The Vixen of Valden Ch. 01

This is something new and different for me. I realise I have a few stories going on and they are all still being written, but it will take some time due to other commitments. I'm usually not big on historical themes so to speak, but after coming across a few of late, a little scene popped up in my head and refused to leave and so here is the first chapter of The Vixen of Valden.

I hope you enjoy it.

--

Arabella Lark's eyes swept the ballroom surreptitiously. Although she was late and it was well into the evening, she wasn't one to make grand entrances. She could hardly stand the bourgeois and the only people that were worse, were the ones who actually had money. Unfortunately she was one of them. The thought made her pause, and smile to herself, but it didn't last long when she found she was seated near Edward Heath and Henry Winstead, and not fresh pickings like she'd hoped. Sitting at table she glanced at the dance floor and discreetly perused the men. Perhaps, all wouldn't be lost tonight.

"Miss Lark, how lovely of you to grace us with your presence." Edward had returned to his seat, giving her the once over as his eyes lingered unabashedly on her cleavage.

Arabella didn't proffer her hand. "Mr. Heath." She nodded in acknowledgement.

A shadow crossed his face and she sensed his annoyance. They'd had sex a few seasons ago—it was unimpressive and Arabella had told him so. Unfortunately it had only made him desperate to try again, and not run away with a wounded ego. She hid a smile, no doubt he would have slept his way across town through all the brothels. No girl worth their salt whether it was someone waiting to be married off or a chamber maid would sleep with him—especially if they valued their reputation or livlihood, and the whores? Well they got paid, so of course they'd tell him what he wanted to hear. Then there was Arabella... This time she couldn't suppress the smile on her face.

"Might I ask what you find so amusing?" Edward persisted, his brown eyes searching hers.

It was a shame actually, he wasn't a bad man. He was pleasant enough to look at: tall, medium build, a full head of blond hair. He came from a reasonable family, but Arabella was not interested.

That fact was enough to drive her father insane, who'd tried several times to marry her off. She'd never been short of suitors, but the success rate had spawned rumours that she was going to wind up a spinster—that was if she wasn't already. The gossipers would never say that to her face, but Arabella didn't care.

"Nothing Mr. Heath" She wasn't rude, but her tone told him she wasn't going to continue the conversation.

"Miss Lark, your father requests your presence." Arabella looked up to see Stanley, smiling politely.

"Of course Stanley." She stood up and shot him a glance that said what does he want now?

Stanley shot back a sympathetic look and she sighed. Her father was up to his match-making schemes again. Surely he would've given up by now—Arabella was twenty-eight and for a moment, the thought made her feel a little guilty. Twenty-eight was far too old for him to continue attempting to marry her off and no doubt in some ways it made him somewhat of a laughing stock. If it wasn't for the fact that he was far wealthier than his contemporaries, the gossip or treatment likely would have been far worse.

Arabella had managed to force the last few men to withdraw their proposals. It did make her sad that her father had offered to compensate them handsomely, not to mention the knowledge of her inheritance which was substantial in itself.

Arriving at his table, her father stood up and embraced her, kissing her affectionately on the cheek. "Arabella dear."

"Father." She gave him a genuine smile.

"Darling, I'd like you to meet—"

She almost missed the name, overwhelmed by the sinking disappointment in her chest.

"Mr. Ezra Black."

Arabella turned to appraise him coolly, and found her eyes sweeping upwards and meeting his dark gaze. He stood almost a head above her. She extended her hand.

"Mr. Black."

"Miss Lark," his voice was smooth and deep as he held her hand, his lips brushing against her fingers. "Delighted," he drawled, sounding as though he was anything but.

Arabella almost snatched her hand back.

"Now why don't you two go dance." Her father looked pleased with himself and Arabella ground her teeth, smiling tightly.

"May I?" Ezra tugged her hand gently, guiding her to the dance floor.

--

Ezra proved to be quite the gentlemen and an adept dancer, although Arabella refused to make eye contact with him as they circled the dancefloor.

"Miss Lark."

This time she looked up. "Mr. Black."

He watched her face, but didn't say anything and Arabella sighed.

"Mr Black. It's fine you don't have to dance with me. I'm sure whatever my father offered you was incredibly attractive, but I can assure you it will not work out. Please feel you've done your best and we can call it a night on the dancing."

Arabella's brow furrowed at his silence. "Mr. Black?"

"I see."

"I'm glad you do." She looked over at her empty seat.

"You father hasn't offered me anything, although he did mention a proposal."

She sighed in exasperation. "Let me make this easier for you. He will likely offer you an amount that will raise your eyebrows, provided that you marry me."

"Mmm."

"Yes, mmm."

"You don't look like someone who would have difficulty getting married."

Arabella suddenly smiled slyly. "Mr. Black, you are absolutely correct. I do not have difficulty, but I'm twenty-eight, far past the supposed marrying age."

He continued as he hadn't heard her. "Even the coldest, or most uptight women can still manage find a husband."

For a moment Arabella stared at him with her mouth open, and then she laughed, unable to stop until tears rolled down her face.

Ezra looked at her in confusion, as though she'd suddenly lost her mind.

Dabbing at her eyes, the laughter finally died away and she glanced to the side, realising they'd stopped dancing, but were close enough to the edge of the dancefloor so as not to be in the way of other couples.

"Oh my." She smiled. "We're you expecting me to slap you? Do not presume to know me Mr. Black." With that Arabella turned on her heel, said goodbye to her father and left the ball.

--

Erza was almost slack-jawed at her departure. She was right, he was expecting her to slap him or at the very least be angry, and instead, she looked at him as though he'd just said the funniest thing in the entire universe. He actually would have laughed himself if he wasn't so surprised—her laughter was infectious, and he found himself smiling. There was no doubt that Arabella Lark was a beautiful woman, from her ebony to her dark eyes, pale pink lips, but Erza Black had seen plenty of beautiful women in his life... He pictured her face again laughing and conceded that she was probably one of the most beautiful women he'd ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on, but what was wrong her?

--

Arabella dismounted her horse, giving it an affectionate pat, her breath misting in the darkness. She looked around carefully before emerging from the trees and heading across to the old barn.

"You're late."

"Yes. What are you going to do, spank me?" Arabella drew her hood back.

Zach's arms snaked around her and pulled her body against his, kissing her hard, bruising her lips. Eventually she pried herself away.

"Oh your knees," she said quietly.

Zach slowly peeled her dress upwards, and her legs prickled against the cool air as she felt his warm lips against her thigh. The sound of her breathing filled the barn as she tried to control herself, grateful she was leaning against a post. He slipped his tongue between her lips and she trembled as it swept over her tightening clit, feeling the jolt strike through her body. Arabella clamped a hand tightly over her mouth as she laboured erratically, Zach between her legs, unable to stop herself from whimpering as he slid two fingers inside her and continued to tease her with his mouth. One of her hands suddenly reached out and gripped his hair tightly, causing Zach to grunt in pain, but he didn't stop, instead moving his fingers quickly as he lapped at her wet cunt. Almost incoherent, Arabella was suddenly coming, when Zach grabbed her and pushed her down onto the hay, sliding inside her in one swift movement, clamping his hand over her mouth to stop her from screaming out.

"Fuck me," she moaned from under his fingers, spreading her legs wider.

There was nothing like this, she vaguely thought as her eyes rolled back into her head. Zach's mouth covered hers as he thrust into to her and she pushed her hips up against his.

"Fuck Arabella," he cried.

Oh no, she knew that sound.

"Pull out," she said between gritted teeth.

Zach managed to withdraw, but not far enough as he came all over her skirts with Arabella watching in disbelief. She should have been angry, but after a moment, she started to laugh and she sat up shaking her head.

"Zachary, really?"

He looked appalled. "I'm sorry."

It only made Arabella laugh harder as she looked at him on his knees, full clothed with his semi-erect cock hanging out.

She sighed. "It's okay."

"I-I" Zach shook his head. "Arabella, you make me crazy, I've been thinking about you all week."

She giggled. "Well you should have taken care of it."

He lay beside her in the hay and she back lay down next to him.

"Arabella."

"Hmm..."

"Marry me."

"Oh Zach," she whispered, looking in his eyes, and brushing his light hair from his forehead. "You know we can't."

"And why not?" he demanded.

"Zach," she sighed. "It would never work out."

Zachary Fairchild, was from quite a wealthy family in the neighbouring shire. They'd met a polo match and he had turned out to be incredibly enthusiastic.

"Why? I have my own fortune, you have yours. I can't see why, it would be mutually beneficial." He leaned over and kissed her.

Arabella smiled and chuckled. "Mutually beneficial?" Her voice lowered, "I suppose meaning we could fuck without being clandestine... Zach, I'm almost ten years old than you." And while I love being with you, I'm just not in love with you.

"So?"

"So, it wouldn't work out. Trust me."

He remained quiet and Arabella quickly kissed him and sat up. "Let's hope I can slip in without any enquiring as to what has happened to my dress."

--

Arabella entered quietly through the kitchen and carefully turned the corner, only to almost collide with one of the maids.

"Molly!" she gasped quietly.

"Miss Arabella." Molly gave her a sly look, her eyes trailing over her from head to toe. "Someone smells like they've had a good fucking."

Arabella returned her sly grin at Molly's dishevelled appearance. "Perhaps you're just smelling yourself."

Molly hid her laugh by biting down on her lower lip and Arabella leaned in closer. "Molly, a gentleman had an accident..." On my dress, she mouthed pointing down at her skirts.

Molly's eyes widened and she slapped her hand over her mouth as her shoulder's shook.

Arabella put her hands on her hips. "It needs to be cleaned."

"Yes miss," whispered Molly, still trying not to laugh.

Arabella rolled her eyes. "Get it from my room as soon as you can. I'm going upstairs now to take it off."

Molly straightened and nodded, as Arabella turned and made her way to her room.

--

The next morning Arabella smiled as she descended the staircase. She'd not only slept well but the events of the previous night caused her to chuckle. She passed the drawing room and saw her father reading.

"Father." Arabella kissed him on the cheek and tenderly stroked his silvery hair.

Her father pulled his spectacles and looked at her face. "Ah, my beautiful Arabella." He touched her hand. "Where were you last night?"

She straightened and smiled at him without skipping a beat. "With friends, why? Did you need me for something father?"

--

Ezra watched Arabella as she perched the edge of her father's armchair, in blue dress. As simple as it was it didn't hide the way hugged against her slider waist, gently flaring over her hips. She hadn't noticed him, but he had certainly noticed her as she smiled. It seemed Arabella was in good spirits this morning.

--

"Well dear..." He sat up and put his spectacles down. "I returned with Mr. Black last night, hoping we could all have a nightcap. Unfortunately you hadn't returned, so I invited him for breakfast."

Arabella's head whirled around so fast that Ezra thought she was going to fall of the armchair. He noted with disappointment as the smile evaporated from her face.

"Mr. Black, I apologise, I did not see you there." Arabella stood up carefully and glanced back at her father with a careful smile, all the while bristling. How could he? Her father had tried many things over the years, only to be thwarted by Arabella's cunning. It wasn't that she enjoyed it, but she refused to marry any of those men. As much as she loved her father, his greatest happiness would be her greatest misery.

Thankfully Shelly, entered the drawing room with a small curtsy. "Breakfast is served."

--

Arabella tried not to pick at her food, but it was impossible. She'd lost her desire for food, while her father and Mr. Ezra Black retained their healthy appetites, conversation included.

"Arabella, I have some things to attend to. Would you be so kind as to show Mr. Black the gardens."

Arabella clenched her jaw. "Of course father," she said as politely as she could muster. This was not how she expected to be spending her Saturday morning, babysitting her father's idea of suitor. She looked at Mr. Black. "If you could please excuse me for a moment while I freshen up. I shall meet you at the bottom of the stairs."

Both her father and Mr. Black stood as she rose to leave the room. The moment she was out the door she quickly raced up the stairs and threw herself on her bed. Why was he doing this to her now? Was this his final resort? They were both stubborn and Arabella knew at once, this was going to be her most difficult challenge yet.

--

There was a light knock at the door.

"Enter."

Molly poked her head around the corner of the door. Arabella ushered her in quickly with her hand.

"Who's he dapper gentleman?"

Arabella rolled her eyes. "You too? Maybe you should entertain him."

"What? He's not that bad. He's probably the best looking one yet." Molly grinned.

"Well why don't you take him around the back," Arabella said slyly, giving Molly a sideways glance.

Molly twirled a strand of blonde hair around her finger. She was short, voluptuous and busty, all the things that Arabella was not. It was a wonder she hadn't gotten herself in more trouble, her baby blue eyes peeking out from under her cap.

"Well.." She returned Arabella's sly smile, but then sighed. "Somehow I don't think he'd go for it, and well, no need to make the gardener jealous."

Arabella laughed. That was true, Jeremy probably wouldn't take to kindly to Molly's tricks in his garden of all places.

--

The cloudless sky was blue as far as the eye could see. Arabella led Ezra into the garden and they walked in silence along the treeline in the shadows, Arabella wishing she was anywhere but in the garden with Mr. Black.

Ezra quietly watched the woman who walked beside him. He knew she wasn't pleased, even if she was good at disguising it. Her ebony hair revealed glints of maple, as they passed through streams of sunlight.

"Mr. Black, what are you playing at?" Arabella's voice cut through his thoughts.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said..." She turned quickly and faced him."What are you playing at? What do you want? Why are you here?"

"I'm here because you father invited me."

He watched as she took a sharp intake of breath, clearly infuriated as her eyes narrowed on him.

Arabella stared at him for a moment and then her face slowly turned into a smile. Two can play this game, she thought.

"Mr. Black, are you desperate to get married?"

Ezra watched as as smile upturned her lips and realised that, her being angry was probably better than her smiling at him. He blinked for a moment as registered what she'd said.

"No Miss Lark, I am not."

She nodded her head thoughtfully. "And you recall what I told you last night?"

Ezra paused. "Yes, I do recall what you told me last night.

"So then a well-educated man such as yourself—and I believe that it would not be so presumptuous of me to assume you are a well-educated man—understands why he is here."

"Meaning? Miss Lark."

She continued to smile, regarding him shrewdly. "That you understand my father, if he hasn't done so already between our last meeting and this one, will make that proposal. Mark my words, he will not stop unless you decline, and since you are not desperate to get married, it would be safe to assume that you will decline?"

Erza opened his mouth, but Arabella continued.

"Surely a well-educated man with a stature of some regard, would not knowingly lead another gentlemen on? Unless..."

Ezra frowned. "Unless what?"

"Unless Mr. Black, you are not who you purport to be, and your intentions are untoward."

Ezra's eyes widened, as he cleared his throat. Arabella had blatantly insulted his integrity without even so much as knowing who he was. She was intentionally riling him and it had worked.

"Miss Lark," he drawled. "I see that you are concerned for father's well-being, something I must commend you on. Many daughters of Valden are rather..." He paused. "Let me put it this way, it appears you are a guileless woman..." Ezra paused again, enjoying the effect of the double-entendre. "So I imagine being frank is something you do not find offensive, so how should I say it... Many daughters of Valden are merely selfish, spoilt and naive, and hardly worthy of the names that they carry."

Arabella suddenly smiled, flashing Ezra a heart-stopping grin, causing him to almost forget what he'd just said.

"Mr. Black, I am ever-so-pleased that we appear to share similar sentiments in some regards." Arabella's gaze openly trailed over him and paused in the middle.

Shocked, Ezra stood frozen under her scrutiny, unable to believe what Arabella was doing.

"However, it still does not answer my question Mr. Black. Apart from my father's invitation, what are you doing—"

"There you both are." William Lark approached them with a big smile on his face. "What do you think of our gardens, Mr. Black?"

"I think there are many things of beauty in your garden Mr. Lark, you must be quite proud." Ezra stared pointedly Arabella, who returned his stare with a look of nonchalance. It was a far cry from the giggling embarrassment that those type of comments usually drew, the only difference was, he meant every word.

--

Oh the gauntlet had been thrown! Arabella smiled to herself, whatever Mr. Black was playing at, she was going to enjoy this—thoroughly. She excused herself from the gardens and left her father alone with Mr. Black.

--

The two men walked along silently for several minutes before William paused and turned to Ezra.

"Mr. Black, I hope you do not mind, but I wish to speak of this proposal that I mentioned to you."

Ezra nodded. "Go on Mr. Lark."

The silver-haired man looked up at the sky, his gaze wistfully drawing over the horizon. "My Arabella—all I've ever wanted was for her happiness and it seems I've even failed at that." He turned and looked at Ezra. "It's common knowledge that she has had many suitors, yet for one reason or another, it has never resulted in marriage. I do not know why she is so averse to it."

"Mr. Lark, forgive me for being so forthright, but have you asked your daughter?"

William sighed. "I've attempted to broach the subject many a time, but alas my Arabella is no longer a child. She quick, deft and easily avoid or deflects any attempt to discuss why. I do admit, she has never appeared to be unhappy. She is not for want of anything, yet she had never really asked for anything either. I should..." He chuckled. "I should perhaps be grateful. I am not a blind man, I see the heart of many of the daughters in this shire, and while I know my Arabella is not perfect she is not preoccupied with status or money really for that fact." William looked back over the gardens. "I suppose that's why I find it so difficult to accept. She would make a wonderful wife—of course, for the right gentleman."