is done."

"You have it all worked out." If he were not here right now, he might never have known the extent of the problem.

She pulled open the door. "We have had years to establish a system."

He could see it was true, but he also saw the weariness in her eyes and the desperation. It was terrible to have to live like this, constantly covering for her mother's madness. Then before he could think of anything to say, she grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him toward the door.

"Come and help me with her restraints."

"But she will see me!"

"She is asleep. The laudanum has seen to that. And even if she does wake, she won't care. She doesn't care what I do on her best days. You will mean nothing to her now."

Edward had no answer to that except to reach out and wrap her in his arms. He meant the embrace for comfort and she took it in kind. Her arms went around him, and she clung there, her body slowly losing its stiffness as they just stood there holding tight.

This time she was the one to pull away. He let her go, and a moment later they walked down the hallway and into her mother's room.

There was a lamp burning on the table nearest the door, well away from the bed. And a low fire going in the grate. More than enough light to see the frail woman with her wrists bound to an iron railing on the bed. Her ankles were tied as well, each tethered to the baseboard.

Lady Willington herself was hard to see. Her graying hair was matted against her dirty face and what there was of her night rail was twisted about her. She wore loose men's pants beneath her gown likely for warmth as well as modesty. There were no covers on the bed. Just the woman, stretched out unconscious and bound to the bed.

He crossed to her near wrist and the thick leather restraint. He meant to undo the buckle completely, but Gwen stopped him.

"You cannot. She will hurt herself if she wakes."

"What?"

She brushed aside the night rail at her mother's neck, exposing long grooves where the woman had clawed at her own flesh. "When the fit comes upon her, she tries to kill herself. I think the madness builds up until she cannot take it anymore and she tries to harm herself. We don't allow knives or anything sharp near her ever."

"My God," he whispered.

She looked up at him. "It passes. That is what Robert and I remind each other each time. It passes. I think the worst of it is done now." As she spoke, she released the restraints around her mother's ankles. The woman's legs flopped to the mattress without any signs of awareness.

"What happens after this?"

"A kind of dullness infects her. It is almost as if she leaves her body completely for a while. We will do everything for her. Feed her, bathe her, everything."

She meant that
she
would do everything. The burden of all this care would fall on Gwen.

"In time she will come back. She will begin to eat on her own, respond to questions again. Eventually she will come out to speak with Robert and me again. She will live her life for a time."

"Until the next time."

Gwen nodded. She had moved to her mother's face, slowly brushing the hair aside and adjusting the pillow to what might be a more comfortable angle. Looking at the woman now, he could see the resemblance between mother and daughter: high cheekbones, sharp slashes for the eyebrows, and a sweet rather pert nose. But that was where the resemblance ended. Unlike Gwen, Lady Willington 's skin was sallow, and her bones were frail.

"I cannot live like this anymore, Edward. I know it sounds awful, but you cannot know what it is like. Every day I watch her and worry if today she will descend into madness. In the morning, I have to prod her to get out of bed, to dress and to bathe. I count the minutes when she is in public, wondering if today is the day when she will break. When she will finally reveal herself to the world."

"No one knows?"

"Only the servants who are well paid to keep silent. There isn't any other family."

"But your friends—"

"They cannot know! It would end any chance for a respectable marriage for me and damage Robert's respectability. Even my father knows to keep silent about this. I think that is why he whores with any female he can find. It is so he will not even think about his wife."

Edward had no answer. He knew she was right. But what a burden!

"She will sleep now and be better tomorrow," she said, and her words had the sound of something repeated over and over through many years.

Gwen covered her mother with a light blanket then blew out the candle. Taking Edward's hand, they left together to walk slowly down the hallway. It wasn't until they made it to her bedroom that she spoke again.

"I cannot go through another Season like this. And I won't marry the first jackanapes who proposes just to escape. Mama needs to be in one home near enough to London to visit when she is well, but far enough away that the gossip will not reach London should her fits become known. Robert has found the property and is in the process of buying it. But we cannot move her there until after I am settled in my own home."

He knew where she was heading. She was speaking again about being ruined. "There are many ways to gain your independence," he said. "You need not be ruined or married. There are other choices."

"For the daughter of an Earl? I cannot attend balls without a chaperone. I cannot travel alone or do the smallest thing without a guardian. Not unless I am married or well beyond the pale. That only happens when I am very old or very ruined."

"Gwen—"

She abruptly pressed her hand to his mouth, stopping his words. Then with one hand, she shut her bedroom door. "I mean to be debauched, Edward, and I would like it to be with you."

He gently took her hand from his face, but he could not bring himself to release her. Instead, he intertwined their fingers. "I intend to marry you. My honor would demand no less."

She arched her brows. "Is that a proposal, Edward?"

He grimaced, annoyed with himself because his carefully constructed plans had gone so awry. "Take it as you wish, Lady Gwendolyn. If you wish me to ruin you, you must first accept my proposal of marriage."

"I have no intention of marrying you or anyone."

"Then I shall not—"

"But I do intend to be ruined. If not by you, then by the very next gentleman I can coax into my bedroom."

He glared at her, but she was resolute. Good God, he actually believed she would go through with her insane plan.

"You are mad," he said softly.

She lifted her chin. "Like mother, like daughter."

And right then, he understood so much. It was as if every piece fell into place in his mind, and he could see the whole picture. He knew exactly what he needed to do and how. So he stepped forward and stroked her cheek. His caress was tender, but it was not chaste. He let his thumb slid across her skin until he touched the fullness of her lips and eventually pressed inside.