Read Journey's End (Marlbrook) Online

Authors: Bernadette Carroll

Journey's End (Marlbrook) (20 page)

“Madam, I think your appraisal of me is incorrect
,
for my behaviour clearly portrays that of a gentleman with a servant girl, especially a maid that provokes her master without promise of reward.

Laura tried to turn away, but Lord Henry would have none of it.  He held her firm.

“You are shaking my dear. Come,
come
! We should not quarrel you and I. I am sure Lord Ashley would have no qualms about sharing you with a friend.
Thomas has had his fun.
You see Laura, men are not afraid to share a good find when it presents the opportunity. If your consideration is Thomas then you may discard your concerns.”  Lord Henry’s madness grew in proportion.  “Enough! Let us dispense with the acting shall we, particularly since you are what I consider “used” goods.”

Laura’s anger reared instantly, momentarily driving her fear to one side.  Lord Henry’s stinging words struck hard.  She tried to lash out at his wrongful accusations, but she soon learned that they played this game on his terms.

Lord Henry began
his
assault in earnest.  “Scream if you like. You seem to have forgotten your position in this household
,
which is a fault of yours that I have noticed
often
during our conversations. That failing, madam, needs rectifying, and I think of myself as the one chosen to chastise you.”  Power over another human being is a strong aphrodisiac.  “There is one last thing you should consider.  If you had thought to inform anyone of this night’s activities, the story I shall convey will
go
something like this – I discovered your propensity for stealing and threatened you with dismissal, hence your lies. If made public, I shall be forced to lodge a complaint with the local constabulary and have you put up on charges. And let me assure you Laura, prison is not a place you would enjoy. Instead of a Lord, you would have to satisfy any man that offered his services
,
just to survive.”

L
o
rd Henry’s trap closed in around Laura, and a wave of physical sickness passed over her.

“Your sister did not put up a fight - she came most willingly to my bed. If you are only half as skilled as her, I should still look forward to the experience.”

Laura’s reaction told Lord Henry that he had triumphed.  He had exposed Laura’s vulnerability, a very valuable piece of information that he would store.  Her weakness was Sarah.

Laura shook her head in denial of his accusations, her own predicament temporarily forgotten.  But Laura's turmoil made her heart weep
,
knowing that his repulsive words rang true, and what fight she had left dispersed.

Lord Henry resumed his onslaught
,
sensing Laura’s defeat.  He used his weight as a weapon to constrain her.  Freed, his hands began to trace the outline of her body, ignoring the coarse fabric of her gown.

Laura tried
an
appeal one last time.  “I beg of you, do not
…,

b
ut the words trailed away.

The curve of Laura’s hips enticed him, the narrowness of her waist a tantalising torture before he moved to sample the breasts that quivered under his touch.  Laura had always promised beauty, and she did not disappoint.

Lord Henry lost patience with the material that dared bar his way.  The sound of ripping, as the cloth of Laura’s gown parted company, added to his excitement, the luxurious soft surface of her cool skin his reward.  He pulled Laura closer, ecstasy mounting as he moulded pliant breasts, a forerunner to his sadistic mouth that gnawed on them and caused Laura pain.  Any resistance from Laura spurred him to greater heights.

The floor became Laura’s bed.  Lord Henry used his body to cease the bulk of her fight.  He took his time.  He wanted to admire his trophy.

Laura’s nakedness, on view in the sparse light, illustrated perfection, his free hand conveying to him the pleasure a woman’s body can bring.  Lord Henry parted Laura’s thighs.  Any attempt to hinder his actions, he made known would not be tolerated.

Lord Henry would not be thwarted in having her.  Selfishly, he lunged deep and hard within Laura.

Laura’s cry identified her suffering, but callously Lord Henry stifled the pitiful sound before it could raise his
conscience
.  Fierce in intent, he smothered the mouth that repelled his advances.  Unmerciful thrusts increased in tempo until he knew there would be little delay in finishing with her.

Lord Henry
had ignored previous assessments of Laura’s innocence, and any evidence she had put forth to support the theory had been guarded against.  His wife had never cried virgin, and frankly
,
the state held no relevance for him.

Lord Henry searched for an escape
,
somewhere to offset blame.  Copious amounts of whiskey, consumed earlier in the evening, had clouded his
judgement
;
therefore his drunken state relieved him of any sin.  However
,
the silence soon compelled him to think otherwise.

Laura’s freedom had not yet taken place.  He had chosen to remain poised above her, his gaze fixed upon the devastation he had caused.  He knew himself to be a bastard.

Lord Henry could see what form his punishment would take.  The sight of Laura would haunt him in the days and weeks to come.

Laura’s emotions were obstructed.  She remembered a tender kiss, coupled with kind arms that had once welcomed her.  When her emotional release came, Laura cried not for the moment but for the loss of a future.  Sacrifices had been made in vain
,
for now no man would honour her.

Lord Henry looked to Laura and her gentle tears.  They were not the hysterical ones of his wife or indeed her sister
,
but silent escapes that touched him deeply.  Tonight his anger had been directed at another, and in all sincerity he had not set out to harm
Laura
.  Their meeting had been a coincidence with a tragic outcome.

In a vain endeavour to show tenderness, Lord Henry stroked Laura’s hair.  Tenderly
,
he brushed aside the straying tendrils of her colourless mane.  Dredged with his sweat, her hair lay entangled around her ears and throat.  His undertaking might have been lost on Laura but he was enthralled.

Lord Henry covered Laura’s nakedness with his body, her gentle sobbing creating a wetness that saturated his shirt.  However, instead of stilling his want
,
Laura’s grief opened a new crevasse
,
first arousing and then confusing him.  Ardour replaced malice, an emotion borne of affection, and although the deed was despicable
,
Lord Henry entered Laura for a second time.

For Lord Henry, sex was unhampered by responsibility or sin.  His first sexual experience had been in one of the tenanted cottages that had lined the estate, mundane housing that bred discontent.  The woman had been obliging in every way, ensuring his education had been thorough.  Pregnancy had complicated matters, and to this day he did not know if the child was his or her husband’s.  A fifteen-year-old boy did not bother with topics of that sort.

Many women had shared his company, but all had been willing in every aspect and accepting of his carefree lifestyle.  Any after-effects had been dealt with by others.  He was not deliberately hard
-
hearted;
this was just how life was
,
until tonight that is.

Whatever his rendition of events
,
he failed to locate an excuse that would allow him a safe retreat unscathed from her presence.  His final summation - all his self-searching was irrelevant.  He had not strayed from his original course and damned them both.

Lord Henry liberated Laura from his hold
,
the rudimentary beginnings of shame
beginning
to form.

Laura registered Lord Henry’s absence and fought hard to master her thoughts.  Bracing herself against the nearest chair, she managed to pull herself slowly to her feet.  Specks of blood had mingled with his fluid to smear her thighs, the flowing folds of her tattered nightgown unable to hide the evidence.  Pain, as yet, was an unrecognised factor.

Laura’s eyes were dry, as she absent-mindedly tidied her hair before retrieving the book from its place of abandonment.  She deposited the precious item unharmed upon the shelf, distanced from any threat of him.

“Laura.”  Lord Henry called, as she made her way to exit.

Laura hesitated before realising that there was nothing more to be frightened of
;
he had already harmed her.

The scene crushed Lord Henry’s spirit.  Laura tried to hide her suffering and vulnerability from him, her shawl wrapped firmly around her fragile body.  Fluid had seeped from under her gown to clearly mark the virginal whiteness of the material, as if denouncing him, and his guilt rose but had no where to go.

“Laura! I implore you to listen to me.”

Lord Henry
made no attempt to approach Laura, his words stated from the security of half a room away.  “I have seriously grieved you, and have only selfishness to blame that is derived from the world in which I live.”

Laura’s agony had begun to demand recognition, forcing her to concede that there would be no quick way out of her abyss.  To Laura’s credit the words that did eventually show themselves were extraordinary in their display of control, discipline originating from some secret place that grants strength when one faces adversity.

Laura confronted Lord Henry.  “This day you have grieved my hopes, my relationship with my sister and my self worth
,
not solely with your actions but also with your cruel, condemning words. I am a servant in your household rewarded for an honest day’s labour. To discover that I am worthless and command no more courtesy than you are willing to donate, does not do you, sir, or myself any credit.”

Lord Henry tried to respond, but Laura had said all there was to say.  She left him confounded and ashamed.

Laura’s room no longer felt safe, the lock on her door not to be trusted.  She sought solace from the one friend in which she could confide.

 

“Life is complicated and the one thing that I can be certain of is that it will remain so.  Tonight I lost my dreams, but I find it is enough for the moment that the physical hurt is over.

The blow that is the hardest to take is that my sister shares my ruin.  The pain I carry is not for my own plight, but that I have been remiss in my duty to one so young.  I did not protect Sarah in her hour of need.”

 

Laura made her way to her mirror and loathed the stupid, naive creature that looked back and denied her
even
one moment of sympathy.

 

             
             
#

             

Lady
Catherine
observed Laura from the comfort of her fireside chair.  Laura’s body showed no outward signs of demoralisation
;
however
,
her preoccupied state was puzzling.  She had decided to question Laura on the subject, but a sudden knock on her parlour door distracted her from her task.

“Enter!” Lady
Catherine
commanded.
 
The door flung wide with such force that she thought the hinges would loosen under her son’s direction.

Lord Henry crossed the distance of the apartment in mere seconds.  “My wife will remain in residence during my absence.  Business of a somewhat urgent nature has arisen, and I expect to be absent for several weeks. My duty to inform you is dispensed with, and I shall now take my leave.”

Lord Henry kissed Lady
Catherine
’s hand, the gesture formal in nature, his actions making it obvious that he was not the least bit interested in anything his mother might have to say.

Lord Henry did not deceive his mother.  Lady
Catherine
had witnessed Laura’s apprehension when her son had entered the room and viewed the awkwardness that sat with Henry.  As it was not

she

with whom
he had been uncomfortable, the elementary process of elimination led her directly to Laura.

Lady
Catherine
sighed.  She knew her son and was well aware of his errant ways.  As Laura’s protector, she prayed the situation that had created this obvious rift was not as she believed.  She liked Laura and would wish her no harm of that sort.  Moreover, she had never thought to behold her son’s discomfort in the company of a woman.

Laura was safe while Lord Henry remained in
London
.  His departure had placed distance between them, and since his wife remained in residence
,
Sarah was also secure.

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