Page 17 of The Lovers (Echoes from the Past #1)

NINE

Elise woke with a start. The candle had burned down, and the fire had been reduced to a heap of smoldering embers.

A rosy glow illuminated the room, making everything appear dreamlike.

The connecting door between her room and Edward’s was open, and a silhouette stood over the bed.

Elise sat up, amazed that she’d managed to fall asleep in her state of nervous expectation.

It had to be after midnight since the house was silent around her, all traces of earlier merriment gone now that the guests had departed.

Edward pulled a new candle out of a drawer and held it to the embers until the wick caught.

A little golden flame sprang to life, casting light onto his face.

He had removed his wig and coat, wearing only a shirt, breeches, and hose.

Edward looked disheveled, his face puffy from overindulgence in drink.

Elise assumed that he was about to undress and get into bed, but instead he sat in a chair, studying her with an air of maudlin reflection, likely brought on by drunkenness.

He seemed in no hurry to come to bed and just remained where he was, watching Elise, which made her shiver with apprehension.

The door creaked, and a young man entered the chamber on silent feet.

Elise stiffened at the sight of him, unsure of why he was there.

He wasn’t a servant, she was sure of that.

She’d seen him before today, with Edward, and then again at the church, but he hadn’t been at the supper.

She expected Edward to order him to leave immediately, but her husband said nothing, amused by her reaction.

He waved the young man into the room and asked him to close the connecting door.

Elise turned to her husband, awaiting an explanation as her heart thumped against her breast and her breath caught in her throat.

“My dear,” Edward began, his tone solicitous, “there is something I must share with you.”

“My lord?” Elise’s voice shook. She had no idea what her husband was about to say, but she knew, in that instinctive way one knew things, that whatever it was, she wasn’t going to like it.

“Some years ago, shortly after the death of my wife, I suffered a riding accident. I’d been thrown from my horse during a hunt. I’d lost the use of my legs, and the physician wasn’t sure that I would be able to walk again, given the injury to my spine.”

“But you have recovered,” Elise pointed out, unsure of what any of this had to do with their nuptials and the presence of the man in her chamber.

“I have recovered, yes. It took nearly a year before I was able to walk again, but I can no longer ride,” he said with a smirk, as if alluding to something else. “The injury has rendered me impotent, so I am quite unable to perform my husbandly duties.”

Elise gaped at him. Why had he married her, then? Her father had given her to understand that Lord Asher desired a son to carry on the family name and inherit the vast estate he possessed.

“I don’t understand,” Elise mumbled.

Edward beckoned for the other man to come into the light.

He was in his mid-twenties, with a mane of dark hair that fell to the collar of his doublet and thickly lashed eyes beneath severe dark brows.

Elise couldn’t quite make out the color of his eyes, especially since the man was looking away from her, his posture rigid.

“This is James Coleman. He’s my natural-born son,” Edward confided with a sad smile. “His mother worked here as a laundry maid when she first came to London from the country. She was a very comely lass,” he added wistfully.

“My lord, what are you trying to tell me?” Elise asked, her voice now sharp with worry.

“What I am trying to tell you, my dear, is that James will stand in for me in the marriage bed. My blood flows in his veins, so his child will be the closest I can get to a legitimate heir.”

“You wish me to give birth to your grandson and pass him off as your son?” Elise gasped, Edward’s meaning finally sinking into her muddled brain.

“Now you’ve got it. I always thought you were a clever girl.”

“That goes against the teachings of the Church,” Elise protested. “If you cannot consummate the marriage, it can still be annulled,” she cried. What Edward was proposing was scandalous.

“And your family can still be ruined, my sweet, so think carefully of what you wish to do next. In the eyes of God and man, you’re my wife, and I can do with you as I please.

You are my property. I’m only asking you to do that which you would have been expected to do anyway.

The only reason you are here is because I require a legitimate male heir.

Does it truly matter who plants that heir in your belly?

Are you so in love with me that you can’t bear to lie with another man?

” Edward asked, chuckling sarcastically. “Come now, he’s a well-made lad.”

Elise’s eyes slid to the young man who stood silently with his back to the fireplace. He looked angry and humiliated but didn’t utter a word of protest.

“Get on with it, James,” Edward said, tired of discussing the matter .

“Will you not leave us alone?” James asked, speaking for the first time. He had a deep voice that Elise would have found pleasing on any other occasion.

“It is my wedding night, after all. I intend to enjoy it to the best of my ability, and I need to make sure that you do what’s asked of you.”

“As you wish,” James replied woodenly. He pulled something out of his pocket and set it on the small table by the bed before pulling off his boots and removing his doublet and breeches.

Thankfully, he kept on his shirt. Elise felt an overwhelming sense of panic as the mattress sank beneath his weight, and tears stung her eyes as she stared imploringly at Edward, but he seemed unmoved by her plight.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, as if he were preparing to watch a play.

“Lie down,” James instructed as he took the vial from the bedside table and poured something into his hand. The smell of rose oil filled Elise’s nostrils and nearly made her gag.

“It will make it easier,” James explained as he slid his hand beneath her nightdress.

Elise gasped as his fingers made contact with her flesh.

No one had touched her down there since she was a little girl and required help bathing.

The sensation was strange and alarming. James touched her lightly as he applied the oil, not only to the outside but also to the very core of her.

“Try to relax,” he said not unkindly. “I have no wish to hurt you.”

Elise squeezed her eyes shut as James pushed her legs apart with his knee.

She felt his hand move against her pelvis as he took hold of himself and guided his shaft inside her, stretching and pushing until she cried out, shocked by unexpected pain as her maidenhead gave way.

James began to move, slowly and deliberately.

The pain had passed, replaced by a feeling of intrusion and violation.

Her defiler refused to meet her gaze as she looked up at him, her eyes full of accusation.

What kind of man was he to perpetuate such sin at his father’s bidding?

“Close your eyes,” James ordered her, clearly annoyed by her staring.

She did. If she didn’t see his face, she could pretend that it was Gavin, consummating their marriage. Would it feel different than this? she wondered. Would she welcome Gavin into her body, or would it still feel this wrong?

Elise’s eyes flew open as she let out a low moan. She hadn’t expected to, but the sensation had gone from being intrusive to something quite different. It was almost pleasurable. Her moan seemed to undo James, who let out a gasp of his own before collapsing on top of her, having completed his task.

Edward chuckled mirthlessly from his place against the wall.

“Liked it, did you, lady wife?” he asked nastily.

“Too bad I can’t bed you myself. You’re a tasty little morsel, I’ll grant you that.

I would have enjoyed you had I been able to do my duty by you.

Did you enjoy her, son ?” His tone was one of derision.

He was clearly bitter and angry at his predicament and would have liked to punish them both.

“Get out,” he hissed to James. The young man got out of bed, grabbed his clothes, and disappeared into the adjoining room.

“You will lie with James until you get with child,” Edward informed Elise, now standing over the bed. “And then you will do it again, even if the child is a boy. Is that understood?” he asked, his tone menacing now.

“Yes.”

“You are to have no dealings with James outside this bed. If I so much as see you talking to each other, I will have you both whipped. You are my wife, and I am your husband. James is nothing but my cock. Remember that.”

Elise nodded her understanding. She felt sick to her stomach and wished only to be left in peace.

“Oh, how I wish your mother was alive to see this,” Edward suddenly added with a twisted smile.

“She rejected me, you know. Once, a long time ago. She chose your feckless father over me. She proved a good breeder. Three sons in as many years, and only one of them dead,” he added, his tone musing.

“They could have been my sons. Well, I might not have had her, but I now hold the power of life and death over her daughter. Ironic, is it not? I suppose life has a way of righting certain wrongs,” he added with a laugh.

With that, he turned on his heel and strode from the room, leaving Elise to gaze after him with a mutinous expression.

She adjusted her nightdress, blew out the candle, and pulled up the blanket, but she was unable to sleep.

She was seething with humiliation and resentment.

Lord Asher had deceived her father about his intentions and acted out of spite because of something her mother had done decades before.

Elise was now his to command and pimp. Hot tears rolled down her face as she sobbed into the pillow.

What was she to do now? How was she to go on?

Edward Asher had no intention of being a real husband to her.

She was a broodmare, her presence in his house having only one purpose.