Page 35 of A Whisper Of Desire (The Disgraced Lords #4)

“The next twelve months I was ignorant of his increasingly debauched behavior because I was at school. When I came home at the end of term the atmosphere in my father’s house was one of terror.

My father no longer went to town because the brothels he usually inhabited closed their doors to him.

He was living permanently at the estate in Hampshire, hoping the local lasses did not understand or know of his condition. ”

He watched her swallow. “He was having relations with women knowing he was ill.” Marisa’s horror could not be contained.

“You know the answer to that because of Priscilla. He had no real symptoms at this stage, so it was easy to hide.”

She looked away. He was pretty sure it would not be the last time she looked away before his story finished.

“Near the end of the term break, a ‘lady,’ and I use the term loosely, arrived. It was my father’s mistress. I didn’t know at the time, but she also had syphilis. I don’t know if she gave it to father, or he to her, I didn’t really care.”

“At least he wouldn’t be infecting other women if she was with him.”

“Ah, you don’t know the depth of depravity the two of them fell to.

” He took a deep breath and willed himself to hold himself together.

He didn’t want to fall to pieces in front of her.

“One day I’d been out riding, visiting some of the tenants.

They had asked to see me to express their concerns over my father and how the estate was being run.

They wanted to know when he was returning to London. ”

“I got back later than I expected. Dusk had fallen. As I rode into the stable yard I heard young Annie the under-parlor maid screaming. It was coming from the stables. No groom came out to meet my horse. That was when I had a good idea who was in the stable and why Annie was screaming.”

Tears welled in Marisa’s eyes and her hands clenched on her lap. “I don’t want to hear if something dreadful happened to her.”

He crouched down and took her hands in his, unfurling her tiny fingers and lacing them with his.

“I managed to get there in time. It was the first time I realized I was big enough, and he was drunk enough, for me to battle with my father. I punched him and wrestled him to the ground long enough for little Annie to make her escape.”

“Thank goodness,” Marisa said, and squeezed his hand.

He pressed a kiss to her head and stood. He leaned against the mantelpiece, needing the support for what was to come. It was almost harder in the telling . . .

“I had not seen Violetta, his mistress, hidden in the shadows. The next minute, all I remember is a huge pain in the back of my skull, and then darkness.”

He focused on one of Marisa’s pearl drop earrings. He couldn’t bear to see her reaction to the next part of the story. His hands began to shake, and he gripped the mantelpiece.

“When I woke up . . .” He wiped his brow with his handkerchief.

“When I woke up I was stretched naked across hay bales, with my arms over my head tied to the stall reins hook, and my feet were bound.” He heard her indrawn breath.

“And Violetta was using her mouth on me with my father encouraging her.”

She gave a strangled cry and surged to her feet, racing to embrace him, but he held her back. “I tried to get her to stop—begged, in fact. However, my father told me I should thank her and that a real man would not complain.”

“Oh, my God, I feel sick,” Marisa said, but she stayed next to him, gripping the hand that held her back.

He felt the sting of shame and his eyes filled, he couldn’t help it.

“I tried to block the sensations, but I’d never had a woman take me in her mouth.

I couldn’t believe that she could make me aroused while I was being so humiliated.

” He choked back a sob. “I didn’t want it to happen. ”

This time she pushed his arms aside and pulled him to her. She hugged him tightly, as if she were never going to let him go, and they quietly stood, sobbing in each other’s arms.

“You were but a boy, you must have been terribly frightened of all you were feeling and seeing and what was happening to you. Your response was not your fault. It does not make you a monster. You were a victim.”

“I have since learned that a man can get an erection without desire. I’ve often had no desire when I have been with a woman, but as soon as she intimately touches me . . .” He hugged her tighter. “But I ejaculated. I couldn’t help it.”

“But did you find pleasure in your release?” she asked softly. “When I’m with you, and I orgasm, the world lights up and I feel like I’m flying high above the clouds. I want to make love with you over and over again.”

When she saw the pain etched on his face, she almost wished she could take back her words.

Perhaps she shouldn’t make him face what had been done to him.

But now she understood the reason he became the Cold Duke.

His life remained empty. He was too scared to engage with this world, to live a full life because of his fears.

She had to show him that there was nothing wrong with him and that he deserved to live !

That he deserved passion and love.

She heard his inhalation. She felt his chest still, his breath trapped inside. The beating of his heart; steady and true beneath her ear, began to race.

“Oh, my God. No,” he exclaimed in wonder. “No. I did not feel any joy. All I felt was shame and agony that she had forced that from me.” He breathed her name. “Thank you, Marisa. I found no pleasure in the act at all.”

“See, you had a physical release separated from your mind and will. You might have found release, but you certainly did not enjoy the act. It was not lust, or desire, that night. It was rape.”

She could feel his tears dropping onto her arm, and her tears flowed freely too. She hugged him tightly, whispering endearments.

They stood like this for several minutes until both of them quieted down. She turned without saying a word and led him to the bed, where they lay down, holding each other. He rested his head on her bosom and closed his eyes, wishing the past to the devil. At last he felt safe, here in her arms.

“Shh, I have you. Everything is all right now. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” Her tears mingled with his as he lay in her innocent embrace, healing.

The full moon had begun to rise by the time they both stopped the flow of tears and lay facing each other on his bed.

He ran a finger down her cheek, tracing the path of her dried tears.

No one had ever cried for him. “The reason I have tried to stay away from you is because I’d been petrified of turning into my father.

I thought because I found my release that day, even though she was in point of fact molesting me, that I was twisted like my father. ”

“Your father was ill; you are not.”

“I didn’t want to risk testing that theory. What if, because I enjoyed that debacle, meant I was twisted too?”

“You didn’t enjoy it, that is the point.” Marisa placed her hand on his heart. “You’re a good man. I know it. Sebastian must know it. He’d never have let us wed otherwise.” She frowned. “Is that where you were this morning? Talking to Sebastian?”

He nodded.

“That must have been excruciatingly embarrassing.”

“I did it for you. For us. Arend?—”

“Arend. You spoke to Arend about our marriage?” Her horrified expression made him want to smile.

“Not really. But he said something that made me decide I’d been a coward for too long. I needed to learn who I am, what I am capable of.”

“What did Arend say?”

“That if I made it seem like I didn’t desire you, that you’d find someone to prove me wrong.”

“No. I would never do that.”

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Why?”

The question was quietly spoken, but with such longing behind the words that his soul opened.

Was this warmth infusing every extremity love?

He didn’t know if love really existed, or if what he felt for Marisa was love.

Until he could sort out the tangle of emotions roaring round his body he couldn’t give her the words she obviously wanted to hear.

He would not lie. He especially would not lie to the woman who would be his wife until “death do us part.”

“Because you are important to me.”

The light left her expression, and she looked away, saying, “You’re important to me too.

We have a chance to build a good life together.

” She turned her face back to him, her eyes full of tears.

“I’m so sorry I pushed you. If I’d known what they did to you I would not have thrown myself at you so wantonly. You must have hated me.”

“I’d never hate you.” If he believed in love he would say the clenching in his chest was a sign.

He wiped her tears away. “I want to thank you for forcing me to face my fears. You helped me understand that I did nothing wrong. Also that desire, need, and want are all natural between men and women. I’m so lucky to have a sensual wife.

One who can share my desires and give mutual pleasure. ”

She gave a smile through shimmering eyes. “I enjoy being with you. So much so I wanted more. I thought you not coming to my bed meant you did not desire me.”

“I did desire you, so very much, and it scared me. I thought I might lose control and let my darker side out. I enjoyed making love to you. Wild fantasies filled my mind. I thought I was starting down the dark path to my father’s obsession with sex. I even tried to stick to my schedule.”

She squeezed his hand where their fingers were still joined.

“I may be young, but I’m not na?ve. Many people enjoy robust sex lives without turning depraved.

I find it depends on the people concerned and if”—she hesitated—“if they have . . . deep feelings . . . for each other.” She bit her lip and added, “Beatrice and Sebastian can’t keep their hands off each other, but I doubt my brother will become some depraved madman. ”