Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(101)

The Countess smiled. “I begin to understand why Geoffrey is besotted with you. You learn quickly. I do hope he has taught you that once earned, punishments must always be given.” She swung the ball again. “Yes, Geoffrey did not understand that we are meant to be together, and so I must teach him. I may let you join in, too; there is attraction in such an arrangement. From the first time your husband set his crop to my ass, I knew he was the one. But then he left, and all because I chose the wrong plaything. He didn’t even give me a chance to explain. He refused me, and that must not be allowed. Punishment must come to those who misbehave so that they can learn for the next time.

“Now tell me, do you prefer a ball gag or a ring? I normally like a ball, but I have some interest in working a dildo between those lips while I wait. I wonder just how deep that throat can open. Has Geoffrey—oh, I see from your face that he has; and yet, you still do not understand me. Has he never taken out his toys for you? Would you like me to show you what I mean?” The Countess turned as if to walk back to the chest of drawers. “But no, I promised you a punishment, and I should not delay too long.”

Louisa closed her eyes and prayed for salvation. She knew there was no hope of rescue—nobody knew where she was going—but still she silently prayed, Please come find me, Geoffrey. Please do not let this happen.

“I think the ball gag after all. I can always change it later if the play goes that way.” The Countess grabbed a handful of Louisa’s hair, wrenching her head back violently. Fingers jabbed into her cheeks, forcing her mouth open, and then the ball was there, forced back between her teeth, choking her, no longer in any way a child’s toy, the strap pulled tight behind her head.

“How pretty you look.” The Countess smiled again and patted her cheek. “I do hope you realize that is not your punishment.” She opened her hand and held out two clips with sharp-toothed edges. “They are pretty, and they will adorn your breasts so nicely. I shouldn’t really call them a punishment—later you will know them for a treat—but for the moment I think they shall be quite effective. Oh, and tears already. Geoffrey always liked tears, and I must admit to having developed quite a taste for them. And those wide, expressive eyes. I do so love that glint of fear and terror. If your tongue were free I might allow you to lick my cunt—it is quite brimming for you. Have you ever licked another woman’s honey? It can be a little off-putting at first, but I promise you will come to enjoy it.”

Moving to Louisa’s side, the Countess reached down and grasped one of her breasts, her fingers settling about the nipple. “And you haven’t even asked the big question, asked why we are waiting and who I am dressing you up for. Your husband is coming. Yes, I have invited sweet Geoffrey, and I am sure he will be here soon. Oh, I do see that that delights you. Now, let’s get you all ready.”

Louisa screamed against the gag as the clamp bit into her.





Chapter Thirty





She was nowhere to be found. Surely even if she had left him there would have been some trace, some note. He might not know his wife as well as he would have liked, but Swanston was sure that she would never wish to cause such worry. Even in the greatest of furies she would have let him know that she was gone, and probably where to.

He’d tried everyone and every place he could think of. He’d had all the coach yards checked and even now had riders heading out to Brookingston’s home to see if she could have returned there. He’d probably send a man to Risusgate as well.

At present, however, it still appeared that she had vanished into the air. He paced across his library for the hundredth time that evening, wishing for some answer to his prayers.

“She will be found,” Duldon said from his seat by the empty hearth. “Ladies do not simply disappear.”

“Not that we know of, but if they just disappeared would we know …”

“Now you are just being dismal. It is bound to be some simple explanation, as it was with your sister. Perhaps she left a note and it got misplaced, or perhaps she simply forgot.”

“Louisa does not forget. It is one of the things that I am most fond of about her. She is almost as well ordered as I. If she meant to leave me a note she would have, and she would have left it someplace it would be found.”

Duldon rolled his eyes with great emphasis. “No wonder you like the woman. I thought it might have something to do with a lovely face and sweet nature, but you probably appreciate how she folds her kerchiefs and that she always has breakfast at the same hour.”

“No, we’ve been rising late recently,” Swanston said, adding his own brand of emphasis to the words. He tried to smile, but knew it fell flat; hiding the worry that ate at his guts was impossible.

There was a loud rap on the door.

“Enter,” he called.

The porter entered, carrying a silver tray on which lay a stiff white envelope. “A lad just dropped this at the door, said it was from a lady.”

Without bothering with an answer, Swanston grabbed the envelope and ripped it open.

“Well?” Duldon stood and walked over. “Is your wife dining with friends?”

Swanston dropped the note to his desk. “I would not say that. It’s from the Countess. She is inviting me to a private party.”

Duldon stalked to the window. “Ignore it then. It is not the time to even consider what to do about that woman.”