Chapter 6

10 July 1814

My dearest Mrs. Hunter,

It is with some difficulty that I respond to your very kind letter of 7 April, which I received last week. I so enjoyed hearing all of the news of your lovely children, and of your husband's success in business. Riley in particular sounds like quite the little hooligan, and I am quite certain that he will prove just as charming in his adulthood as he has been devilish in his youth. The happy domesticity about which you write makes it all the more trying for me to write you with news that may lead you to no longer regard me with the sisterly affection that is so evident in your letter. Nevertheless, the lifelong love that I will bear for my Geoffrey compels me to advise you of a pending change in my own status.

On the second of June, I was honoured to be invited to a Drawing Room hosted by Her Majesty the Queen. As you may know by now, Geoffrey was awarded a posthumous title by the King at the same ceremony that William became a Knight Companion of the Order of the Bath. I also had a small role in the battle that William directed, consisting largely of ensuring that his ship, the Wallace, did not veer off into the Atlantic, stranding him upon the French ship that he had so gallantly captured. As a result, I have been in some demand here in London, and my escorts to the Drawing Room included no less than the Duke of Wellington and Sir Edward Pelham, Geoffrey's former captain on the Classic, who recently brought that wicked Bonaparte to his exile on the Island of Elba.

I have never been to such a gathering nor dressed in such opulent finery, and I would have been absolutely overwhelmed if not for the kindness of his Lordship and Sir Edward. At one point, as we were seated apart from the horrible crush of people intended to do us honour, Sir Edward remarked that if Napoleon had seen that this crowd of favour-seekers and sycophants were the power behind the King, he would have been emboldened to continue for another five years. To which Lord Wellington retorted with a paraphrase of an epigram that he had apparently delivered in Spain when sent a new draft of troops: "I don't know what effect these men would have on the enemy, but by God, they terrify me." It was all we could do to stop laughing when Her Majesty finally appeared.

Sir Edward, who had brought me the news of Geoffrey's death in person, has always been the very soul of kindness to me, and being thrown together in such a proceeding had the perhaps inevitable effect of drawing us even closer. When he later requested an opportunity to call upon me, I found that I could not refuse him.

Since that time, I have grown to appreciate his many fine qualities. While I cannot look upon him as a substitute for Geoffrey, nor my affection for him as in any way a replacement for the love I bore your brother, I do have a young son to think of as well, and I am convinced that he would be better off with a father in his life than without. This is even more certain in his case, as your father persists in maintaining legal proceedings, the result of which will be to declare my son illegitimate.

Accordingly, I have accepted Sir Edward's proposal of marriage. We have not as yet made an announcement of our betrothal, as Edward is quite busy re-fighting the Battle of the Nile. It is an odd occupation for a grown man, to be sure, but he takes no end of delight in it. In two weeks time, on the 1st of August, there will be a Golden Jubilee to commemorate 100 years of these German kings and also the Glorious Peace in Europe (although we are really celebrating our victory over Napoleon; I doubt a Pax Napoleonica would have been considered quite so glorious). Part of the celebration will be a re-creation of the Nile naval battle in the Serpentine, and as Edward was one of Lord Nelson's lieutenants at the Nile, he has been asked to supervise. We will publicly announce our engagement to a select group of friends the following day and exchange our vows in Westminster the following month.

I hope you do not think too poorly of me. With your permission, I will keep the drawing of Geoffrey that you sent me last year as a precious memento of the love that we shared. Should you desire it back, however, I beg you will not feel the least reluctance to ask me. I would dearly have loved to have had you as my sister for the rest of our lives, even separated by thousands of miles of sea, and I regret that circumstances were not otherwise.

With fond affection,

Caroline Stanhope

Caroline heard a sound behind her and turned to see Edward standing in the doorway.

"Edward!" she said with a start. "How did you, that is..."

"Ah, your Miss Sarah is my best ally."

Caroline sighed. "Perhaps I should hire another woman. Sarah has enough to do with looking after Michael and Lucy."

"You will be the lady of my house soon enough, my love. But I would be happy to send one of my girls over."

"No, no. You're quite right, Edward. I gave Mr. Pembroke notice today that I would be leaving at the end of August. He was not a happy man."

"Writing your sister-in-law?" Edward asked.

"Yes," Caroline answered with a whisper. "I wonder if I shall be able put it in the post after I read it over tomorrow."

"I cannot believe that my betrothed would ever lack courage."

"Courage?" Caroline said with a laugh. "Perhaps not. But judgment? That is altogether different."

"Come to bed, my darling," Edward said, his voice husky with desire.

"Bed?"

"Yes. You do have one, I see. Almost as nice as mine."

"But Lucy, and Sarah."

"Are your discreet servants, Caroline. Besides Miss Sarah already promised me breakfast in the morning."

"Why, that little..."

She was unable to sustain her false umbrage. Caroline had been terrified at their first coupling, over a month ago now. Geoffrey was the only man with whom she had previously made love, and then only during the short honeymoon before he had to return to this ship. Edward was ten years her senior, and Caroline had little doubt but that he had enjoyed his ports of call as much as all sailors did. It was true that the act itself no longer held any terror for her, but she wanted desperately for Edward to see her as a woman, and not as a girl of twenty-one. All she had to draw on were the sights of the men and women in her father's prison, married and unmarried, coupling unashamedly in their cells as she had walked past.

Edward was a man of extraordinary patience, a man, moreover, who had no intention of doing anything that would let such a jewel of a woman slip through his grasp. Caroline's confidence had grown considerably since that first time, and although she allowed Edward to pull her away from her writing desk, she made an impulsive decision as they reached the bed. She stopped, and when Edward turned to learn the cause of her delay, she quickly undid the sash of her dressing gown and let it fall from her shoulders to the floor.

"Caroline," he whispered, drinking in the naked body of his fiancé. It was a magnificent body. The only effect of her pregnancy had been an embarrassingly permanent swelling of her breasts, and an accompanying sensitivity that made her shiver with pleasure each time they were touched. Otherwise, her figure had returned to its previous contours, her torso only serving to accentuate the narrowness of her waist and the swell of her hips.

It was the center of those hips that caught Edward's attention. Caroline had neatly trimmed the lush, brown growth between her thighs, offering him a teasing glimpse of her cleft. She stood there in front of him, her hands on her hips, one foot slightly in front of the other with her heel off the floor, allowing him to fully see her for the very first time in the flickering light of the oil lamp that stood on his bedside table.

He reached for her, only to have her grab his arms. Stunned, he allowed her to push him back onto the bed.

She leaned over and reached for his dressing gown, pulling it open and yanking his drawers down his thighs and over his knees. Stepping on the garment, she pushed it to the floor and allowed him to free his feet just as she climbed atop him.

"It's my turn, darling," she said, her voice dropping to a lusty alto. "This time I want to be astride my magnificent stallion."

She continued moving up until she was sitting atop his thighs. He reached for her again, and she caught his hands once more.

"No," she told him, wagging a finger at him as he pulled his hands back to his side. "You will just do as you're told, naughty Sir Edward."

He could feel his manhood straining toward her as she held herself above him, just out of reach. He desperately wanted to grab her hips and impale her upon himself, but it was clear she had something different in mind. In the month since the Queen's Drawing Room, she had learned much. And like any spirited filly, she had to be given her head sometimes.

She put her fingers on her belly, tracing them upwards slowly. Edward gasped as they reached the underside of her breasts, and then curved inward, as she cupped the white flesh in the palms of her hands. He stared in wonder as he saw her nipples poking through her fingers, stiffening as they were squeezed between them. His cock jumped as she pushed her breasts together, rubbing one against the other.

She delighted in his open leering, the tongue hanging from his mouth, his struggle not to reach out and claim her. Licking her lips, she dropped her hands lower, pushing them across her belly this time, slowly approaching the triangle between her legs.

Caroline paused there, enjoying the touch of her fingers against her sex, wondering if it really would be a sin to do this to herself some time, when she was alone in the house. And then one hand plunged through her legs, to take her fiancé's cock in her slender fingers. He groaned as he felt her thumb on the ridge, softly stroking him. He was between her middle and ring fingers, which curled around to add to the anticipation of her delicious and most unexpected manipulations.

"What do you want, darling?" Caroline asked, her voice a sultry promise. "Tell me."

Sir Edward Pelham knew perfectly well how to speak to the common women and whores that he had encountered as a young sailor. But this was a lady, the Lady Caroline Stanhope to be precise. She couldn't possibly want that. Could she?

"Tell me, Edward," she repeated. "Tell me what you want."

He cleared his throat.

"For you to, er..."

She smiled encouragement.

"To what, darling?" she asked. She had pulled his cock up so that the tip brushed against her moist, swollen sex. She was rubbing it wantonly back and forth against herself, her face flushed with pleasure, her skin quivering with need.

"To fuck me," he whispered.

His reward was immediate. His cock was enveloped in a velvet glove, trapped in a prison of hot, undulating muscle.

"Again," Caroline repeated a few minutes later.

"Fuck me, darling," Edward said.

His words were electric. She closed her eyes and rested her palms on his taut stomach.

"Yes," she whispered back, her hips starting to slowly thrust back and forth.

"Fuck me, Caroline," Edward said.

"Oh, God." Caroline pitched forward, almost losing her balance.

Her breasts were hanging in front of her, dangling mere inches in front of Edward's face as she caught herself with her hands on his shoulders.

"Fuck me, my love," Edward said.

He realized that he had never enjoyed the sexual act so much. Caroline was his equal, his partner, taking just as much pleasure as she was giving. She had begun to raise her hips up and down, riding his pole just as she had promised, every tight muscle in her thighs and arms outlined against the film of perspiration that covered her young body.

"Fuck me, my wife," Edward said.

That was enough. She dropped forward, collapsing on his chest, her long, chestnut tresses covering his face as he took over the work, if it could be called that, of bringing them both to a peak. His hips thrusting upward against her, he knew that neither of them would last long. He found himself moving faster, harder, deeper than he had ever done before. Caroline was gasping, her breath coming in ragged spurts as she appeared to reach one climax after another.

Finally, Edward found that he could last no longer. His legs straining, he felt himself tighten and empty inside her, flooding her, it seemed, with shot after shot from the cannon wedged between her thighs. She had picked her head up, her eyes glazed over, her mouth a surprised "O," and she released one final, glorious shiver that seemed to last forever.

"I expect it will be a trying day, darling," Edward said the next morning as they sat at the breakfast table.

"Lunch with your sister is always trying," Caroline answered. "She still hopes to marry you off to her friend, you know."

"Miss Corring?"

"There has been talk of uniting your families for years," Caroline said, mimicking the tone his sister had used at their last meeting. She and Edward both began to laugh.