Charlotte swallowed hard and decided she had no choice but to throw herself at his absolute mercy. ''Perhaps I didn't make myself clear, my Lord. Please allow me to show you precisely what I mean.'' She felt for his manhood and traced her finger over it. When she knelt before him, he gasped. ''Relax, my Lord. Realize what can be yours.''
She snapped open the buttons and took out his penis. She wrapped her hand around it and opened her mouth. Before she could take him, however, he came over her hand.
The Duke gasped as he recovered from the most erotic moment of his life. ''I will see his sentence is commuted to life imprisonment. No less. That's my final word.''
Charlotte had no more ammunition. She knew that if the Duke wouldn't free Ralph now after she had performed oral sex on him, he would never do so. Her decision was simple. Was Ralph's life worth tying herself to the Duke forever?
''I agree, my Lord. If you arrange to have Mr. Bellingham spared, I will consent to be your wife.''
''And perform those acts you promised?''
''Yes, my Lord.''
''Then I shall arrange it. I will have a maid take you upstairs. Until the wedding, you will sleep in a room next to mine. I will go and clean myself now.''
When the Duke had closed the door, Charlotte vomited. The maid arrived and looked at the mess on the floor. She understood.
Chapter 8
St James Church was filled to capacity. The marriage of a Duke was a rare event, and the churchwardens had made sure the church looked better than it had ever done. At the alter, there were giant bouquets of white orchids. Each pew had a bunch of fresh wild flowers hanging from it, and the entrance to the church was bedecked with a thousand ribbons in the colors of the Eddington coat of arms. Guests had traveled from far afield, even as far as the colonies.
As The Duke looked behind him, he saw row upon row of well-wishers, dressed in the finest clothes money could buy. ''So this is it, no going back now,'' his best man said.
''No, she will soon be mine to do what I want with,'' he replied.
****
''We're too soon. A bride should be a little late. Please pull up here and wait for a few minutes,'' Charlotte shouted to the coachman.
''Are you sure you want to go ahead with this madness?'' her father asked. She'd asked him to give her away. At first he had refused, but once he'd realized she would not change her mind, he'd decided it would be best if he came to support her.
''Father, I have no choice. I will not see Mr. Bellingham hanged.''
''But you would condemn yourself to a life of abuse for him.''
''Let us not talk of it anymore.''
''Very well. If you would allow me, I would like to get out of the coach and smoke a cigar. It will calm my nerves.'' Lord Melbourne opened the door, got out of the coach and lit up. He walked towards the coachman and beckoned him to him.
''Sergeant, is everything ready?''
''Yes, Sir. It is.''
''Good. Remember, Sergeant, this is out last campaign. Let us remember the glorious days of our past and make this fight of good against evil our finest hour.''
''Yes, Sir. The men are ready. We await your signal, Sir.''
Lord Melbourne got back into the coach and took his daughter’s hand. ''Well, my dear, are you ready?''
''Yes, father,'' she replied reluctantly
The coach took five minutes to get to the church. Lord Melbourne got out and gave his hand to his daughter. Charlotte dismounted and was greeted by a round of applause, from some of the village women who had turned out to see her. She looked radiant. She was wearing a white bonnet and a white dress with a white mantel. In her hands was a magnificent bunch of daisies, her favorite flower.
''Take my arm, and I'll take you to your husband,'' Lord Melbourne said.
The organist saw the signal that the bride had arrived and started to play the Wedding March. The congregation stood and gazed at the beautiful bride as she passed them. When they reached the altar, Lord Melbourne gave his daughter to the Duke. When he did so, he scowled at him.
Lady Melbourne was busily wiping tears of joy from her cheeks when Lord Melbourne walked passed her. She looked nonplussed as he walked straight past her, down the aisle, and out of the church. Outside, he stood next to the door so that he could hear the service in progress. He listened intently as the vicar quoted the Book of Common Prayer and announced the first hymn.
After twenty minutes, it was time. He knew that the vicar would soon ask his daughter the question that he didn't want her to answer.
When Lord Melbourne gave the signal, they appeared. His cavalry. A bunch of old men, dressed in their moth-eaten uniforms, mounted on magnificently groomed horses. The sergeant, who had been the coachman, was now wearing his old Hussars uniform as well. In his hands were the reigns of Lord Melbourne's horse.
He handed him a silver sword. ''I thought the regimental sword may prove useful,'' he said.
''Thank you, Sergeant, very thoughtful of you.''
''Dismount, men. The sergeant will hold your horses. As we practiced, we will march into the church in formation and apprehend the scoundrel.''
Lord Melbourne heard the vicar say, ''Do you, Charlotte Emily Melbourne, take....''