DisobediencebyDesign (26 page)

“Yet it seems you and Royston have equal cause to blackmail.
You should be at a standoff really.”

“Royston is demanding money not only to keep our affair and
your supposed dubious parentage secret but to not perpetuate any more rumors
about Sophie and Mr. Phillips. It is a lot of money but we can certainly afford
it. Your father did something clever with Lord Thuxton and that American canal
investment. We lost nothing while Royston lost virtually everything. He has no
desire to bankrupt his only source of income.”

“Surely his stubbornness with that investment has tarnished
his reputation enough. Is he really worth the bother?”

“If I took Royston down, I would take myself and our family
down right with him. I refuse to do that to you and Sophie. Or to my new
grandchild.”

“It’s a girl.”

Mother swallowed hard. “A girl?”

“Helena.”

“Such a pretty name. Do you think I could see her?”

“Yes of course.”

Arthur offered his arm. They walked casually, Mother’s step
uneven, quickening and slowing in fits and starts, never taking her eyes off
Sophia and Joseph sitting on a bench, fussing over Helena. Joseph grinned and
held the baby in his arms while Sophia trifled with her bonnet and booties, the
perfect picture of domestic bliss.

Joseph saw them approach and said something to Sophia, who
looked up. Shock and love filled her face at the sight of Mother. She ran to
her with open arms.

“Mama, oh Mama, I’m so happy to see you!” She pulled back. “But
why the mourning? What has happened?”

“All is well at home. A woman traveling alone must have a
disguise, my sweet child.” She looked longingly at the baby in Joseph’s arms. “May
I see her?”

“Yes, my lady.”

Mother took Helena, cradling her, gazing down at her, tears
wetting her lashes. “She’s beautiful.” She rocked her gently. “Helena, my
Helena.”

“She is, Mama, she’s yours. She must be part of your life,
if you will allow it.”

Mother’s tears fell to her veil.

“She will be well cared for in New York. Joseph is an
attentive father and a wonderful husband.”

Helena made a gurgling sound and reached for Mother’s veil.

“Lift it, Sophia.”

Sophia lifted the veil. Mother beamed at her granddaughter
and kissed her pudgy cheeks.

“Mama,” Sophia choked. “I’m so sorry I hurt you and Papa. I
never meant to do so. I did not disobey willfully.”

Sophia fumbled in her purse but Arthur was quick with a
handkerchief.

“I wish there was something I could do to show you I’m still
your loving daughter.”

“You’ve done it, Sophie. You’ve given me Helena.” Mother
turned to Joseph. “Make sure she’s happy. Spoil her but not too much.”

Joseph’s lips curved upward. “Yes, my lady.”

“She’s part English, Mr. Phillips. I want her to know that.”

Joseph nodded. “Of course.”

“Your country is in rebellion, Mr. Phillips. I expect you to
take care of my Sophie and my Helena.”

“My parents and the Peels assure me we will be safe, my
lady.”

She turned to Sophia. “You must write me. Send your letters
to Arthur until your father has swallowed his pride.”

“Yes, Mama.”

Mother kissed Helena on the tip of her nose. “And now I must
take my leave.” Her soft goodbye trembled with emotion as she handed Helena
back to Sophia. She squeezed Arthur’s hand. “Don’t mention this to your father.”
She turned and walked away.

Sophia hugged Helena, nuzzling her cheek to cheek. “Arthur,
I’ve hurt her terribly.”

He put his arm around her. “You’ll make up for it. You
already have really. She sees how happy you are.” He poked Helena in the
stomach and she flailed her tiny arms with a squeal. “Time heals all wounds.
You’ll see.”

He could only hope such a sentiment was true.

* * * * *

New York City, 7 May 1861

Sophia burrowed deeper against Joseph’s chest as she cradled
Helena in her arms on their bed. “My Helena, my beautiful Helena, the most
beautiful girl in the world,” she purred, kissing her tiny forehead.

Joseph chuckled. “Every mother says that, don’t they?”

She smiled. “Yes but in my case it’s true.”

He leaned over and kissed Helena’s chubby cheek. “Yes it is.
My Helena is indeed the most beautiful baby in the world because her mother is
the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Oh stop.” Sophia pushed him aside. “You’ll crush her.”

Joseph kissed her hair. “I’d like to be crushing you,” he
murmured. “Perhaps give Helena a brother.” He gently stroked her unbound breast
through her dressing gown.

She shot him a scowl. “Darling—”

But her protest was stopped by his mouth, ravenous from
inattention. His tongue plunged inside her slowly, rhythmically, tempting her.
She gave in only briefly then pulled back.

“I think you should visit a courtesan,” she said blithely.

He chuckled. “I can’t imagine anyone sucking my prick the
way you do, my sweet.”

“We should not be doing this in front of the baby,” she
scolded, unable to stop a smile from spreading on her lips.

“She won’t know.”

“Joseph! Surely you’re joking?”

He laughed softly. “Yes but only partly.” He touched the tip
of his nose to hers. “I miss you. I miss us.” He pecked her lips then settled
back against the headboard, pulling her and Helena alongside. He sighed. “Sophie,”
he said quietly, caressing her back. “I’m scared.”

“Scared?” She looked up at him. “Darling, why?”

“It’s always been just me. I don’t need much. I always got
by. My parents counseled to never rely on anyone but myself. And yet here I am,
relying on the good graces of your brother and the money of a dozen men I
barely know, and I have a wife and child to protect and care for. Just over a
year ago I was a rash youth with some drawings and an idea.”

Sophia sighed. “And I’ve never known such independence as
you have. So I feel a bit of the opposite. New York is simply filled with
possibilities. And it’s exciting to be the wife of a very important
businessman.”

Joseph gave her a little squeeze.

She slid her hand inside his unbuttoned shirt. “When you
were young if you got sick and couldn’t work, your mother took care of you,
right? And your father allowed you to sit at his table, even if you couldn’t
pay him rent that week?”

“Of course. My parents would do what they could.”

“Because that’s what family does… Well that is what they are
supposed to do anyway.” Papa had yet to contact her after the birth of his only
grandchild. “Arthur is your brother now and Helena is his niece. We are a
family. We rely on each other.”

“Yes of course, love.” His voice strained with emotion.

“I’m frightened too. Frightened Papa will never forgive me
for what I’ve done.”

“If what you say about family is true, he will come around.
He’ll see what you did as benefiting the Harwell name.”

Tears spiked her lashes. “I hope so,” she murmured.

A quiet knock on the door roused them.

“Yes?” Sophia called.

Anna poked her head inside the room. “I’m not disturbing you,
am I?”

“No no, Mrs. Peel, come in.” She loved to call Anna by her
married name, especially now she was with child.

She stood before them and held out her hands.”It’s time for
Helena’s bath, Mrs. Phillips.” Anna always reciprocated the honorific.

Joseph took Helena from Sophia and deftly laid her in Anna’s
arms. “And then bed?”

“Yes, Mr. Phillips. I’ll put her to bed.” She cradled Helena
as if she were her own, cooing and kissing her as she left for the bath.

Sophia smiled. Anna was going to be a wonderful mother. “I
wonder if Geoffrey will be as randy as you after Anna has her baby?”

Joseph guffawed. “Oh probably.”

“We should invite him to our bed in those first few weeks,”
she teased.

“You forget, madam, that they will have returned to England
by then,” he deflected.

“That’s a shame, isn’t it?”

He pulled her dressing gown open to reveal a breast, cupping
and weighing its new fullness. “I’m not quite ready to share you again. Perhaps
when our daughter is married.”

“Or you leave me alone when you go out west.”

A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Sophie…”

“Darling, I’m not naive. You’ve said you’ve had lovers in
St. Louis, in San Francisco. I don’t expect you to be a monk when we’re apart.”

“I can try,” he said with a whimper.

She laughed. “Like you tried to stay away from me? It didn’t
take long for you to ravish me at Harwell Hall.”

“Your eagerness was far too seductive.” He bent over her and
took a nipple in his mouth, twisting his tongue over the tender peak.

She melted under the wet warmth. “A man of your lustful
nature needs his outlets.”

“And a woman of your lascivious temperament? I expect you to
do the same.” He sucked harder, swirling her into a state of sultry relaxation.

“Although with the baby I’ll not have the time or the
inclination.”

Joseph lifted his head. “Unless of course it was Geoff.”

“Of course,” she said with a smirk and a lift of a brow.

He thinned his lips. “And how often is it that when I make
love to you, Mrs. Phillips, you’re thinking about Geoffrey Peel?” His rebuke
held a devious edge, a tone he used when he wanted to play.

Sophia’s skin prickled in anticipation. “Does it really matter
whom I fantasize about when I’m in your arms?”

“You are very impertinent, madam. Perhaps you need a lesson
in obedience to your husband.”

With the strength of a stevedore and the nimbleness of a
dancer he scooped her up in his thick arms and turned her over his lap. The
bend at her hips cupped his massive thigh, the heat of his crotch like fire
beneath her breasts. Above her his breathing grew labored as he slowly lifted
the hem of her dressing gown, his fingers tickling the backs of her legs.

Her quim, already moist from his earlier attention to her
breast, grew heavy with lust. It had been too long since the last time. She
hoped he would be harsh.

He pulled the fabric to her waist, exposing her bottom to
the air. She turned her head to see his gaze fall to the sight before him. He
licked his lips audibly as his palm curved over the flesh of her buttocks.

“I seem to recall we made vows to one another.” His touch
was featherlight.

“Yes, sir.”

He lifted his hand. “Do you remember what we said?”

“No, sir.”

His hand came down hard. Sophia flinched before sighing in
relief, her skin tingling, wanting more.

“Let me remind you, then.”

“Please, sir.”

“Matrimony was ordained as a remedy against the sin of
fornication.”

Smack
.

“A wife promises to obey her husband.”

Thwack
. The burn smoldered deliciously.

“To serve him.”

Whack, whack
. He opened her legs a little wider,
peeling apart the lips of her sticky and swollen sex.

“To love and honor him.”

He struck at the base of her buttocks, the blow
reverberating up her flexing cunt.

“To forsake all others.”

Swat
. Her breasts slid over his aroused cock
straining against his trousers.

“And keep thee only unto him.”

Slap
. The hardest yet. Her buttocks would be pink by
now.

He stroked her sore flesh with a light touch, drawing
circles with his fingers, trailing spirals down the backs of her leg, to the
softness between her thighs.

“But I too took such vows.”

He inserted a finger in her wet passage, then two, languidly
pushing in and pulling out.

“To love you.”

She clenched around him with a gasp, surprised at the depths
of her need.

“To honor you.”

He withdrew his hand and grasped her by the hips. In one
movement he lifted her off and positioned himself behind her.

“To comfort you.”

He smoothed his palm against her buttocks then eased her
legs farther apart to briefly tease her clit.

“To forsake all others.”

The bed bounced gently. She turned her head and watched as
he slid off his suspenders and pulled off his shirt then tugged at his fly. He
held her gaze as he popped the buttons one by one with deliberate slowness.

“To keep you all to myself.”

His cock bobbed free of his clothes. He grabbed it and
positioned himself at her entrance.

“With my body I thee worship.”

He slammed inside her, the force shoving her into the
mattress, each thrust more savage than the last. She dipped her back to take
him deeper, his sharp exhale the proof of his approbation. He repositioned,
rising above her to drive into her with rough determination, his hips slapping
her tender buttocks, his stones swinging into her clit. He had never been so
savage, so rough, so deep, so utterly a part of her.

He snaked his hand around to slap her clit before he pressed
the tender nub with a strong finger. She came with abandon, screaming into the
mattress, her cunt squeezing him until he let loose his seed. He growled his
satisfaction and gripped her hips cruelly, steadying her as he jerked every
drop inside.

He bent over her, panting in her ear, his heart pounding
into her back. She pushed him off to lie on the mattress, her legs and butt
sore from his passion.

He stretched beside her and drew her to him, encircling her
in his strong arms. As she nuzzled against him, the fine hairs of his chest
tickled her cheek.

“Joseph,” she said, spreading her fingers on his rippled
torso. “It won’t be like that with the others, will it?”

“No, love, it won’t.” He kissed her hair. “That is what
makes what we have so special. Something so much more than a momentary
pleasure.”

The warmth of love coiled inside her. “As long as we both
shall live.”