Claiming Her Innocence (7 page)

“M’lord…” Betsy began, but Alton held up his hand.

“Leave us,” he said, and the maid instantly obeyed, scurrying from the room.

As Betsy shut the door, Penelope found herself alone with her betrothed.

“It seems that I have been the subject of some scurrilous gossip,” he said. “I want you to tell me what was said, Penelope. Tell me everything. I will answer each charge honestly. And then, my dear, you will answer to me.”

Chapter Seven: Lord Westcott’s Correction

It was all Alton could do to keep control of his own emotions. He knew that Penelope thought his anger was directed at her, but he was even angrier with himself. He was a man who knew women, who prided himself on reading them. But on this night, he’d seriously misjudged a former lover’s desire for vengeance.

He’d danced with Lady Whitfield—an act of social civility—and she’d congratulated him on his pending marriage.

“I hope she knows what she’s getting into,” Lady Whitfield had said as the dance ended, and he’d smiled at the comment, seeing it as just a jibe, for he had not known what his former lover had planned.

Later, when he could spot neither woman in the crowded room, he’d felt a sense of foreboding. When the footman he’d dispatched to find Penelope returned to tell him she’d fled, Alton had expected the worst. Now he pressed his betrothed to tell him what had been said.

“I can’t bring myself to repeat her words.” Penelope had dropped her gaze. “They were too horrible, the things she said—the things she said you made her do.”

“But deep down, you want to know the truth. So ask.”

She closed her eyes, and he could see she was struggling. “Did you… did you put your…” Penelope paused. “She said you put your cock in her mouth. Is it true?”

“I did.”

She audibly gasped.

“Go on,” he said.

“And… please tell me this is not true, for surely such a thing is not possible. She said you put it in her… in her bottom.”

“I did.”

“She said… you took pleasure in inflicting pain.”

“I do,” he said with a small smile.

Penelope gave an anguished little cry. “It’s true then! You’re depraved!” She made to run past him, but he caught her.

“Yes, my love, she spoke the truth of these things, but it is not true that they are depraved.”

“She said she hated it!”

“She lied,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You’re so silly,” he said with a laugh that was not unkind. “You know nothing of what goes on between a man and a woman. There are so many more doorways to pleasure on your body, Penelope. You think sex is just between your legs, when it is really between your ears.” He tapped her gently on the forehead. “So much is in your mind. Once you free it from what you are told is wrong, nothing is forbidden between a man and woman who love each other.”

“Did you love her?” Penelope’s tone was so fierce that Alton was taken aback. Gently he released her arm.

“I thought I did,” he said. “Then one day in town I witnessed the cruelty she’d so carefully hidden from me. She dared laugh at a beggar woman. It incensed me. I was born into wealth, and so was she. When her husband died, she was left with more than enough to live on. She’s never known what it is to want. She never will. I cannot stand to see a man injured, nor a family hungry. I cannot abide the company of someone so dismissive of the plight of others, or someone who fails to appreciate their own fortune by comparison. I certainly would not want that person to bear my children. I told her I would not see her again.”

“So you sent her away?”

“I did. And at first she made light of it. Then she sent letters, often, begging me to reconsider. I would not answer them.”

Penelope walked over to a chair and sat down. “She painted a different picture, one of a woman under duress, seduced, used, degraded, and then thrown away. She said you whipped her bloody, ravished her.”

“The bitter words of a bitter woman, my dear. As for the bedsport we shared, I did spank her. But nothing I did to her was ever under duress. Lady Whitfield is a woman of unusual appetites and extreme passion. In that way we were matched; but it takes more than that, which is why I chose you.”

“But you still don’t understand,” Penelope said. “I may share your compassionate heart, but how can a virgin match you in appetite? The things you admit to doing with her make me ill. I cannot do them!”

“Oh, but you are wrong on both counts.” Alton walked over to her. Even with her tear-tracked face looking up at him and her gown wrinkled from kneeling, she was still beautiful. “I suspect your passion is more than a match for mine. As for those things you find so scandalous, you will not only do them, but you will love them.”

“No.” She stood and backed away. “Those are things bad girls do. I’m a good girl.”

“Are you?” He walked toward her, forcing her to retreat backwards until she was against the wall. “You believed a soulless, bitter woman over the man who loves you. You condemn the pleasures I offer before you even taste them. I think you are a very bad girl.” He took hold of her. “Well, my dear, as I warned you, I am quite stern with bad girls. You will be forgiven, but first you must be corrected.”

Already she was struggling. “I will not be your whore, Alton Westcott!” she cried as he sat down and pulled her over his lap.

He restrained her easily across his broad thighs as he flipped up her skirt, exposing her lacy pantalets. “No,” he said. “You will not be. But you will be my willing wife.”

He pulled down her pantalets, revealing the twin globes of her bottom. Raising his hand, he brought it down hard, causing her to jerk with shock at the painful impact.

Alton kept his eye firmly fixed to her bottom as he began to deliver her second spanking. Her cries were somewhat muffled by the voluminous skirt that had been flipped over her head, but he knew they were genuine, for her little bottom was reddening rapidly. Reaching down, he ripped the pantalets completely away, tipping Penelope forward as he did so. Thrown off balance, his betrothed scrabbled to balance herself on her hands, leaving her legs kicking. The action was by design. Now Alton could see between the kicking legs, could see the bare outer lips of her pussy, parted now to reveal the inner petals, pink and engorged.

It was as he suspected, and now he began to change how he spanked her. The blows were still hard but slower as he alternated the spanks with rubs and squeezes. Penelope’s cries became mixed with distressed little moans and when he dipped one finger between her thighs and brought it up through her dewy slit, she shuddered and cried out.

He had to support her when he raised her to her feet. The dress fell back down to reveal a beautiful mess of the woman who’d been so perfectly coiffed in the ballroom. Her hair had spilled from its shiny pins, her face was a shade pinker than her dress, and her rosebud mouth turned down in the prettiest and most confused little pout. His cock nudged hard against the front of his breeches.

“Pleasure and pain. You just experienced them together. The bitter and the sweet, like the tart cherry and the chocolate.” He stared at her. “Was that really so bad? Don’t say you didn’t enjoy it.” He lifted his fingers, coated now with evidence of her arousal. “Your body doesn’t lie.”

Penelope moaned in shame and then mumbled a half-hearted protest as Alton began to deftly remove her gown.

“Oh, please, my lord,” she said. “We’re not yet married. Do not ravish me before we are wed.”

“I don’t plan to ravish you,” he said. “And I promise that, come morning, your virginity will still be intact. But there are things I will teach you before our wedding night, things you need to know to rid your mind of the poisonous misconceptions Lady Whitfield planted there.” As her gown fell to her feet in a puddle of silk, he lifted her from it and walked to the bed. Sitting down, he cradled her in his lap.

“So she told you that I mixed pleasure and pain, and she hated it. Did you?”

Her flush and lowered lashes told him all he needed to know.

“She told you I put my cock in her mouth. This is true, and an art in which I will school you. But she likely did not tell you that I am as fond of giving as I am receiving in this regard.” He stood, depositing Penelope on the bed. Grasping her by the hips, he pulled her to the edge and parted her legs.

“Oh, no. You mustn’t!” She tried to rise as he knelt between them, but he held her fast as he lowered his head. The first taste of her sweet honeyed musk was intoxicating. At first she was tense in his grasp, but as he dragged his tongue up the slit of her pussy and used the tip to coax her little clit from its hiding place, she cried out, her legs gripping his shoulders and pulling him close to her. A flood of her arousal coated his tongue as he dipped a finger inside, feeling for her virgin barrier. Next he moved that finger up to rim her bottom hole. Alton read the signs of Penelope’s body, waiting until she was at a fever pitch from the sensations. When he sensed she was at the crest of her ecstasy, he caught the little nub of pleasure in his teeth, sucking gently until she screamed and her body went stiff and then softened in his grasp like a doll’s.

“Mmmm.” His tongue made one last pass over the slick folds of flesh and he raised himself up, pulling her limp form up on the bed and lying beside her. After a moment, dark lashes fluttered on pale cheeks and she opened her eyes. Her first words surprised him.

“
La petit mort,
” she said.

“Why, Lady Lennox,” he said. “Wherever did you learn such a term?”

“From the maid.”

Alton threw back his head and laughed, then trailed a finger down her chin. “Hmm. I knew Betsy was a good choice.”

He sat up and looked down at the woman he loved. She was still tightly bound in her boned corset. Turning her over, he began undoing the laces.

“Damn corsets,” he said. “I’d outlaw the things if I didn’t think I’d bring down the wrath of every female in the country.”

When she looked back, puzzled, he winked at her. “No need to be demure now, love.” After a moment, the stays were undone and the halves of the boned garment opened like a shell to reveal a smooth back and a tiny waist.

“Turn over, Penelope,” he said, and was pleased when she slowly obeyed. Her hands were cupped over her breasts. His cock was rock hard now as he watched her play the unwitting coquette. “Move your hands. The man who loves you means to look upon your breasts.”

Slowly she complied. Alton could not help but draw a sharp breath when he saw the breasts he’d been fantasizing about since the maid had described them. They were perfection, these symmetrical globes crowned with large areolas the color of claret, the nipples tight nubs begging to be relaxed by the heat of his mouth.

The confinement of his pants was actually hurting him. Rising to his knees, Alton loosened his breeches, watching Penelope’s eyes grow wide at her first sight of his shaft.

“Do you know what this is called?”

She nodded. “That’s your cock,” she said.

“That’s right,” he said, gripping the base of it. He was pleased to see Penelope studying it, rather than shrinking back in fear.

“You’ll put
that
inside of me?” she asked.

He suppressed a smile. Penelope did not have to be experienced to see that her future husband was well endowed, or to wonder how the thick length of him would fit inside of her.

“May I…” She put a hand out tentatively, and then cried out when his cock bobbed as if seeking to meet her touch. Now Alton could not help but laugh at her wide-eyed expression, or how her hand retreated.

“You may,” he said.

He never imagined that so innocent a touch could feel so erotic. As Penelope’s fingers brushed him, Alton’s balls tightened, and it took all his will not to expel the seed that threatened to surge from within. Her hand slid underneath him, grazing his firm balls and then cradling his cock as if it were a sacred object. She looked up at him in wonder.

“It’s hard,” she said. “But your skin is so soft. And these…” One delicate finger traced the ridge of a vein traversing his length. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he said quietly. “Just as your pussy gets wet and slippery when you are excited, my cock grows hard and long and engorged.”

She looked up, her expression one of a schoolgirl who’s just had an epiphany. “So… my pussy gets wet so your cock will slide in more easily?”

What a vocabulary she was developing. He chuckled at her frankness. “Yes, my pretty one; that is exactly right.”

“Will it hurt me?” she asked.

“There’s a piece of skin inside you, close to the opening of your pussy, that my cock will breach. But I’ve checked, and it is minimal, my dear. I am certain the moment’s sting you’ll experience will be brief. After that, there will be only pleasure.”

“My body aches for you,” she said. “If you wanted to… tonight…”

Oh, how he wanted to. Alton reached down to lift her breasts, flicking first one nipple and then the other with his tongue before gently kissing both perfect peaks. She was ready. He’d felt her arousal, could smell it. His cock was so hard it ached. Waiting was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. But he would do it for her, and he told her so.

“I made a promise,” he said. “I said I would preserve your virginity until our wedding night. What we’ve done tonight was to ready you, to prepare you so you’d not come to my bed in fear. Do you still think my desires depraved? To say ‘yes’ would break my heart, Penelope.” He took her hand and placed it on his muscular chest. “And make no mistake. You have that power. For I love you.”

Her face softened then, glowing with happiness as she smiled up at him. “And I love you,” she said. “I was wrong to believe that woman. She is the depraved one, not you.”

Alton pulled her to him for a kiss. Her lips were soft against his, her body lush. It was with great reluctance that he parted, preparing for the longest two days of his life.

Chapter Eight: Wedding Day

It was the first time Penelope had seen her parents since coming to Westcott Manor. Lord and Lady Lennox had arrived the night before the wedding, and Penelope received them both in the parlor hours before the nuptials were set to take place.