The Border Lord and the Lady Read Free Page A

a friend returned from Italy of the stories being bruited about Firenze by one Signore Vincente di Alba regarding Luciana Maria Pietro d’Angelo. Some gossips even said her father had spirited the girl away because she was with child. Robert Bowen knew that not to be true, for the Pietro d’Angelos had been in London for over a year now. His friend had also told him that Signore di Alba was heavily in debt, and had convinced his creditors that he would soon have a wealthy wife when Master Pietro d’Angelo returned with his daughter.
    “Do you believe me, my lord?” Luciana said softly, gazing up at him with doe eyes. She pressed herself against him.
    The earl laughed softly, recognizing her budding lust. “Soon, little
one,” he promised, stroking the top of her silken head. “We shall not tarry on our way to the altar.”
    Several days later the wedding contracts were signed in her father’s London hall, the priest from Westminster who had drawn them up overseeing the formality. The spiritual blessing would be given and the ceremony celebrated shortly afterwards. Then the Earl of Leighton would take his bride home to Leighton Hall in Gloucestershire, where her duties as mistress of his house would begin as she prayed for sons.
    Luciana was almost weak with her excitement. She took Donna Clara aside. “You are certain I am still a virgin?” she demanded of her companion. “The old witch knew what she was doing?”
    “Her examination showed his fingers had slightly torn your maidenhead, but that it was still intact, Madonna,” the older woman said. “But to make sure your bridegroom is fully satisfied we shall begin this day to treat your sheath and its opening with alum to shrink it. It will make it difficult at first for his cock to penetrate into your body. He will be so aroused by it, and by your cries of innocence, he will not notice that your maidenhead gives way easily. And there should be some blood. But you shall also secrete a small chicken’s bladder of blood to break in your bridal bed so the earl will have no doubt as to your virtue, bambina mia .”
    “If my passage is tight it will hurt,” Luciana complained. “I felt his cock through my gown as he held me. He is a large man.”
    “You must bear a little pain, Madonna, so your husband will be content in his mind that he is the only one to have trod your love path. Better that than a lifetime of suspicion,” Donna Clara reminded the girl.
    “My father says you are to remain in England with me,” Luciana noted.
    “I am pleased to do so, for I am devoted to you, Madonna, and not just because we are linked by a small blood tie. I will always keep your secrets,” Donna Clara said softly, “and I will always see to your best interests.”

    “Old crow,” Luciana said affectionately. “Still, I am glad you will be with me, but you must begin to treat me with more respect now that I am to be a great lady.” Secretly she was relieved her longtime companion was remaining. Donna Clara was often the voice of reason for the girl, and Luciana was intelligent enough to realize it. She would have someone with whom to speak her native tongue, and who could advise her wisely.
    The Church’s blessing of the Earl of Leighton’s marriage to Luciana Maria Pietro d’Angelo took place on a bright May morning. A feast was held afterwards, the invited guests coming from the community of wealthy foreign merchants in London, as well as several of the earl’s acquaintances. The newly married couple would remain the night in her father’s house. Less than an hour after the bridal pair had been formally put to bed Luciana’s genuine screams of agony as her bridegroom’s cock penetrated her could be heard briefly in the hall where the guests lingered. There were nods of approval in Master Pietro d’Angelo’s direction, and he smiled and nodded back in return. The rumors set in motion by Signore di Alba would now be put to rest, and he could return to his