Reckless in Innocence ~ A Free Historical Romance story ~ Part Thirty-four

Reckless in Innocence

for my Historical Romance readers ❤ © Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark, this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Reckless in Innocence

(an early Jane Lark story that is not at all associated with the Marlow Intrigues)

~ Read the earlier parts listed in the index

Elizabeth

“Lord Percy.” Elizabeth stepped back and acknowledged him with a curtsy.

“Elizabeth.” He said, in greeting, as he entered the room. “It is good to see you. You are looking remarkably pretty. I am glad to see you have dressed for the evening for me.” His hand rose and his fingers touched her cheek. “Beautiful, like porcelain. I have never seen someone so fair with not a single blemish. You have taken great care to look after your skin. I have wanted to touch it for a very long time. I have imagined it often.” His gaze fell to her lips, then lifted and searched her eyes for some response to his words. He was trying to move her in some way.

All she felt was fear. She had no passion for him as she had for Marcus.

He turned away.

“How are you, Elizabeth?” He glanced around the room as he slipped off his coat.

When he turned back, he held out his coat, treating her like a maid. She took it. Then he lifted off his hat and held that out.

While she hung up his hat and coat, he strolled across the room and dropped into a chair by the fire.

Elizabeth turned to face him. “I am well enough, Christian, although I am surprised you have not called on me earlier,”

“Missing me, aye?” He set his hands on the arms of the upholstered chair and looked up at her, his voice and his expression holding a note of sarcasm, not pleasure.

Elizabeth crossed the room and sat down in the seat opposite him, perching on its edge.

“You may sit, if you want to,” Lord Percy drawled, his sarcasm becoming cutting.

A frown pulled at Elizabeth’s brow. Was he telling her that she needed to ask for permission to sit in his presence, even though these rooms were her home now?

She schooled the anger his response fired through her and bit down on a retort. She needed to manage this conversation carefully. She felt as though she was on tiptoes. Her hands were shaking. One palm lay against her stomach as the other curled into a fist in her lap as she kept her back rigid and her whole body tense. “Christian… I was going to return my books to the library today -”

“I shall do it for you. If you give them to me, I shall have someone drop them off tomorrow.”

“I would sooner deliver them myself, then I may choose some more. There is very little to do here.” Her lips pursed as she waited for his response. His gaze studied her face. “May I take them myself tomorrow?”

“I am pleased that you are asking for my permission.”

“I did not realise I had a choice. I have been told that I am a captive here unless I am accompanied by you.”

“I do not want you wandering about town unescorted. Any number of scoundrels are about.” He held her gaze and was silent for a moment. She thought that he would be generous, and was about to agree to take her, but then his gaze dropped. He glanced to where her palm lay resting against the curve of her stomach and his expression twisted into a look of hatred as his voice flooded with vehement anger. “If I let you wander about town, Elizabeth, what would you do then? Live off my funds and still go to Tay for your entertainment!”

A chill swept across Elizabeth. The hair rose at the back of her neck and her fingers gripped the arms of the chair. Her body willed her to get up and run but her mind told her she could not. Where would she go? How could she evade the door man?

“Yes, Elizabeth, I know about the child, Tay announced your condition very proudly in White’s. I opened a wager, you see…” The anger in his voice had reduced and he seemed to be enjoying watching her response. She could not hide the pain which sliced through her. Lord Percy knew it would hurt her to hear that Marcus had bragged of her condition. Marcus had betrayed her, but she had known that. “…The wager was for your virginity. Does that surprise you?”

She shook her head. She had known of the bet too, although she’d never thought it serious. Lord Percy had hoped it would shock her. He was playing with her tonight, amusing himself. She was sport for Lord Percy as much as she had been sport to Marcus.

“Such a beauty, Elizabeth. So badly chaperoned, and so easily courted. Of course when I began the wager you and Tay were very much at odds, or so it appeared. Clever of him to make it look as though he did not care, and I never thought for one minute you were interested when he did pay you court. You always seemed annoyed with him. So you may imagine my surprise when the man boldly announced that he’d taken the wager, and not only that, but he had the proof – you are carrying his bastard.

“I had your letter in my hand. The bloody letter that would have won me the wager. That is why I did not reply at first, Elizabeth. I did not wish to be made a fool of, not once I saw the real reason for your change of heart. Tay had set you aside and you needed someone to bring up his bastard. Not I, Elizabeth.” He shook his head and drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, lifting his eyebrows in expression. “Compassion is not in my nature.” He stopped speaking then and looked to the bureau across the room.

“Fetch me a port. The glasses and the decanter are in the bureau over there.” The expensive piece of furniture was the distinctive colour of satin wood. He had not made his bet for money; he did not need the funds, he’d pursued her for fun – for sport. That was all she was to these men of greater society. She crossed the room and poured his drink, as he’d asked, then turned around, holding the half-full glass in one hand.

Lord Percy smiled at her and rested his shoulders back against the chair. “You are thinking, why have I taken you then? Why have I brought you here? I saw the notice in the paper, about your father being declared bankrupt, then your second letter came. There was something in the tone of your desperation that made me think. I admit I found it entertaining to know that Tay had left you in such a mess. Your circumstance seemed quite just to me. Then I realised the most entertaining and just situation of it all, Tay’s child could be mine.” He smiled at her as though he was talking of the weather. “Imagine his child brought up by me. I could turn it into anything I liked, good or bad.”

Elizabeth’s hand lifted and pressed against her throat. “The child is mine.”

“And mine too, now you are here. You have put yourself in my hands, Elizabeth, and so the child also.”

The blood drained from Elizabeth’s skin.

He held his hand out and clicked his fingers, in an expression which called her forward with his drink, as a man might call a dog forward.

She moved almost in a trance as she gave it to him, then she stepped back and stood beside the hearth, her mind spinning with questions of escape. To whom? To where? How?

“Sit down, Elizabeth, there is no need for feminine dramatics, you have nowhere to go but here and you will simply hurt the child if you worry.” He smiled unnervingly. “And we do not wish to hurt Tay’s child, do we?”

Elizabeth returned to sit in the chair opposite him, perching on its edge once more, unable to relax. “You will not harm my child. I will not let you,” she whispered, not looking at him but staring at the floor before his feet.

He laughed, but it was in an odd, mild tone. Her gaze returned to him.

She was sure he would describe his look as benevolent as his smile lifted to a grin, but to her it had a slant of madness. “I do not think I’ll need to harm it. It will be entertaining enough to have Tay’s child as my servant and its mother as my whore, especially when she had shunned me for the father. But I am good enough for you now, Elizabeth, now that you are desperate and Tay has deserted you.” He tapped his leg. “Come and sit with me here.”

Caution and uncertainty gripped as nausea in her stomach. Was he entirely mad? He did not seem at all normal.

“This is part of our bargain, Elizabeth.” He laughed, again, but now there was an edge of cruelty in the pitch. “Come, Elizabeth.” His voice dropped to a lower conciliatory tone. “I wish to hold you for a moment, that is all.”

He was charming her. She had heard the same sincerity in the speeches he’d given to her before any of this. His sincerity had only ever been an act.

“Sit with me. You have a roof over your head and food on your plate. Your child shall not be harmed. It is not so great a price to pay – to give a cuddle or two in return.” He waited, not saying more, allowing silence to be her persuader.

She rose. She felt unable not to. She had agreed to this, and at this moment she did not dare to offend him, she was too afraid of what else he might do if she offended him. She had offered him this, by requesting his help. She would fulfill her promise and act her part too, and then tomorrow she would think about how to get away.

When she stood before him, he lifted one hand, and with the other, tapped his knee. Elizabeth took his hand and sat on his thigh. His arm encircled her waist, his hand gripping her hip and then he slid her closer.

“You must give me kisses, Elizabeth. I think that kisses are definitely within our arrangement.” He was taunting her.

She closed her eyes and leaned forward to press her lips gently against his. His arm held her more firmly as his lips pressed back hard against hers. It was nothing like the kisses of desire she’d shared with Marcus. There was anger in this, the press of Lord Percy’s lips was brutal. The pressure lifted but then his teeth caught at her lower lip, and did not nip but sank into the soft skin. When he ceased biting her he let her go and pushed her off his lap.

She fell onto the floor at his feet.

Elizabeth did not try to rise, she stayed where she was, her fingers touching her lip. Blood ran through them and across her palm, then dripped onto the skirt of her pale blue gown.

“You see, Elizabeth, now I am good enough for you I find you uninteresting. Pregnancy is such an ugly thing.” His chin lifted in a way which implied he’d seen something that was in bad taste. “In fact now I have you here I think you are not good enough for me and as I may take or leave you I shall leave you for tonight.”

Anger and shame burned in Elizabeth’s skin.

“How the proud can fall,” he whispered. “I only wish that Tay cared for you; it would have been far more entertaining. I could have flaunted you before him and taken pleasure in watching him squirm. Sadly he doesn’t seem to give a damn.” He sat forward in the chair and reached out to brush his fingertips across her cheek as he’d done when he’d arrived. “I owe his family this. When the child is born, I think he’ll take an interest. I still hold the tool for revenge. The Campbells are too soft-hearted not to care for a vulnerable child.” He fingers slipped away as he sat back and sipped his brandy, still watching her, as though there was nothing at all odd in his behaviour or his cruelty.

She did not move from the floor, but sat there her fingers pressed to her lip, which throbbed in time with her heartbeat as he stared at her while sipping his brandy until his glass was drained.

Then he stood.

She still did not move. She had learned from her father, it was better not to present any defiance to a man who was violent.

He smiled as he looked down at her. She felt like his dog again. “No matter, Elizabeth, you have brought me some entertainment this evening. I only wish though you had brought your maid; I could have used the girl while you had the bastard in your stomach.” He walked across the room and set his empty glass down on the mantle, then turned back and suddenly reached out.

He gripped her arm, causing pain to shoot along her nerves as he pulled her to her feet. His other hand clasped her chin like a vice and then he kissed her, bruising her lip, knowing that it hurt her. But there was no anger in the kiss, it was simply a firm press of his lips against hers. Then his fingers touched the juncture of her legs and pressed her clothing against her shape, rubbing her there.

She pulled back, shocked by the intimate touch.

He let her go and laughed before turning away. “I don’t know when I will come back, Elizabeth.” He picked up his hat and coat, then added, “For now, I have other entertainments to draw me.” He turned back and looked at her coldly. “Goodnight.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

Elizabeth grasped a cushion to smother the sound and let out a screech of pain into it. Then she tossed the cushion at the door. It was an unsatisfactory complaint and yet she did not have the courage to do more.

Did she deserve this? No. She should not have come here.

Her fingers touched her swollen lip. Her mouth was full of blood. “You warned me, Marcus,” she whispered. “You and Abigail, and your sister-in-law; you all warned me. I should have listened.” A self-mocking smile stirred her lips. She flinched from the pain of it.

For the second time in her life she had made a dreadful, reckless, decision and she was paying the price.

To be continued…

If you cannot wait until next week for more of Jane Lark’s writing there’s plenty to read right now.

And if you’ve read them all already, then there’s another treat available for preorder, The Jealous Love of a Scoundrel is available in the Magical Weddings Boxset and all the books together are only 99c or 99p

To read the Marlow Intrigues series, you can start anywhere, but the actual order is listed below ~ and click like to follow my Facebook Page not to miss anything…

The Marlow Intrigues

The Lost Love of Soldier ~ The Prequel #1 ~ A Christmas Elopement began it all

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan #2

Capturing The Love of an Earl ~ A Free Novella #2.5

The Passionate Love of a Rake #3

The Desperate Love of a Lord ~ A second Free Novella #3.5

The Scandalous Love of a Lord #4

The Dangerous Love of a Rogue #5

The Secret Love of a Gentleman #6

Jane’s books can be ordered from most booksellers in paperback and, yes, there are more to come 🙂

Go to the index

For

the story of the real courtesan who inspired The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,
another free short story, about characters from book #2, A Lord’s Scandalous Love,
the prequel excerpts for book #3 The Scandalous Love of a Duke

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and New Adult Romance stories, and the author of a No.1 bestselling Historical Romance novel in America, ‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’.Click here to find out more about Jane’s books, and see Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark

Lady Caroline Lamb’s whole disgraceful truth… Part Twenty-three ~ A passionate love affair with Lord Byron

Caro and Byron were known to write to each other daily when their affair began and in the beginning they were equally enchanted by each other. Caro said in letters she wrote after the end of their affair, ‘Never while life beats in this heart shall I forget you or that moment when first you said you lov’d me – when my heart did not meet yours but flew before it‘ and Byron’s friend Robert Dallas wrote of Byron, ‘so enraptured, so intoxicated, that his time and thoughts were almost entirely devoted to reading her letters and answering them.’ On occasions they wrote four times a day to each other and Byron rarely attended the House of Lords at the beginning of their affair. But with a relationship of such high emotions there are frequently ups and downs, and Caroline, the lover of controversy worked hard to provoke Byron’s emotions. But before I tell you more, as usual, here is the background to this series of posts for anyone joining the blog today, for all those who’ve read it before just skip to the end of the italics where I have marked the text in bold.

I was drawn to Lady Caroline Lamb, who lived in the Regency era, because Harriette Wilson the courtesan who wrote her memoirs in 1825, mentions the Ponsonby and the Lamb family frequently. Also the story of Caroline’s affair with Lord Byron captured my imagination. Caroline was also a writer, she wrote poems, and novels in her later life. I have read Glenarvon.

Her life story and her letters sucked me further into the reality of the Regency world which is rarely found in modern-day books. Jane Austen wrote fictional, ‘country’ life as she called it, and I want to write fictional ‘Regency’ life rather than simply romance. But what I love when I discover gems in my research like Caroline’s story is sharing the real story behind my fiction here too.

Lady Caroline Lamb was born Caroline Ponsonby, on the 13^th November 1785. She was the daughter of Frederick Ponsonby, Viscount Duncannon, and Henrietta (known as Harriet), the sister of the infamous Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire.

Caroline became an official lady when her grandfather died, and her father became Earl of Bessborough earning her the honorific title ‘Lady’ and she grew up in a world of luxury, even Marie Antoinette was a family friend. Caroline was always renowned as being lively, and now it is suspected she had a condition called bipolar. As a child she earned herself a title as a ‘brat’, by such things as telling her aunt Georgiana that Edward Gibbon’s (the author of The Decline and fall of the Roman Empire) face was ‘so ugly it had frightened her puppy’.

And when she grew up Byron once described Caroline as “the cleverest most agreeable, absurd, amiable, perplexing, dangerous fascinating little being that lives now or ought to have lived 2000 years ago.”

I think it is fairly common knowledge for people who know of Lord Byron that he was bisexual, and whether he spoke of his sexual preferences to Caroline, we do not know. But we do know that she divined that he approved of her dressing in men’s clothing which gave her a boyish appearance because both her letters and the records of others mention it. But then Byron did say in his poem Childe Harold, ‘Come hither, hither, my little page!‘ And Caro did, as I have said earlier in this series of posts, she had previously dressed in breeches and disguised herself as a young man, she did it for William remember, to hear his first speech to Parliament, and so she now used the disguise to visit Byron at his rooms in the Albany.

This is a letter she wrote to Byron’s valet. ‘Fletcher-Will you come and see me here some evening at 9, and no one will know of it. You may say you bring a letter and wait the answer. I will send for you in. But I will let you know first, for I wish to speak with you. I also want you to take the little foreign page I shall send in to see Lord Byron. Do not tell him before-hand but, when he comes with flowers, shew him in. I shall not come myself, unless just before he goes away; so do not think it is me. Besides, you will see this is quite a child, only I wish him to see my Lord if you can contrive it, which, if you tell me what hour is convenient, will be very easy. I go out of Town to-morrow for a day or two, and I am now quite well – at least much better.’

Robert Dallas recorded seeing her dressed as a page. ‘He was a fair-faced delicate boy of thirteen or fourteen years old, whom one might have taken for the lady herself. He was dressed in scarlet hussar jacket and pantaloons… He had light hair curling about his face, and held a feathered fancy hat in his hand. which completed the scenic appearance of this urchin Pandarus. I could not suspect at the time that it was a disguise; if so Byron never disclosed it to me…’ Dallas added at the end of the letter, though, that he could not, ‘precisely recollect the mode of the page’s exit.‘

Rumour’s must have been spreading too because Caro’s mother-in-law (who also slept with Byron) wrote to Caroline, and she recounted it to Byron ‘Yesterday I received a letter from Lady M saying these words – Caroline is there no end to your strange adventures, will nothing cure you – I hear but I do not believe that you have a female Page – if so do not hope to make me laugh at yr follies but these are crimes’

That did not deter Caro, she was in love, completely and utterly fallen. She may have loved William when she married him but the love she had for Byron was the sort of love I like writing in my stories, the love that sweeps in like a bush fire and just takes over, and nothing will smother it. Byron was equally infatuated in the beginning, but I do not think it was ever love – for him it was lust. He was still writing to, and sleeping with, other women during their affair. So Caroline’s actions grew more and more desperate.

At the beginning of their affair she sent him a lock of her hair which had been cut when she was fourteen, ‘as you like curiosities I send you a relic of Lady Caroline Ponsonby aged 14 – & I request you keep it for her sake.’ By the 9th August 1812 she was cutting her pubic hair for him and sending him that with this letter.

‘Next to Thyrza Dearest

& most faithful – God bless you

own love – ricordati di Biondetta

From you wild Antelope

I asked you not to send blood but yet do – because if it means love I like to have it – I cut the hair too close & bled much more than you need – do not you the same o pray put no scizzors points near where quei capelli grow – sooner take it from the arm or wrist – pray be careful.’

Byron’s friend Rogers wrote of Caroline’s bold behaviour. ‘She absolutely besieged him after a great party at Devonshire House, to which Lady Caroline had not been invited,I saw her, – yes, saw her, – talking to Byron, with half of her body thrust into the carriage which he had just entered’ (I have loved this account of her body language for ages, it’s a beautiful reflection to apply to romance stories 😀 )

But as with her last affair Caroline’s inability to be discrete was making her the subject of scandal. Harryo wrote ‘Lord Byron is still upon a pedestal and Caroline William doing hommage.’

But Byron in his lust for Caro was willing to declare his equal adoration. He wrote in April 1812, ‘Every word you utter, ever line you write proves you to be either sincere or a fool, now as I know you are not the one I must believe you the other. I never knew a woman with greater or more pleasing talents. general as in a woman they should be. something of everything & too much of nothing, but these are unfortunately coupled with total want of common conduct – For instance the note to your page, do you suppose I delivered it? or did you mean that I should? I did not of course – Then your heart – my poor Caro, what a little volcano! that pours lava through your veins, & yet I cannot wish it to be a bit colder, to make a marble slab of. as you sometimes see (to understand my foolish metaphor) brought in vases tables &c from Vesuvius when hardened after an eruption – I have always thought you the cleverest most agreeable, absurd, amiable, perplexing, dangerous fascinating little being that lives now or ought to have lived 2000 years ago – I wont talk to you of beauty, I am no judge, but our beauties cease to be so when near you, and therefore you have either some or something better… All that you so often say, I feel, can more be said or felt? ( can more be said or felt – I love that last line)

Another way she tried to bind Byron to her was with gifts, she encouraged him to swap rings with her in a mock marriage ceremony and when she gave him a gold chain to induce more promises and allegiance, he wrote this to her…

‘Yet fain would I resist the spell

That would my captive heart retain,

For tell me dearest, is this well?

Ah Caro! do I need the chain

Nor dare I struggle to be free.

Since gifts returned but pain the giver.

And the soft band put on by thee,

The slightest chain, will last forever!’

Caro had kept these words from Byron, writing beside them. ‘These are the first lines Ld Byron wrote to me – I had made him a present of a gold neck chain and these lines were written at the moment‘

So for now I will leave them in their happiest moment and the next time I post on Caro I will come back to her affair with Byron and cover some of their less happier times. You can catch up on all the earlier parts of Caro’s story on the index .

If you would like to read my historical romance story that’s inspired by Caroline’s life it’s available now The Dangerous Love of a Rogue.

The next story about sub-characters in The Dangerous Love of a Rogue is now also available preorder. The Jealous Love of a Scoundrel is Peter’s story. See below to order.

Peter’s Story can be found in the Magical Weddings, summer boxset, you can preorder on Amazon here, it is also available from other eBook suppliers.

Or grab any one of my books, with free novellas and full novels in the UK from £1.20 and in the USA from $1.99

Go to the index

For

the story of the real courtesan who inspired The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,

Click here to find out more about Jane’s books, and see Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark

Jane’s books can be ordered from amazon by clicking on the covers in the sidebar, and are available from most booksellers.