Lady Vengeance Read Online Free

Lord Lieutenant of this county.’
     ‘Then why do you not ask me for leave to go?’
    Hesitantly Elinor stepped towards him. He watched her approach, his face impassive.
     ‘Kneel!’
     After a slight pause, she sank to her knees, her head bowed. My lord reached out a hand and, cupping her chin, he tilted her face up towards him. Thurleigh noted the flawless skin, the fresh, innocent face with its straight little nose and soft inviting lips. She reminded him of his Margaret, when she had first become his bride – indeed, even the eyes were very nearly the same colour. The thought did not please him and he pushed it away, but already he felt the first stirring of desire. He looked into the girl’s sea-green eyes: they were full of apprehension and wet with unshed tears.
     ‘Please, my lord, I want to go home,’ her voice caught on a sob.
     The anger that had been growing within him throughout the day boiled over; first the prince’s retreat had put an end to his hopes, and now the girl dared to try her woman’s tricks upon him! Weeping was one of Margaret’s favourite weapons, she used it frequently to get her own way. Realizing his own weakness enraged him still further. Something of his anger showed itself in his countenance and with a small cry Elinor scrambled up and ran to the door, only to find it was locked. Boreland held up the key.
     ‘No escape that way, my pretty, at least not before you have earned it!’
     She banged upon the heavy door with her small fists.
     ‘Help!’ she cried, ‘Bradgate, help me. Let me out!’
     The marquis laughed softly, his anger under control now, ice-cold and pitiless.
     ‘There’s little hope for you from that quarter, young lady. Our host knows better than to cross me.’
     She turned again to face her captors, her back pressed against the unyielding door. Boreland stepped up and laid one large powerful hand upon her shoulder.
     ‘Now then, gentlemen! Who shall be the first to take their pleasure?’
     

Chapter Two
     
Wherein tragedy follows dishonour
     
     Julian Poyntz stepped forward, his chubby face flushed with wine and excitement.
     ‘For Gad, ‘tis an age since I had a virgin,’ he muttered, reaching out one hand to run his short, stubby fingers along the top edge of her bodice.
     She recoiled from his touch and turned aside, only to find another man beside her.
     ‘I cannot recall ever having one!’ laughed George Rowsell. ‘There’s no need to be afraid, chuck, only behave yourself and you will soon be free to go. Oh, but you have spilled your wine over your petticoat. Let me help you remove it.’
     Slowly he unlaced the strings at her breast while Boreland held her arms to her sides to prevent resistance. The stiffened bodice came away and Rowsell tossed it aside, followed by the heavy skirts and the quilted petticoat. She felt another pair of hands around her waist untying the strings that secured the pockets beneath her gown. Then, as she stood in only her lawn shift, the hands explored her body. Boreland released his grip on her arms and moved his large hands up to push the shift from her white shoulders, revealing the small, firm breasts. Watching from one side, Poyntz ran his tongue around his dry lips.
     ‘Let me take her,’ he muttered hoarsely, stepping forward.
     Overcome by fear, Elinor whimpered as hasty fingers drew off her final covering, leaving her naked. With Boreland holding her arms again she could not even cover herself, but merely bowed her head, allowing her hair to fall over her face, the thick tresses covering her breasts. At this point Bishop Furminger jumped to his feet.
     ‘Gentlemen,’ he cried shrilly, ‘this has gone far enough –’
     ‘Hold your tongue,’ snapped Boreland contemptuously. ‘You have done nothing but whine like a whipped cur since you arrived.’ He grinned suddenly, ‘Don’t worry, Furminger, you can take your turn with the rest of us.’
     ‘I want no part of