THE Marquis's Mistress: Historical Fiction

CHAPTER 16

Natasha tiptoed upstairs, removed Benedict’s coat and the mangled dress.  She folded Benedict’s coat neatly and hid it in her drawer.  She would return that on Monday.  As for the soiled gown, Natasha ripped it to shreds and took it down stairs, and buried it deep with the rest of the rubbish.  She carried two buckets of hot water upstairs and scrubbed off every trace of Randal’s filthy touch everywhere on her body.  Natasha had just climbed into bed, when she heard Crystal’s soft knock on the window.

‘Crystal what is wrong?’ Natasha smiled, ignoring her own traumatic situation, upon seeing her step sister’s scowl.

‘Bloody Lord Benedict,’ she hissed with annoyance.

‘Firstly mind your language.  What about Lord Benedict.’

‘There was a handsome gentleman there, who offered to bring me home, but no,’ Crystal drew out dramatically.  ‘He insisted his groom should bring me to the cottage, and let me confess,’ Crystal sighed, ‘I wanted very much to be accompanied by that gentleman.’ 

Natasha remained quiet.   She thought it wise that Benedict ensured Crystal returned home safely, after her own very narrow escape.

‘Are you okay?’ Crystal placed her arm around Natasha’s shoulder as they walked upstairs.

‘Yes,’ I am just tired.’ Natasha replied.  She was still trembling and in shock after so nearly being raped, but she was not going to be confiding in Crystal about that.  Natasha was just pleased Crystal got home safely and had not suffered the same fate she had.

‘It was a lovely party,’ Crystal babbled on and on.  Except Lord Benedict looked more like he was at a funeral, instead of his own engagement party.  What a drag, I would hate to be Lady Louisa.’

‘Why?’

‘Honestly, before I got to know him, I thought he was an attractive gentleman.  Well now that we have mixed a few times, I cannot for the life of me, understand what Lady Louisa sees in him.  I mean he is so boringly unsociable, and he always has that brooding unapproachable expression on his face.’

‘You are wrong,’ Natasha defended him.  ‘He can be sociable and he is kind and polite.’

‘What would you know?’ Crystal stabbed her elbow into Natasha’s side, ‘You always have your mouth zipped, and you never ever say a word whenever he comes here.’

‘That hurts,’ Natasha rubbed her side.  ‘Even if I donot speak, it does not alter the fact that he is kind and pleasant.  I have witnessed it whenever he visited the duke.’

‘I guess he has a poor opinion of me because I was not a very good nurse, Natasha.’

You are not a very good seamstress either, so where exactly do your talents lie?’ Natasha grinned.

‘In the bedroom,’ Crystal whispered and laughed.

‘Be quiet.  You will wake up father or your mother,’ Natasha blushed, all embarrassed.

‘Oh Natasha you are such a killjoy,’ Crystal giggled.  ‘I suppose you are still a virgin too.’

‘What if I am not?’ Natasha challenged.

‘Then I am still a virgin,’ Crystal laughed.

‘Good night Crystal,’ Natasha blew out the candle on her night table.

It was nine o’ clock in the morning.  It was a beautiful sunny day.  Daniel had taken Ben out on his new horse.  Sophie was in her bed chamber, busy with whatever kept her very busy in the privacy of her bed chamber.  Crystal was still not yet downstairs.  Natasha had just finished helping Cook, make porridge.  She had stacked up toast on a plate, and fried the strips of bacon already.  She was about to start with the eggs when she caught sight of the Brinley coach, with the Crowcombe coat of arms proudly emblazoned on its door.