My Lady Compelled (10 page)

 

Gabriella clutched her arms around herself, standing in the middle of Drummond's bedchamber. She was utterly mortified. Tears, scalded her cheeks as she moved her head from side to side in denial. His son-his son kept pounding in her thoughts just as the words, mistress . . . tramp . . . unworthy kept slamming through her with each distraught breath.

"They were right!" she cried, running to the armoire with no more thought than to escape as she grabbed her mink cloak. Not thinking of anything else in her emotional state except that she could not be Drummond's mistress . . . nor ever face his son again!

A long time later, while she sat shuddering in one of Drummond's coaches, on the road halfway to London, she wondered how she had accomplished so much. How had she managed to escape undetected from Drummond's manor? But, it was all a blur, the last hour or more. She had been so emotional, too emotional, but the pain of believing that she would not be allowed to spend her life loving Drummond, was akin to a mortal wound. It had unnerved her completely, made her hysterical and unthinking about anything but achieving her goal and that goal had been to escape.

So she had ordered a coach brought around saying that she wished to travel to the village and she had made certain that the hood of her mink wrap was pulled low to cover her tear-stained face. However, once at the village, she had imperiously ordered the driver to take her onto London. What could the driver do? He had to obey a lady of the realm. A guest of Drummond's.

Lord Kittridge's whore— Gabriella sniffled, wondering how she could have any tears left, then just as easily, she broke down crying again. When next she woke, having cried herself into literal exhaustion, it was near dark and the driver told her they were close to London, and then he asked where she wished to go.

"Take me to Lyndfall House on Mayfair," Gabriella told the driver, then she settled back on the carriage seat clutching her mink cloak around her. She could not seem to stop shivering. What was she doing?

Gabriella leaned forward again and tapped the roof of the coach, until the driver opened the small trap top. "I have changed my mind driver, please take me to, um – Lord Kittridge's residence here in London." She paused, "Y-Yes– that is where I will go."

Gabriella sat back after the driver closed the door, and she exclaimed, "Oh, what am I doing?" She clutched her hands over her cheeks and shook her head. She could not go to Lyndfall House, Reginald could be there and she could not go to Drummond's because it was not proper and what if some of his family resided there. That thought horrified her as she imagined herself saying, "Oh yes, you must allow me to stay, I am simply Lord Kittridge's mistress and he would wish it."

But, where could she go, Gabriella wondered miserably and now that she was calmer, after being so emotionally hysterical for most of the day, she wondered if she really should have left Drummond in the first place?

"That is just your heart speaking," she exclaimed, but of course it was, because she loved him with all her heart. Perhaps she should try a hotel? Except it would be truly unspeakable for a lady alone . . . unchaperoned, to do such a thing. Only that meant that she had no place at all to go, for it was too dangerous for a woman alone to try to return to Drummond's estate at night. Oh why had she not stopped and thought! Why had she left Drummond at all?

Gabriella was so near to tears again that she had to mentally reproof herself. Tears and over panicked emotions had gotten her into this mess to begin with. Being in love was just so emotional! Nay, having the only son of the man you love catch you ‘en flagrant dlit' was-was. Oh, what Samuel must have seen-!

"No," Gabriella exclaimed. "I will not proceed there again. I cannot bear it!" With determination, Gabriella brought herself around to her predicament and with shaky resolve she tapped the roof of the coach and said, "The Carlton Hotel, driver, take me to the Carlton Hotel."

Gabriella sat back reasoning that her reputation was long past existence, so it no longer mattered where or with whom she resided and tomorrow she decided, she would send a messenger to Drummond. Drummond would then help her, even if she could no longer stay with him, she was certain that he would. Drummond was the only person who truly would help her if only she had realized this earlier.

It really was not as terrible as she envisioned, to acquire a room at the Carlton. She simply had Drummond's driver procure it for her. He had been most kind, even concerned, saying that there was no way on God's green earth he was leaving her and he would be ready with the carriage in the morning to take her wherever she wished to go. His name was Bebington and he did gently suggest that she ought to return to Lord Kittridge's estate in the morning, where he proclaimed she would be much safer.

Bebington escorted her to her room, then he asked that she promise not to go anywhere without him. Gabriella did this faithfully before shutting the door to the room and locking it just as Bebington had shown her how to do. Once inside the room, Gabriella turned to explore because she had never been in a hotel room before. The fact was in twenty-five years of marriage, she had never been to anyplace but the townhouse in London on occasion, very few occasions, and the country estate at Lyndfall.

Gabriella realized immediately that hotel rooms were very lonely places and she found herself yearning for Drummond's warmth, his kisses . . . his lovemaking. She plopped onto the bed wondering what she could do, wondering how she could ever leave Drummond permanently or perhaps she might simply acquire a thicker skin. She certainly was much too sensitive. Or perhaps, Gabriella considered, she simply must develop a thicker skin concerning certain things . . . such as an annulment!

If she truly wished to be with Drummond that was the only way it was going to happen legally. And being barren, she did have the perfect grounds for annulment if only Reginald would agree. Gabriella decided that she must think this through very carefully and calmly. She must think this through until she could speak to Drummond about it. Yes, that was it. She would speak to Drummond about it. Of course it would not solve the problem with Samuel, but she thought perhaps she could face Samuel better if she were sometime in the future going to be Drummond's wife. That is of course, if Drummond wished her to be his wife?

 

 

Gabriella felt nearly human again an hour later, after a long bath and wrapped in one of the Carlton Hotel's fluffy oversized robes, and twice as foolish over what she had done. Then, she walked out of the large ornate bathing chamber, and right into Reginald! Reginald?

"Oh, my god!" Gabriella exclaimed, and she would have stumbled backwards, away from Reginald, had he not grabbed her upper arms. "W-What are you doing here?" Gabriella finished in a stunned shriek.

"Of all the luck," Reginald slurred. He was drunk! "To find me wife waiting for me. Ah-."

Gabriella pushed Reginald hard and he stumbled backward finding the wall, as she edged further away from him. Further into the room. "I am not waiting for you, Reginald! This is my room and I want you gone from here!" Gabriella paused, expelling a nervous breath as she watched Reginald unsuccessfully trying to tug down his atrocious green and yellow striped vest that reeked of perfume. Then, Gabriella cried, "I do not know how or why you are here, Reginald, but you must leave immediately!"

"Oh, no, no," Reginald, slurred, "Tis fate. You want me." He stumbled. "And, came to me. The very same hotel. I found out when I came in."

So that was how, Gabriella thought, wondering at the luck of picking the very same hotel where her husband was staying. He must have mentioned the hotel to her sometime in passing for her to even think of the name and he must be quite serious about the lawyers not allowing him into Lyndfall. Or should she say her home, as obviously now appeared to be the case. However, none of this explained how Reginald had gotten the key to this room! And, the very persistent fact that this seemed ominously reminiscent of the past was enough to give Gabriella a healthy shiver of apprehension-.

Ohno! Reginald was tromping toward her! Gabriella drew away, backing up immediately, only that left her further into the room with no way out.

"Reginald, you must leave," she ordered sharply, holding out her hands as if to ward him away, which she desperately wished to do. "You-You, must not be here w-when Drummond returns!" That was it! A perfect lie, only now Gabriella saw that Reginald was shaking his head with an over bright leer in his eyes.

"He's not here, I asked!" Reginald sneered.

"R-Reginald, you must remember that you do not want me! You sold me . . . remember!" Gabriella tried anxiously, wondering what happened at the Carlton Hotel when a woman screamed, because she was going to this time.

Reginald suddenly lunged at her, and it was then that Gabriella realized how very close the bed was behind her retreat. She landed on it hard with Reginald's heavy and breath-snatching weight on top of her. She tried to catch her breath and did beat on Reginald's shoulders as he levered himself on top of her trying to wedge her knees open!

"I want an annulment!" Gabriella screamed. "An annulment, do you hear me!"

"No!" Reginald snarled, grabbing at her flaying hands, pushing them aside. He clutched the edges of her robe and wrenched the top open. Gabriella screamed then, shrilly and with terror, but it did not stop Reginald. "You are going to give me what you gave Kittridge!" Reginald thundered.

Gabriella struggled, tossing her body from side to side, because her arms were caught helplessly in the robe sleeves. She thought frantically to somehow unbalance Reginald. Anything to get away! She would not let this happen again. She would not!

"No-noo," Gabriella screamed as Reginald used one hand to grope her breast roughly, while he tried to kiss her, which she avoided by frantic twists of her head. Gabriella could feel Reginald fumbling with the buttons of his pants!

"You are my wife! And you will submit!" Reginald snarled in a horrific slobber over her lips.

Gabriella's mind splintered then, it was all happening just as it had twenty-five years before and there was no one to stop Reginald, just as there had been no one before. Except herself! Embolden, angry, and more defiant then she had been in her entire life, Gabriella groped down between their twisting bodies, and then she nearly laughed hysterically when Reginald thought she meant to stroke his cock.

"Owww! Oww!" Reginald suddenly screeched, and then he lunged to the side as Gabriella continued to viciously scratch his balls with her long fingernails. "Owwww, you bitch!"

Gabriella rolled off the other side of the bed, paying no attention to her dishabille, as she grabbed the foot long candlestick from the night stand. The candle fell to the floor as she went after Reginald with a furious screech of her own! She caught Reginald at the end of the bed, where he was still partially bent over, clutching his balls.

"I hate you!" Gabriella screamed, and without an inch of remorse she swung the candlestick underhanded, toppling Reginald over onto the royal blue Aubusson rug where he rolled into a fetal position.

"No no," he groaned.

"Reginald Horatio St. John!" Gabriella screamed as she pulled back from her underhanded swing, readying for another attack. "I will dismember your cock from between your bloody legs if you do not give me an annulment this minute!"

"No-no!" Reginald screeched.

"No!" Gabriella cried shrilly as she started to swing the candlestick forward with all her might only to be stopped by arms grappling her from behind. It was then she heard a masculine voice yelling at her.

"Lady St. John— Madame!"

Gabriella was too incensed to care that it was Drummond's son, Samuel, who grappled her arms from behind. She unwittingly struggled with the effort to strike her husband once more while Reginald lay, curled into a ball, weeping on the floor.

"Let me go, Samuel!" Gabriella huffed in a shriek. "Just let me bloody his balls!"

Samuel only grunted behind her as he lifted her. Her churning feet came up off the ground as he began a stumbling backwards gait. "My lady, you are magnificent, but I cannot allow my father's future wife to do mayhem!"

Drummond's running stride came to a halt at the open door to the room, where he immediately saw a bare-breasted Gabriella struggling to be released from his son's arms about her waist. Samuel tried to cart the lady backwards, from her apparent wish to clobber her husband, yet again.

Drummond's labored breathing strained through his lungs. He had run from the lobby. Hell, he had run a horse near to death from his estate to get here, and while running down the hallway he had heard his charming lady-love screeching about bloodying Lord St. John's balls, of all things. The worry inside him had been wound so tight, he simply could not help it, not after seeing Gabriella was safe. He started to laugh! Nay, he started to roar!

"Father, really," Samuel groaned. "Can't you help me here?"

Drummond bent over at the waist, and laughed harder.

"I will give her the annulment, I swear!" Reginald cried. "Just don't let her damage my balls!"

Drummond nearly choked as his laughing increased.

"Drummond, is that you, Drummond? Are you laughing at me?" Gabriella cried indignantly.

Drummond could not see clearly through the tears filming his eyes as he waved his hand in their general direction. He had missed Samuel at their London house by only a few minutes after the message from Bebington had come and Samuel had left immediately for the Carlton. Samuel managed to get here first without the knowledge that his father was directly behind him riding hell bent to London chasing his lady love. My god he would secure his driver Bebington's retirement by what he would pay him in thanks for leaving word at his London home of where Gabriella was.

"So this is what it is like to be in love," Harrison said appearing beside Drummond. "Reduces fine men to tears, m'lord," he finished with a sublime sneer.

"What," Drummond straightened and tried to catch his breath. "What are you doing here?"

"Following the malefactor of course," Harrison drawled in a rasp with his dark-eyed gaze playing over the scene.

"Of course," Drummond replied regaining most of his composure. "Then you should not mind hauling St. John out of here." Drummond turned his gaze to Gabriella who had fixed her robe snugly back around herself, while she literally glared at her husband who was still whimpering in a bundle on the floor. "And, make certain that he gives you written agreement to the annulment that his wife has battered out of him."

Harrison actually grinned, saying in a whisper, "Dismembered cock . . . did you teach her that, Drummond?"

Drummond casually grabbed his side to keep from laughing again, as he badly stuttered, "No-no, not me." Then, he said in an aside, "I'm not sure he can walk."

They both nearly burst out laughing again, as Harrison murmured, "Protect your crotch, old man."

"Oh god, Harrison," Drummond huffed, trying not to laugh as he watched Harrison go and retrieve St. John with Samuel's help. It was then Gabriella came running up to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Oh, Drummond, I never should have left you!"

 

 

A Wedding Night . . .

 

"You owe me many boons, my lord," Gabriella said with a throaty purr of satisfaction as she eyed her muscular captive. The twin sinewy mounds of Drummond's tight naked buttocks filled her gaze as she decided that her dainty hand could not possibly smack those muscled rumps hard enough to make them sting—certainly she would hurt her hand!

"While I am enthralled to be tied to the bed for your pleasure, kitten, . . . and I might add, the sum total of all boons I owe to you. I still wonder why you would position me face down, wife?"

"Husband, do we have a riding quirt anywhere in this bedchamber?"

Drummond jerked his head to the side to gaze at Gabriella. She was completely not listening to him, he could see, as his mind jolted over the reason his new bride had swindled him into this helpless position. Ye gads, the woman intended to swat his naked-.

Instantly, Drummond's bare buttocks tensed in reaction as he swiveled his head to watch Gabriella searching the room for a. . . . Quirt? Drummond flexed his bound wrists, testing them. No, he was tied securely, just as he had allowed himself to be. Champagne! He had drunk an entire bottle with Gabriella at their wedding dinner— shit!

"Kitten? Hmm, are you going to spank me?" Drummond asked in a rumbling tenor. A man needed to keep his voice commanding in a situation such as this. Didn't he? Hell, he didn't know. He flexed his wrists again.

"Yes, amour," Gabriella called with a muffled sound, because she was rummaging through his clothing closet. "And, do you know, Drummond?" Her head popped out of the closet. "I feel syrupy all over just thinking about it. Is that how you feel when you contemplate spanking me?"

I am doomed, Drummond thought as he dropped his nose, poof, onto the mattress, where he mumbled an incoherent response.

"I thought so," Gabriella called happily from inside the clothing closet, where he could hear her rummaging around and where, devil take him, he knew of three . . . count them, three riding quirts to be had! Drummond began to pray foolishly that she would pick the short brown one, because it looked much less threatening to him than the others. Didn't it?

Then, Drummond started to think over the two times in the months before their marriage this afternoon, when he had playfully spanked his lady-light. However, it was that first time, the one in the very beginning that really worried him. He bounced his forehead off the mattress a couple of times, vowing never— never, to drink champagne again, even if it was with his beautiful and blushing bride-.

"Found it."

Drummond's head jerked upward. Ah, Christ, it was the long black one! He watched Gabriella sauntering closer with a vexing hip swinging motion that was all woman. It did not help one bit that she was completely nude down to her shaven pussy with his glossy passion pearl bouncing off her luscious pink pussy lips. And damnation, Gabriella was fondling the black knobbed riding crop as if it were an impassioned cock! Drummond tensed more from his erectile cock beneath him, than from anything else. Christ, she was beautiful . . . and he recited in his mind, she was his, all his!

Gabriella wondered whether she really ought to complete the actual spanking of her husband's very tight and virile buttocks. He was so exciting tied there to the bed with the roped muscles of his back drawn upward by his arms stretched over his head and with his gaze trapping hers with predatory intent. A gaze that promised retribution once she released him. Gabriella sighed headily . . . sensually as she toyed with the riding quirt, watching Drummond very slowly and very deliberately lick his full bottom lip, while he gazed at her completely shaved loins.

"You are going to reap your revenge on me if I do this, amour, aren't you?"

"Hmm," Drummond murmured. Then, he twisted his arms across each other, allowing him to roll over onto his back. "I was, kitten. However-."

"However, what amour?" she purred, completely transfixed as the quirt fell heedless to the floor and her gaze filled with the sight of Drummond's engorged erection. His cock was massive with a ruddy pink coloring and strident veins swelled along its jutting length. The entire male column bucked in reaction to her climbing up on the bed.

"I have resolved, madame, that I am yours to do with as you please. Just as you are mine to do the same," he replied as he intently watched her tongue dart outward to lick his nipple, then circle it slowly.

Gabriella felt Drummond shiver beneath her tongue as she smiled and murmured against the tight pebble. "Very brave for a man tied by his wrists to my bed."

"Our bed," Drummond puffed in a tenor rumble as Gabriella nipped his taut nipple between her teeth. Her hands spread outward over the hilly muscular slopes of his chest and he finally groaned in excited pleasure.

"Our bed," she murmured in agreement, crawling over him with one leg on each side, to ride her bared loins against his lean rippling belly. The sprinkling of hair on his stomach feathered her sex erotically as she purred a moan, rising upward to brace her hands on the mountains of his breastplate. She could feel his cock's rigidness, poking along the crease of her behind.