This work is actually by two authors Battleaxe Babe and Jacque Adore. The characters and copyright are owned by Jacque Adore and Battleaxe Babe. All feedback welcome.
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By jacque_adore© and battleaxe_babe ©
“Bad, very bad,” Miss Sophia Cooper said to herself as she fought to control her rising panic. She knew she would have to act quickly, very quickly, if she did not all would be lost.
Sophia had no idea where the French soldiers had come from, she had walked down to the lake to collect water to heat the fire and when she had come back three soldiers were sitting around the fire she had built. Her Mercenary was sitting against a tree with a gun pointed at him. He seemed so calm, in fact he looked amused, she wondered if he had some kind of escape plan. But she was not about to rely on him to free himself. In a strange twist of fate she would have to rescue the man she had hired.
The soldiers were wearing messy dirty uniforms which told her that they were probably deserters and that the men around the fire would be the only ones. Whilst it was good that they were on their own, it also meant they would not be interested in taking prisoners. Sophia was sure that if they were as out of shape as their uniforms she could match them in a fight, but she would need to get close and she would need a distraction.
She looked about herself; there was her bucket of water and a few fallen branches, neither of which seemed very inspiring as a weapon.
There were weapons in the camp but she would have to get right up close to reach them. There was one other idea, not very appealing, but still it seemed better than the other option.
Five minutes later and soaking from the bucket of ice cold water she had poured over herself she stepped forward from the tree line into the clearing completely naked. Sophia pretended to be lost in thought and to have not noticed the men in the camp, but she knew they had noticed her. The look on all of their faces, including her Mercenaries’, was something she would never forget.
Miss Sophia Cooper with her blonde hair did indeed look like a vision stepping from the trees. She was tall at about five foot nine inches and she had her shoulder length hair hanging wet down her back. Her whole statuesque body shone as the light reflected off the ice cold water. Sophia had the body of a wealthy woman; she was clearly not near starving as most of the local population was. She had large full breasts that now, free of her corsets, hung naturally. Each breast had a large erect nipple pointing ever so slightly downwards, and they were surrounded by large dark areolas like ripe grapes, just ready to be eaten.
Beneath her breasts Sophia’s figure slimmed to a naturally narrow waist and below that, swelled wide hips and a slightly rounded tummy. She had an incredible pair of perfect long legs, toned by years of horse riding and between her legs was a neat thatch of fluffy blonde hair.
Sophia’s heart was beating fast, not at being exposed to so many men, but the thought that if she could not defeat them she was going to be in big trouble. Once the element of surprise was gone there would be little she could do to stop these three soldiers from doing whatever they damn well pleased with her. She could not help imagining the crude things her Uncle had told her about. As she approached the men her mind was full of images of the three men thrusting into her, her pale white body pinned beneath their rough uniformed bodies. Their members would fill her mouth, her pussy and worse of all sodomize her. She would be at their mercy, unable to stop them from using her.
The Frenchmen exchanged a few words and she acted as if she had just noticed them; then pretending to be shocked she brought up her hands, one to cover her breasts and one to cover between her legs.
“Who are you? What are you doing here and what have you done with my clothes?” she demanded walking towards the centre of the camp fire. She deliberately avoided her Mercenaries’ eyes; she did not want to see him enjoying her exposure as she was sure he would.
The French men did not speak any English or at least they pretended to not understand her. She moved right up against the fire, as if needing the warmth but placing herself within reach of the pan on the fire.
“Do you hear me, what have you done with my clothes?” she demanded as haughtily as she could.
One of the soldiers, she assumed the leader moved towards her, his body coming close, she wanted him to get near. She could tell he was aroused, his trousers looked uncomfortably tight; in another situation she might have been flattered. Another solider moved around to her right, they were beginning to circle her. The third soldier remained at the edge, next to her Mercenary.
The Solider next to her said something to his comrades and they laughed smuttily, that was her moment. Moving with lightning speed Sophia jerked her knee up between the soldier’s legs feeling a satisfying crunch and the man just fell away from her. Not wasting any time she quickly grabbed the hot pan off the fire and threw it towards the second Solider.
He instinctively grabbed at the pan and caught the hot metal in his bare hands. There was a brief sizzle then he howled in pain and dropped the pan to the ground. He turned and ran away, heading for the lake.
Which just left the third solider; Sophia knew she would have to deal with him before the first solider recovered enough to move. She spun around to where he had been and stopped dead, finding herself staring in to the barrel of his musket. It was aimed at her belly. She froze, her heart sinking. All was lost; all she could hope was that he would shoot and miss her and then she could close the distance between them quickly. But if he did not shoot he could just hold her at gun point till the groaning soldier at her feet recovered.
Sophia watched as the man’s thick lips pulled back over his yellow stumps of teeth, she shivered feeling cold for the first time. Then, without warning the man collapsed. As he fell forward onto the ground she saw her Mercenary standing behind him with a big grin.
He crouched down and pulled his short knife from the fallen soldiers back, then walked towards her.
“Aren’t you full of surprises Miss Cooper,” he said acting as if he was going to embrace her, or maybe take what he wanted from her as she now stood naked and exposed in front of him. He changed direction at the last moment and Sophia could not help feeling disappointed. She instantly berated herself for that thought.
The Mercenary bent down and picked up the leader of the soldiers by his uniform jacket, then carried the struggling French man out of the clearing leaving Sophia standing by the fire. She wrapped her arms around herself, wondering what she was getting herself into?
Later that same evening her Mercenary, or Anthony Debeaufort to give him his full name, sat quietly by the side of the fire contemplating this mysterious woman who had commissioned him. He had at first written her off as a typical spoiled military daughter. The girl considered herself to be the equal of her father, he had not expected her to make the journey this far. In fact he had deliberately taken the hardest route to test her resolve and to get rid of her.
Anthony could concede that Miss Cooper was pretty, albeit in an average sort of way. When he first met her he had not considered her special, she certainly was not his type. She was too tall and big for his tastes, plus he had also grown rather accustomed to the tanned Mediterranean women. The lean faces of the local whores had made quite an impression on his tastes. This Miss Cooper was certainly nothing like them. But then Miss Cooper was like no woman he had met before in his life. He was fairly certain he could have dealt with the three French Soldiers on his own, but he would not have been able to do it as easily as Miss Cooper. For sure he would have ended up with more bruises. The way she had moved was something to behold. She had been prepared to strip completely, knowing that he would see her more intimately than anyone in her life. She had not needed to do that for him, he knew he would have to find some way of thanking her.
He rubbed his cheek, his face covered in the early stages of a beard; he was handsome in an unfashionable way. His blond hair was slightly too long and pushed back over his head, he stood just over six foot tall, taller in his riding boots. He had a lean body tight after so many battles and skirmishes over the years.
He shook his head, even though she had saved him,
Miss Cooper was still an annoyance. It was really too dangerous for her to be on that mission and he could do without her smart comments. He rested his head against the tree whilst watching her moving about camp, he imagined those large breasts; they had looked so soft, he imagined how they would feel in his hands.
He fell asleep with a smile on his face imagining what it would be like to show Miss Sophia Cooper what a real man could do to her.
Two days later Anthony stretched his arms as much as his chains would allow. Rightly accused of desertion he had been locked up in the old Spanish fort which the British Army had recently commandeered. He was of course in the jail of the old fort, which he imagined had been used for such a purpose for at least three hundred years. He looked around himself; the dry dusty walls lit only by a small light high in the wall.The window was too high to be of any use to him as a means of escape.
The cell was possibly eight feet by eight feet wide, not a big cell but not a tiny one either.
The walls were made of thick old stone; he guessed that as they were in the base of the fort, the walls would be at least 10 feet thick. There was one door, a heavy wood one with metal banding; it had probably kept forlorn prisoners in this cell for hundreds of years. He found himself pacing the room as much as he could. His feet were in manacles and his wrists were shackled together and then attached the wall. He was half flattered by the extra restraints, it would seem no one was taking chances with him.
Anthony was not even sure that being in his own cell was a blessing or a curse, true he had been spared the stench of the other prisoners, but he had also been denied any chance of collaborating and devising a means of escape.
He could not help but laugh at how it had all worked out for him, such bad luck. Once again he told himself that he should have stuck to his gut reaction and walked away from Miss Sophia Cooper when he had been offered the chance, before she had involved him in her fool rescue mission and before he had found himself captured by the British Army.
Anthony found himself thinking of her, remembering how she looked naked in the clearing, fighting the two Frenchmen. Yes, despite himself and despite her being responsible for his current predicament he could not help but admire her. Few women would have embarked into such a mission.
Anthony shook his head, sentimentality would not help him now, he had thrown the dice and lost. He had been playing the game for so long that it was bound to happen eventually and now he would have no choice but to wait and see what punishment the army would give him. He wondered if he still had any influential friends that might speak on his behalf, or whether having succeeded in Miss Sophia Cooper’s rescue mission would count in his favour.
All he could do was wait for his military court hearing, then he would find out whether he would be court marshalled in disgrace, flogged as a common solider would be, or maybe shot for desertion. None of the options sounded appealing.
Having freshly arrived in Spain, Miss Sophia Cooper took a deep breath and walked into the tavern. She clutched her purse tight in her hand and tried to walk as dignifiedly as she could. There would be no reason for a fine upstanding woman like her to enter such a place, but she did not have any other choice.
The same moment she entered the room, it fell silent. She stood in the doorway in her travelling dress; with her bonnet on her head she could not have stood out any more. Around the room were filthy looking men accompanied by even dirtier looking women, there was so much cleavage on display. It amused her to think that it was like the King’s court in that respect.
She recognised the man she was looking for, he sat at a table on his own, in front of him was a half-eaten chicken and a jug and glass. The glass was half full and he was looking straight at her. His eyes bored into her and seemed to know that she was here for him. Those eyes were unnerving but she could not look away.
Sophia walked towards the unshaven man in his odd mix of uniforms, all kinds of regiments and armies were represented in his clothes. As she began to walk towards him the conversation started up again and no one seemed to pay her any more attention.
“Well if it is not Lord Grantham’s bride to be,” he said surprising her by already knowing who she was, “And how can I help you?” his tone was crude and bored, he showed no real interest in her and after a quick glance his eyes turned to the chicken in front of him.
“I…” she paused, “I am Miss Cooper, and I wish to engage your services Sir,” she said as calmly as she could. This was her last chance.
“On a rescue mission I assume?” he said lazily, still not looking at her. Somehow he already knew,
“Please do not be surprised Miss Cooper, I had been informed you were looking for me, hence I have allowed you to find me. However I suspect that my colleagues were a little too generous in their descriptions of your beauty. I find you plain at best, and yet you no doubt consider yourself beautiful.”
“Sir, I find your insults intolerable, I have done nothing to warrant such abuse, if you do not consider my money good enough to buy your services then please allow me to leave before you feel it necessary to insult me further,” she said feeling hurt, first Percy and now this man.
“I will take your money, but you will pay me now, after all what good will the money be to me if I am dead. Ten pounds will buy my services for your rescue mission and I will return your father to you when I am finished.”
“You must take me for a fool sir, I will be accompanying you, if you want my money then you will have to take me. I am well versed in riding and shooting. I am easily the match for any man,” Sophia said forcefully.
“Prove it,” he said producing a shiny clean duelling pistol from under the table, he pointed at a tankard at the end of a table at the far side of the room. A distance she reckoned of about fifteen feet. “If you can hit that tankard you can come.”
Sophia confidently took the duelling pistol from his hand and pulled back the hammer. She cast her eye over the weapon. She had to hide her smile when she noticed the barrel was rifled. The rifling on the barrel would put a spin on the ball and give it a greater accuracy. This would be an easy shot.
Without saying a word and ignoring everyone in the room, Sophia sighted the tankard and pulled the trigger. The shot echoed round the room surprising anyone who had been minding their own business. When the powder smoke cleared the tankard was gone.
With all eyes in the room now on her, she handed him the pistol, then pushed a small purse into his lap.
“That is five pounds, I expect you at my lodgings at 6 tomorrow morning and we will begin our journey. Good day to you Sir.”
Anthony Debeaufort turned the warm pistol over in his hands as he watched the mysterious woman leave the tavern. He certainly had not been expecting that. This was going to be an interesting mission, he thought to himself before beginning to drain his jug of wine.
The day before she had left England Miss Sophia Cooper had stood dumbfounded outside her uncle’s study door; she knew she would soon be called in, after all she had heard every word that had been said.
Her father was a captive of the French, he had had been caught by the French, with weapons and a vast some of gold . She did not want to believe it, but that was what the man in his far too smart uniform had just said.
As there had been no official reason for them to have been so close to French forces with the gold and weapons, it had been surmised that they had been working on their own behalf. As such there would be no rescue attempt by the British Army and there would also be no ransom paid.
Sophia did not wait to be called in the office; she headed straight to her room as fast as she could run to open the letter her father had pressed into her hand the day he left. Before he had left he said if there was any trouble to open the letter, but if he returned safely she would be expected to hand it back still sealed.
She ripped open the letter and read its contents quickly. After she had finished she sat back on the bed and took a few deep breaths, then reached for the bell to summon her maid. She would need to do some travelling, first to London to get her father’s money and then to Spain on the first ship on which she could obtain passage.
As she awaited the maid she glanced at the letter, which explained everything. Her father was attempting to obtain information about the French forces posing as a man with few morals about making money. The letter went on to detail that if anything went wrong the British command would denounce him and he would be considered a traitor. If that happened she was to take the money he held in a London bank in her name and she was to organise a rescue or prisoner exchange. Her father explained that she would be able to use her fiancé Lord Percy to speak to Wellington to arrange all that.
Her chest filled with pride, her father had trusted her to arrange his safe release. He could not have bestowed on her a higher praise. She would finally see Spain and the vast armies of Lord Wellington she had heard so much about.
Sophia was also excited about seeing Percy, her fiancé, once more. She could not wait to see the surprise on his face.
It took longer to see his face than she imagined.
She tapped her foot on the grass, attempting to vent the tension. She had been there since 10 at least and it was now past lunchtime. Lord Grantham, better said her fiancée, wanted to make her wait. Sitting outside of a tent waiting to be received by him was humiliating.
An attendee walked out of the tent and nodded in her direction “Miss Cooper” indicating the entrance. She rushed inside, sure to be close to the solution of her troubles.
Lord Grantham was sitting on a sofa, smoking his pipe with his usual haughty look.
“Miss Cooper,” She started to think she could hate that name, for it had been pronounced so many times and it had never brought her closer to the end of this nightmare.
“Percy, my father…” she did not get to finish the sentence as he stopped her with a wave of his hand
“I know, I know already” he took time. “What are you here for Miss Cooper? I supposed it was obvious that our to marry is no longer valid and you should return to England very soon.”
“What?” she stared at him in disbelief “How dare you? With all they have done for England!”
Lord Grantham stood up, his thin figure in direct contrast with Sophia’s full figure.”For England,” he said, taking his time, “your father is a spy and you are just a traitor’s daughter. The only thing you can do is go back home and plea to the Parliament for mercy, if they will be so merciful to receive you, Miss Cooper,” he pronounced hastily. “You are now worth less than a hanging noose, your title and dowry will be wiped
“You can go now, Miss Cooper” he ended.
“It will not end here Percy and you know that already” she was furious, her insides were churning and boiling but there was nothing she could do, so she stormed out of the tent just overhearing him say, “Have a good day Miss Cooper.”
Hours after the Frenchmen had run from the clearing Anthony and Sophia were once more alone. Anthony’s eyes stopped on her jaw and then slipped on the sweet line to her chin and back to her lips. She took a sip of tea, he stared her lips opening and softly closing on the edge of the cup.
“What a view” he thought, picturing that sweet mouth on him.”I was thinking, Miss Cooper” he cleared his voice “Why were you so desperate to seek help from a bad reputed man like me rather than your own fiancé? Not that I do not like the money but I assume he would have been a better choice.”
Sophia looked at him over her cup, reflecting on how to answer. Percy’s rejection was still burning inside her, more for how he had treated her than the fact no marriage was going to happen. “He has decided to steer clear from this issue.”
“And you” he added.
Her eyes rested on his beard, examining the line of his mouth and trying to guess if he was teasing her.
Noticing her attention he continued “Do not think you are the only one who has been rejected, Miss Cooper. Things rarely go as planned.” Their eyes met, as if they could read each other’s thoughts, and Sophia wrapped herself tighter in her blanket. He noticed her cup was empty and crawled closer to fill it up. “The night is cold.”
“It is,” she confirmed and closed her eyes as his lips touched hers. Lightly as a feather they brushed against each other. He put the kettle down and his hand caressed her face. Starting behind the ear, he rolled her blonde hair between his fingers and their lips brushed again.
His touch was so soft yet the intensity of the feeling could have made her scream, if she just did not want that so much. Her heartbeat increased, feeling a rush of blood to her cheeks Sophia returned an inviting smile. Anthony needed no more encouragement than that to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight, finally feeling the soft roundness of her breasts against his chest.
She gasped in his arms and her lips looked for his, in the dark night they encountered each other’s and kissed deeply. His teeth took a hold of her lower lip and sucked it hard, his tongue then explored every corner of her mouth and she felt his pleasure through his clothes. There was no more denying the attraction she would have never willingly admitted, it was too late when her fingers caressed his head, just as his were fumbling with her buttons, tearing one or two to get to her skin.
Lovely scented woman, even in a camp she could smell good. The soft skin under his fingers reacted at his exploration with a thrill. His manhood was swelling in his trousers and he wanted her more and more. They rolled in the grass, drunk in each other’s passion and their eyes joined again, “She will push me off” he thought. But no, she had never looked more available and welcoming.
He inhaled more of her scent and it got to his head, the urge growing stronger, in a matter of seconds her lovely breasts were in his hands.
Full, soft with almost no firmness, in close sight they were even better than the vision he had before. He tasted one, the tip of his tongue leaving a wet trace around part of the large areola. It was like tasting the sweetest honey.
She quivered, another thrill running down her spine and he responded by squeezing her breast.
They were so extravagant, just like the rest of her body. He wanted more and moved down, unbuttoning her clothes and revealing her body inch by inch until she laid naked and ready. So many women had been before him just like Sophia but none of them was a suitable comparison.
Surprised herself to feel no embarrassment Sophia parted her legs with a desperate need of extinguishing the fire he had lit inside her. He jumped on her like a thirsty man in the desert who has seen water. Abundantly drunk in her female scents, his hands explored her body.
Her legs, long and voluptuously parted invited him to kiss their centre. She arched her back again experiencing forbidden pleasure, being touched where she had never before. His tongue circled around her rosebud then sucked it with eagerness, thirsty to drink her juices. A moan escaped her lips and a finger entered her wet fissure, feeling the membrane that divided them he moved around with soft touch, without forcing yet feeling her muscles contracting, ready for more. His fingers slipped out and massaged her rosebud, laying on top of her their tongues engaged again in their passionate dance and she rocked her hips.
With her eyes closed she bit her lips and let the passion take over, another fire arose from between her legs, with his expert touch he brought her to the peak. Her long fingers clawed the grass under them, for a moment there was nothing else in the world than their two bodies, clinging hard, panting heavily, relieving each its own fire.
His manhood had grown incredibly swollen, needing relief soon but it was not to come yet. She was laying under him, her eyes closed, eyebrows perfectly relaxed and a fulfilled expression in her face. He could be in her in a matter of moments, he could be buried to the hilt in her, beneath her fine blonde hair she was wetter than he had ever seen a woman. For an instant he imagined her soft breasts flopping around her chest as he banged into her. How her mouth would hang open, her whole body mercy to him. How dearly he had wanted to take her and make her a woman, so much it hurt. But he could not do it to her; despite himself he liked Sophia too much to treat her like the whore she seemed so content to be.
“One day” he panted, fighting to regain control on his body “this will be the gift to your husband. But may he not be Grantham or I will kill him with my own hands” he whispered into her ear.
She was staring at him puzzled, he felt a bit embarrassed to have let his disdain for the high-ranked man transpire. “You had better put your clothes on and get to sleep. It will not be long before dawn and we have a long day ahead of us, ” he said, standing up and walking out of camp, towards the nearby river.
Sophia wrapped herself in her blanket and did not try to reach for her clothes, still enjoying the feeling of his body on hers. She laid on her side, by the fire and the memory rocked her into a sweet sleep.
The next morning smoke drifted up lazily from the large building in which Miss Sophia Cooper’s father was being kept. Miss Sophia Cooper, now dressed in male clothing, which seemed to fit her in a most breath-taking way, had entered the small town in the early hours of the morning with her Mercenary. The town was quiet; the sleepy sentries had let them pass with a nod assuming that they were civilians returning from a hunting trip.
The house had been easy to find, it was the largest in town and unfortunately the one with the most horses in its stables, Anthony had counted fifteen, whichmeant at least fifteen men would be inside the house. That would be one man and a woman against the fifteen of them, Anthony did not much like those odds. However it was early and they had the element of surprise on their side.
“Miss Cooper, I think what is best is if I create a diversion out here, you can enter the building through the main door and find your father. Though
I suspect it might be better if you wear your dress once more rather than these clothes,” he said firmly to her.
“Do you seriously think that you can hold off fifteen men on your own,” she asked with a frown.
He was impressed once more; she had also counted the number of horses in the stable and reached the same conclusion.
“They will take a while to work out where my shots are coming from, I will make sure I move around and with your rifle and mine I will have five to use, you can take my pistol and knife,” he said with a smile. “When you have your father do not wait for me, I will meet you back at the clearing, I know you can find your way back there. If I am not back by midday then head back to the British lines as best you can.”
About fifteen minutes later Sophia paced nervously in her dress in the small alley way next to the house. She clutched the pistol in one hand and had the knife hidden under her dress, then the first of the shots rang out from the rear of the house. There was silence for a few moments and then the shouting started.
Seizing her moment she ran screaming to the front door of the house and banged on it as hard as she could. “Help me,” she screamed, “The English are here,” in French.
The door opened and she was in.
The French man who opened the door did not see her knee coming at all. He realised something was amiss when he felt the thud of the knee impacting into his groin and then he was down on the ground. She kicked him in the chin and he stopped struggling.
Sophia stopped and listened, she had to work out where her father was being held. As a gentleman he would probably be allowed free reign of the house and knowing him, he would be in the library.
Sophia heard shots at the back of the house, then a crackle of gun fire followed by shouts in French, there was a general commotion.
She looked at the doorways; she would have to quickly assess which way to go, which doors would she need to take to get to her father? The library would most likely be on the South side of the house to get the most light, so that would be the right side. Sophia made the choice and threw open the door.
Outside in the barn Anthony picked up the fourth pre-loaded rifle, he carefully aimed it at the French Officer leaning out of the ground floor window who was yelling something in French at his men cowering in the door way. The soldiers in the doorway clearly did not fancy crossing the ground between the house and the stable block. They knew they would be easy pickings for Anthony even if their officer did not.
Anthony’s lips curled tightly as he sighted on the French Officer, like so many of his kind they were happy to send men to their deaths from safety but not so keen to lead the charge themselves. He brought the rifle to bear and gently squeezed the trigger.
The rifled gun kicked back into his shoulder and discharged the spinning ball of metal which hurtled across the distance between the two men. The man in the window looked confused for a moment and then collapsed.
Anthony was fairly certain the men in the doorway smiled and he quickly began reloading his rifles.
Sophia had been right, her father had been in the library, but he was not alone. Standing next to him was a French Major in full uniform. The officer had been surprised to see her; he had been even more surprised to find a loaded pistol pointed at his chest.
Without wasting any time Sophia gave her father the pistol and then proceeded to tie the French man unceremoniously to a chair.
When she was finished Sophia and her father left the library and headed out of the house as fast as they could. As they left there was a barrage of shots at the back of the house and Sophia found herself hoping that her Mercenary would be alright.
Anthony had thought that he should just leave Sophia and her father alone to cover for the last few miles to the base. His work for her was complete and he could once more slip into the countryside to continue his profitable work as a mercanary.
However, his luck had run out. He had probably used it all whilst causing the distraction at the French house.
About five miles from the British Camp they had met a small group of British Calvary. He was just about to slip away when the Captain of the group had recognised him. If he had been alone he could have run for it, he could have fought, but with Sophia present there was nothing he could do.
After the short ride back into camp they all dismounted. Two soldiers stood either side of Anthony.
“It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance Miss Cooper,” he said, no more in his rough voice.
She looked at him in shock, not recognizing the voice that had just come from him, all of a sudden he sounded educated.
“Lord Tavistock would be ashamed of you, you bring shame to your father,” the Captain of the Calvary standing between them said.
“Consider our agreement settled Miss Cooper,” Anthony said ignoring the officer and with smiling as he was taken away.
Her father looked with disgust at Anthony and then he turned back the small building in which they were to be staying.
“Come in Captain,” her father said to the Officer over his shoulder, “I have a lot to talk to you about.”
She reached and grabbed the Captain’s arm before he could follow her father in to the small building.
“Who was that man? You said he was the son of a Lord?” she asked referring to Anthony. Could this man who had been taunting her for days actually be a man of breeding. Despite herself she had become attached to him, she had started hating him and what he stood for, but now there was something else, something deeper. Several times earlier she had caught herself gazing at him on the ride here. How could she forget what had happened in the clearing.
“He was a Lieutenant once. They say his father lost a vast fortune on the turn of a card and left the whole family penniless, it was all kept quiet of course but you know how camp rumours spread. Apparently he became discontent with remaining a Lieutenant for the rest of his life and set himself up as a solider for hire. Luckily he seems to only work with us, I for one would not want to go against him,” the Captain said looking after the Mercenary being led away by the two red coated soldiers.
“What will happen to him?” she asked as her eyes also followed the departing group.
“Depends on how important his friends are, could be a flogging or a firing squad,” the Captain said then turned to look at her, “When I have finished conversing with your father I will take you back to Lord Grantham, I imagine you and he will have a lot to talk about, especially as your father has now been cleared.”
She looked back at Captain, and then to the floor. Her world felt empty all of a sudden.
Night had fallen in Anthony’s cell. He looked up from his slight daze as the heavy door pushed open. It was opened quietly, not with the force of the jailer. It was as if the person was trying to sneak in. This was going to be interesting he thought to himself, probably another one of Wellington’s spy masters offering him a deal to save his skin. Or perhaps just a different jailer coming to fish for information, and eventually torture him?
Either way he was going to be ready, in the moments before the door opened fully his mind flashed back to Miss Cooper, he wondered if she had been worth all of this. She was probably lying in a warm thick bed at this moment. He cleared his mind and focused.
“Sir, if you mean to enter the room without my noticing then you have already failed.” he said quietly. In the dark, he could only see a large hooded figure. The door closed behind the figure.
“Shut up” a female voice ordered from under the hood. The voice surprised him, he had been ready for most things but a female voice was not one of them. He did not recognise it, his hope flared for a moment that this might be a rescue attempt, but then there were not many men who would try and rescue him, and there were even fewer women who might attempt it.
“A female jailer, Wellington is always doing the unexpected,” he mused out loud shaking his head.
“Oh,” the voice sounded surprised “After all we have been through you cannot even recognize my voice? You are a strange man indeed! Maybe I should just go away then and…” she left the sentence unfinished.
“Miss Cooper, is that you?” he asked his smile fading and his shock becoming audible in his voice. His heart beat increased; he was pleased to see her. Though why would she be here now, to taunt him perhaps? He had not considered her to be so cruel.
“Of course it is me,” she finished his doubts with a no-nonsense tone “Which other woman would step here?” she paused before asking “Did they decide your fate?”
“Miss Cooper, I am surprised most of all that you would step here, I thought after my arrest you would no longer need or want anything to do with me.” Anthony said hoping the hurt was not too evident in his voice. “But my fate, no, I have had no word of that. I expect to find out at the last possible moment as Military tradition decrees,” he said looking up to the high window in the cell.
“My father is not talking to me, and despite what we have done for them they have locked you up and are ignoring me. I have asked him to do something for you but he claims there is no way,” she said biting her lip. “I assume they will keep you here until trial. If they have not judged you already and we just do not know. However, I am here to give you my last present.”
“Your last present?” he said looking at her raising an eyebrow, “I thought our deal was concluded, I have received the ten pounds we agreed upon.” He looked to the floor.
“You forget we have left something unfinished from that night in front of the fire,” she paused and started to untie her cape. “I am guessing you would not want to know what you had given up will be taken by Percy, now that my family has been redeemed,” the cape moved and showed some flesh.
“You did seem interested, at the time,” she concluded.
“You are once more betroved to that weasel Percy?” he gasped in shock, paying more attention to the words rather than the brief flash of naked flesh.
“I would have thought you had more sense Miss Cooper!”
“There is little sense in this, you should not be surprised. Breaking any engagement will cause a lot of talking in Society, there is no reason to do that and start up a scandal. Considering we have also been alone and unchaperoned for so long the scandal would spread uncontrolled. If they just knew…” she paused, uncovering another bit of the flesh of her shoulders, “…that you are unable to finish what you have started.” She was teasing him, he thought to himself.
“Miss Cooper, are you offering me the chance to take something that belongs to Percy? Are you offering me the chance to finish what I started and ruin something that should be a prize for him alone?” he said for the first time noticing her bare shoulders. Could she perhaps be naked he asked himself?
“It does not belong to Percy yet. But it will and he will find it exactly as he expects.”
Her hand touched his unshaven cheek, even in the dark cell he could feel the heat radiating from her body. The heavy fluttering sound of clothes falling on the floor attracted his attention but he fought valiantly to focus.
“I am afraid I do not understand you Miss Cooper, what is it that you are asking me to finish if you say he will find you as he expects?” he asked as he felt her soft warm hand on his rough cheek.
Anthony could not help his eyes falling to her chest despite his confusion this damned woman was once more toying with him.
Her lips landed a kiss on his chin, then moving closer she whispered into his ear
“Do not tell me you do not know, even a naive clueless virgin like me knows there is just the backdoor to save what belongs to Percy,” she said as her other hand moved down on his trousers, looking for the eager hardness she expected to be there.
There was, in fact, the rigid manhood pressing inside his clothes. He was tempted to move back, unwilling to reveal just how keen he was to slide inside her. But still, the feeling of her hands on him was too much to push her away. So relieving yet so exciting was her touch, an appetizer for more. In silence her hands moved on his belt just as if she was not the shy virgin he had once considered her to be. His trousers fell on the floor and in the dimmly lit cell his cock sprang up, already glistening wet.