Cast Adrift - Book 02

"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.

"I will tell her today that I have other plans," Edward said.

They both looked up to see Sarah enter with Michael in her arms.

"Ah, thank you, Sarah," Caroline said. "And how are you this morning, my darling Michael?"

"Quite well behaved," Sarah answered for him. "Quite the little angel he is, mum."

"I'll just hold him for a while, then," Caroline said, cradling her one year old son to her bosom. "Other than lunch, however, I cannot think what should be so trying, darling. It's just an opera."

Edward rolled his eyes.

"'Just an opera,' she says. As if most people went about life singing about their problems in duets and trios accompanied by an orchestra."

"I happen to like them," Caroline said. "And I cannot help but think the theme of this one appealing to you. Cosi fan tutte is about nothing more than the predictability of the so-called weaker sex, darling."

Edward rolled his eyes again, and Caroline feared he was about to make a licentious remark that even Sarah would have no difficulty understanding. The nursemaid was hovering around the door, still unsure, in her new role as cook, when she was being dismissed.

"How is Miss Lucy, Sarah?" Caroline asked.

"No change, mum," the nursemaid answered. "Physically, she seems fine. But her state of mind, mum, is not healthy."

"Thank you, Sarah. I'll look in on her when I bring Michael back to you after breakfast."

Sarah smiled and dropped a curtsy before she left the room.

"She is so very good with him," Edward said, smiling back as he watched Sarah depart.

"Yes." Caroline beamed at him.

"You needn't act like I've finally agreed to accept Michael into our family, dear. I loved him at first sight."

"I was thinking nothing of the sort," Caroline said.

"It was writ on your face," Edward pointed out.

"You know me entirely too well, Edward Pelham. What time is your sister expected?"

"Half past eleven," he answered.

"Then I shall barely have time to dress and look in on Lucy and fix my hair."

Edward cast a shocked glance at the grandfather's clock behind Lucy.

"But --"

"I am perfectly aware what time it is, Edward," Caroline said. "I shall be lucky to be ready by a quarter 'til twelve. Come along, Michael. It's time to see Sarah once again."

Sir Edward Pelham's laughter was still ringing in her ears as she abruptly stood and left, unwilling to let him see the smile spreading across her own face.

*********

Had she been able to think clearly the next morning, Caroline would have had to concede that Edward had been correct; the opera had proved to be far more trying than the luncheon. Charlotte was a polite, if perhaps not a gracious guest. She accepted the news of her brother's upcoming marriage with aplomb, her disappointment suggested only by a slight straightening of her back. Her subsequent conversation was more perfunctory than enthusiastic, but she did not make any truly cutting remarks about Caroline's usurpation of her friend Barbara's rightful place at her brother's side. Caroline entertained a suspicion throughout that her future sister-in-law's reticence may have been due more to her fear of Caroline's much sharper wit.

What the luncheon lacked as a trial, the opera -- or more precisely, the post-opera receiving line -- more than made up for. Before the curtain, the conductor had turned to the box in which Caroline and Sir Edward sat, and the audience had quickly turned his salute into a raucous cheering. Sir Edward pulled Caroline to her feet to acknowledge the applause and allow the opera, much to his chagrin, to begin.

Afterwards, a breathless stagehand appeared at the door of the box before the couple could depart, proclaiming that the cast had expressed a unanimous wish to thank the Lioness of Biscay Bay for her attendance.

Caroline flushed a deep scarlet, still uncomfortable with public recognition, and protested to Edward as they followed the young man down the back stairs that he should have received an invitation as well.

Sir Edward simply smiled.

"I may have brought the Emperor to Elba, my dear, but it was you and William who brought L'Empereur into the British Navy. Now just enjoy the attention, Caroline. I shall be more than happy to remain no more than your escort tonight."

Caroline nevertheless found herself reminding each and every cast member of Sir Edward's role in securing Bonaparte's exile, her face frozen in a smile as she struggled to find compliments for all of the performers. She found it easy to compliment the producer; the set had been stunning and the costumes lavish. Caroline introduced Sir Edward, and found herself introduced in turn to the producer's companion.

"Hello, darling," the woman said as she spread her arms wide.

Caroline found herself frozen, unable to prevent the woman from pulling her into a tight embrace and kissing her on the cheek. Her immobility vanished as she felt the bile rising in her throat, and she was similarly unable to prevent herself from pushing the woman away from her.

"Mother." It was a whisper laced with vitriol.

"Your mother?" Edward asked. "I thought your mother was dead."

"My mother is dead to me," Caroline answered with a sneer. "My mother died when she left my father alone in Exeter debtor's prison and me to raise myself in her place."

"Your father was a fool," the woman said, her voice rising. "I'm sure you don't remember either of his earlier bankruptcies, do you? Or that I was forced to support our little family on my back for three years."

"How smart of you to rehearse your most recent role, mother," Caroline said with a sneer at the producer. "You are still a 'companion,' I see. Another word for mistress, mother? Or whore?"

"And the high and mighty Lady Stanhope?" The woman's laugh was harsh and cutting. "How brave of the raven to chide the blackness."

Caroline drew back her arm to slap the grin off the woman's face, only to have her fiancé catch her wrist.

"Darling, we should leave," he said sotto voce. He firmly pulled her away from the line, away from the scene that would no doubt be the prime topic of conversation in coffee houses and parlors across London by the following morning. Caroline screamed back over her shoulder that at least she should be married within the month, and to the man that she was living with. But once outside, her venom fled. When she turned to face Edward, he found that he could not distinguish the tears on her face from the effects of the light mist. She buried her head in his shoulder and began sobbing. He gently led her to their carriage and assured her that all would be right in time.

"How could I?" Caroline was still distraught the next morning. "How could I act like such a . . . such a shrew?"

"You were provoked," Edward murmured.

"By my mother? I know she didn't have an easy life. Father told me as much. And still, as soon as I recognized her, I wanted nothing more than to repay her for all those years I spent without a mother, for all those years in which I took care of Father. It was as if I were possessed."

"I did not quite understand the reference to the raven," Edward said.

"She was calling me a whore," Caroline said, her voice bitter with memory. "And a hypocrite. It is from Mr. Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida."

"Ah." Edward nodded sagely. "Still, we have solved the problem of when to announce the marriage."

"Oh, Edward, I am sorry."

"It is no matter, my dear. As I have said repeatedly before, I care for nobody's opinion but your own. Since our betrothal is now a public matter, though, perhaps this is a good time to discuss our financial union."

Caroline invited him to continue with a smile.

"I feel somewhat hesitant bringing this up," Edward said. "You do have rather a fortune if I remember correctly."

"Everything that I have is due to the courage and generous of yourself, your officers, and your men," Caroline said.

"And William," Edward added by way of correction.

"Sir William." Caroline delightedly corrected him.

"Of course. Sir William."

"But Edward, you are quite wealthy yourself. I cannot believe that you require any more money. But you are more than welcome to it."

"No, no. You are quite right. I do not need to borrow your money. However, an investment opportunity has arisen that I -- or perhaps I should say we -- that we may regret not taking advantage of."

"Darling Edward, it was you who suggested putting my money in the Naval Funds. And I believe it had done quite well there. If you know a better place, I beg you, invest it where you will."

Edward smiled and pulled a letter from his jacket.

"I had very much hoped you would be agreeable, Caroline. This letter is part of a much larger packet I received from Charles Langhorne, a somewhat older gentlemen and one of my former lieutenants. A man under whom Geoffrey first served as a midshipman. He has secured a patent on a method of steam propulsion."

"For propelling what, darling?"

"Ships, of course, dearest. Mere boats to start, of course. But eventually he foresees the day, as I do, when ships may be propelled across the open ocean by steam."

"It sounds frightfully dangerous," Caroline said.

"Oh, no. I believe that our money will be quite safe. He has attained an excellent reputation in the days since he left my command."

"I meant the ocean travel, darling. I am more than happy to invest my money with your friend. How do I go about it?"

"I shall prepare a letter to your man of business, Caroline, authorizing the withdrawal of the necessary funds. Charles needs to buy a factory of a type never before built, and requires quite a sum to start. The good news, of course, is that we will be significant shareholders in his company. In fact, he has offered me a seat on the board of directors."

"So you will be able to supervise our investment. How wise of you, Edward."

"Thank you, Caroline. I believe it will make us quite well off in a very short time."

Although Caroline's spat with her mother was the foremost subject of conversation in both high and low society, Sir Edward's determination to ignore it was aided by a bustle of activity in both the financial and naval worlds. In between combining their two fortunes and planning his upcoming battle on the Serpentine, he had few minutes to spare for gossip.

Caroline was not as fortunate. Her outings produced looks of either sympathy or disgust from the women with whom she was thrown together, depending usually on the women's relations with her own mother. She eagerly looked forward of the approach of the Jubilee, knowing that only something so grand, or some fresh scandal, would distract the public.

All three adjoining parks - St. James Park, Hyde Park, and Green Park - were filled to capacity early on the morning of August 1. The crowd reveled in the many cake houses, taverns, and apple stalls that had been established in temporary structures throughout the entire area, taking in one highlight after another. Green Park featured Mr. Sadler's daring ascent in a balloon. Hyde Park witnessed the review of 12,000 troops by the Regent in company with the King Freidrich Wilhelm III of Prussia and Czar Alexander I of Russia, and a reenactment of the Battle of Trafalgar. And St. James Park, where Edward and Caroline were accorded seats of honor amid the throng, included a seven-story Chinese pagoda in addition to Edward's thrilling battle reenactment.

"Wasn't it a magnificent day, Caroline?" Edward asked as Colonel Congreve's fireworks display began to near its end.

"Is it the same day?" Caroline's voice betrayed just a hint of exhaustion. "I had rather thought we were long into tomorrow at this point, darling."

"Ha!" Edward laughed and absent-mindedly patted his fiancée on the knee. "I'm quite certain you are right. Let me see if there is enough light to see my pocket watch."

"Edward, look," Caroline said. He looked up quickly, alarmed by the urgent note in her voice.

"Look where?"

"At the pagoda. Is it supposed to be on fire?"

"No. It must be the gas. Those fools think that it is part of the show. Perhaps I should --"

Caroline heard one final explosion, which she took to be the last of the fireworks.

"Should what, darling?" she asked absently as she continued to watch the burning building across the park. "Edward? Should what?"

She turned and stared in horror at Sir Edward Pelham, whose head had sunk forward onto his breast, spattering his dark naval uniform with the bright red blood flowing from the wound in the center of his forehead.

"Vive l'Empereur! Vive Napoleon!"

She turned at the cry from behind her, her eyes widening even more. Less than ten feet away stood a poorly dressed man, his eyes wild, his beard flecked with saliva. In his left hand, he bore a pistol pointed downwards, smoke still drifting from it. His right hand brought up another pistol to aim at his next intended victim. Caroline screamed as she found herself looking down the barrel.