A Regency Seduction Pt. 02

"We will see about that," he said grimly, before standing up and limping out her window, not even sparing her a second glance.

***

It had been six days. Six days and six nights since she had last seen him, since she had allowed him to take her so mercilessly in her own bedchamber, before forbidding him from ever touching him again. And he had obeyed her word, sending no news, not even a cursory note asking her to let him know if she did not bleed. (She did bleed, but he did not know that, the cur! What if she were carrying his babe while he ignored her?) Their last experience together had left her unmoored and devastated. Try as she might, her heart betrayed her, bringing up the night's memories. He had let her see his deepest vulnerabilities but rejected her attempts at offering comfort. He had raped her, and she had enjoyed it. Would she really abandon her goals and values for a night of pleasure? Surely that could not be right.

After nearly a week of moping, she felt some of her determination and good humour seeping back into her. She was a woman of action, and she would take charge of the situation, like she always did, with a cheerful smile and a determined regard.

It was with these goals that she found herself trekking to the Wentworths' residence. She could not call upon Phillip at his bachelor lodgings, but she could call upon his cousin. A social call. That was all it would be.

"How fortuitous, the cook was just about to bring round a pot of tea and your favourite rout cakes!" Anne Wentworth dimpled as she embraced Vivian, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to bathe in her comforting scent of lavender and honeysuckle. And then Anne's smile dimmed and she looked at her in concern.

"Why, whatever has happened?" she cried as she gently sat the two of them down on a settee and took Vivian's hands in her own. "Is it Phillip?"

"No!" Vivian's voice cracked, and she was terrified of showing emotion. "I mean, ahem, it is not him. It is..." she cast about wildly, wondering what to blame her anguish on. "It is the thought of marriage!"

"Oh," Anne smiled knowingly. "Yes, it can be quite a frightening endeavour, can it not?"

Vivian puffed her chest out. "I am not frightened of anything!"

At Anne's sympathetic look, she exhaled loudly and sagged back in the chair. "Well, suppose I am a bit apprehensive..."

"Is it because you are afraid that he will not allow you to continue as Mrs Pennyworth?" Anne asked simply.

Vivian gasped, then looked about frantically, afraid that Oliver Wentworth would leap out of the shadows and shoot her in the leg. "Anne, you knew!"

Anne smiled again, eyes twinkling merrily. "We shared the same lawyer, you know."

Vivian groaned. "So Phillip told me. Do you hate me for all the awful things I wrote?"

"Oh, no, my dear!" Anne looked earnest. "If anything, all those years I was alone in that small mining town with no news of home, Mrs Pennyworth's words kept me assured that no harm had come to my loved ones. And, well, it taught me that Oliver's love for me had not diminished. One does not find a naked Incomparable in his room and proceed to declare his affection for a missing spinster instead."

Vivian giggled at the memory of Miss Dalton's anger when her plan to force him to marry her was foiled, then blanched. "Wait, if you know, and your cousin knows, does Captain Wentworth also know?"

Anne tapped the side of her nose. "I do not think so, no. Marriages benefit when spouses keep at least some secrets from each other, I think."

"Anne," Vivian said in a small voice. "About your husband..."

Anne looked at her askance. "What about Oliver?"

"Does he ... well, he seems intense."

Anne laughed. "He does, does he not? You have not seen him around Edward, though. With him, he turns into a goose." Here, she sighed. "I suppose he is making up for all those years lost."

"Anne," Vivian said quickly, before she lost the nerve, "has he ever been cruel to you? You know, since he has so much power over you?"

She expected her to look surprised, or outraged, or at the very least crestfallen. Instead, Anne blushed.

"Anne!" Vivian gasped, trying to not think about her own wanton reaction to Phillip's forceful seduction.

"He can be - harsh - in the bedchamber. But oh, Vivian, do not judge me, for it only serves to intensify my pleasure."

Now it was Vivian's turn to colour. "Do you mean, you-"

Anne nodded. "Outside of the bedchamber, he is an entirely different man. Sometimes I catch him looking at me like he has stumbled upon the world's greatest treasure." Then she looked at Vivian, concerned. "Why do you ask? Has Phillip been-"

Vivian flushed, thinking of that night with him, but also remembering their first time together. "I am afraid I have been beastlier to him than he to me. But Anne, our impending union makes me so very worried. I do not wish to become a slave to another's whims."

Anne smiled knowingly. "Marriage can set you free in its own way, but only if you love each other."

Vivian was feeling glum. Perhaps Phillip's broodiness was catching. "But how can I tell if it is love?"

Still smiling, Anne squeezed her hand. "It will be clear as the night sky to you, when the time is right. You came here to gather my cousin's whereabouts, did you not?"

Mortified, Vivian shook her head.

"Well, regardless, I shall tell you. He has been confined to his quarters for the most part. All though Wentworth was telling me that he has been visiting his gambling den this past week a lot." Here, Anne threw her another quick, sympathetic look. "I wish to only be honest with you, my dear. But I do not believe him to, well, cavort around with other women."

Her words were lost on Vivian, whose ears were ringing and eyes seeing red. Phillip was at Wentworth's gambling den? Did he think he could ravish her like that and then ignore her while he gambled away his fortune, or worse? Whatever manner of degeneracy he was up to over there, she would find out.

"Anne!" A voice thundered down the hall, making the teacups rattle. Wentworth stomped in, his face inscrutable except for his blazing eyes. "Did you tell Edward he can leave us and go to boarding school when he is older?"

"Oliver!" Anne laughed. "That is years away. And we have a guest."

Angrily stalking towards his wife, he picked her up in his arms and threw her over his shoulder like she was a sack of grain. "Lady Vivian will see herself out, will you not?"

And then he gave her a look that promised to rain hellfire down upon her if she got between him and his wife.

"Of course," Vivian answered smoothly. "Please, do not let me stop you. More cake for me."

For an instant, Wentworth's mask cracked and he almost grinned, but then his wife protested again, and he stalked away like Zeus with his conquest.

Vivian nibbled at her cake thoughtfully. It was time to end her tendre for Phillip, once and for all. He was not worthy; he was simply another cad, with pockets to let, no doubt. She now knew where her betrothed was and she was going to catch him red-handed, getting drunk and racking up debts on the assurance of his marriage to an Earl's daughter. Millicent's other uncle was a lawyer; he would surely help her get back in touch with her publisher. And then, well, she only hoped that Anne would forgive her for exposing Phillip's dishonour to the world. Because to not do so would be to leg-shackle herself to a man who had the very real power of hurting her and breaking her heart.

***

Anne had once told her the story of how she had met Oliver after a decade apart. She had apparently dressed up as a man and taken Phillip - who did not know of their history on account of him being in his leading strings when they were first betrothed - to Wentworth's gambling den. What happened next, Anne had glossed over, but Vivian imagined it was similar to whatever had happened between her and Phillip that night.

She was very impressed by her friend's ingenuity in her quest for adventure, but knew that Anne had erred by accompanying her cousin and dressing as a man for the trip. It was far more difficult for a woman to pass off as a man, especially in the company of a male relative who looked extremely wary and protective, as Phillip no doubt did. Vivian would not make such an amateur mistake. For she was a mistress of disguise and intrigue, having led a double life for years.

And so it was that she found herself in Wentworth's gambling hell, dressed rather provocatively and wearing a wig (which she had procured from her suffragette friend who was a theatre actress) and a mask. The friend had been kind enough to provide the layout of the place and told her to expect to witness many shocking indecencies in advance. Which was why she felt relatively unruffled as she strode towards the bar with a sense of purpose, after exploring the place and not finding Phillip anywhere.

"Your best whisky," she said briskly to the bartender.

"Let's start you off with a brandy first," a smooth voice spoke behind her.

She jumped. It was Captain Wentworth, his usual inscrutable mask in place.

"I assure you, Sir," she returned in even tones, "I can quite handle my drink."

He intertwined their arms companionably and started leading her away. "If that is the case, so be it. But come, let me escort you to a safe place. You will find that this venue is not quite suited for genteel ladies."

"Oh, ahem, well that's not a problem because I am not genteel. No, Sir, I am but a humble doxy. Well," she amended hastily, pride getting in the way, "not very humble. I am a rather successful Cyprian, but you would not know since I arrived on the scene after your marriage."

A smile tugged around his lips. "In that case, let me introduce you to some prospective clients. I think the Viscount Byrne, Lord Applefield's son and heir, is here tonight, and he is known to treat the ladies of the night very well indeed. In fact, just yesterday one of them refused payment for his services after he left her very satisfied."

She gasped. He was going to take her to George, her brother?

He started grinning. "Come, Lady Vivian. Surely you expected to have your sensibilities offended when you came here."

She gritted her teeth. "You will find it much harder to offend my sensibilities than that, Captain. I will not leave until I locate my debauched fiancé."

"Musgrave," he almost groaned. "What did that fool do to deserve your wrath now? Are you still looking to end the engagement?"

"Of course," she responded airily, tamping down on every instinct that wanted to scream that no, she very well did not wish to end the engagement. What she wished to do was to drag that bounder out by his ear and never let him out of her sight again.

"And you thought you would come here so you could blackmail my family member, the godfather of my child?"

"Uh, yes," she nodded, looking a bit sheepish. "Surely you approve. I hear you blackmail people very often yourself."

He nodded gravely. "I do, indeed. But my wife, anticipating your move, warned me to keep you safe, and so I am honour bound to save you from your blackest impulses."

She suddenly realised that, while she had been arguing with the captain, he had led her to an upper floor, away from the hustle and bustle.

"Captain Wentworth, I implore you to unhand me and let me go downstairs. I promise that the minute I discover how much debt my betrothed is in, I will steal away into the night, and your oath to your wife will remain unbroken."

Wentworth's grin widened. "I'm afraid to disappoint you, my Lady, but he is not in debt. The reason he comes here is to ... let off some steam."

She blanched. Phillip was letting off steam? Memories of the unrestrained manner in which he had taken her threatened to overwhelm her. "With whom?" She cried.

"Oh, all kinds of men."

"Men?" She was starting to feel very faint indeed.

"I do believe he would have a better ... outlet for his passions if you were to marry him."

"Not a chance," she retorted. "He may do what he pleases w-with men and women. And I will do what I please. Why, I will gamble a bit myself! And flirt with male doxies. Do those exist? Just point me in the general direction and you can go back to smirking and plotting in the shadows in that dastardly fashion of yours."

"Lady Vivian, while you have hit the nail on the head of what I do most of the time in this club, I cannot in all good conscience allow a fierce bluestocking to roam around unescorted, and I am afraid I'm a bit short staffed just now, so you will simply have to wait until Musgrave can take you home."

Her eyes widened in horror. "Please, not him! He cannot know."

"Alas," he said in mock dismay, while dragging her inside a room, "he already does, for I sent him a missive the minute I noticed you skulking around."

"I was hardly skulking!" She protested, pride getting the better of her.

"You were, and I must say you are very good at it indeed. It almost makes me wonder where you got all that practice."

She blushed and suddenly quietened. One more minute alone with him and he would discover her secret. And she did not wish to be in the same room as him when he realised that she was the one who had exposed his wife to gossip in the past.

He plopped her down on a chair before beginning to tie her to it.

"This seems excessive," she reasoned.

"I would never leave so dangerous a foe as you untethered, my Lady," he commented breezily. "Besides, it keeps my knot tying skills from becoming rusty. One of the many excellent lessons the Navy taught me, you see."

He peered down at her. "Now, I entreat you to await Musgrave's arrival and not cause any more trouble, because every second spent watching you is a second I am spending away from my wife's caresses, and you will find that that makes me a very angry man, indeed."

Looking at his menacing persona, she wondered what it would be like to have someone so terrifying and yet so breathtakingly beautiful for a husband. But even in her imagination, all she could see was the angry Phillip, glaring at her for even breathing the same air as a former rakehell.

On second thought, that was not her imagination. She could actually see Phillip striding into view, scowling as he took in Wentworth's proximity to her and her own bound state.

"I say, Wentworth," he said in disgust, "you did not have to tie her up." He looked like his usual annoyed self; she was relieved to note that he was not overflowing with fury like he had been that night. Nor was he radiating hostility towards their host. Perhaps that side to him only came out when he was very drunk.

"He wanted to show off his ability to tie one of those naval knots," Vivian quipped to inject some levity, only to be silenced by Phillip's glower.

With a polite nod to Phillip, and a courteous bow to Vivian, Wentworth swept out of the room.

Phillip did not even notice, so focused was he on Vivian. "What are you wearing?"

"Oh, this? Isn't it wonderful?" Her dress was a deep ruby red, the bodice skimming so low that her nipples were in permanent danger of showing, cinching at her waist and then flowing down. It was seductive and unladylike, and she did not want to think too much about why she had found the dress in her mother's trunk in the first place.

Phillip's gaze raked her, making her shiver. "You come to a place like this, dressed like that, you are looking to invite trouble "

Her heart sang at his mild grumbling. Now this amount of menace she was more than willing to handle. She nodded her chin at Phillip, who was barefooted and shirtless. Beads of sweat glistened on his chest, making her shiver again. "By that logic, Sir Phillip, you are surely looking to be ravished. Dare I ask what you have been up to in this hell?"

A smile threatened to break the stormy clouds on his face, and he bit his lips. Which made her want to bite them too. It was all very unfair.

"I was supposed to be milling with someone right now, not spending time with wilful ladies intent on taking advantage of me."

Punching and brawling. So that was what he did, semi-naked, with other men.

She put on her most unflappable face. "Well, then, untie me so you can get back to using displays of aggression to hide your insecurities about your manliness."

The scowl was back. "It is as though you want me to punish you."

"You, punish someone?" She said, drolly. "Surely not!" She knew she was provoking him, a small part of her wishing he would unleash the entirety of his desire on her again rather than keeping it tightly leashed.

With a growl, he cupped her face in his hands. "It has been hell staying away from you and respecting your wishes, Lady Vivian, and I find myself at the very end of my rope. I suggest you do not try me any further."

Want thrilled through her as she gazed into his hungry eyes. The air crackled between them, threatening to overwhelm her. And then she remembered that she was not supposed to be succumbing to him. She was an independent woman, and she would not let her desires change her mind about her future.

Annoyed that he had cracked her defences, she swung her leg back and moved to hit him again on the knee, but he dodged.

"Can't pull the same move on me every time," he growled.

Her foot stomped on his, making him yelp. "I have more than one move, you chucklehead. Now untie me."

"With pleasure," he snarled. Face stormy, he freed her from her restraints but caught her before she could make her getaway. "You are not going anywhere."

She shrieked as he picked her up and physically tossed her on the bed, his face hardening with cruel sensuality. Her stomach fluttered and made her regret her earlier self-assuredness. She had wanted to goad him into losing control, but she was unprepared for what would happen when he did. He had proven himself capable of hurting her. And yet ... she was quivering for him, aching with need.

"Undress yourself," he ordered, his voice strangled but demanding.

Feeling wanton and a little bit scared, she pushed herself out of bed and started to unbutton herself. The fine silk of her dress caressed her body as she shrugged it off, eventually turning to face Phillip, fully naked, blushing all over her body.

He sucked in his breath loudly. "Something told me you were not wearing a corset under there. You look..." He trailed off.

"Phillip?" She was suddenly unsure and wished desperately to regain control over this moment, exposed as she was to him.

He was still as stone, his verdant eyes taking in every curve and dip of her body. Finally, he spoke. "I will devastate you." His tone was pained and yet reverent, threatening and yet soothing. Then he slowly walked towards her, pinning her with his stare.

Heat bathed her entire body as she awaited his approach. She felt so very wicked around him.

"I will devastate you, Vivian," he repeated, "and you will take all of me. Again, and again. I am going to fuck you until you cannot think straight, fill you with the same haunting need for me that I have for you. And this time, I will not give you a chance to defy me."

A small voice inside of her started to scream that this was a very bad idea. That she would fall in love if she allowed him to take her. That she would lose all of herself in him. It was like someone had thrown cold water in her face. As he advanced upon her, broad chest blocking out the light from the room, she shrank back. "Phillip, no, I cannot risk being with child."

"Too bad," he growled, grasping her waist and grinding her closer to him, "for I have decided that I will breed you. If that is what it takes to get you to marry me and stop this foolish quest for breaking our betrothal, that is what I will do, and gladly."