Plain and Proper by M J Marlow (beach read TXT) 📕

you to France. You are now a hostage of the Emperor.”
“I don’t want to go to France,” Marianne sobbed and sank back on the bed. Her tears were flowing down her cheeks. “I want to go home to my husband.”
“What you want, child,” Philippe laughed as he reached towards her and she flinched away from his touch, “ceased to be of any concern the moment your Grandfather left you this property.” He yanked her to him and his eyes were cold. “You are now the property of the Emperor of France. If you behave yourself, you will be treated like a princess. Otherwise, I understand that the Bastille has some very uncomfortable cells.” He shoved her towards the table. “Eat your dinner. Dominique went to a great deal of trouble to prepare it for you and, whatever else one may say about my sister, she is a very good cook.”
He left the room and locked the door. He could hear her sobbing as he went down the stairs and he shook his head. He was quite impressed with the child; she had not broken down as so many others he had taken did. She had actually stood there defying him and defending her friend from his insults. It was a shame he couldn’t have her for his brothel; she would delight his customers with her ferocity. But the Emperor himself had given her his protection and no man would dare lay hands on the girl now. He joined Marie at the dining room table and watched his pretty sister being forced to slave for them. He yanked Dominique to his side and forced her to her knees.
“You have been a very naughty girl, Dominique,” he said tightly. “What did you tell the noble Avondale about us that had him handing us our hats?” Dominique glared at him and remained silent. He slapped her across the face. “I would prefer not to beat you, sister; it distresses the little lady who is our unwilling hostess, but I shall.” He yanked her closer, his grip punishing on her arms. “Tell me!”
“I didn’t have to tell him anything,” Dominique spat at him. “He could see you for the slime you are!” She glared over at Marie. “And there’s no disguising what that one is!”
“Careful, little sister,” Philippe snapped as he shoved her to the floor, “or Marie might think you do not like her.” He kicked her in the side. “Finish your duties here and then go feed the men.”
Dominique did as she was told and hurried to the kitchens. She sank down a moment to steel herself for what was coming. Then she filled a bag with tin plates and cups and utensils, put the jug in a carry pouch on a strap over her shoulder and lifted the pot of stew off the fire with a thick towel. She took it to the lower flower that had been turned into a rough barracks for her brother’s men. They let her serve them and then shoved her into a corner and made her wait there. She did not fight as they amused themselves with her after dinner. It would do no good. Her brother had won and she was back in the life he had chosen for her when their father had died and he had seen that her pretty face could give him the money to make things happen. She finally struggled back to the kitchens several hours later and Marie was waiting for her.
“You’ll take this to the little lady, slave,” Marie ordered as she put three drops of laudanum into some water. She nodded to the stove where a pot was on the burner. “I’ve started water for her bath.” She looked at Dominique and put down the fabric bundle. “Put this on before you go up to her. We don’t want to distress the child, do we?” She waited and Dominique knew what the woman wanted to hear.
“You can’t drug her, Marie,” she said coldly. She did not want to tell them, but she knew the drug would harm the child. “The lady Strathmore is pregnant,” she continued as Marie raised her hand.
“This is rich!” Marie laughed in delight. “Two hostages for the price of one!” She set the water aside. “We won’t need to drug her to keep her obedient now!” She nodded to Dominique. “Change your clothing and take up a pail of the water.”
Dominique picked up the bundle and saw a simple dress of gray homespun and an apron; the cap wrapped in the apron declared this for what it was; the garments of a servant. She changed and went to fill a pail with the warmed water. Marie grabbed her arm as she headed for the stairs, and Dominique met the woman’s cold eyes.
“I’ll know if you pull anything, slave,” Marie told her firmly. “If you do, you’ll come to my bed tonight.” She shoved Dominique to the stairs. “Go! Attend to the lady.”
Marianne looked up from where she was lying as she heard the door being unlocked. She saw Dominique and the fresh bruises on her face. Marie came in with a pail of water and poured it into the tub in the next room. She laid out a clean nightgown and then went downstairs. The two women made several trips to fill the tub and by the time Marianne was in it she was feeling very tired. They helped her bathe and then got her dried off and in the nightgown. Dominique was allowed to remain to comb out Marianne’s hair and braid it for the night. And then she was gone, and Marianne cried herself to sleep.


Andrew was readying his men to pursue the kidnappers when Hugh rode in dirty and exhausted. He told the man where Marianne was and what little they knew about the people who had her. Philippe and his wife had taken Marianne and Dominique prisoner; Hugh confirmed what they had guessed. Andrew knew they would not hurt Marianne, so his worry was for Dominique. She had escaped her foul brother’s usage of her as his whore at great personal risk and was now back in that same situation. He could feel his blood boiling as he sent word to the War Office that a blockade should be put in place. They would try to take the girl out of England and by sea seemed the most efficient route. He tried to send Hugh home but the boy refused. He was going back with them to help.
“My brothers are keeping an eye on them, Lord Macalester,” Hugh said to the man. “They’ll be able to tell us how many we’re facing when we get there.”
Andrew nodded and allowed the boy to accompany them only if he got his father’s permission. He not only got permission, but Andrew found his force swelling as Hugh told him that his father, the Duke and his men, were already heading to the property to join Andrew’s forces there. If he were not so worried, he would have been touched by the display of support for his niece. If they rode quickly, they would be back at the coast property before D’arboe knew what hit him.
But Philippe was already aware of what was coming. He had received a message from another contact and been warned. He was ordered to get the girl back aboard the ship at once and take her to France himself; his contact would be waiting at Calais to take her on to Paris. He entered the room where Marianne was imprisoned and saw her reading. She got to her feet and watched as he removed the shackle from her ankle and then he clamped his hand on her arm and led her downstairs.
“I do not need to tell you, do I my lady,” he hissed as she saw Dominique being dragged out of the house; “that Dominique will be the one who suffers if you do or say anything that angers me?” Marianne shook her head and did not fight as she was led down the beach to a pair of waiting dinghys. She was lifted into one as if she was breakable as Dominique and Philippe joined her. The boats moved off and Marianne saw Marie and the other men watching. Marianne wondered if she was hallucinating as some of the sailors lifted their heads and smiled at her reassuringly. They looked a great deal like two of the Tremayne boys, Robert and Stephen.
“Your stateroom, Princess,” Philippe mocked as he led her to a cabin and shoved her and Dominique inside. She heard the door being locked but she was too tired to care now. She went to lie down on the bed and cried herself to sleep.
The voyage lasted two days due to storms and Marianne had never felt sicker in her life. This was worse than morning sickness, she thought; as Dominique did her best to tend her. Marianne had insisted that Dominique remain with her, or she would find a way to throw herself overboard. Philippe had been quite amused with her, but had allowed her request. The morning of the third day was just beginning to dawn when they arrived at Calais. She and Dominique were taken ashore and guided to a carriage. It was a very nice carriage and there were guards in very beautiful uniforms of blue and gold outside of it.
She heard one of them speaking to the man who had brought her and realized she was in France. Was she never to be free of this nightmare? Once she was in the Emperor’s hands, she would never see England again. He would lock her in the Bastille and she would die there alone and abused. What would happen to her child then? She could not let them get her to the Emperor, she told herself; she had to find a way to escape. She tried to get up and her legs would not support her. She heard an amused laugh and saw a man reaching out to help her back on to the seat.
“The effects of the sea voyage, Princess,” the tall man with thick black hair silvered at the temples and impossibly blue eyes said to her gently. “You will soon be right again.”
“This is not right,” Marianne sobbed. She looked at him desperately. “I don’t want to go with you. I want to go home.”
“This is your home now, Princess,” the man replied gently. “You have become a hostage of the Emperor himself. He was quite pleased to take you in after you gifted him with lands in England he can use to land his spies and his troops.”
“I did no such thing!” Marianne protested. “I was abducted from my home and forced here against my will!” She glared at him and he was quite amused by her ferocity. “You will let me go home now! I am not going to be kept here against my choice!”
“You think you have a choice?” the man choked. He laughed in delight. The Emperor was going to enjoy this child. She was really quite amusing. “Princess, you are amusing.”
“Quit calling me that!” Marianne snapped. “I am not a Princess.”
“You are now, Your Highness,” the man replied calmly. “The title was bestowed on you by the Emperor when he ‘adopted’ you as his own.” He opened a flask and poured a small amount of liquid into the cap. “Drink this, child. It will help you calm down.”
“I don’t want to be calm,” Marianne hissed and slapped the cap out of his hand. “I want to go home!” He grabbed her wrist and she slapped him across the face. He shook his head and slugged her. He could always blame that on D’arboe. The man was