Lady Vengeance Read Online Free Page A

this!’
     ‘Growing squeamish, Bishop?’ jeered Poyntz.
     ‘Perhaps you would object less if we could find you a pretty young man for your amusement,’ drawled the marquis, enjoying the bishop’s discomfiture, but as the clergyman could not be drawn to say more, my lord refilled his glass, then rose and carried it over to the girl.
     ‘Perhaps, ma’am, you would care for another drink.’ He held the glass to her lips.
     The blood red wine ran down her white body as she struggled against her tormentors, and as the marquis stepped away she spat at him in one final, desperate gesture of defiance. Thurleigh’s face darkened at the insult and he spoke with a deadly calm.
     ‘Take her to the bed.’
     Boreland swept her up and bore her to the large canopied bed, tossing her down upon the coverlet. At a signal from Lord Thurleigh he reluctantly withdrew and the marquis drew the hangings across one side of the bed, screening himself and the girl from the others. Unhurriedly he started to undress.
     ‘Now Elinor. You are a sensible girl. You know you cannot quit this room until I give you leave to do so.’
     ‘Oh sir, if you have a daughter, pray consider if you would wish her to suffer in this manner!’ She raised herself up on one elbow, her face blotched with tears.
     My lord knelt upon the bed, still clad in his shirt and breeches. There were no candles at that end of the room but even in the gloom she saw once again the cold hatred in his face, and instinctively drew away.
     ‘I have no daughter, thus such arguments are wasted upon me.’ His eyes ran over her body and he added softly, ‘but I did have a young bride, a long time ago, who looked very much as you do now…’
     ‘Then for her sake, don’t hurt me, sir! Pray let me go!’
     The marquis laughed bitterly. ‘For her sake -! No, by God. ‘Tis for her sake you are here!’
     His fingers traced the red wine that had spilled down over her body. There were no tears now: the girl lay rigid, waiting her fate – only the green eyes burned in the white face, their terror evident even in the near-darkness.
     ‘No-’ Elinor suddenly came to life, struggling to free herself. Reason had forsaken her, and she fought wildly, her fingers tearing at his lace cravat as she tried in vain to keep him away. At first he laughed, enjoying what he knew to be an unequal struggle, but at last, tired of the game, he struck her hard across the face. With a cry she fell back and he knelt above her, breathing hard, his desire fuelled by her spirited defence. But mixed with the desire was another, less pleasurable sensation. The ulcers and open sores in his groin were so painful he knew they would prevent his taking the girl, even as he looked down at her he felt his lust receding and disgust at the thought of his own pox-ridden member caused him to pull away. He gathered up his clothes and with a last look at the semi-conscious figure on the bed he walked away to the fire to finish dressing.
     ‘Are you done already, my lord?’ Boreland’s ribald laughter did not improve his humour. ‘I had expected to be broaching another bottle before we saw you again!’
     The marquis gave a thin smile.
     ‘A virgin may give you brief comfort, Boreland, but one needs a woman for true pleasure.’ He glanced at the men around the fire, deciding which one would be least likely to notice his failure. ‘Rowsell, why don’t you try your luck with our little prize?’
     The young man looked at him blankly while his wine sodden brain tried to make sense of the words. He rose unsteadily to his feet.
     ‘Aye, my lord, I will!’
     He found the girl motionless upon the bed, her eyes closed and her lips moving silently as if in prayer. The sight of her pale body excited him and he fumbled with the buttons of his breeches. Not waiting to remove his clothes he straddled her, anxious to relieve the urgency of his desire. She lay unprotesting as he thrust into her, pushing and