Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

BENEDICT

I tromp up the steps to my house and kick the dirt off of my Hessian boots before striding into the foyer. The butler greets me, his stern demeanor sending a frisson of relief down my spine. With him at the helm, I know my wife will be safe.

"Any disruptions?"

"Her Grace did inquire after your whereabouts this morning. There was a slight scuffle with the doorman, but nothing unbecoming. She seemed more upset at your absence than her inability to leave. The Duchess of Foxford came to call. They had a quiet game of Vingt-et-un and conversation. Then the Duchess left."

"And after?"

"Nothing to report, Your Grace. The house has been silent the rest of the evening."

"Very good. I shall see to her progress in dressing for dinner then be back down shortly."

"Will you be staying this evening, Your Grace? Or shall we have a carriage waiting like every evening?" There's a hint of disapproval in his voice, but wisely says nothing.

"I haven't decided yet. Have them readied, just in case."

"Very good, Your Grace."

A weary sigh drifts from my lips as I force myself up the stairs. This impasse has to end. If she's not willing to do it, then I'll simply have to find a way. I can't keep sleeping at The Rose and Thorne when there's a perfectly acceptable bed here at home.

Taking in a deep breath, I rap on the door and wait. Nothing. Narrowing my eyes, I knock again. Still nothing.

Dread and anger slip down my spine as I turn the handle and step inside, noting my wife's absence. The bed looks untouched, as if she's not been back since breakfast. I stride over to the window and check the latch. Still closed.

A soft sound pricks my ears, and I whirl around, a snarl on my lips. The poor maid drops the linens in her arms as a startled squeak drifts from her lips.

"F- forgive me, Your Grace. I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Where is she?" I growl.

The maid's forehead furrows for a moment as she thinks. "The last I saw, she was in the drawing room with the Duchess of Foxford. I was hoping to get her prepared for dinner, but you stand here instead of her."

Without saying a word, I storm past her and race down the stairs. My heart squeezes so hard it almost steals my breath. Every room I look in has no trace of her. At this point, I don't know whether to be enraged, worried, or both.

Storming out of the house, I walk around to the back to where a secret path leads out. There, in front of the door, is the servant I set to guard it.

"You there. Has the duchess been out this way."

"No, Your Grace. No one has been here save Cook making sure I have food and water."

I grind my teeth and nod. "Good lad. Continue to keep watch."

"Yes, Your Grace."

My heart pounds in my chest, causing my gut to clench and my head to ache. Where the devil can she be? Again, I look in every room including mine, but nothing. I go back to the base of the stairs and close my eyes. With a deep breath, I drink in the scents around me until I pick up on her unmistakable ginger and spice.

It's still rather heavy in the drawing room, but then it goes out into the hall. Every room has a touch of her scent in it, making my head swim with frustration. Eventually, I come to my study. I hadn't checked it earlier, because what need would she have in there?

As I step in, I know instantly that she was, in fact, in here. But she doesn't seem to be any longer. Anger gives way to terror as I pace about, thinking through all the nooks and crannies of my house. Where is she? Did the mysterious man take her?

My steps lead me around the room until I stop at the bookcase in the back. No. She couldn't be. But as I open it up, I latch onto her scent once more. She's down in my secret dungeon. Grabbing a nearby lamp, I close the door behind me and make my way down.

Lights bounce off the very back end, reassuring me she's in fact probably still there. When I step into the room, however, the visual is not one I expect. Augusta lounges on my spanking bench, her head pointed toward the fireplace so she cannot see me.

Her round bottom wags back and forth as she moves her feet about. Instantly, my cock hardens at the alluring scene. Besides, it's been far too long since I've enjoyed her flesh. And for what? Hang my pride. Nodding, I stride over to her, determined to put an end to this stalemate once and for all.

"Such a pretty picture you make, my willful wife." With a startled gasp, she jumps off and stands before me, as naked as the day she was born, save the necklace I gave her for our wedding. I do my best to tamp down the anger and hurt, knowing these emotions will not serve us well. "You had me very worried about you. I almost didn't think to look in this room. What was your plan if I never came?"

A light blush paints her cheeks as she looks down to the floor. "I'd simply redress and go back to my room until you were home."

"For what reason do you seek me out?" My words come out in a gasp as need courses through my veins.

"I- I needed to speak with you."

"There are far easier ways to seek an audience with me."

She scrunches up her adorable little nose. "When? You're never home anymore. And when you are… you're not here."

With a sigh, I step closer to her and pinch the bridge of my nose. "I know. I-"

"Please," she interrupts. "Let me say this. I need to get it all out." With a shaky breath, she reaches forward and loosens my cravat. "I've tried to tell you things, but they never come out right. Somehow, my words are wrong. My actions are wrong. I am wrong. I don't understand how things became so muddled between us."

Her fingers drift down my shirt, stroking my body through the fabric. Normally, I don't allow a woman to take charge over me, but I'm rather curious to see where this journey takes us. I can always make her stop if I want to. Besides, her hands feel so damned good touching me in that innocent way of hers.

"I don't mean to be naughty. I… I can't seem to stop it. I have needs in me. Needs that have no words or definition. It's as if I cannot grasp the language enough to coax coherency out of it. But I need you to hear me. Truly hear me."

With a hard yank, she tugs on my shirt and lifts it up as best as she can. A soft chuckle drifts from my lips as she struggles to pull it over my head, so I oblige and remove the offending article. Her moan goes straight to my cock, making it pulse as precum wells to my tip.

She burrows her head against my chest, planting kisses along my skin. I shiver under the onslaught of emotions running through me. Unable to keep them all at bay, I grab her shoulders and pull her away from me.

"Is this some trick to get me to bed you? Are those words so difficult to utter?"

"No," she wails, her voice thick. "I… See? We cannot even have a conversation without you jumping to the wrong conclusion. This isn't about my carnal needs. Though, I do hope you'll see reason and finally make me your wife in deed as well as name."

"I suppose that depends entirely on the direction this takes." Dropping my head to rest on hers, I sigh. "You're not the only one who feels so lost. Before you, I thought I knew how to get what I wanted from any woman. You've proven me wrong time and time again."

"Perhaps we can start over after this." She leans in and wraps her arms around me, holding me tight as she peppers me with kisses again.

I groan at the sensation of her lips running over me. How could I have stayed away so long?

"Please don't hate me."

Her words are the last thing that registers before her teeth dig into my skin. A primal roar rips from my throat as I thread my fingers through her hair and grip hard. I can't tell if I aim to pull her away or draw her even closer so she can find a better purchase.

Colors whirl behind my closed eyelids as our souls knit together as one. Her emotions are laid bare to me, showing me a side I couldn't access before. Sorrow, hurt, and pain bombard my brain as I do my best to make sense of what I'm hearing and seeing.

Underneath it all is the deepest yearning I've ever known. It's a bottomless well that seems to run dry, only to fill up when I have my way with her. Wrapping my arms around her tiny body, I clutch her to me. Tears prick my eyes as her fears of Bedlam rise to the surface.

As if I'll ever send her to that horrid place. What she needs is an outlet for her darker urges. Nothing more. And I, the cad that I am, have been denying her. Threads wind their way around us, knitting our hearts and souls together until even our breath, our very hearts, move as one.

Eventually, she pulls away, worry shining in the depths of her eyes. My blood stains her lips, turning them an erotic shade of crimson. With a soft smile, I reach out and slide my thumb across her bottom lip.

"I hear you, little wanton." I murmur, placing my hand over her heart. "I hear you."

"And you're not angry? You do not feel trapped?"

Chuckling, I dab at the wound with my shirt, staunching the bleeding. "No more than you've already ensnared me. Close your eyes, wife. Look deep into your heart."

"Oh," she cries out. "You're not angry!"

"If you ever have a worry, you need only look within. But I do fear that you've leashed yourself to a monster. You've yet to know the depths of my depravity. What I've given you is only the surface."

"Then show me. I want you. All of you."

I glide my fingers down her arm, reveling in the soft feel of her skin. "If we do this… If I let myself…"

She places her hand over the claiming bite resting above my heart. "You do not frighten me, my husband. Your demons are no match for my need."

"We shall see about that. Climb over onto the bed face up."

"Yes, Your Grace."

I bite back a groan as I cup myself. "When I'm playing with you, driving you out of your mind with pleasure and pain, you will now call me Master. Everywhere else, you will call me by my Christian name. Say it. Say Benedict. I need to hear it fall from your lips."

Her eyes darken as she steps forward, sliding down to her knees. "Hurt me, Benedict. I need my Master to drive my lustful insanity away."