Mark of Caine Trilogy: Book One: Hidden in the Shadows (Victorian Villains) (7 page)

Surely
not,
Laura’s reason insisted.
He would come to his right mind!

“I am not good,” he said in a low, warning
tone. “And I’m not accustomed to denying myself when I want something. I’ve
been cursed with a curse. And now you’ve been cursed with a curse. It won’t
hurt. I promise I’ll not hurt you.”

He made a sound again, a groan that was
wrenched from the depths of hell. His lips moved to her neck, and the stubble
of his beard chafed her tender skin.

She pushed against his shoulders, this time
with real effort. “You shall have me—you shall! But not like this. Only give me
time, husband. Allow me to keep pace with your passion.”

She tried to squirm out from under him but Tanner
caught her waist and pulled her back.

This was the moment, the one he would come
to reflect upon later in the night, the moment when he should’ve turned back
and left her alone in the parlour.

But he did not.

Tanner had heard of such things coming over
men of his acquaintance, hard men who would collapse of the sight of a
songstress
or an ingénue of the theatre. He’d seen
battle-scarred soldiers fall to pieces over a woman. Lose their minds.

Tanner had seen it, but he didn’t
understand it. He had no connection to that loss of self—whatever it was
called. He had no feeling other than loyalty to Victoria and his own survival.
He did not lust after money as other soldiers did, nor did he lust after women.
He used whores to gratify himself. Women admired him—or at least they pretended
to. Tanner did not believe it was possible to achieve much more than sex and
lies with a woman.

It was not love he was after with Laura
Mayhew. It was not love that drew him to her like a moth to the flame. It was
not love that compelled him to open his breeches and reach between his legs for
his cock.

He unfastened the hooks and eyes of the
grey bodice. Her skirts were pushed up to her hips and her feet were still shod
in the institutional black boots and black stockings that were rolled up to her
thigh.

Above this was the sweet pale triangle of
her womanhood and her firm round buttocks.

Tanner controlled himself when he looked at
her. His hands were shaking, his breathing roared in his ears like the ocean
tide coming in.

She stopped fighting him and lay unearthly
still, allowing him to unfasten her bodice and remove it from her long thin
arms. He tugged on the white satin ribbon of her chemise and the thin fabric
parted. Laura was not yet out of her teens; her breasts were young, perfect
orbs.

She did not utter a word of protest when he
kissed the budded nipple of one, and then the other. Tanner gathered her in his
arms. She was slight in form, a sensuous creature of the forest, one of those
pixies she had talked about, or a nymph or a fairy. But lush where a man wanted
a woman to have curves. He nibbled on her breasts over and over again.

The glow of her skin was like moonlight and
the iridescent phosphorus he’d seen in the ocean. The sea was Tanner’s natural
home. He decided then and there that Laura was not a creature of the forest but
a creature of the sea. That was the source of her power over him.

Her thighs began to tremble.

He closed his eyes and took her tit in his
mouth. He teased, suckled and bit her tender flesh, and then he heard a small
moan release from her lips. When he glanced at her face, Tanner saw that her
eyes were closed and her arms were overhead in languid submission. Her head was
turned from him.

“I have always wondered,” she said softly,
“what sex was like and
Loosey
would never tell me.
She said it was too dangerous to know. Why is it too dangerous?”

“I’ll show you.”

HER FIRST thought when he touched the slit
between her thighs was that she must have confused the sex act was something
else altogether. Louise had been her best source of information in this area,
but her friend had skimmed over the particulars and Laura had not liked to pry,
especially in the dreadful days that followed.

Tanner
Caine
was
doing something between her legs with his fingers that was wonderfully
pleasing. At the same time she wondered if it was at all
healthy
. He kissed her again and again on her lips and though she
had not liked it at first, she began to respond. This set Tanner aflame and she
resolved not to respond to his kisses in future.

He lurched to his feet and wrenched his
clothing from his body as though the white shirt and fine coat were strangling
him.

She had never seen a naked man before and
Tanner’s nakedness was almost more than she could bear. He was like a marble
statue in the Victoria and Albert Museum, perfectly carved, perfectly shaped,
lithe and yet muscular like whipcord, strong and young. He was a beautiful man
or what she imagined a beautiful man must look like.

But seeing him thus—and the size of the
organ between his legs—decided the matter for her. “I have changed my mind. I
don’t want to know about sex.”

Tanner lifted her from the lounge and
carried her to the window seat where sunlight shone through diamond-paned
windows. The deep alcove was furnished with an embroidered cushion and was deep
enough to sit comfortably.

“You will not take my virginity. I know you
will not. It is not a question of rights—our marriage is not real. I am not
willing
, sir.”

She was only half-certain of this. The
truth was
,
Laura was terrified but not unwilling
exactly. Losing her virginity did not worry her, but the method—this
Tanner
Caine
.
His manhood thrust out from a nest of hair between his legs.

“Stop talking,” he said gruffly. “Close
your eyes. I make no promises. There will be pain and there will be blood and I
make no promises. I am already damned in the hereafter; that will have to serve
for justice in the here and now.”

“I will not close my eyes. You will not do
this! Tanner!”

He knelt between her legs, gripped her
knees and pushed them up. Laura was forced back against the cool window as his
dark head lowered between her sun-splashed legs. She could not believe what he
was doing. Tanner pressed his mouth to her moist, quivering sex and suckled her
in a place she did not know existed.

“Oh, oh my God, Tanner, no, no, no....”

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Tanner’s
mouth, his lips, tongue and even his teeth manipulated that most private place
on her body. His hands held her legs firmly apart though she tried to close
them, and the noises he made as he plundered her were alarming and exciting.
Laura was filled with shame for she found she was responding to Tanner’s oral
stimulation. Her body could not help it. When he began to lap at the engorged
bud, flicking, licking and slurping—she felt a pressure—an exquisite pressure
building in her lower belly.

And then he did not have to hold her legs
apart any more—they fell open, wanton and greedy, of their own accord. Tanner
devoured her sex, plunging his tongue inside her vagina and back out again to
lap that oh so pleasurable bud!

Laura’s hips moved and mashed against his
face, grinding wildly as the pleasure crested. Her breath rising, her blood
pounding and then she lost herself in time and space until ... until....

At its climax, she gripped the frame of the
window, opened her mouth and let out a keening cry of pure ecstasy.

TANNER POSITIONED himself between her legs,
holding his cock in his hand. Her fluids dripped from his chin and had soaked
the cushion. Her chemise was open, exposing her young tits to his hot stare.
Her eyes were on his, those ocean eyes of green. She was ripe and ready. A
virgin but ready to take him.

He gazed at her taut beautiful flesh, her
flawless skin. Her breasts fitted his hand; her little belly was round and
fertile, directing a man’s eye to the carpet of glossy gold and red hair
between her thighs. But her face—she had the face of an angel—conceived in
heaven. He was shaking looking at her. He was shaking in his soul wondering
what she thought of him.

And then he deliberately turned his marred
face to hers. Tanner pressed his cock against her tight virginal entrance,
filled his mind with every despicable thing he’d seen and heard in his
twenty-nine-years—

And thrust.

Tanner closed his ears to her shout of
pain, gripped her narrow hips and pounded deeper inside her, breaking her
hymen. The release, the flood of moisture as well as her tears, signalled the
irrevocable loss of her virginity.

One thought—a memory—flashed through his
mind. Something she had said.

“But
that your trespass now becomes a fee; mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom
me.”

§

THERE WERE few things Her Majesty hated
worse than being kept in the dark. Mr.
Caine
had not
yet sent word that he had been successful in his mission and a new difficulty
had arisen that made it imperative to silence Laura Mayhew as soon as could be.

One of her agents had informed her that
Prince Leopold was asking after his tutor, Lieutenant Walter Sterling. The boy
wanted to know when he was going to return to service. Her youngest son had
formed an attachment to the officer in a very short time. It seemed that all of
her children had become enamoured of the dashing lieutenant. But Leopold was a
heartbreaking case. A haemophiliac, he had not enjoyed the rough and tumble of
boyhood and was frequently set apart from other boys and men. Walter Sterling
had been a godsend, one of the few gentlemen who understood the young prince
and could talk to him, man to boy.

Why did he have to spoil it by encouraging
Louise in her adolescent crush? The twenty-six- year-old regimental officer
must’ve known this would happen! He had experience with the opposite sex before
this. He took advantage is what he did. He took advantage of a silly, sheltered
young girl, and now there was Louise’s friend, Miss Mayhew, making things
worse! Stories of an illegitimate child that had been spirited away—the scandal
sheets would have a field day with such a story if they got hold of it.

Where
was he?
Why did he not send word? Laura Mayhew must
not reach London, God forbid. Queen Victoria paced her bedchamber. Perhaps she
should write the director of Gateshead Insane Asylum enquiring after her
charge. His response could be illuminating. It was better than not knowing
anything at all.

She sat down at her desk and took up pen
and paper to compose her message. It crossed her mind then that there was
something else to worry about. She remembered Laura Mayhew as being an
exceedingly pretty girl.
Far too pretty for a
lady-in-waiting.
Victoria had warned Louise against the friendship. And
yet, until this, Laura had proven a true and loyal friend.

She had a moment’s uneasiness, recalling
the delicate, arresting beauty of the girl. Thus far, Mr.
Caine
had shown himself to be resistant to a pretty woman with a well-turned
ankle—unlike other men in her household—men such as Lieutenant Sterling.

Nevertheless, Tanner
Caine
was not a monk and he would be alone with his mark all night. Longer perhaps; there
was still the journey to Dorset and Laura Mayhew was a cunning little minx....

Victoria shook off her misgivings. No, what
she was thinking was inconceivable. She had absolute confidence in her man.
Tanner
Caine
had a heart as black as coal and he was
as mean as a snake. He would not fall for a pair of pretty eyes and a beguiling
smile any more than Queen Victoria herself would.

§

“I DO NOT appreciate being taken for a
fool.”

She dragged her bodice over her bare
shoulders. She had lost her hair ribbon somewhere and then remembered it got
stuck in the bramble bush. Her fingers trembled as she refastened the hooks.

Laura could not look Tanner
Caine
in the eye without giving herself away. Her gift of
second sight had failed her utterly with this man. She was at his mercy,
dependent on his whims and caprices, unable to adapt her conversation or her
personality to suit his expectations. Meeting expectations was the method of
survival she had employed all her life. But with Tanner
Caine
it was as if a dark cloak had come down. The one man it meant life and death to
know was a mystery to her.

He stood at the hearth, his shirt hanging
open over his breeches. He’d dressed without haste or shame after he’d moved
off her. Tanner did not seem to feel he had done anything wrong.
Legally he had not
, Laura reminded
herself.
Taking a wife’s virtue is not a
crime.

His hair hung in his scowling eyes. Leaning
against the hearthstone, his visage appeared diabolical, “I thought it would go
easier for you if you didn’t know what to expect. I am not sorry.”

Laura glanced at him sharply. “We come to
the truth at last.” She was not frightened, only bitterly angry. “When did you
first conceive the idea of violating my person?”

“When you undressed for me in the hedge
maze,” he replied with cool arrogance. “Are you going to be troublesome about
it?”

“I did not undress
for
you—I undressed and you were there.
Troublesome?
Nay, I shall not be troublesome. I am at your service, husband. Why the delay?
Fetch your weapon out of you pants and have a go at me again. Come on. I
promise I won’t cry out this time.”

“On the contrary, your cries of pleasure
gave me every indication you were enjoying yourself. A rare reaction for a
virgin, I will allow, but I have seen a few women enjoy the sex act—prostitutes
mostly; women who must earn their way in life.”

“You sound rather an expert on the subject
of women and their sexuality, sir,” she said contemptuously. “The stupidity of
your conclusion rests on your sources. A prostitute costs a man nothing and
takes nothing. A prostitute is not a woman—not to a man she is not. She is only
a mirror—an extension of himself. Pit yourself against a woman whose love you
did not have to buy or steal. I dare you. I dare you to try to win
my
love after what you have done.”

A shadow crossed his face. “You talk as if
you know anything about it.”

“I talk as if I know a thing about men. My
gift sets me apart from other women of my class. It makes me of aware of evils
of which I would prefer to remain in ignorance.”

“Your gift?”

“I sense events that occasionally come to
pass.”

“Yet you could not foresee what I would
do.”

She would not meet his eye. “No, I could
not. My gift does not occur consistently in your case, only a vibration here
and there, such as when I realized you were not going to kill me.”

“Is it wise to place so much dependence on what
amounts to a hunch? If you had been less naive you would have taken greater
care, given the sort of man I am.”

“And what sort of man is that? Enlighten
me.”

“Not the heroic kind,” he said shortly.

Laura laughed bitterly. “Honest and to the
point. You are a man of few words, Mr.
Caine
. And
here I thought we were getting better acquainted. I am at a disadvantage, I
know nothing about you and you know everything about me.”

“Does it matter to know me so well? You
know me well enough.” Tanner shifted uncomfortably. “I should not have taken
you. I have no excuse. I was overcome—I can’t explain it. I am frequently at a
loss for words but I feel it more keenly with you.”

She reacted with surprised mistrust. “Why
with me? I am not so very terrifying.”

“To some, you would be. I was never an
agreeable conversationalist with women and I never cared to be. I shouldn’t be speaking
at all under the circumstances.”

“True. You might discover that I am a human
being.” Laura sank to the floor. “I don’t see that it matters now what sort of
man you are. I am cold. May we have a fire?”

He moved to the hearth, glad to have
something to do. The wood box was well supplied. Tanner kindled a blazing fire
and carried over a chair for her. “Sit. Please. Would you like a wet cloth to
... ah ... clean yourself?”

She curled her body into a ball on the
chair, pulling her knees to her chest. “I would like a bath and a hot meal even
more.”

“I’ll see to it. The bath might take some
time to heat the water.”

Tanner handed her the shawl which Laura
accepted with weary resignation. She was too baffled and dismayed by what had
happened between them to fight his overtures of reconciliation. He left her
alone with her thoughts in front of the fire.