London 1878
Aristocracy served William well. His family’s wealth had accumulated to an obscene amount over the past century, securing him and all his would-be offspring without the need to want for anything. Perhaps it was this monetary security that drove William into a life of debauchery. He was twenty eight years old, incredibly handsome, took to drink nightly, and absolutely adored his women; women, which weren’t really his though he marked them almost nightly with his sensuality. It didn’t matter who she was, what she was after, how flirtatious or handsome the woman, as long as she was willing to spend a night with him. He grew bored of them, having mostly been women inexperienced with the likes of William “Spike” Hawthorne and so the variety of women increased as he grew more and more addicted to the sinful desires that burned within him.
It was expected among such men. Many of the Lords and Dukes of aristocracy kept mistresses, it was no secret. Spike, however, thought the idea of a single woman was preposterous. Why take one woman who probably wouldn’t satisfy you anyway, suffering a life of the same old same old when you could conquer the world of the flesh? Who needed that when you were as charming and desirable as Spike? His mother, Anne Hawthorne, had other ideas, however. She wanted grandchildren as Spike was her only heir. She begged him daily to take a wife and he would humor her with his charming smiles.
“One day, perhaps, mum,” he would say as he took her hand in his. “I fear I must marry for love,” he lied. It worked every time and he almost felt guilty for how gullible his dear old mother was. If she had any idea what he did in the evenings, she’d die of shock. In fact, just the previous night he’d convinced a whore to allow him to tie her up so he could have his wicked ways with her. When she cried, he grew angry and untied her instantly. Why agree to do something if you were so horribly afraid? He never wanted to force his women to do what he wanted…there was no pleasure in that. No, William had yet to find a willing woman to allow him to teach them the pleasures of the flesh. Oh, how he worshipped them! The curve of their breast as it heaved above the collar of their dress, the curling of their lips as they took him deep within their mouths, the ruffles of their stockings around their thigh, the scent of their most secret place, their eyes as they told him their story with only a look, every facet of a woman was to be treasured, pleasured and claimed. This day in age made it particularly difficult to satiate himself as most women, even the whores of London, were wary of the things he so desired.
And the ones who agreed were a far cry from beautiful. They’d been broken, their eyes were dead, lacking that sparkle that he so adored in a pretty young woman and they did whatever was asked of them, simply because they were supposed to. If he was desperate, these were the women he’d visit, though he felt so dirty afterward that he’d go for a fortnight without any pleasure as a means to punish him for divulging in something so wicked. Such was the vicious cycle he’d found himself in.
William wasn’t always this way. In fact, he was well educated, a socialite among the families that lived in London, he was an avid poet and a simpering nancy boy if you were to ask him about it now. He longed for love, for his heart to be filled with the requited love of a woman, and had absolutely no idea what the sins of the flesh entailed. Of course he had an inkling, having been an educated man, but as a virgin, he was absolutely clueless; until Lady Drusilla taught him quite a lesson about sin. He worshipped her, thought her to be a dark angel, and oh how his heart longed to wed her. He’d been such a prat then that he was absolutely clueless to the goings on at her estate. She’d had men time and time again in her bed, having been too wealthy to care enough to wed. William thought he was the only man for her, as she told him on every visit. He fell for her charms and allowed her to take him to her bedchambers one night after he proposed. She never gave her reply and simply stated, “Come show me how much you love me, my William.”
After several minutes of blushing and stammering, William was naked before her and she dropped to her knees, sucking his cock fervently. He’d been so surprised by the wonderful feeling that he never stopped to think that no Lady would ever debase herself in such a way. She ignited something deep within him with every stroke her hand made along his shaft and he was born anew. The things she allowed him to do after that would make a pirate blush and William was positive that they would spend an eternity together doing those very things…as man and wife. However, in the morning hour when William awoke, he rolled over to hold his love in his arms. She abruptly kicked him off the bed and he collapsed in a pile of sheets looking pained and confused. She laughed at him and told him under no circumstances would she ever love a whining fool like William.
He knew he’d been used, though the pain of losing Drusilla was far worse than knowing he’d been made a fool of. She continued to tell him every detail of the past few weeks, how many men she’d slept with, how all of them were better equipped than he, that he was worthless in bed and how did he ever convince himself that he’d be any more than a laughingstock among their class? He hurriedly dressed, fighting off the well of tears that wanted to burst forth and ran from her bed chambers, hearing her wicked laughter along the way. He angrily wiped his mouth, suddenly hating the taste of her that lingered on his lips and tongue, stomping towards his horse. In that moment, he was through with love. No one would make a fool of him ever again. They were all liars, manipulative bitches, and not worth his heart. He’d closed it forever and made due with a life of decadence. Through decadence, a woman was in her prime. He’d donned the nick-name ‘Spike’ for himself, as Drusilla had driven a spike through his heart, rendering it useless for any woman ever again. No woman would ever utter the name “William” in the throes of passion. It was a means to detach from his former self and as Spike, he found the confidence to bed woman after woman almost every night.
But if Spike was honest with himself, his nightly affairs were fortuitous of his longing for affection. He convinced himself that these women were his ‘toys’ and ‘playthings’, but he remembered every single one of them in great detail. They were more than that, though he wouldn’t allow himself the risk to express what he most secretly desired.
On this particular night, Spike finished dressing after a thorough bath and headed downstairs, ready for his evening to play out as it did every night. However, he was stopped abruptly by his father who beckoned him to join him for a brandy in the library.
“Father, I must be on my way,” he pleaded.
Kenneth Hawthorne nodded knowingly, yet bid him to enter. Reluctantly, Spike joined his father on the couch and waited for what was so important that he had to be interrupted.
“Son,” he said, swirling his glass about and frowned. “This…life of yours is quite worrisome.”
“Father, I’m careful. Besides,” he said with a smirk, though the gesture never convinced his father, “how can I resist the ladies when they’re so willing?”
Kenneth pursed his lips and eyed his son. “You are my only son. Your uncle has yet to increase his name and I am getting on in years.”
“Father…”
”Listen to me, William. I understand your love of women and I cannot disagree with you there. But soon you will be old and your charms won’t be as cunning as they are now. I think it time to take a wife.”
“I don’t want to marry some high society chit! I don’t want to marry anyone!”
“William! You are acting like a child!” he scolded, not wasting any time with this line of rhetoric. “I am your father and you will do as I say! I don’t want my family line to end with the likes of you! What has happened in these past few years that you’ve grown so cold and distant? You drink far too much for your age, you’re never at home, you’ve hardly attended any social gathering in months and it must stop now.”
“I can’t stand those buffoons and I’ve stated as much. I won’t play party to their insipid conversations that serve no other purpose but to gossip about one another, or to find benefit from another’s status. I’d much rather have a good drink and a good woman and live out the rest of my years with pleasure.”
Kenneth shook his head and dragged a hand lazily down his cheek. “Your mother insists.”
“Oh, so that’s the real problem, isn’t it? She’s got you wrapped around her finger and convinced you to turn me on the straight and narrow, right?”
“Partly,” Kenneth smiled. “However, she is right. I knew you would protest which is why I already arranged a visit with the Summers’ tomorrow.”
“You what?!”
“They have set up estate from Leicester last month and are anxious to meet the London families. I hear that Hank Summers has three daughters, all of which are quite fetching. We will ride on the morrow and meet them for tea. It is only a social call, William, though I have spoken with Lord Summers about arranging a marriage.”
“This is incredible!” he screamed, rising from his seat and pacing the room. “You didn’t even ask me about this!”
“I don’t have to ask you, I am your father! Be lucky that I didn’t drag you by the ears without preparing you first!”
“I won’t go. I will not go!”
“Yes you will! If you want coin and freedom, my son, you will accompany me on this excursion.”
William knew he’d lost the battle. Without coin, he would have no way to bed a woman or to drink with his mates. He’d definitely be a laughingstock then. “Fine,” he said in submission. “But I am not promising that anything will happen. We’ll go to this tea of yours and then I’m done!”
“Very well, William.” Kenneth smiled as his son left the library. While William thought himself quite the playboy, he knew that deep down, he was a hopeless romantic. Kenneth had met the Summers’ girls only days before and they were all far more beautiful than most of the Ladies of London. William would be hard put to deny any of them his hand in marriage. Oh yes, tomorrow would indeed be very interesting.
~*~*~
“No! I will not marry him!”
“Elizabeth,” Hank pleaded, having a headache from the past hour of screaming fits his daughters imposed upon him. “I did not say that you had to marry the boy! There are three of you that he may choose from.”
“Oh, well isn’t that lovely?” She yelled, violently shoving her hands into her gloves. “Why don’t you just line us up next to the livestock and that way he can have a two for one!”
“Elizabeth! Why are you so angry? Nothing has happened yet!”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and wagged a finger in her father’s face. “Oh no you don’t! I heard you speaking with mother about it! I’m his intended, am I not?”
Hank sighed. “Why must you eavesdrop on every conversation in this house?”
“Because I’m bored out of my mind, that’s why! Ever since we’ve arrived in London you haven’t allowed Tara, Dawn or I to leave this house! I’m going mad in this room and now you tell me I’m to be offed into marriage!”
Hank chuckled. “You speak as if it’s death!”
“It is death! Men don’t care about their wives! They just want us to make babies and run the household and look pretty for when they actually decide to bring us out into the light like we’re dirty little secrets while they gallivant with their stupid male friends and screw their whores!”
“Elizabeth!” Hank said, slamming his fist on the arm of his chair. “Bite your tongue! You are a lady and you will not speak that way!”
“Tell me that it isn’t the truth! Tell me that I’m wrong!”
Hank groaned and screwed his eyes shut. Elizabeth was going to be the death of him. She was the most handsome of his three daughters and yet she managed to scare every man away that attempted to woo her. She was incredibly stubborn, his Elizabeth. It was bad enough that Hank was cursed with three daughters but luckily, he was wealthy enough to offer a handsome dowry to any takers. If only Elizabeth would pull her head out of the clouds and understand the importance of marriage, he’d have one less headache to contend with.
Her father’s silence was all the answer she needed. “That’s exactly what I thought,” she said with a huff and slammed her riding cap on her head, stomping out of the room.
“Where are you going at this hour?” Hank asked in a tone that belied how exhausted he was.
“Away! I’m going away from this place! I can’t stand it any more!”
“You will not step foot out of this house, young lady!”
“Watch me!” With that, she ran out of the house in a very unladylike fashion and marched to the stables. She’d learned to ride years ago and Hank bought her her very own mare that she took to riding as often as possible. She insisted that Mark, the stable caretaker, teach her how to ride on a man’s saddle. He’d protested that no lady rode a horse that way, but being the stubborn woman that she was, she won that conversation. Side-saddle seemed so boring to Elizabeth and she never cared for appearances anyhow. She was scolded time and time again by her mother for this, as her skirts were bunched in an indecent fashion, showing her ankles. Again, Elizabeth won those arguments. She was to be free, exalted among the sins of man by allowing her inner spirit to blossom with every whim that tickled her fancy. She learned fencing, and was quite skilled in the art. She climbed trees, she went swimming in ponds, and she rarely wore her hair in the latest fashion as she was quite vain about her long golden tresses, though she’d never admit to that being the reason why. Elizabeth went against the social grain in every way she could, finding absolute joy in ruffling the feathers of high society hens. It was lucky for her that her family was so rich or else she might have been taught a very unfortunate lesson.
She side stepped Mark who was blocking her path to the stables and shot her hand in the air. “If you even think of stopping me, Mark…so help you I will slap your face!”
Mark chuckled and shook his head. There was no reason to fight her when she made up her mind. He saddled her horse for her and she angrily hopped up onto it, kicking her heels into the stirrups which caused her horse to take off immediately. She had no idea where she was going and it didn’t matter as long as she was away from that horrible house. Thunder and lightning crackled against the night sky and she felt a few rain drops splatter against her chest.
“Oh, what have I gotten into now?”
She continued to gallop wildly down the road, even as the rain began to fall in sheets. She didn’t care. In fact, Elizabeth felt baptized in the rain, freedom unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She smiled brightly and slowed her horse to a trot just to enjoy the water bathing her.
~*~*~
Spike was good and sloshed. He and his best mate, Liam Angelus, had taken to a night of cards at the Black Greyhound, a venue that allowed the Dukes and Lords an evening of male shenanigans. He’d told his friend the bad news, how he was to be arranged in marriage and so the drinking began. As the night went on, Spike tried to sober up by eating bread and sausages, though it only seemed to clear the fog by a mere fraction. Liam was already passed out in his chair and so Spike staggered towards his carriage to take him back home. It was a long trip and hopefully a bit of kip would sober him up enough in case his father was waiting for him when he returned. He doubted it, but one could never be too careful around that bastard. As soon as he sat in the back seat of the carriage, he fell asleep.
~*~*~
Elizabeth had been riding for hours it seemed and she felt a slight chill from the rain water. It was fun for a while but now she was just miserable. And miserably lost. Her horse wasn’t faring as well either and was proving difficult to steer through the thick sheets of rain.
“Come on, darling,” she begged, “take us home!”
But the stupid horse wouldn’t move over a saunter. She was about to dismount and drag the beast down the road when she saw a carriage off in the distance, heading in her direction. She debated if she should ask them for help and suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck a tree just inches from where she sat, spooking the horse. It rose up on its hind legs and she struggled to hang on as it took off at an alarming pace, zigzagging in no apparent direction. She dug into the stirrups and pulled on the reigns trying to steady it when a tree fell in their path and the horse bucked her right off its back, sending her flying high in the air and crashing against a tree. And then darkness fell.
~*~*~
“Master William! We must stop!”
“Huh?” he answered, blinking his eyes open from his drunken haze. The carriage halted and Spike peered out the flap on the side of the carriage to see what all the commotion was. His coachmen were yelling something and scurrying about, though he couldn’t make it out through the heavy rain. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head when the carriage door flew open. John, his head coachmen was carrying the drenched body of a woman who was apparently unconscious.
“She’s fallen from her horse, sir. We must take her to safety!”
“What’s all this?” William asked, still slightly foggy.
“She’s badly injured, sir. We must take her to the estate. We’ve tried securing her horse but it’s might frightened, Master. We can’t risk trying to tame it.”
“Very well,” he managed to say and rubbed his eyes. “Put her in here, then.”
John carefully laid the petite blonde on the backseat. She ungracefully slumped to the side, her head landing in William’s lap. In mere seconds, the carriage was moving again and William stared down at his newest companion. She was absolutely gorgeous, that much was obvious. Her blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders, though it was soaking wet, and her full lips formed a pout that was so tempting, he almost leaned forward to suck them into his mouth. He wondered what color her eyes were. As his gaze traveled the length of her body, they paused over her chest. Her shift that stuck out above the collar of her dress exposed the hardening of her nipples through the drenched fabric. His mouth watered, having never seen something so erotic in his entire life. The state of her dress informed William that she was indeed of high status and probably unwed due to her young age. Shaking his head to rid himself of his dirty thoughts, he placated himself by stroking her forehead lovingly, wondering who this creature could be. He hoped she wasn’t unconscious long and hoped even more that she was indeed, unattached.
TBC