Becoming Mrs. Benedict Page 6

  When I awoke to touching her, I at first assumed that I, too, had violated the woman. But the moment she begged and pleaded for me to continue, I soon realized it was by her own wishes—she was using me to pleasure herself.

  My cock still aches, thick and harder than a fucking rock, in my trousers. It was my desire to spread her open and show her exactly how good I could make her feel with my tongue. However, I would have been no better than the predator who stole her from her bedroom.

  I will not harm the woman.

  And I will not allow her to harm herself.

  After a quick, cold bath and having dressed, I stalk back toward the room I left her in. Then I rap on the door and wait for her to answer.

  “Ella, are you dressed?”

  Silence.

  For a moment, I worry that someone has taken her again. Not wasting another second, I plow through the door. She stands at the window with her back to me. The woman is still stark naked, peering out into the street.

  “Why aren’t you clothed?” I hiss through clenched teeth.

  The sight of her milky skin mottled with bruises and cuts seems harsher in the daylight. I want to cover her up and hide what that bastard did to her.

  When she turns toward me, I drag my gaze away from her breasts to her face. A frown tugs at her lips as she recedes to her inward thoughts. With a growl, I snatch the dress up and storm over to her.

  “Put this on. Now. We cannot have you traipsing around naked. Why are you naked, woman?”

  I am completely flustered and unsure how to handle her. Calling for a doctor is of utmost importance.

  “No.”

  My jaw drops, and I gape at her. “Ella, put on the goddamned dress.”

  Tears well in her eyes, but she shakes her head vehemently.

  “Put on the dress or I’ll put it on for you,” I threaten.

  She shoves me the moment I near her with the material. “Get away from me!”

  “This is insane! You will dress and you will come to breakfast with me. It is evident that you are upset and distraught from your times with William, but I will not allow you to act like some madwoman. Put the dress on.”

  When I approach once more with the dress, she screams and rips it from my hands. I watch in astonishment as she tosses it to the floor. Closing in on her, I clutch her wrists and still her flailing arms.

  “Why won’t you put the dress on, darling?” I question in a softer tone.

  She struggles for a moment before her shoulders sag and a wail rips from her. “I-I-I can’t. He made me wear that dressing gown for so long. I stank!” Her body is consumed by shuddering.

  I pull her into my arms to calm her. “Okay. Okay. Will you at least wear a robe? Please?” I beg into her hair.

  She slips her arms around my waist and hugs me as she cries, but I feel the slightest of nods. Progress.

  “I shall fetch it for you and escort you to breakfast. Ella, darling, I promise that it will get better. Let me help you.” Then I pull away to regard her teary face.

  Her cheeks are red from crying, and her bottom lip is dry and cracked. The whites of her eyes are bloodshot, and her nose is pink. Even in her wrecked state, I want to kiss her. Not much in my attraction to her has changed since I met her.

  Before I can talk myself out of it, I bring my lips to hers and kiss her softly on her mouth. I need to get lost in her—to extend the kiss and allow it to evolve into something more. To kiss away all of her problems. But I am a man with morals, contrary to my brother’s beliefs, which means that, as soon as the kiss begins, I pull away and end it.

  Her eyes are no longer feral or sad—they’re confused. Hell, I’m fucking confused. I am supposed to be caring for her, not wishing I could lead her over to the bed and pleasure her instead.

  “Dress before I do something regrettable,” I tell her gruffly and attempt to move away from her.

  She widens her eyes but bravely shakes her head. “It wouldn’t be regrettable. Why won’t you touch me? Is it because I am . . .” she trails off.

  I snake my arm around her waist and tug her to me. “You’re what?”

  “Tainted.”

  A roar rips from me. My thumb barely traces along the bones in her spine in a soft manner that contrasts the menacing noises coming my throat.

  “He took what wasn’t his to take? Ella, did he rape you?”

  She bites her lip and then shakes her head.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I asked him to.”

  Her eyebrows defiantly pinch together when I glare at her.

  “Why in the ever-loving fuck would you ask him?” I snap but immediately soften because I don’t want to upset her any more than she already is. “It was only once and you were under duress—”

  “It happened twice.”

  Twice.

  But not against her will.

  “Talk to me right now, Ella,” I say in a low voice, “You’re not making one goddamned bit of sense.”

  “It was my plan!” she cries. “Okay? Don’t you see? I was looking for a way out. I’m no whore!”

  I slide my hands into her wild, blond hair and grip her tight. Her breaths come out in angry gasps as we stare at one another.

  “You were a victim, darling!” I exclaim. “You could have fucked him a million fucking times and you, dear Ella, would not be tainted. He may have tarnished your soul, but you’re still perfect. In fact, all I can think about is kissing those damn lips again.”

  Her mouth parts as she flutters her eyes closed. Without hesitation, I dip my mouth to hers and I kiss her with every emotion I’m feeling at the moment: fury, sadness, hope, adoration.

  A moan spills from her into my mouth, which I devour. I kiss her until she’s collapsing in my arms. She holds on to me as if I will disappear at any moment.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I growl out when we finally break from our impressive kiss.

  My guess is that she’s soaking wet for me based on the lust-filled gaze she’s staring at me with. The thick erection in my trousers presses painfully against her. Together, we sit in a moment of time we have frozen and simply regard one another.

  Her lips, so swollen and pink—I crave them incredibly so.

  “Make love to me,” she murmurs.

  God, how I want to. And oh, how I could. But it simply isn’t right. She’s too feral—not quite right after her distressing situation. The woman is too fragile, and I’m afraid she’ll shatter her already fractured soul. I want to help her find herself before I take her body. It must come with time, not out of necessity to erase the past.

  I need her to love me, because when I finally do take her, I will be in love with her. There’s no doubt about that. I’m already falling fast and hard. And that is why it is important for me to lay a more solid foundation for our relationship.

  “Darling, I want to make love to you so badly it hurts. But, unfortunately, we must resist. You are still afflicted from having been taken against your will and then made to do things you wouldn’t normally have done. Had this not all happened and I called upon you to court you, Ella, you wouldn’t be asking me to take you to bed after one kiss. Please understand why I am doing this. Not because I don’t want to, but because I cannot. We’ll know when the time is right. Trust me, dear, for I have never given you a reason not to.”

  Her shoulders sag, but she nods in a sad, defeated manner. Upon pulling her to me, I kiss the top of her head. She feels right in my arms, and I want to keep her here, where she’ll always be safe.

  This woman is unlike any other lady I have been with. Ella Merriweather, while once innocent and unknowing of the harmful way of the world, is now fierce and has discovered an inner strength most people will never find within themselves. Her body thrums as it attempts to control this newly revealed part.

  As much as I mourn for the girl who was lost the moment William killed her father and did heinous things to her, I know that I must celebrate the woman she has become.


  Ella Merriweather is a survivor.

  But with this newfound persona, she must learn her boundaries and limitations too. Throwing herself at me is, in her mind, a cure, when, in actuality, it is only putting a bandage on her innermost bleeding wound. I want to heal her, not simply stop the bleeding. My desire is to stich her up with the strength of my love.

  “You’re amazing, beautiful girl,” I growl into her hair.

  When her sobs die down, she hugs me tight. My fingers skitter down the smooth skin of her back, and I rest them right above her arse. Though I itch to grab a handful of it, I refrain.

  “Darling, our courtship starts now. Let’s find you a robe, and then I am escorting you to breakfast. We shall spend the day together, getting to know one another. Will you allow me to court you, Ella Merriweather?” I question and then pull away to look at her.

  Her blue eyes flicker with an innocence I remember but thought had long since been snuffed out. As a tiny smile tugs at her lips, I have the desire to kiss it right off her face.

  “What if you don’t come to like what you learn about me?”

  I grin at her and graze my nose against hers. “Too late, angel. I’m far past like. The truth of the matter is that I hope you do not decide you don’t like me, for I will go mad. There is something between us, and it will only grow with time. It will be something perfect and wonderful—all we have to do is nurture it,” I say before I press a kiss to her lips. “And there will be no lovemaking.”

  When I glance down at her to gauge her reaction, I see that her nose is scrunched up and her lips are about to argue. So, I kiss them to silence her.

  “Yet, dear woman. There will be no lovemaking yet.”

  Both Gretchen and Gerald met my gaze with widened eyes this morning when I escorted Ella, who was barely clothed in a short, silky robe, on my arm for breakfast. Wisely, however, neither of them spoke a word. Gerald commented on the weather and politics while Gretchen asked Ella about her nephews. It was clear we were all dancing around the obvious topic of last night. Several times, Ella became frightened or had a bout of anxiety. Each time, I simply slid a palm over her bare thigh and squeezed it. It relaxed her immediately, and I was thankful I had the ability to calm her.

  “Alcott, I need to ask you about some business matters in the study. Care to meet with me now that breakfast is over?” Gerald questions as he sips his hot tea.

  My eyes skitter over to Ella, who regards me with terrified eyes.

  “I could really use some help with the cleanup. Would you help me, Ella?” Gretchen questions.

  I know that Jasper pays Gretchen to do the housework without the assistance of anyone. But I also can see that Gerald wants to speak to me out of her earshot. They are playing a game to subtly make that happen.

  Guilt over making the old woman do all of the work wins out and Ella agrees, only with slight reluctance.

  “Very well,” I say as Gerald and I stand. “Ella, I shall fetch you in a bit and show you the garden. You may find it quite enjoyable there. That is Elisabeth’s favorite place to relax.”

  “I’d like that.” She flashes me with a shy smile. This smile, I recognize from before.

  I wink at her and take satisfaction in the way it reddens her cheeks. Then we hold each other’s gaze until I’m out of the dining area and striding toward the study with Gerald on my heels.

  Once he follows me inside and we close the door, I regard the old man. Gerald is a smaller fellow, and one would think he could be broken with a simple embrace. However, he is cunning and wise. I’d never put my strength against his knowledge. The man would cut me down to my knees in an instant—which is why he and I were a perfect team in our endeavor to find Ella. We complemented each other and found a balance that helped complete our mission of finding her.

  “The girl is unbalanced,” he says gruffly as he sits in the chair opposite the desk Jasper allows me to use for work.

  I frown at him. “The bastard fucked her. Not against her will—it was her plan to free herself. Clearly, it worked. She’s disturbed by that notion, but I will calm her, Gerald. I will bring her back to me.”

  He nods his approval. “If she is anything like Elisabeth or Edith, she’ll be worth the troubles, I suppose. I want you to be happy, son.”

  I beam at him. My father, though I love him, has always been regal and stiff. Gerald, on the other hand, feels like the loving fathers Mother used to read to me about in the storybooks as a boy. He is very close to me.

  “Thank you, sir. Now, have you heard any word on Caulder or his goons?”

  “Not a word, but I don’t doubt that we shall soon be investigated. It will be advisable for you to carry a weapon whenever you go out for business. I would suggest you bring very little business into the estate in an effort to protect Ella.”

  My lips press into a firm line. We will have to be on the constant lookout for those bastards. In no time, they’ll be crawling on this estate like fucking rats.

  “She desires to end Mr. Caulder’s life. I’m afraid she won’t settle until it’s done,” I sigh.

  He palms his scruffy face and regards me with raised, white eyebrows. “That is the most horrible idea I have ever heard. Keep her safe, here. Don’t let her out of this compound, Alcott. I will do whatever I can to help you dispatch Caulder and his men. Anything. But for the love of God, don’t let the girl go. She may have had luck on her side with William. But Caulder is ruthless and cunning unlike William. He isn’t blinded by a broken heart. Caulder will stop at nothing, and if he gets her in his clutches, he will damage her beyond repair.”

  The warning hangs thick in the air, and my breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.

  “So be it, Gerald. I shall do my work behind her back. I will need your help in distracting her. Now, let’s formulate a plan.”

  THE WIND PICKS UP, and a slamming door startles me from my daze. My heartrate quickens, but I still it once I realize nobody is here to harm me. Then I turn my attention back to my novel and stretch my bare legs out on the bench.

  Out here, in the garden, is the only place I can be free. It is completely surrounded by walls, but the sky is open to me. The small area is overgrown with wild and beautiful plants. A thick, heavy, sweet honeysuckle-and-lemon scent permeates the air, and I gulp in lungfuls of it.

  Today, the sun is shining and I can feel my skin cooking from the heat of it. I am almost happy and carefree. Neither Alcott nor the staff says a word about the fact that I bask in the sunlight every day, free of clothing. However, he did insist that Gerald hang some curtains in the windows so I could have my privacy.

  The birds chirp in the lemon tree, and I sigh. It is almost a perfect escape from my mind and reality. Since coming to Jasper’s estate a week ago, I have spent countless hours of each day out here.

  “Ella,” Alcott’s deep voice booms from the doorway.

  Lazily, I drag my gaze over to him and shield my eyes to see him better. “Alcott.”

  His eyes are downcast, but I wish he would look at my body. Ever since that first night, he has refused to touch me in a sexual manner despite my daily begging. Now, I’m tired of begging aloud for it. I shall simply hope instead.

  “I must leave to take care of some business,” he says as he enters the garden and makes his way over to me.

  I wait for his eyes to peruse my body—to show an interest in me. But alas, he does not. Much to my dismay, he picks my robe up off the ground and hands it to me.

  Rolling my eyes, I huff at him but don’t don the robe. “What sort of business? Does it involve Caulder?”

  Our conversations always loop back to that man.

  This time, he meets my gaze with a glare of his own. “No, just business.”

  I thread my fingers together behind me and stretch. Now I have his attention. His eyes skim down to my breasts, which are on full display, before he drags them back away.

  “Care for a taste?” I taunt with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

&nbs
p; He grunts and ignores my question. “I thought we could visit my brother and your sisters in Havering. We could leave in the morning.”

  I leap from the bench so quickly that he doesn’t have time to react or retreat like normal. When my hands find the lapels to his waistcoat, I tug him against my bare body.

  “What about Caulder? I’m not leaving until it is done, Alcott.”

  He goes to push me away, but I clutch tighter. Once he realizes I am not going anywhere, he slips his arms around my waist and pulls me to him. We may not be as sexual as I would like, but Alcott is affectionate. He steals me to him for kisses and hugs often, and I look forward to his touch, even if it only makes me wish for more.

  “Darling, I’m worried about you. Doctor Morton thinks—”

  I cut him off. “Doctor Morton is an idiot. He thinks he can fix me with his potions and tonics. I don’t need fixing, Alcott. What will fix me is the day I stab Caulder in the fucking heart!”

  Alcott glares at me with a ferocity I should fear—but I don’t. Instead, I dampen between my legs and the familiar ache taunts me. Every night, with my fingers, I search for the elusive pleasure button. And each night, I fail. I’m frustrated and angry that he won’t ease my ache.

  “You can’t go around killing everyone, Ella. You’re a small, dainty woman for fuck’s sake,” he snarls.

  I sneer at him. “Just one man, not everyone. If Caulder doesn’t get what he deserves, he’ll only seek out more women to destroy. Do you think I am the first one?”

  He stiffens in my arms. “Why can’t you just let me take care of it, woman?”

  “Because I need this,” I sigh. “I need this for my sanity, okay?” My tone melts the glacier between us.

  Then his hands find my arse. “You make me want to give you your way.”

  I smile broadly at him. “So give it to me.”

  Even though we’re talking about Caulder, neither of us miss the double meaning. I have begged and pleaded for his touch, but he continues to deny me, saying it’s for my own good.