A/N: Hi everyone! I thought I better explain what I've done with this chapter. I've made some huge changes to the Pembroke church scene, which took the word count for the chapter to over 5,000. I don't like doing such long chapters and so I've broken it up, it ends now where Bordon follows Tavington, and of course this latest chapter begins with Lyra and Benjamin, and Ben's attempted marriage plan. It continues on though, so just skip that first part if you want. I know it means you are not getting a fully new chapter - but the next chapter will be up tomorrow. I hope.
I changed the Pembroke scene because, as Bain pointed out in her review, she would have liked to have seen more of Tavington's reactions. Now, I always write way ahead my stories, and when I get to the current chapter I revise it before posting it up.
I re-read the Pembroke scene and, judging by the embarrassing errors, I do not think I revised the scene at all! Sorry about that... Anyway, I've revised and added to it, so feel free to have a look! A seriously huge thanks to Bain Sidhe for her input! :-)
::::::::::::::
Chapter 53 - A Marriage Proposal & Gabriel's Rage
"It's raining," Lyra complained. She had recovered much of her equilibrium, especially after having such a goodnight sleep. Benjamin had not woken her during the night as he had threatened, he did not mount her again until the morning.
"Quite obviously," Benjamin replied, the dark clouds overhead had finally broken, the deluge struck the tent, already causing little muddy rivers outside.
"But that means you won't going scouting!" She whirled away from the tent flap and tapped her foot with frustration.
"No, you are stuck with me, I'm afraid." He could not quite keep the amusement from his tone.
"Christ, Ghost. You have been at me for four days! Enough! If your seed has not taken now, it will not! I need a rest!"
"No. I will 'keep at you' until you miss your next bleeding," he turned from the desk to regard her, standing over him, her hands firmly planted on her hips. "Or until the Butcher comes for you, and then I shall kill him."
"So you say," she scoffed. "I personally think he is going to kill you, Ghost. Slowly, painfully."
"You think so, do you?"
"Do you have any idea how alike the two of you are?"
"Lyra," his amusement fled, his voice filled with warning.
"Well, you are! Christ, no wonder neither of you has been able to get a jump on the other, not to any great extent. You are both circling each other, a little dance that is bringing pain to all the people you care about. Nothing will be resolved between you until you face each other, one on one."
"Fascinating," he muttered, annoyed because he knew she was absolutely right.
"You should offer to duel him," she said tartly as she ventured closer to where he sat.
"A duel?" He quirked his eyebrows, amused again.
"Yes. Just between the two of you. That way, no one else will get hurt when he kills you."
"I will not let you bait me, Lyra." Benjamin scoffed. She was always pushing him, baiting him, trying to get his anger to rise. Though he could not understand it, she was a captive, for Christ's sake! And her moods - who would have guessed she was such a fiery thing?
"No? I believe you already know the truth, that he is superior to you -"
"I believe you are defending your lover tooth and nail, because you feel guilty and wretched," he told her firmly. "You have enjoyed it, each time I've fucked you."
Lyra tightened her lips.
"I saw how excited you were, when I returned from scouting yesterday. Oh, you tried to hide it, but I saw the gleam in your eye. You stamped your feet and hurled abuse at me, but that is all to cover how shamed you are for enjoying it."
"That is a lie! You can't truly believe -"
"We both know its true." He cut her off. "Come now, I am more twice your age, Lyra. With age, comes great wisdom, doesn't it?"
"So I'm told," she muttered. "I've yet to see any evidence of that!"
"You talk too much, Lyra, come and put your beautiful mouth to good use," he began to unbuckle his breeches and Lyra's eyes widened with horror. He had not coaxed her to do it before, but she had been expecting it.
"No. I will not."
"No?" His cock was pulled free, already hard, angry, waiting. "You know that your Butcher made Charlotte do it to him. She enjoyed it, though, according to my son who was forced to watch from his place of concealment. Perhaps you will enjoy it too, Lyra."
"I will not do it." She refused to lower her eyes off his, refused to look at his lap, to the weapon that had drawn forth so many climaxes. Her heart already beginning to pound, she swallowed hard against the ache building.
"You will," he commanded coldly. "Danvers did not ride out this morning, he is still in camp."
"You threaten me with him!" Lyra raised her voice. "You are nothing but a toothless old bastard, if you have to rely on the most insane of your men to threaten me."
"Shall I call for him?" Again not rising to the bait.
Benjamin could hurt her, if he desired, and Lyra knew it. Danvers however... He was almost a rabid wolf. Chomping at the bit to drag Lyra into his own tent and fuck her senseless. Benjamin had been forced to keep Curly and Skunk on the tent to guard Lyra when Benjamin was out scouting, not in case she escaped, but to protect her from Danvers.
"No need," she growled her reply, and lowered herself to her knees before him. She began to torment him at once, her soft fingers wrapping around his throbbing length.
"He's taught you well," Benjamin breathed, as Lyra worked him with her hand. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
"Come quickly, then, will you?" Lyra spat with derision.
Her words did not bother him, he had grown used to her moods over the last few days. She became at her most angry and provoking when they were about to couple, for she knew she could not keep her orgasms at bay. She relished every second of their coupling, and it made her surly. Benjamin smiled and shrugged, his eyes still closed as he enjoyed the sensation of her fingers stroking him. And in the next heartbeat, her lips were on him. The Ghost grunted with pleasure as Lyra began to suckle him, he wrapped his fingers through her hair as she slid her mouth up and down his cock, he shifted on his seat restlessly and shuddered as she worked him.
"Harder," he ordered harshly, and she complied, increasing the pressure of her sucks. It drove him wild. Drove him to madness. He thrust his hips up, forcing himself deeper into her mouth and she moaned. His eyes flew open, and was almost undone by the sight before him, Tavington's beautiful young lover, on her knees, sucking him, the Ghost, with an expression of ecstasy on her face.
"Sweet God in heaven!" Benjamin gasped, it was difficult to breathe, difficult to think. Her mouth, so hot, her tongue, such pleasure! "Lyra... Ah, Christ."
Her tongue traced the underside of his cock, which twitched, almost about to come.
"Stop... Agh, stop now. Come, sit astride me," he pulled his member from her mouth and was about to pull her to her feet to sit across his lap. But the sight of her glazed eyes stopped him. His breath caught, he stared down at her - still on her knees before him. She was breathing heavily, panting, her lips moist, inviting. He felt a sudden need, a sudden drive, to kiss her. He had not done it so far, he had not kissed a woman since before he broke his engagement to Charlotte. He tried to kiss Lyra now. Lowering his face to hers, he tried to catch those moist plump lips with his, but she jerked away, alarmed.
"No!" She fell back on her rump and stared up at him accusingly. "You will not kiss me! I'd rather be raped by Danvers!"
"Christ Lyra! Its just a kiss! You sucked me, for fucks sake! I've lost count of the times you've orgasmed with me!"
"No Benjamin. You will not kiss me."
"Charlotte kissed Tavington!"
"I do not care," she rose to her feet, dusted her skirts, before lifting them to straddle his lap. She took hold of his substantial length, guiding it inside her, impaling herself with a sigh. "Oh, God..." A whisper.
"Quite." Benjamin murmured his agreement. It felt good, too fucking good. She rocked against him, up and down, all around. "Come Lyra, let me -" He leaned in again, but she shook her head violently and buried her face in his shoulder.
"No. Be satisfied you do not have to rape me, Benjamin," she whispered against his neck.
"Fine," he muttered in defeat.
Lyra, sensing he would not try again, lifted her head from his shoulder. Even that had been too intimate for her liking, William's was the only shoulder she wished to rest her head against. His were the only lips she wanted pressed against hers. She thought of her lover as she rode Benjamin, imagined it was his fingers gripping her waist, guiding her up and down, his grunts that sounded his pleasure, William's hot breath, that she could feel against her bosom.
"Oh, God," she wailed, writhing now, her eyes closed, her lips parted. She was on the edge once more, and with only a few more thrusts she was pushed over, into the sweet waves, the heat flooding through her. Her back arched and she held her breath, holding back her moans as she always did with Martin.
Benjamin breathed raggedly, his unblinking eyes on her face.
"You know... I'm going to... tell him... Don't you?" he panted. Christ, but she was a wonderful thing to be inside of.
"Tell him?" She said with a frown, her brow coated with a film of sweat.
"How much you enjoy it. I will tell him how often we coupled, and how much you enjoyed it."
"Benjamin..." her beautiful face twisted with anguish. "Please... don't do that. Why would you do that?"
"To hurt him. Which is why you are here, remember? I will tell him how abandoned you become when I am stroking inside you, how wet, how you pulse around my cock when you come. Even how excited you become when I return to you in the evenings."
"No.." She whimpered. "He'll never forgive me," a small voice, pleading. "Please, Benjamin, if you have any mercy at all, please don't -"
"Mercy?" he arched an eyebrow. "I have some little left, I admit. You have not been given to Danvers, have you? Or any of the others. The Butcher has to hurt, Lyra, he has to pay."
Lyra began to cry, great choking sobs as she lifted off of him and stumbled to stand by the cot.
"You will really tell him?" She managed through her weeping.
"Yes," he began buckling his breeches. "The very next time I meet with him, Lyra."
She sat down heavily on the edge of the cot and he came to stand before her.
"He has taken everything from me, Lyra. There is nothing I can take from him, except for you. And so, when he refuses to take you back, you may remain with me. You will be carrying my child - I would never spurn one of my own. I am an old widow, but you enjoy being in my bed well enough, and I certainly enjoy having you there. You and I will marry."
She shook her head, unable to believe her ears.
"You'd love that, wouldn't you? It would be the ultimate revenge!" She accused him wretchedly. "Not only that I enjoyed coupling with you, but that I would be your wife?"
Benjamin smiled and sighed with satisfaction. "That it would. He loves you dearly - I know of nothing else in this world that he loves. But I will be the one who gets to marry you."
"No," she shook her head again and her voice grew harsh. "I will not allow it. If he refuses to take me back, so be it. I will not remain with you, not willingly. And I will not marry you - Reverend Oliver will not perform the ceremony until I give consent and that I will not do. I am sorry, Ghost, but this latest plan of yours will never draw breath. When this is done, I will leave, to Charles Town, to William, to who knows where? But not to you."
Benjamin stared down at her coldly.
"Fine. Have it your way. It will still hurt him, if I am able to pull the two of you apart."
::::::::::::::::
Lyra sat on the cot for some time, horrified, fearful of William's reaction when he learned of the pleasures she had felt in the Ghost's bed.
A short while ago the Ghost had ventured from the tent, no doubt leaving her in peace. She heard shouting beyond the canvas walls but Lyra ignored it, too forlorn to care overly much for the rebels who were returning to camp from scouting and raiding.
The tent flap jerked aside and Lyra glanced up, expecting it to be Benjamin.
It was Gabriel.
She was about to greet him, but the words stuck in her throat. Gabriel looked deranged. His handsome face a thunderhead. He approached her slowly, his eyes chips of fury, his mouth set tight.
Lyra had never expected to sense violence in Gabriel and it shocked her utterly to sense it now. She rose warily and took several steps away from him. He had never given her reason to be fearful of him, and he was one of her few supporters in camp!
Wasn't he?
No, not now. Far from it.
"Gabriel, what is it?" She asked, her voice shaking more than a little.
"The Butcher," he managed to hiss. He was utterly enraged, Lyra could feel it coming off him in waves.
"What, Gabriel?" She asked quietly, trying to keep calm.
"The Butcher..." he said again, his face stone, his eyes a horror. He took another step toward her. He seemed positively unhinged but at the same time, steady and implacable. "The Butcher - your fiancé - will pay."
Lyra felt the blood drain from her face.
What had William done? What terrible thing? What -
Before she could ask, or even think to ask, Gabriel was upon her.
"He must pay!" He shouted he pulled back his clenched fist and punched her. A white hot flash of pain flared across her cheek and Lyra was on the floor, screaming.
"Benjamin!" He was the first person she thought to scream out for. "Benjamin! Christ, help!"
"My father will not help you! The Butcher must pay!" The deranged Gabriel gripped the front of her bodice and Lyra twisted in his grip as much as his hold on her would allow, but his fist came crashing down again, white hot pain searing her jaw. With the taste of blood in her mouth, Lyra curled into a ball on the floor. She had the presence of mind to curl into the fetal position, knees drawn to her chest to protect the baby, as Gabriel reined down blows upon her arms, her back, her rump. She sobbed and begged to no avail.
Her hair was gripped painfully, her head wrenched back, his face blazed above hers and another punch sent her into darkness.
:::::::
"Stop!" Benjamin roared. "Gabriel! Stop!"
It took three of them - Benjamin, Curly and Skunk, to drag the enraged Gabriel off Lyra. The girl was a mess, blood and bruises, her white hair matted red.
"Christ," Benjamin muttered as he checked the unconscious girl. At least she was still alive. "Son..." He shook his head, shocked to the core.
"She's dead! Burned alive, the Butcher burned her alive! The entire village, her parents! Anne... Oh, my God, my wife! My child!"
Gabriel collapsed to his knees and retched right there on the floor of the tent. Benjamin kneeled down beside his sone and drew him into his arms.
"Son..." he had no idea what else to say. His own grief welled within, stricken speechless with this latest loss.
Gabriel's body shuddered in his arms once, then stilled.
"Son?" Benjamin ventured.
"He must pay, Papa," Gabriel said firmly, with deadly intent. He glanced up at his father, tears leaving tracks in the dirt on his cheeks.
"We can't - I will not kill Lyra. She might be carrying my child, by now."
Gabriel cast a glance at the unconscious girl - the girl he had attacked himself.
"Then Tavington must pay with his own blood," he said, his voice implacable. "He must be killed."
"That he must, son." Benjamin agreed. Gabriel lurched to his feet, and after a long, searching gaze, turned and left the tent.
Benjamin turned to Lyra, picked her up and placed her on the cot.
"Is she alright?" Skunk asked, his voice filled with concern.
"I don't know," Benjamin sighed. "Lyra?" he called and shook her shoulder. "She's out cold."
Curly and Skunk exchanged a glance, while Benjamin felt her head gently, checking for damage.
"The men will be out for blood now, not just Gabriel," Curly said carefully. "She is not safe here, Ben."
"I know," Benjamin could feel no soft spots that would indicate a cracked skull. "The two of you will keep guard on her night and day," he said.
No, her skull was intact but Christ, she was a mess. He fetched some water and a cloth, began dabbing her face and hair, cleaning away the blood. He winced to see the bruises already forming, along her jaw. There would be no coupling for a few days, he strongly suspected she would be waking to quite a bit of pain.
With a heavy sigh, he covered her with the blanket, and rose.
"I better go and find Gabriel," he said to the other two men. "He is in a rage and will need to be talked down."
"He'll probably be in Reverend Oliver's tent," Skunk offered. "We'll stay here."
"Ben!" Danvers darted in abruptly "He's gone. Oliver's gone with him - it was his flock that was murdered. About twenty more men have gone with him."
"Gone where!" Benjamin snapped.
"After the Butcher."
"Fuck!" Benjamin darted out of the tent, throwing orders over his shoulder for the men to ready themselves as he ran for his horse.
:::::::::::::::::::
Another A/N:
I hope you don't think Gabriel was too out of character - he was in a right rage in movie after Anne's death, and I can imagine him being deranged and violent as I've written him here...
Smiley - It makes me wonder who would win a duel between the two of them - just a one on one saber to saber duel. Hehe - Tavington of course.
:-)
Lisette - thanks, I'm glad you liked the chapter!
