The General’s Wife: An American Revolutionary Tale (8 page)

One by one he brought the brews to Lady Strathmore, making sure she had a bit of meat pie between each drink. She might experience a slight fever, he told her. Eventually, she fell asleep amidst tears and sweat. Paul stripped off his jacket and shoes and climbed into bed with her, pulling her to him but unsure for whose comfort the tender act was meant to be.

Chapter Six

“I should be so mad at you.” Redmond paced the length of the second-floor bedroom, his arms tight at his sides, hands balled into fists, restraining the urge to hit something, anything.

“Redmond, love, please understand, I had to do it. They might have hurt you more if I hadn’t given in.” Annabella sat on the edge of the bed wringing her hands. “They could have killed you,” she said hoarsely.

He had spent the better part of the week cursing her, wanting to punish her, playing out scenarios in his head. Exerting his control over her in the coach only served to rile him up. She had given in far too easily to a man who, at the time, was a stranger to her. And now, after she had attempted a tender reunion, they had spent the last half hour arguing about her conduct with the general and the Hessian officers.

He was starving. He couldn’t continue arguing with her on an empty stomach. Besides, finally alone with her, the very first time without the risk of someone walking in on them, he simply could not stay mad at her.

And that just made him mad at himself.

He leaned against the mantel and ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. “Christ, Annabella. What should I think?”

She stroked his back tentatively. “That I love you. That I would do anything for you.”

He softened at her caress.

“Redmond, sweet, I have been sick with worry for the last week. And now you’re here with me. Please forgive whatever it is I have done. I just want to be with you right now.”

His stomach rumbled.

She giggled. “I’m hungry, too. Is there anything to eat?”

“We stocked food in an old kitchen downstairs.” He turned to face her. She looked up at him, earnestness mixed with trepidation. He lifted her chin and pecked her lips. “C’mon.”

They had never shared a meal together, and the simple act of eating cold pies and cider inspired talk of living a normal life as man and wife. She flirted and giggled and made him laugh, and he quickly forgot his anger. But he could not forget why they were there in the first place. She didn’t ask. She probably thought she had been kidnapped just to be with him.

Annabella pushed back from the table and gazed at him with a tilt of her head and a raised brow. “Redmond,” she said, licking her lips. “We’ve never been alone like this before. Shouldn’t we make the most of it?”

She was right, and anything he had to say to her could wait for morning. He smiled a devious smile. “Let’s go back upstairs,” he said, taking her hand.

The fire had died in the bedroom, but it was still cozy. He threw another log on the grate and pulled up an old wingback by the hearth. He sat down.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded.

Annabella hesitated and shot him a questioning look.

“Perhaps you did not hear the first time,” he growled. “Take off your clothes, woman.”

She sucked in a lip and proceeded to untie her kerchief, then pulled it off languidly, holding his gaze until his eyes dipped to her bared cleavage.

He swallowed hard, waiting for the next bit of clothing to come off.

But she stood there with a smirk, rebelling against his imperious tone.

Shit.
His cock stirred. He would have to let her have her little game. He toyed with the buttons of his waistcoat.

It worked.

She began to untie the laces of her short fitted jacket, and with each tug, he freed one of his own fastenings. She slowed her pace and he stopped. Her garment was far more complicated. He couldn’t let her win.

Her jacket undone, Annabella turned her back to him. She lifted the jacket over her head, then twisted to look over her shoulder. His waistcoat was now completely unbuttoned, and he gripped the arms of the chair to keep himself from molesting the little minx.

She smiled and turned back to face him, clutching her jacket to her chest. Slowly, she pulled the garment away from her body, then dangled it out in front of her before dropping it on the floor.

Redmond licked his lips and stared at the tops of her breasts, billowing out from beneath her stays, yet still covered by her shift. She smiled provocatively as her hands went behind her to worry the button at the waistband of her quilted over-petticoat. He locked her gaze with his as he unfastened the three buttons at the waistband of his breeches, and when she pushed her heavy skirt over her hips and down to the floor, he proceeded to the buttons of his fall front.

She stepped out of her skirt and kicked the garment along the wooden boards.

She drew her hands from the top of her stays down the front of her body to land at the waist of her woolen under-petticoat. She grasped the linen tie. Redmond readied his fingers at the buttons of his drawers, then hesitated. He lifted a brow at her. She would have to go first.

She scowled, then pulled the end of the bow and untied the string. With a sway in her hips, she shuffled the garment down, then once again stepped out and pushed the skirt across the floor.

She didn’t have much else to take off. Behind her, the firelight danced, leaving the front in shadow. His cock complained.

She loosened the top of her shift, exposing a little bit more of her pale fleshy bosom. She strolled seductively over to him.

He stared up at her as she nudged open his thighs to stand between his legs. She lifted her left foot onto the worn padded arm of his chair. Redmond reached out to touch her leg, now so close within his grasp. She stilled his hand, then smiled as he instead freed his erect cock from his drawers and began stroking himself lazily.

Annabella unbuckled her shoe and returned her foot to the floor, then switched legs to unbuckle the other. She stepped backwards and slipped off both shoes, wiggling her stocking-covered toes.

Once again she turned her back to him and reached around to unlace her stays, untying and then loosening the strings at a maddeningly slow pace. She pulled the stiff garment over her head and held it out at arm’s length before dropping it to the floor. It made a soft thud when it landed.

Redmond had never seen her in such a state of undress. The flickering light cast by the fire and candles cast shadows across her body, concealing and revealing her form under the sheer cotton shift. She swayed her hips in a soft undulating movement while languorously gathering up the fabric along her sides as if she were going to lift the final piece of clothing off her body. It took every ounce of self-control to remain seated and not throw her to the floor and slam inside her cunt.

She let go of her shift and looked back at him, biting her lower lip.

“You’re a saucy one, aren’t you?” he said. “You’re the devil’s mistress. Come here.” He motioned for her to resume her position between his legs.

“No, love,” she said as she sauntered over to him. “I’m
your
woman.” She looked down at him, beaming. “Yours.”

He reached up and untied the strings at her sleeves and loosened the openings, tickling the skin of her arms. He pulled the drawstring at her neckline, untying the bow. He took a sleeve in each of his hands and tugged the shift off one shoulder, then the other. With a final yank the filmy garment fell to the floor and pooled at her feet.

His eyes drifted up and down her body, taking in every soft curve. “Damnation,” he whispered reverently. “You’re a sight to behold.”

Her generous white bosoms capped by tender rosy peaks jutted forth buoyantly as if floating on air. Redmond cupped a hand on the side of each breast, taking time to brush his thumbs against her aroused nipples as he weighed the demi-globes in his palms. He traced his hands down her figure, curving in where her body nipped in a little at the waist, then out at the swelling of her belly. He stopped at her fleshy hips, caressed them gently, then glided around to grab her plump buttocks. He kneaded the luscious pillowy cheeks before drawing his hands down the backs of her thighs, eliciting a sighing mewl. He stopped at her garters and fumbled to untie them. “I want to see all of you,” he said, pushing down her stockings.

Annabella stepped back slightly and one by one stripped off the last of her clothing, revealing her shapely calves. She now stood before him utterly nude. He gawked, stunned, and grabbed his erection. With a glimmer of wickedness in her eyes, she posed this way and that, her hands playfully hiding bits of flesh or presenting her attributes for his approval. Redmond laughed in delight while stroking his engorged prick.

“Come to me. Be with me.” He held out a hand.

Annabella touched his fingers before kneeling down between his legs. Her hands rubbed his thighs, still confined in tight breeches, and reached around underneath to cup his buttocks. She dipped her head and licked his cock teasingly before gently taking him into her mouth.

Redmond groaned. “Oh, God, woman.” He reveled in the familiar feeling, heightening it by stroking her nude shoulders and back. He pushed his hips against her mouth. She quickened her pace. He was in heaven, he was…

He grabbed her hair to pull her off him, tearing her cap off in the process. “No! Damn it! Don’t make me spend yet.” He nodded toward the bed. “We have a bed, love, a proper bed with a mattress and sheets. I want to make love to you there. And I want to finally be able to wake up next to you in the morning.”

Annabella took his hand and he stood up. She giggled at his undone breeches and drawers.

“Damn,” he said. He had no patience to strip slowly for his beloved and tore off his clothes, tossing jacket, waistcoat, cravat, shirt—everything in a pile on the floor. In a minute he stood stark naked before her.

Annabella watched, stunned, her eyes wide and mouth open. “I … I never knew you had so much hair.” She swallowed. “You’re perfect.”

In two steps Redmond crossed the floor, picked her up amidst her joyous squeals, and threw her on the bed. For a second he hovered over her, his prick poised at her entrance, aching to be inside her.

“You liked it when he fucked you in the arse, didn’t you?”

She stared at him, a mixture of confusion and desire in her eyes. Tears formed on her lashes.

Damn.
That was not the way to put it. “Love,” he began gently, “if I poke you in the arse, I can spend inside you.” He pecked her nose. “Darling, I don’t want to have to pull out.”

“Then don’t. I want to make love to you the proper way, in a proper bed.” She held his face in her hands, stroking his cheeks. “Spend inside me. Please, Redmond. I want you to. I want your child.”

In an instant he was inside her, plunging deep, a man possessed. He grunted and growled, and she laughed and moaned. He came too soon, she too often. Minutes later he was up her again, this time taking it more slowly.

They made love the entire night, tumbling like newlyweds. Alone in a vacant house with no one around, they made all the damn noise they wanted. When exhaustion finally descended in the hours after midnight, Redmond wrapped his arms around his Annabella, protecting her as they slept.

He would tell her what she needed to do in the morning.

* * * * *

Clara awoke with a start. She had been dreaming the most delicious dream. Mr. Bridgers was lying with her on the bed, holding her, caressing her breasts, whispering naughty words in her ear. She stretched against him with a moaning sigh.

But something about it wasn’t just a dream.

She was actually curled up against him as he leaned against the headboard. Even more indecently, she was lying between his legs. She stiffened.

“You’re awake,” he said, stroking her hair lightly.

“Mr. Bridgers?” She sat up, clutching the covers around her. “What is going on?”

He chuckled and got off the bed. He was fully clothed except for his jacket and shoes, although his waistcoat was unbuttoned, his cravat loosened, and he needed a shave. “Don’t worry. I did not take advantage of the situation. But you were crying quite a bit and I thought you could use some comfort.” He looked at her more seriously. “I had to change the towels several times over the last two days.”

“Two days!”

“You’ve had a more serious fever than I expected,” he said quietly. “I think, though, it may be a few more days before the child is finally gone.”

Her son. A twinge of grief passed through her, but she wasn’t sure if it was because she had lost the general’s son or because it would be that much longer before she could return home to England.

“I’m sorry, my lady. Please accept my condolences.”

Three rhythmic raps sounded on the door.

“Ah. That’s Ethan with some supplies.”

Mr. Bridgers went to the door to retrieve a crate. She recognized Ethan from having seen him in Chesterton. The boy did not come in, but nodded to Clara through the window before he left.

“I think you will find yourself quite hungry in a short while,” Mr. Bridgers said as he placed the crate on the table. “I’ll make some stew for today.”

She glanced around the space and saw her box against the wall opposite the bed, seemingly so far away. There was no privacy at all in the one-room building. She couldn’t see getting up to retrieve her clothes as she was only in her shift. Not only that, the garment was disgustingly filthy, reflecting the state of her own skin covered in dried blood and sweat. She would have to take a bath.

“Mr. Bridgers?”

He looked up from chopping vegetables on the center table. “Yes, my lady?”

“Would it be at all possible for me to have a bath?”

He seemed a little taken aback by the question.

“Or, perhaps, I could just have some warm water and a sponge and towel?” Clara had never actually had a bath without the assistance of a maid, but she was sure she knew how it must be done.

Mr. Bridgers glanced at the wooden laundry bucket at the bedside filled with bloody towels. “There’s no bathing tub, my lady. You’ll have to take a sponge bath. I’ll go pump some water and heat it up. It will be a few moments.”