26 comments/ 163815 views/ 232 favorites Carnal Knowledge Ch. 01-02 By: Emmeline Author's Note: This is my first story so don't judge me too harshly! This tale is more in the style of the old "bodice-rippers" forced seduction stories. If you're looking for more hardcore non-consent, this may not be your thing. The story is a little slow to start; the explicit content is more in the second chapter of this posted portion. Thanks for reading! I hope you will enjoy! I have edited these chapters for some minor adjustments. - Emmeline 1840 London, England Chapter One William Grayson, Earl of Rockdale, was not a nice man. He knew this, accepted it, and it bothered him not at all. Wealth, good looks, and a title allowed him to spend, drink, whore, gamble, and travel to whatever extent he pleased. With a smirk, he raised his snifter of whisky and toasted the frowning portrait of his grandfather over the fireplace of his townhouse study. His dead wife, the faithless bitch, had often accused him of being a cold, selfish bastard. He tossed back the rest of his liquor. It was true for the most part, he mused. But he had tried with Isabelle, at least for a time, to be what he thought she wanted. He snorted into the empty glass. Dear Isabelle, however, had been humping every moving thing with a cock between its legs. Remembering her taunts that he was not even the true father of their children still caused his gut to burn with anger. He roughly shoved back from the desk in his study. It was a damn good thing the woman had gotten herself killed in a carriage accident else he might have strangled her with his bare hands. But even hating her as he did, he had not dealt well with her death. His hands rubbed tiredly over his face as he considered the endless nights of drinking and gambling. But...it had been a year since the accident, and Rockdale acknowledged to himself it was time to move forward. His children had been sorely neglected. And even if there was something of a monster inside him, he did love his son and daughter. Rockdale sloshed more whiskey into his glass and focused his attention on the letter lying on his desk from his old pal, Cavendish. Had Harry truly sent him a gift—how had Harry penned it—"a luscious berry, ripe for the picking?" He shrugged and lifted his glass once more to the disapproving face of his grandsire. "Only one way to find out what entertainment can be found in the countryside, eh, old man?" He drained the glass and set it down with a thump. Yes, it was time for the Earl of Rockdale to return home to Verity Hall. *** Kent, England Eliza Lockhart's sketching instructions were interrupted mid-sentence as the door to the nursery classroom flew open, and Mrs. Biddleton sailed in. "Miss Lockhart." The housekeeper directed a distinctly unfriendly look at Eliza. "You are required downstairs right away. The master has arrived home and wishes to inspect the new staff in his study." Her lips tightened. "Pray make yourself presentable." Eliza lifted her brows at the housekeeper's back as the woman stomped back out. "Well, my dears, I suppose our art lesson must wait until after I see your father." She smiled at six-year old Nicholas and seven-year-old Anna, who sat diligently drawing rabbits with charcoal. "Old Biddie sure makes no secret of her ill feelings toward ye." "No, she does not." Eliza glanced ruefully over at the speaker, a nursery maid mending clothes in the corner. "I have been governess here for nearly a month, but Mrs. Biddleton still treats me coldly as ever." She approached the older woman and lowered her voice. "What have I done to offend her?" Mary paused a moment before continuing her stitching. "She didn't have a say in your hiring, and Biddie despises not having her thumb on everything in this household." The maid cackled. "Of course, it doesn't help that the footmen slobber like hungry dogs every time ye pass by." Eliza's cheeks pinkened. "You are jesting, surely. I have not noticed anything of the sort." The older woman eyed her doubtfully. "Ye haven't been around many men before have ye, lass." "Well, not actually, but I think you must exaggerate." The nursemaid shrugged but looked up at Eliza soberly. "Just watch yourself, miss. Don't let yourself get caught in a dark corner." She waggled a finger at the young governess. "Best hurry downstairs, the master doesn't like to be kept waiting." Moving for the door, Eliza hesitated and turned back. "What is he like...Lord Rockdale, I mean?" she asked in a low voice. Mary frowned. "His lordship's polite enough, I reckon. Treats us well, but he hasn't come out here to the country since his wife passed. Poor wee ducks," she added, looking over at the children. She nibbled her lip and continued in almost a whisper. "Make no mistake his lordship's a handsome devil for sure, but something about those black eyes of his just sends a chill to my heart." She shivered slightly. "Now, run along, or Mrs. Biddleton will have yer head on a platter for dinner." Eliza hurriedly descended the stairs from the third-floor nursery. She hoped the earl did not take the same disliking to her that the housekeeper had. As a governess just starting out, getting hired on in a fine household like Verity Hall had been a godsend, due in no small part to the letter of recommendation written as a favor by a friend of her father's. The thought of her father caused her to shoulders to sag. His sudden death had left Eliza's small family with little funds and debts to be paid. At nineteen years of age, Eliza had been forced to leave her sheltered life in the country behind and find employment to support her mother and younger sister. The sale of their family home and small farm plus her wages, though small, allowed her delicate mother, twelve-year-old sister Abigail, and their beloved Nanny Wick to live in a simple yet sturdy cottage in Lancashire. It was difficult to be away from her family, and she worried continually about their welfare. Reaching the closed door of the earl's study, she straightened her spine and smoothed her fair hair, checking the tightness of the hairpins that secured her low, rolled braid. With nervous hands, she dusted off the skirts of her dark-blue serge dress, her favorite because it matched the color of her eyes. The housekeeper reappeared, grumbling as she marched down the hall. The other recently-hired servants trailed her, followed by the dour butler, Simpson. After a cursory inspection of the group, the butler scratched the closed study door before ushering them all inside. The earl, sitting behind his large desk, rose at their entrance. Eliza's eyes widened. Goodness, he was a giant! Although, she noted, despite being quite tall and broad shouldered, his claret wool frock coat with dove gray waistcoat and trousers were snugly and perfectly tailored to his lean frame. Eliza judged him to be somewhere in his middle thirties, with longish black hair that hinted of a tendency to curl. His eyes were dark in color and slightly hooded. She couldn't help but quiver slightly as his attention turned from conversing briefly with the butler to the servants standing before him. "I wish to formally welcome you all to Verity Hall," her employer said, stepping forward. "As I am sure you must already know, I am William Grayson, the Earl of Rockdale." His dark gaze inspected the line of servants and settled on Eliza. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as the earl paused in front of her. She kept her eyes low under his cool regard and fought to stand still and not fidget. Simpson cleared his throat. "My lord, this is Miss Lockhart, the new governess." Eliza curtsied low before the earl, self-consciously aware her fair complexion revealed the rosy color blooming across her cheeks. "Miss Lockhart, I am pleased to make your acquaintance." Lord Rockdale's slow scrutiny seemed to touch every inch of her person from head to toe. The butler cleared his throat again, and Eliza's heart thumped almost painfully as the earl stared at her for another long moment, his expression unreadable. She exhaled gratefully when the butler continued the introductions, and the lord's eyes finally left her. Throughout the remainder of the day, Eliza attempted to carry on her duties as usual, but the strange unsettled feeling stayed with her. As she worked with the children in their afternoon lessons, she found herself looking up at every sound, both dreading and hoping the earl would make an appearance in the nursery classroom. Anna and Nicholas were distracted and anxious, having learned of their father's return. Finally giving up rudimentary mathematics as a lost cause for the day, Eliza rubbed her aching temples as her charges begged to be allowed to go downstairs and seek out the earl. "Absolutely not," Nanny Goodson said. "You lot shall not be pestering his lordship until he has asked for ye. Now sit still and pay attention to your lessons, or I'll tan your bottoms," she threatened stoutly. Eliza sighed a little over the strict discipline the children endured and smiled wanly. "I think we are finished for the day." Finally, the children were summoned, and a flurry of washing hands and faces commenced before the nanny led the ecstatic young ones downstairs. Eliza remained in the nursery, helping the maids tidy up. Remembering how flushed and self-conscious she had become in the earl's presence, Eliza resolved to avoid further embarrassment, at least for the day. After a solitary evening meal in the kitchen, she retreated to the quiet sanctuary of her room. Located on the same floor as the nursery but in the opposite wing, her chamber was small but comfortable and, thankfully, private. She knew many of the maids resented Eliza's status in Lord Rockdale's country home. As a governess she was neither servant nor family but instead trod a careful line between both worlds. She undressed and pulled on her nightgown and wrapper before curling up in a chair before the hearth with a favorite novel. However, this night, the familiar words failed to capture her attention. She stared into the fire, remembering the earl's intent regard of her in his study. The odd sensation of butterflies returned to her stomach. She found herself wondering what Lord Rockdale's wife had been like, and if the relationship had been a love match. Shaking out of her reverie, Eliza brushed out and rebraided her long hair before climbing into bed. After tossing and turning for what seemed like an eternity, she lay on her back in frustration as sleep stubbornly refused to claim her. She rose from the bed with a sigh. Pulling her wrapper back on, she was lured downstairs to the kitchen by the thought of a small cup of milk to help her sleep. She had fallen into the habit of doing so every few nights. It helped a little with the homesickness to carry on a ritual from home. Plus, it was rather nice, she admitted to herself, to roam the house when all was quiet and calm without the censure of Mrs. Biddleton. Her bare feet made little sound on the floors as she descended and padded toward the kitchen. Though the house was dark and shadow-filled, she was accustomed to finding her way without a candle. Reaching the kitchen area, she hesitated as an odd tingle prickled along the back of her neck. "Do you often wander my home alone at night?" Eliza lurched around, biting back a squeal of fright. She gasped in dismay upon seeing it was the earl himself who had caught her in the kitchen. He stood far too closely for comfort, illuminated only by the banked fire in the large hearth. He had shed his coat and cravat, and the sleeves of his white linen shirt had been rolled up. He seemed to loom larger than life as he eyed her with arms folded across his chest. Embarrassment flooded her body, and Eliza was suddenly certain he would sack her on the spot. "I-I apologize, my lord," she stammered. "I could not sleep and thought to get a drink of milk. Please do excuse my intrusion, I will return to my room." Eliza turned to quickly step around the lord but squeaked in surprise as his large hand snaked out and clamped around her upper arm. "Miss Lockhart, please do not run away just yet." She saw the flash of his white teeth as he smiled and released her arm. "I, too, find myself awake tonight and in search of Cook's strawberry tart. Will you not sit for a moment with me?" Lord Rockdale gestured toward a chair at the kitchen table, and reluctantly Eliza sat in the chair he pulled out for her. She was flustered at the extreme improperness of being alone with the earl in her night clothes but unsure how to politely flee back to her room. I must be dreaming, she thought dazedly, as the earl efficiently moved between the kitchen and larder. Sliding a mug before her, he sat in the next chair and pulled a small flask from his pocket. "Milk is a beverage of children," he informed her and proceeded to pour a goodly portion of the flask into her cup. He winked at Eliza as if they were co-conspirators and began to devour a large slice of strawberry tart. Dismayed, she sipped her doctored milk hesitantly, unsure if the man expected her to make conversation. Lord Rockdale finally paused, swallowing, and glanced over at Eliza. "Will you not have some of my tart? It is divine." "Oh no, my lord, you enjoy it." She attempted a shy smile. "I insist." He broke a small morsel off his slice and extended it toward her in his fingers, his dark eyes seeming to compel her to accept it. Helplessly, she shook her head, knowing she must extract herself from this awkward and oddly intimate tableau. "No, my lord, I..." To Eliza's complete consternation, the earl pushed the bit of tart into her open mouth. "I never take no for an answer, I am afraid." His brief, wolfish smile did nothing to set her nerves at ease. Wordlessly, Eliza chewed, casting her eyes down uncertainly. "Finish your milk, my dear," he said, pushing the mug closer. She drained the cup and stood abruptly, the wooden chair scraping loudly over the stone floor. "I should clear away the dishes and return to my room, my lord." She spoke pleasantly despite quaking inside, praying he would not take offense. Don't be such a ninny, Eliza, she chided herself. Everyone knew the gentry were an odd lot. He was just being friendly, she told herself firmly. Rockdale rose to his feet as well and waved a hand carelessly. "Leave the dishes. Cook knows I am a naughty boy at heart and is used to my ways." He grinned, suddenly looking very boyish. "I enjoy sneaking sweets late at night when no one is around to interfere with me taking whatever I wish." Frowning slightly at her he added, "By the by, I did wish to ask you; How are the children faring, Miss Lockhart?" Eliza blinked under his intense regard. "The children, my lord?" He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, the ones I am paying you to educate?" "Oh, of course, my lord. They are doing quite well." She flushed, feeling like a simpleton. "I see." He rocked back on his heels then nodded as if having reached a decision. "Tell me, Miss Lockhart, are you very tired?" "Actually, my lord, I--" "Come," the earl commanded, interrupting her reply as he strode toward the door. Flabbergasted by his arrogance but realizing she was expected to follow her strange employer, Eliza cast a worried look at the dirty dishes and hastened after the earl before he disappeared from sight. He led the way upstairs to the library on the second floor. The earl stoked the fire and turned to face her where she hovered in the doorway, wavering with indecision. The library was her favorite room in the grand house, filled with endless rows of books and plush, inviting sofas and chairs. He motioned toward the small sofa near the fire. "Please, come, sit down, Miss Lockhart. I have a few brief questions regarding the children, if you do not mind." He smiled slightly at her and lit some candles. Eliza's feet somehow propelled her forward into the room. She gripped the ties of her wrapper with icy hands and uneasily perched on the sofa as he indicated. "My lord, with all due respect, would you not prefer to conduct an interview with me during the daytime?" When we are properly attired, she added silently and fervently. The earl sat in a chair opposite her. "On the contrary, my dear, I like to keep these matters informal and straight-forward." He leaned forward slightly, cocking his head. "Are you frightened of me, Miss Lockhart?" She swallowed hard. "N-n-no, my lord. Just unaccustomed to such...informality...with, er, someone like you. I-I mean, you being Lord Rockdale and my employer...," she trailed off, knowing she was babbling. She WAS a bit afraid...but also mesmerized by him. Rockdale was most attractive, his rumpled appearance somehow even more enticing than the perfect nobleman she had met earlier. He chuckled softly. "Ah well, they do call me an unconventional chap. Perhaps you will learn to tolerate my ways in time, Eliza. You don't mind if I use your given name?" She shook her head, bemused. "Now," he continued in a more serious tone, "we must discuss the children. Tell me, Eliza, how are they adjusting to their studies? I want to hear your curriculum and methods of teaching." Her answers were hesitant at first but sensing a genuine interest from him, Eliza began to relax and speak more freely. A few times she stopped herself and bit her lip, thinking she had surely gone too far in expressing her ideas of what the children should be learning. But the earl remained nonjudgmental, only nodding occasionally and encouraging her to continue. At last, Rockdale reclined back and seemed satisfied with her replies to his questions. "I am impressed. I see that you have quite a keen mind." Eliza smiled uncertainly at the compliment. Not many men saw the value of an educated woman. There was a short silence between them as the earl sat staring as if deep in thought. "I often have trouble sleeping," he said finally with a rueful glance her way. "I apologize if I have disturbed your rest." "No, my lord, it is fine," Eliza hastened to assure him, unsure how to interpret his expression. "I am pleased that you take an interest in your children." He idly picked up a book lying on the table beside the sofa. "Your voice is quite pleasing, soothing even. Could I possibly trouble you to read aloud to me for a little while?" Even as a small part of her wondered if the earl was having a jest at her expense, Eliza's ingrained politeness had her answering, "Of course, my lord, if you wish it, I will." She took the book from him and began to read aloud from the book of poems, telling herself it was not so strange of a request, as her father had often asked her to do the same at home. The earl listened quietly until some time had passed, and Eliza fought back a yawn. He reached over and took the book from her, and with some relief she moved to rise and escape. He held up a hand. "I shall read for a while, and you listen." He smiled gently, but his eyes were very dark and firm. Resigned, Eliza settled back, knowing at some point she must insist he let her leave, but unsure how to do so without offending her employer. The earl began to read where she had left off, his voice steady and sure with a pleasant, deep timbre. The fire flickered and crackled nearby and cast its mellow glow over the two of them. Despite the utter improperness of the situation, Eliza found herself to be oddly soothed and wondered inwardly at the strangely domestic scene they made. Happy memories of her family gathered in the evenings after supper, taking turns reading drifted through her mind. Fondly, she remembered her father laughing as she would change her voice to suit the characters in the novels he had adored. Perhaps, though being a noble, the earl had similar memories with his family or departed wife. Carnal Knowledge Ch. 01-02 She tried to smother back another yawn and to focus on the words of the poem as the earl looked up briefly from the pages of the book to smile at her. She could easily imagine the fine ladies of the ton in London, fighting to be the recipient of one of his heady smiles. Her sleepy mind conjured the image of a grand ball, filled with glittering, beautifully-dressed aristocrats. The earl, darkly handsome in evening finery, whirled her around the room, her dancing feet barely touching the floor. For the first time in her life, Eliza felt a pang of loss for the dances and parties she had never cared to attend. Shy and soft-spoken, she had been content in her girlhood country life, though after about age thirteen, she could not help but notice how males had begun to treat her differently. The leering gazes that spoke to her bosom rather than her face made her uncomfortable, and she did her best to ignore it, even discouraging any beaus who tried to draw her out. Her mother was often sickly, and Eliza had been glad to forego the village social gatherings whenever possible. Though not titled, her father had inherited their family home and oversaw their small estate and farm. It had been a great shock when they had discovered after her father's death the mounds of debt he had been concealing. Tired of being held up so stiffly, her neck drooped, and the crimson fabric of the sofa felt soft and velvety under her cheek. You must stay awake and keep your wits about you, she scolded herself sternly but allowed herself to relax little by little against the padded back of the sofa. Gradually, she allowed the warm comfort of the room to seep into the empty, lonely places within her. A small sigh escaped her lips as her eyes closed. *** Rockdale watched intently as his young governess's lashes became heavy and drifted shut. He continued reading for a while before closing the book softly and setting it aside. His eyes traveled her shapely form, resting first upon the braided hair gleaming gold in the firelight. He slid closer, picked up the heavy tail and brought it close to his face to inhale the sweet scent. He trailed a finger gently down her cheek, relishing the texture of her creamy skin, wondering if she would taste even better than she smelled. Slowly he loosened the tie of her wrapper, drawing the sides apart. The small buttons down the front of her plain nightgown offered little resistance as he opened each with a flick of his fingers. Reaching her waist, he drew the thin garment open wide. "Ah, yes..." he murmured, riveted by the generous curves of exposed bosom. His cock pulsed against the confines of his tight breeches. For a petite young woman, she had delightfully plump tits, her pale, velvety skin crowned with small, rosy coral tips. He traced one nipple with his finger, watching it pebble and harden for him. Leaning closer, the earl slid his hands leisurely over her bare chest, caressing, cupping, and lightly squeezing the firm flesh. His blood began to heat, and he reached down to adjust himself. With an eye to the open door, he reluctantly drew her nightgown closed. He sat quietly observing her for a few long moments, the only sounds the huffs of her soft breathing and the ticking of the mantle clock. Could she be as innocent as she seemed? He shook his head, marveling that she would fall asleep, even under the influence of his doctored milk, trusting him to be a gentleman. Rockdale unfolded his long length and stood, eyeing the girl another moment, considering and weighing. She moaned quietly in her slumber, and lust quickened like fire in his belly. Leaning over, he carefully scooped her into his arms and carried his young governess up the stairs. Chapter Two Eliza woke slowly, her thinking muddled, but knowing immediately something was amiss. Panic began to beat a dull thudding rhythm through her body. Though the light was dim, she knew she lay in her own bed, in her own chamber. She inhaled sharply in bewilderment, realizing she was completely naked, and her hands were secured over her head and attached by some means to the headboard. Her head thrashed and jerked, and she cried out in alarm. A large, unmistakably male hand covered her mouth and muffled the sound. Eliza recoiled in fright as a candle was lit beside the bed, revealing the earl standing before her, his enigmatic eyes intent upon her. "Poor little dove," he murmured, stroking her hair gently. "You must be quiet. Do you understand?" Helplessly confused, a tear rolled down her cheek, and Eliza nodded. Lord Rockdale removed his hand and began to remove his clothing. Her heart pounded frantically as waves of white-hot fear poured over her body. Almost frozen in shock, she stared as the powerful muscles of his physique were revealed. His skin was golden in the flickering light and covered with a dusting of dark hair. He stood still before her, his powerful body proudly nude. Her gaze was drawn unwillingly down to his erect penis, which appeared massive and almost angry to her fearful gaze. She whimpered as he approached the bed once more, his body graceful yet undeniably predatory. Eliza was innocent of relations between men and women, but the earl's apparent intentions were very clear. Rising anxiety caused her breath to hitch unevenly in her chest. Finding her voice, words began to spill from her mouth. "My lord, please, please, release me. You must not do this, please," she pleaded, tears sliding freely down her face. "Shhhh..." Rockdale placed a finger against her lips. "I regret to cause you distress, but it is unavoidable. The moment I saw you in my study, blushing so prettily, I knew it would only be a matter of time before I would have to be inside you." His casual dismissal of her pleas caused a sudden fury to surge through Eliza, temporarily chasing away her panic and fear. "My lord, somehow you have gotten the wrong impression of me. Despite what you may think, I am NOT some trollop or... a whore!" She jerked hard in frustration at her bound hands. "It is not seemly for you to treat me this way. I am your employee and thus deserve your respect. You must release me at once!" She glared at him furiously. "Dear girl, I realize you are no trollop." The earl slowly surveyed her naked body with frank interest. "Have you ever lain with a man?" "What! No! How dare you!" Eliza ground her teeth in frustration. "I am a virgin, my lord, and wish to remain one! Let me go this instant! You are a vile and dirty man to act in such a perverse fashion!" He frowned. "I understand your maiden's reluctance, but I am master here in this house." The bed dipped as he sat down. "You will submit to me, willing or no." Furiously she kicked at him, wishing she could claw his pompous face. "I will not!" He leaned over and softly murmured in her ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin there. "Miss Lockhart, I find myself enthralled with your delectable body. I am quite afraid I will be keeping my cock deep inside you as often as I desire it so." His hands slid over her chest and molded over her breasts. She tried in vain to wiggle away, but he restrained her with no apparent effort. "You have the most perfect pair of tits I've ever seen," he murmured, leaning over to nuzzle the bare flesh within his grip. He moved to stretch full out beside her, his large body partially covering her smaller one. She froze as his tongue began to lick and lap at her neck and chest. "S-stop it! You must stop!" The dark head lifted, and she stared fearfully into his glittering black eyes. "Just relax, my dear." He pressed his mouth against hers almost roughly, drowning out her protests by sliding his tongue into her open mouth. Large hands cradled her head, his tongue rubbing against hers, exploring and probing. The earl tasted of strawberries and some indefinable male essence. The intimacy of being kissed in such a manner shocked Eliza to her core. She drew in a shaky breath when he finally abandoned her mouth to lick along her jaw, and he found the vulnerable skin at the junction of her neck and shoulder. He bit down lightly, making a deep noise low in his throat and pressing his hard, hot staff against her leg. She squeaked in fear, hating herself for being so weak. Her mind felt so groggy and panicked distress blurred rational thoughts of how to fight him or convince him to stop. "Please, my lord, please, no..." His hands encircled Eliza's breasts, squeezing and fondling. "A juicy berry indeed," he muttered and took her nipple into his mouth. The sensation of his tongue sliding across and then flicking the sensitive flesh caused her to bite her lip in momentary confusion. Her eyes started to drift closed as he licked and nipped her with his teeth, then suckled, giving equal attention to both her breasts. His thorough attention to her bosom almost distracted her from noticing one hand sliding lower across her stomach until his fingers began to trace the secret crevice between her legs. Her struggles renewed as he caressed the small patch of curls. Eliza squeezed her thighs together as one large finger slid over her damp slit, rubbing back and forth, seeking deeper entry. She shook her head violently. "No! No, you mustn't!" Heedless to her pleas, the earl shifted lower in the bed. Her strength was no match for his as he urged her knees apart and then used his body to spread her legs wide. Knowing her most secret place was now revealed to his hungry gaze, she turned her face into the pillow in defeat. *** Rockdale bared his teeth in triumph at securing his place between the young governess' thighs. He took a moment to admire the bounty spread before him. The chit's lovely face and hair were shadowed, but the candlelight flickered over full, round tits thrust upward invitingly, her bound hands keeping her back arched. His cock leaped in excitement as his gaze was drawn lower to the sight of virgin, pale curls parted for him. He cupped her intimately and possessively, savagely glad she was helpless to deny him entry into her body. He spread the lips of her mound further and traced the delicate folds inside. "How pretty you are here, darling." Her body jerked as he began to work his forefinger inside her. His thumb found her clitoris, rubbing it lightly. Her inner passage gripped his finger tightly and though the girl protested his possession, he felt her channel becoming wet and slippery to accommodate the inevitable coming penetration by his cock. "No, you shouldn't do this, please, my lord!" Her head rolled back and forth on the pillow as she sobbed and pleaded, but Rockdale's attention was centered on the soft folds between her legs. He grabbed hold of his eager, dripping cock, blood pounding wildly in his ears. Dimly realizing he was literally panting with desire, he allowed pure animal lust to take control. He guided his cock between her nether lips, spreading the shiny beads of moisture leaking from the head as he slid his shaft back and forth over her entrance. She squirmed and undulated ineffectually beneath him as he probed her entrance with the blunt tip. Her inner muscles contracted around him as they struggled to accept his invasion. Sweat dripped from his brow as he succeeded in lodging the head of his cock inside her. He gritted his teeth and held her knees spread wide as his rod speared deeper and deeper. Encountering the barrier of her virginity, he growled in satisfaction and rammed forward sharply, allowing her no quarter. The young woman cried out and reared up beneath him, back arching further, as she reacted to the sudden pain of his penetration. He grasped her hips, keeping her firmly in place. Once fully seated, Rockdale covered her with his large body and kissed her squeezed-shut eyelids, then lightly her lips. Gently, but insistently, his tongue flicked over her closed mouth, demanding entry. "Open to me," he said against her lips, his arms wrapping around her in a tight embrace. His triumph grew as she moaned and submitted to him. His tongue surged deep in her mouth as his cock stretched her tight inner passage. Bracing his elbows on either side of her, he began to slowly withdraw his cock before pushing it back into her hot center an inch at a time. Sliding deeper with every stroke, he released her mouth to whisper in her ear, "You feel so good and snug around my cock. I knew this hot little quim was made to receive me." His open mouth found her neck once more and he bit down lightly as his thrusts became faster and more urgent. *** Eliza was overwhelmed by the merciless physical assault of her body. Never before had she imagined this was what it meant to join with a man. His scent, very male and foreign, surrounded her, and the raw sensation of the lord's naked, sweating skin rubbing and sliding against her own was nearly as alarming as the invasion of his large penis into her body. Rockdale's hand once again captured her breast, rolling her nipple between his finger and thumb. She gasped as the pinching sent an unexpected wave of tingling through her body. Grinning wickedly, he reached down between their bodies and began to gently rub the raised nubbin just above where he was joined with her. An unfamiliar tension began to build in her body, and his finger began to feel slick and slide easier against her sensitive flesh. He whispered sweet words of praise in her ear mixed with crude carnal words that made her burn with embarrassment and yet, some other indefinable emotion as well. She fought mightily against it and pulled at her restraints. "Yes, so beautiful," he whispered. "You're going to be my beautiful little toy, aren't you, love?" Relentless in his physical assault, Rockdale loomed over her, his finger flicking her bud as his penis repeatedly slid shallow and deep. She moaned helplessly as the heat between her legs became almost unbearable, and her body bowed up off the bed. "I knew you would love it when I claimed you," he hissed into her ear. With a cry she could not hold back, the tension within her exploded, a surge of unexpected, blinding pleasure spiraling through her body. She gasped for air, shocked at the heady sensations swamping her, wondering what strange wildness had taken over her body. Rockdale groaned, his hands gripping and lifting her bottom as he continued to pound inside her, his thrusts becoming faster and faster. "Yes!" he growled as he roughly surged within her twice more before grinding hard one final time. She shuddered as his penis pulsed and throbbed deep inside her body. Rockdale lowered his chin, breathing heavily. He collapsed, pressing her heavily down into the bed for several long moments. The earl flipped them onto their sides, facing one another. He reached over her head and in a moment her arms were free. He held her against his chest, lightly stroking her hair. Eliza trembled in his embrace, torn between tears and anger, overloaded with conflicting emotions, wrung out from the carnal encounter. "I am sorry for hurting you," Rockdale murmured, his hand stroking down her back and familiarly over her bottom. "I did not mean to be so rough with you, little dove. I'm afraid you drove me quite out of my mind." Unsure how to respond, Eliza only sniffled in reply. Her body trembled in shock as her mind struggled to absorb and understand what had happened this night. The earl moved away, and she shivered as his penis slid out from her body. She curled up, feeling strangely numb. He returned with some water and a damp towel and gently began to wash her. No more fight left within her, Eliza let him touch her as he wished and allowed him to spread her legs once more. After a quick wash of his own body, he returned to the bed, once again gathering her in his arms. Exhausted mentally and physically, she lay still as he stroked her hair. She wanted him to go away. She wanted her nightgown. She wanted to stab the sharpest kitchen knife into the black heart beating beneath her cheek. "Go to sleep now," he murmured. With a ragged sob lodged in her throat, she closed her eyes, wishing with all her might to escape his tight embrace. Their naked skin pressed so close and still damp from...what he had DONE to her...was nigh unbearable. How could she have succumbed so easily? Eliza closed her eyes and a single tear escaped to roll down her cheek. *** Beams of bright sunshine on her face coaxed Eliza from a deep sleep. She rolled to sitting, rubbing her eyes and looked down to see her bare breasts. She fell backwards onto the bed with a groan, the horror of the night before flooding back in graphic detail. The earl, oh dear goodness, he had ruined her, completely ruined her! Self-pity and shame wedged like a cruel knot in her throat. What would she do; where would she go? What had she done to bring this down upon herself? Nothing, that is what! Anger overtook her as she bounded out of the bed, stomping naked around her chamber. The earl was a wretch, a cad, a morally-reprehensible cockroach! Eliza fisted her hands, wanting to punch and hit someone, preferably the lord's snug face. How dare he do this to her? She was no light-skirt, no floozy to be dallied with in a dark alley. She was the great-granddaughter of baronet, for bloody goodness sake! But quickly as her anger kindled, it fled. She collapsed in a miserable heap on the rug-covered floor, wincing at the newly-discovered soreness of her body. Fighting back the tears that threatened, she rose again, heading to the small wardrobe. She must pack and leave at once. Reaching the wardrobe, she caught sight of herself in the looking glass and gasped in dismay. Her hair was straggling out from its braid, her lips red and puffy. Looking closer she realized that there was an abraded place on her neck where he had bitten her. Bitten her! "The bloody beast!" Her stomach rumbled, and she looked down in surprise. Though her body felt man-handled and raw, it was also quite hungry. She took a deep ragged breath. Everything would seem clearer after a good breakfast, she decided firmly. After all, the earl could hardly further abuse her during the day in front of the staff. Glancing at the bright sun coming in the window, she acknowledged she had better hurry if she was to be in time to get any breakfast. After a quick toilet, she dressed her hair in its customary bun and pulled on her drabbest gray frock. It's a shame I didn't bring my black mourning dresses, she thought darkly. She felt as if she should be in mourning for her lost innocence. Grimly she headed downstairs in the hope she had not missed the morning meal. She had set one foot inside the kitchen when Mrs. Biddleton called her name shrilly. She turned, resigned at her bad luck. "Yes?" "Slug-a-bed aren't we today?" Eliza's spine stiffened; she owed this woman no explanation or excuse. "Did you require something of me, madam? If not, I would like to break my fast." She moved as if to continue past the housekeeper into the kitchen. "Well, Miss La-Di-Da, you're headed in the wrong direction. One day back and you've somehow got him dancing to your tune," the housekeeper said waspishly. Eliza frowned in confusion. "I beg your pardon?" "The master has decreed you shall eat breakfast in the dining room..." Mrs. Biddleton scowled. "with the family." Throwing up her hands in disgust, she whirled away from Eliza in a flurry of black skirts. Eliza reluctantly turned and headed back upstairs to the dining room on the second floor. What was the earl about? Did he think to humiliate her in front of the staff? Two high-spots of color burning in her cheeks, she walked into the dining room, head held high. Teeth clenched, she noted the curious stares of the two footmen as she entered. She halted in confusion as she approached the table. Carnal Knowledge Ch. 01-02 Young Nicholas and Anna were seated with their father, chattering away. Spying Eliza, Anna squealed in delight. "Miss Lockhart! Father has said we may breakfast in the dining room as long as he is at home! Isn't it wonderful?" Nicholas bounced in his chair. "He's going to take us riding after we eat!" "Yes, that is quite wonderful," Eliza replied flatly. It was certainly unusual for children to eat in the dining room, but the earl was free to set his own rules. She looked directly at Lord Rockdale for the first time since entering the room, trying hard to contain her ire in front of the children and footmen. "I was told you required me in the dining room," she said stiffly. The earl waved a hand. "I see no need for you to take your meals alone, Miss Lockhart. The children speak of you fondly, and we all would be honored for you to join us." He smiled first at her then down at the children, his demeanor polite and affable. Her eyes narrowed, trying to reconcile the monster who had defiled her last night with this genteel lord. "Please, George, assist Miss Lockhart to the table and Oliver, fill a plate for her from the sideboard." The two footmen hastened to obey his orders. Eliza thought to protest at first, but not wishing to make more of a spectacle of herself than necessary, she huffed inwardly and sat in the chair that the footman pulled out for her. As Oliver sat a brimming plate in front of her along with a steaming cup of chocolate, she bit her lip. Honestly! What did he think he was doing having the footmen treat her as a lady of the house? It was highly improper, and no doubt the talk of it would make quick rounds of the staff. She forced herself to take a few bites of the delicious food. Hunger had deserted her in such close quarters with her cruel employer. She laid her silverware down with a loud plunk. "I require a word in private, my lord," she said rudely, trying and failing not to glare directly at him. She looked down and frowned, uncomfortable knowing the footmen were no doubt observing her ill-mannered behavior. "Why, of course, Miss Lockhart, it would be my pleasure," he replied pleasantly. "I must meet with my man of business this afternoon after riding with the children, so perhaps before dinner?" She nodded tersely, picking up her fork and knife again. Lord Rockdale and the children finished their breakfast before her, and the youngsters leapt up, Anna practically dancing toward the door. "Have Nanny Goodson help you with your riding attire and meet me at the stables," the earl instructed the children, and they bounded from the room. He stood and turned to face her, inclining his head. "Miss Lockhart, I apologize for detaining the children from their morning lessons. I hope I am not disturbing your routine too badly." He bowed. "I bid you a good day." She sat tight-lipped and gripped her knife tightly, wishing with all her might to hurl it at his retreating back. Blankly, she stared down at her plate, trying to decide if she wished to choke down any more food. Oliver began to clear the table, gathering dirty dishes on a tray before exiting silently. With surprise, she felt a presence behind her chair. She saw with a backward glance it was the tall and burly footman, George. He leaned over the table quite close to her, reaching for the butter dish. She sucked in a shocked breath as his arm brushed against the side of her breast. She stared up at him incredulously. "Please watch what you are doing!" she whispered furiously. "Oh, miss, trust me, I am watching." He leaned in close to murmur in her ear. "I watch those nice tits and arse you've got ever chance I get. Tell me, darlin', if I ask nicely, will you lift those pretty skirts for me, too?" A cold rage swept over her. "Excuse me, but you are being extremely offensive!" She moved to jerk her chair back, but he clamped a hand on her shoulder. "Do not touch me," she hissed. He chuckled. "Aww, now miss, don't be all coy with ole Georgie. I saw the master carrying you upstairs late last night. If I'd a known it was that simple, I'd a been between your legs a long time ago. O'course I'm no earl, but I think you'll like what I got for you just fine." Eliza rammed her elbow with all her strength into his midsection, and he moved back with a grunt. Brandishing her fork, she stared hard at him. "If you lay a hand on me again, you will be sorry." He grinned unrepentantly. "It ain't so much my hand I had in mind." Oliver reentered with an empty tray and looked curiously over at the two of them. Cheeks burning, she stalked out of the room. Urgent to be away, she practically ran downstairs and out the side door of the house into the gardens. She walked blindly, almost numb with shock and dismay. The gardens were lovely in the early spring, but Eliza had no appreciation for the beauty. How could she possibly stay in this horrible house? Surely she had no recourse but to leave her position. Swallowing hard, she recalled the many months it had taken her to secure this job at Verity Hall. How long before she could get another? How long until there was no money to put food in her younger sister's mouth? There was always service, she reflected grimly, but the salary would be paltry, and she would not put it past Mrs. Biddleton to put the word out against her. She kicked viciously at a potted plant, knocking it over. She collapsed onto a nearby bench, tears and misery overtaking her. An older man's head popped up from some shrubbery, and he quickly scurried over. Looking with horror between Eliza and the over-turned pot, he looked torn between the two calamities. He wiped his hands on a pocket rag. "There, there, young miss. What has turned you into a watering can?" He smiled kindly at her. "I'm Willoughby, the gardener here." As if unable to help himself, he righted the pot and crotched down to scoop the spilled earth back around the plant. She looked up at him through watery eyes. "I'm sorry about the plant, Mr. Willoughby. I find myself quite overcome today." Finished with the plant, he brushed his hand off again and stood. "Not to worry, miss. What would a pretty thing like you have to worry over?" He paused as if a thought occurred to him, and he reddened. "You haven't found yourself, err, hmm." He bounced a little on his heels. "You know, err, in the family way?" The gardener looked deeply embarrassed but met her eyes. "Oh no!" Eliza automatically replied before glancing down at her stomach in dismay, realizing the fact was now not out of the realm of possibility. She looked up into his kind eyes again and somehow the truth spilled from her lips. "It is a terrible thing, Mr. Willoughby," she said hoarsely. "The master has ruined me against my will, and I do not know what to do. I have little funds, and my family back at home is depending on me for support." The gardener looked dumbstruck. "Oh, my poor dear." He removed his hat and twisted it in his hands. "Poor, poor, girl," he muttered. He gazed down at her, eyes troubled. "I have some money I can give you. It isn't much, but it would at least get you to the village and perhaps some of the fare to get home." A shadow fell over them. "Excuse me, Willoughby," said Lord Rockdale in an icy voice. "The roses look wilted, could you please attend to them at once." His voice cracked like a whip, and the gardener reacted as if he had been physically struck. "Of course, my lord. Right away, my lord." He tugged his forelock and disappeared back into the shrubbery. Eliza stood slowly, defiantly meeting his gaze. Dressed for riding, he tapped his crop against his thigh, regarding her silently. Swift as a cobra, his hand shot out to grasp her elbow firmly. "Walk with me, please, Miss Lockhart." Though voiced as a request, his eyes were angry as he hauled her further down the path. She wrestled against his grip, but he held her firm until they had reached the reflecting pond. He released her arm and whipped around to face her. "I will not force you to stay in this house. You are free to leave your position at any time." He took a breath as if collecting himself. "It is a shame, though, about your mother falling ill recently." He smiled thinly at her sharp intake of breath. "Yes, I had quite the conversation with the butler about you this morning. We took a chance on hiring such an inexperienced governess, as I'm sure you know." "Do not speak of my family!" Her hands balled tightly, and she shook with the desire to plant a fist right into his cold, arrogant face. He shrugged carelessly. "Stay or go, it is of no import to me. But realize this, if you leave, it is without further wages or assistance. I'm sure you will find a way to get you and your belongings back to Lancashire somehow." "I have money," she returned hotly. "I will hire someone to help me." "Oh?" he said casually and reached into his pocket. "Oh dear, look what I have found, was that not lucky?" Eliza stared dumbly for a moment at the small coin purse made from beautifully tooled brown leather that he held out in his hand. Her father's coin purse. The leather pouch disappeared back into his pocket. "You utterly contemptible man," she said, voice trembling with rage. "How dare you steal from my room!" "I think you will find I dare whatever I wish in my house, Miss Lockhart. Whatever you decide, know this," he reached out and grabbed her chin forcefully, causing her to cry out. "You will never speak of my personal dealings with anyone ever again, not with the staff, not anyone, do you understand me? I can make life quite unpleasant for you if I so wish." With that pronouncement he released her abruptly and strode away. Shaking all over, Eliza walked aimlessly in the gardens until her breathing had slowed to a normal rhythm. She shook her head at her own stupidity in confiding to the butler about the recent letter received from home. How had this position turned into such a nightmare so quickly? As she made her way back to the house with dragging feet, Eliza noted the kindly gardener was nowhere to be seen. Face it, Eliza, she thought bitterly, there is no one to depend on but yourself. She wiped her face with her handkerchief and briefly considered sending a letter to her mother or dear old Nanny Wick to ask for assistance. She shook her head sadly and rejected the notion. There was no extra money at home to send, and her mother had been recently ill as well. That would never do. Eliza thought frantically of others she might appeal to for assistance. For the first time in her life, she cursed the fact that she had been so reserved growing up and consequently had no close friends she could call upon. A group of lawyers had handled her father's estate, but she certainly did not know any of them well enough to solicit aid. She thought then of her father's friend, Sir Harold Cavendish, whose letter of recommendation had helped secure her the position at Verity Hall. He would not hesitate to aid her, she was positive. Unfortunately, the good man was currently touring the continent with his wife and family. "Bloody hell," she muttered, wishing to throw back her head and scream her frustration to the world. Grimly, she decided there was no option but to stay, at least for now, until another solution was discovered. She would have to be vigilant and never allow herself to ever be alone outside her chamber. The earl might think he had her at his mercy, but she would not make things so easy on him next time.