The Virgin in the Rake’s Bed by Ava MacAdams
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Ifeared you would not come,” Ian said, throwing his arms around Catherine and kissing her.
There had been a slight delay in Jenny getting to the gate with her bags, Rickard asking questions of the servants, his suspicions evident.
“I am here now. That is all that matters, and we can leave at once, can we not?” Catherine said, as their lips parted.
“The carriage is waiting, all is prepared, we leave for Lancaster, and if we get a good start before our route is discovered then we can be in Gretna Green long before any follower catches us,” he said, hurrying her toward the waiting carriage.
It was exciting to think of such deception, and Catherine eagerly clambered inside as Ian followed. With a sigh of relief, they sat back, their hands clasped together, and Ian banged on the carriage roof for the driver to set off.
“How long will it take?” she asked, for Catherine had barely ever set foot outside of London.
“It will be many days’ travel, and not entirely comfortable, but we shall be together, and that is all that matters,” he replied, leaning over to kiss her, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her into an embrace.
As the carriage left London, Catherine felt as though she were leaving all her troubles behind her. Her father would soon discover the truth, but by then, she and Ian would be far enough away for none of it to matter. She had escaped, and now she was in the arms of the man she loved, looking forward to the moment of marriage, a moment that would finally set her free.
“What beautiful country this is,” Catherine exclaimed, peering out of the carriage window.
They had long since left London behind, taking the road north through rolling pastures and farmland. They had passed through pretty villages, and a market town, the road now winding its way up a hill, commanding magnificent views for miles all around.
“You have not strayed far from London, have you?” Ian said, and Catherine shook her head.
“My life has been lived almost entirely in its environs, subjected to the concerns of the ton. I realize now there is so much more to see,” she replied.
“And we shall see it together, though I do not care much for the northern country,” he said, taking her by the hand.
They drove on for much of the afternoon, pausing occasionally for refreshment, until at last they arrived at inn, where other carriages were laid up for the night, and horses billeted in the stables.
“Are we to stay here?” she asked, and he nodded.
“If one leaves the confines of the capital, one must be prepared for a somewhat rougher way of life,” he said, opening the carriage door and helping her down.
The inn was a solidly built timber-framed building, with a sign swinging gently in the breeze. “The Punchbowl, I am sure it will be very pleasant,” she said, reading the sign.
“I am sure it will be adequate, and we shall leave first thing in the morning,” he said, beckoning her to follow him inside.
They made their way through a door and into a taproom, the far wall lined with barrels, and a counter in front behind which stood an elderly man who nodded to them.
“Is it a room you are wanting?” he asked, his broad country accent sounding strange to Catherine, who was used to the exact pronunciation of the ton.
“A room, yes,” Ian replied, and Catherine turned to him in surprise.
“Are we to share?” she whispered, and he smiled.
“I would not think it was safe for you to have your own quarters,” he said, and she blushed.
“Board and dining, three shillings, sir,” the man said, having introduced himself as the landlord.
“That will do nicely,” Ian said, and the landlord nodded.
“And what name is it?” he asked.
“Mr… Johnson, Edward Johnson, and my wife… Celia,” Ian said.
The landlord nodded, before leading them up a flight of rickety wooden stairs to a landing above. The carriage driver would sleep in the stables, and the landlord showed Catherine and Ian into a room at the far end of the landing, which looked out over the road to the south.
“I shall have the boy bring you up your dinner. It is simple fare, for we are simple people, but you shall not be disturbed otherwise,” he said, and nodding to them, he closed the door.
The room was simply furnished with a bed, washstand, and two chairs. Catherine opened the window to allow the fresh air in before sitting down on the bed, still somewhat intrigued by the thought of sharing it with Ian.
“I have never…” she said, and Ian laughed.
“We are to be married, and will we not share a bed then?” he asked, and Catherine blushed.
Her lessons on seduction had given rise to passion, but to be in his arms, to fall asleep together, that was an intimacy beyond the merely physical. She smiled at him and nodded.
“I would like it,” she said, and he came to sit next to her, putting his arms around her and kissing her.
“Soon it will not seem so strange, we are meant to be together,” he said, and she nodded.
Everything about this adventure was new, and she wondered whether her absence was yet realized. To be away from the house for a day would go unnoticed, and even failing to be present for dinner would not necessarily arouse her father’s suspicion. But Catherine knew when breakfast came the next day, both her and father and brother would begin asking questions. An unmarried woman did not stay out overnight, and they would soon discover she was not at the home of Rebecca and Nicholas.
The inn seemed busy, and for the rest of the evening Catherine sat in a chair by the window, watching as other travelers came and went. Later, a boy brought a tray of bread and cheese, a flagon of ale, and some apples for their dinner. Catherine was hungry, and she and Ian shared the meal, talking of all that was to come. He expected them to arrive in Lancaster three days later, and from there it would be a further two days north to Gretna Green.
“And they will marry us there? Will there be a minister?” she asked, and Ian nodded.
“Do not fear, the marriage will be valid. It is the blacksmith who will marry us,” Ian replied, and Catherine looked at him in surprise.
“Blacksmith? I do not understand,” she said, and he smiled.
“The Marriage Act of seventeen fifty-four forbid anyone under the age of twenty-one from marrying without the permission of their parents. But it does not apply in Scotland, and ever since then young couples have eloped north to be married just across the border at Gretna Green. In London, a woman of your standing would need the permission of her father to marry, even though you are beyond the age of permission. In Gretna Green, no one will ask if we have permission. They will only ask if we are in love,” he said, setting down his tankard of ale and smiling at her.
“And we shall both answer, yes,” she replied, smiling at him.
The day was drawing in now, and the landlord’s boy brought them candles to light the room. Catherine closed the curtains and turned down the bed, slipping out of her dress and between the blankets, waiting for Ian to join her. She was nervous at the thought of sharing the bed with him, but intrigued, too, to know the feeling of another asleep at her side. He too had undressed, wearing only his overshirt against the chill of the night, and he slipped beneath the blanket, rolling on his side to face her.
“I hope you will sleep comfortably,” he said, and she smiled, gazing into his eyes, knowing there was nowhere else she would rather be.
“I never thought I could be so bold as this,” she said, and he laughed.
“To run away? To elope? But you were bold, you are bold. If it had not been so, then you would never have approached me in the library at the Somerset residence. You would never have persuaded me as to the ruse. It was you who seduced me, Catherine, and how glad I am to have been seduced,” he said.
She reached out and placed her finger to his lips, moving forward to kiss him. He put his arm over, drawing her close to him, their bodies entwined, their kiss now passionate. He ran his hands over her, and she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head now on his chest, exposed from his open shirt.
“You were not playing one of your games? Subjecting me to your rules? Are there rules now?” she asked, and he lay back, running his hands through her hair.
“Why would we need rules now? There is no barrier between us, nothing to prevent us giving ourselves entirely to one another, though I think… I would like to wait until our wedding night to know you fully,” he said, and she nodded.
“But for now…?” she asked, running her hand over his chest, causing him to tense as her touch reached his pleasure.
“For now, we have all night together,” he said, his own hand now on her breast, pulling back her nightgown.
As he exposed her, the chill of the air caught her skin, and she shivered, though a warmth crept through her at his touch, that same arousal coming over her as it had in library during the ball. She was lying back on the bed, his lips moving from her breasts and trailing across her skin, further down, his tongue tracing a line, a sensation which suddenly caused her to cry out in delight as he searched out her sex, the heat of his lips now filling her with ecstasy.
She was entirely caught up in the sensation, longing for further pleasures, his tongue encircling her, his fingers searching her out. She felt her whole body tensing, a shudder then running through her, and she let out a cry as a searing heat ran through her loins. The intensity was quite astonishing, and she could barely contain her words, breathless and desirous for more. Her hands went to his head, holding him that same position, forceful for her pleasure.
“Again,” she gasped, and with fresh arousal, his tongue searched her more intimately, causing her to buck and writhe, his touch sending her into ecstasy.
Now, he brought his lips to her breasts again, his body over her, the tip of his sex touching where his tongue had searched her out. She took hold of it, running her hands along the length, his lips now on hers, and with a shudder he gave a loud cry, the seed spilling over her, each of them breathless. He took her in his arms, rolling her onto her side, their lips pressed together, catching their breath and smiling at one another in the light of the candle burning on the table by the bedside.
“And now to rest,” he whispered, as she rested her head on his chest.
“Do you think we will get to Gretna without being discovered?” she whispered, and he laughed.
“Do you not think I can outwit your brother? We will get there, Catherine, and we shall be married before anyone can stop us. After all, do we not have love on our side?” he asked, leaning over to blow out the candle, the room plunged into darkness and only the sounds of the horses in the stable below to disturb them.
