The Baron and the Mistress Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  The Baron And The Mistress

  Karyn Gerrard

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  The Baron and the Mistress

  Copyright © 2015 by Karyn Gerrard

  ISBN: 978-0-9940769-0-8

  Cover art by © Cora Graphics

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by KG Publishing

  ~Dedication~

  To my live-in hero, who encourages me every step of the way in my publishing journey. Thank you as always. Much love.

  Big thanks to Cora Graphics for the beautiful cover and to writing pal, Gayl Taylor, for the support and formatting.

  Chapter One

  London, 1889

  Chastity Armitage’s given name could be construed as ironic considering she was a pinchcock looking for a quick-shilling-tup in Shag Alley.

  Thick fog rolled down the lane covering its broken cobbles with ugly swirls of sickly color. The pungent aroma of unburned streetlamp gas mixed with the odor of raw sewage, blending with the sound of rutting sex from the alleyway. Chastity gagged and brought her tattered sleeve to her nose for relief. She gripped the nearby lamppost to steady her shaky legs. In truth, she wasn’t a prostitute in the strictest sense of the word just a desperate young woman. Or so she told herself late at night when her demons came calling. Losing her virginity two months ago to a rough laborer against a brick wall in the notorious alley had been an absolute necessity. The act, mercifully swift, resulted in a few coins thrown at her feet which kept her younger brother and sister from starving and from all of them being evicted from the dosshouse where they currently resided.

  How did everything go wrong? A trail of unfortunate events led her to this place and time. Where to begin? Her father’s death and her mother’s rapid—and it turned out, necessary—remarriage. Her mother’s sudden illness and passing. Then—The escape.

  A carriage rattled by, splashing mud on her already dirty wool skirt. Two men staggered toward her and made lewd comments as they passed a whisky bottle back and forth between them. Chastity looked away and exhaled in utter weariness. Blocking out the foul sights and odors swirling all around her, she focused instead on her current predicament.

  Close to two years ago Chastity along with her siblings, Jon and Hannah, fled their home in the dead of night. Chastity agonized many times since wondering if she’d made the right decision. Ten months before they made their getaway everything changed after her mother died. Their sudden departure was due to being left in the care of their stepfather, Sir Nigel Barrington, who made no secret of his deviant plans for them. Protecting then eleven-year-old Jon and eight-year-old Hannah became Chastity’s life. Especially Jon. She’d seen the lustful looks cast Jon’s way. Memories of the night Barrington skulked into Jon’s bedroom flooded her mind causing her to shudder. Thank God she beat the man off with a copper warming pan. They escaped that night with not much more than the clothes on their backs, and sadly, no family or close friends to turn to. Luckily she had a valuable gold cross around her neck and later bartered it for much needed coin.

  Chastity pulled the tattered shawl around her shoulders and shuddered, touching the bare spot at her throat as a few hot tears clustered on her eyelashes. Blinking them back, she frowned. Her parents gave her the cross with the small diamond chip for her twelfth birthday and how she hated to part with it. But the coin from the sale kept them fed and housed for a good long time. Since then, Jon made a few farthings doing odd jobs about the streets and Hannah sporadically worked for a ragpicker. These low-paying positions weren’t enough to keep the wolf from the door. The workhouse beckoned. Sniffling, she wiped away a wayward tear. They would have been separated at the workhouse and the sole reason she didn’t take them there in the first place. The looming specter of Barrington finding them also fueled her decision. It would be the first logical place to look.

  However, the evil man almost certainly didn’t care where they were or what became of them. The rank indifference he showed them while their mother lived spoke of the depth of his disdain. When her mother passed, the barrier crashed down. The change in the man had not been subtle. At first, he plied them with kindness and extra sweets. He started touching them, little caresses of affection that were not the least bit innocent. But then Barrington cast his fevered and lascivious gaze toward Jon who could be considered the best-looking of the siblings. Jon, a pretty lad, would grow into a handsome man; all the signs were plain to see. Every chance he could, Barrington would stroke Jon’s cheek whispering how beautiful he was. It’d been enough to turn her bile.

  One night, Barrington pulled Jon into his lap. The special attention he paid Jon made her skin crawl. Chastity, not very experienced in the ways of men at the time, instinctively understood the leering, salacious look Sir Nigel gave Jon. He stroked Jon’s back with his claw-like hand then moved lower, a strange and disturbing light gleaming in his eye. When Jon told her later that night he felt something growing hard in their stepfather’s lap, she began to make plans for their hasty departure.

  A girl at school told her once of a man’s “thing”, and how a man could stick it in your hole and make a baby. She surmised the “thing” could be shoved into any hole, boy or girl. No one would harm her siblings if Chastity had anything to say about it. Since then, she learned the words used for that part of a man. Cock. Prick. Willy. Tackle. Whore-pipe.

  Straightening her shoulders, she glanced about the dingy, dark street. Her resolve quickened and hardened into sword steel. Money was needed to ward off the slimy toad of a landlord at the dosshouse. He leeringly suggested she work off the rent. Chastity preferred a swift rut in Shag Alley than let that horrid man with the rotten teeth and who smelled of dead fish lay a hand on her. Once she succumbed to his demands he would never leave her alone. Virtue and pride be damned, protecting her siblings overrode everything. Everything.

  ***

  Asher Colborne, Baron of Wenlock, had a successful night of gaming. With his winnings tucked away in his coat, he decided to celebrate the only way that would satisfy him. After a victorious night of cards he often came for a quick fuck in the infamous Shag Alley. A hard and fast tup would be his end purpose tonight. After that, he wasn’t sure what he would do. Go to his club for more games of chance perhaps? Luck was on his side. Or he could confound the Gods and head to his townhouse and make an early night of it.

  Moving aside the curtain, he glanced out into the street. Must be getting close, the air grew st
agnant. Rotten food, human waste, and dirty bodies mixed together to create a toxic assault on his olfactory system. Through the swirling London fog his eyes were drawn to a figure leaning against a streetlamp. A young woman. An attractive young woman.

  “Stop the carriage!” He yelled as he banged his walking stick on the roof until the coach halted. He couldn’t believe his eyes. What the bloody hell is she doing loitering about Shag Alley?

  The distant but never quite forgotten memories flickered through his mind. An insignificant ball at the Earl of Dunham’s posh estate more than two years past is where he’d first seen her. Chastity—Armitage. Yes, that was her name. Ash had fallen deeply in lust at first sight. The young woman’s luminescent beauty lit up the entire ballroom. Her golden honey-brown hair had been exquisitely styled and her cranberry colored silk gown caressed lush curves which gave him an impressive cockstand for most of the night. Chastity Armitage possessed the face of an innocent angel, but he’d also seen the teasing gleam in her eye and the animation in her expressions. She would be a passionate thing in bed. He would wager on it. Lively and attractive, yet she did not act like the rest of the giggling, simpering misses. A quiet intelligence and dignity radiated from her. He’d been utterly captivated. By the supper dance his feelings encompassed far more than the carnal.

  Chastity departed the ball before he could secure a formal introduction, but two weeks later Ash cajoled his father to broach the subject with Sir Nigel Barrington, her stepfather and guardian. Barrington had recently been knighted for one thing or another and he couldn’t recall for what, but this gave reason for the man’s appearance at the exclusive ball. The crushing disappointment in learning Chastity relocated to a remote part of Northern Scotland with her siblings, never to return, stayed with him for months. Eventually the girl faded from recent memory and into mist. The recollections came roaring back now along with his lust.

  Focusing on the young lady leaning against the lamppost, it became hard to reconcile they were the same person. If this slender stalk of a female turned out to be Chastity Armitage, she appeared a good deal thinner and dressed in a ghastly manner.

  Ash opened the carriage door and stepped down, not waiting for the driver’s assistance. Quite familiar with Shag Alley as were most young men in his social circle, he had no trouble navigating the crowded street. As he walked closer, the young woman glanced at him with wide greenish-brown eyes. Damn and blast, it is her! Masking his surprise, Ash stopped in front of her. Those beautiful hazel eyes flashed a brief show of fear. But what struck him was the profundity of weariness and misery swimming in their depths. The vital, sparkling girl he’d fallen for at the ball no longer existed. Good Christ, what has she been through? His gaze roved over her shivering, dressed-in-rags frame. Even though Chastity appeared slight, her lush curves were still apparent enough to send a flare of desire straight to his thickening cock.

  “Quick tup, guv’ner?”

  Bloody hell, perhaps it isn’t her. Ash’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Her accent sounded counterfeit and her skin, though pale, did not show a lifetime of strife and poverty. The lassitude looked to be of a more recent development. He would play along. “Nothing I do is quick, my sweet. I would, however, wish to hire you for the entire night. Shall we say—fifteen shillings?” Her jaw dropped open. Ash offered what amounted to a week’s salary for most laborers. He must have stunned the young woman into bewilderment for she remained silent. “Not in the alley. I will procure us a room. First, I believe, we shall eat. Come.”

  Ash held out his gloved hand. Chastity stared at it and then her gaze swept over his form, lingering on his formal attire. Shaking her head, she turned away. “Leave me alone.”

  Ah. The accent was a sham as she answered him in perfectly clipped and educated English. Ash reached for her hand and pulled her toward the waiting coach.

  ***

  Chastity could not believe she allowed the well-dressed gentleman to take her away in his carriage. They did not go far nor did they speak during the short journey. They both sat in a private room at The Pig and Whistle tavern. Her stomach rumbled. The man, who introduced himself as Ash and insisted she call him by that name, ordered beef stew, ale, and extra bread and cheese.

  Fifteen shillings? The obscene amount still rattled about in her bewildered brain. With proper planning the money would keep her and her brother and sister comfortable for some weeks. What in God’s name did he wish to do with her? Or to her? What perverse act would she be subjected to? His intense stare made her uncomfortable. This Ash was too handsome by far. After removing his hat and gloves, he ran his hand through his black-as-midnight hair. His eyes were the color of a fine cognac and the gleam of lust that shone from them sent waves of heat through her body. Ash removed his cloak. The silver lining appeared to be the finest silk. His tall frame was perfectly proportioned and how well it filled out the excellently tailored evening wear. A smartly tied silver cravat about his neck completed the look and he did look every inch the rake. Chastity caught a whiff of expensive cologne. The scent of bergamot and lemon invaded her nostrils. Her stomach dipped precipitously. Dear heaven, I find him attractive? Not wise. Chastity’s gaze darted about the small room trying to find a quick escape route.

  “What is your name, my sweet?”

  His voice was deep, resonant, and cultured. A sensual baritone as rich as melted dark chocolate. Should she give her name? What would it matter? “Chastity.”

  The man’s eyes widened briefly as he shifted in his seat, but his concentrated gaze did not waver. “Interesting choice of name for a prossie.”

  Fury boiled quick and hot in her veins. “It’s my real name and I’m not a...a...prossie!”

  The corner of his mouth quirked in amusement. “Of course not, even though you offered me a quick tup—for coin.”

  Chastity’s cheeks burned in humiliation. Before she could answer, the door burst open and the barmaid carried in a tray of foodstuffs. The tantalizing aroma of beef, grilled onions, and fresh bread made her salivate. For a meal such as this and fifteen shillings, she would agree to anything. And she would bet this arrogant, handsome man knew it.

  Chapter Two

  Chastity pulled out a tattered cloth from her sleeve, snatched pieces of bread and cheese, wrapped the cloth around them, and then set the bundle in her lap. Reaching for the spoon, she stole a glance at him. Obviously starving, she barely swallowed the stew before shoving in another portion. She made an effort to butter her bread slowly, but like the stew she shoveled it into her hungry mouth. Her stolen glances and her half-remembered table manners amused and saddened him, but he quickly pushed these sentiments aside.

  So many questions, yet Ash could speak none of them aloud. His heart hitched in his chest. He had one purpose for bringing her here: To fulfill all his lurid fantasies concerning Chastity Armitage. Why would she care, she was a whore. She no doubt was well versed in how to please a man and had done it many times. To her, he’d be nothing more than another customer. Since they were never properly introduced, they could share a tumble in the sheets, part ways, and he need never think of her again. Ash’s stiff cock twitched in response and thoroughly agreed with his assessment. “I have rented the room above for the night.” The spoon halted before her luscious mouth. Even observing her eat sent waves of lust cascading through him.

  Chastity laid the spoon on the table. “I would rather get on with it, then. The sooner it’s over with, the sooner I can leave.”

  Well, that slew my erection. “You’re hungry, eat. You will need the strength for what lies ahead.”

  Chastity met his gaze, her chin raised. “And what, pray tell, lies ahead?”

  Ash leaned forward. “I intend to fuck you as you have never been fucked before.”

  She shrugged in what seemed to be indifference. Nor did she flinch at his crass and vulgar words. “Seeing it only happened twice and the second time the man did not even stick it in me, bragging of your prowess means nothing.”

&nbs
p; Twice? Only twice? Ash began to feel uneasy. His conscience reared its insistent head again, blast it all to hell. So much for his arrogant assumption of vast sexual experience, but what else was he to think considering she stood at the head of Shag Alley and propositioned him. He reached for the ale and drank half of the beverage in one gulp.

  Chastity stood. “I’m ready.”

  Ash smirked and put aside conscious thought. The chit acted as if she were about to be led to the guillotine. Might as well take her to the room because he needed a woman and it might as well be this one. He glanced into her near empty bowl and with a careless shrug, reached for his hat and cloak. “Very well, come with me.”

  The room above stairs was not much to speak of. Ash assumed it was used many times for such assignations. The interior of the room had certainly seen better days. Various layers of wallpaper were visible on the walls. The ceiling paint peeled and water dripped from under the worn, wood beams. An unpleasant musky scent hung heavy in the air. Ash walked to the bed, pulled back the blanket and recoiled. They obviously had not been changed and the dried pools of semen on them were recent. With a shudder of revulsion, he tore off the threadbare sheets and tossed them to the floor.

  As he turned to face Chastity, she walked toward him and then sunk to her knees. Nimbly, she unfastened the fall of his trousers, reached in, and closed her fist around his erect prick. Ash’s breath seized in his chest and all rational thought and verbosity fled. Blood rushed to his cock and it grew large in her hand.

  “I’ve never done this before, but I’ve seen the act performed many times in the alley. Men seem to like it.”

  Like it? I bloody well love it. No words could describe the sensation of a woman’s warm, sultry mouth closing about his shaft. Ash tried to say something—anything—but he could not speak. Instead, he leaned back against the wall in lustful anticipation.