The Wicked Game (A Wicked Game Novel)

  The Wicked Game

  by Olivia Fuller

  This is an original work of fiction by

  Olivia A. Fuller

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2012 Olivia A. Fuller

  1.93

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Something Wicked sample!

  If you ever gave me a book, let me borrow a book, or recommended a book to me, this one is for you.

  The Wicked Game Series

  The Wicked Game

  Something Wicked

  Love and Other Wicked Games

  Connect with me online:

  Did you love it? Don't forget to let me know by rating it online!

  Join my mailing list!

  http://oliviafuller.com/

  http://www.facebook.com/oliviafullerauthor

  https://twitter.com/OliviaFAuthor

  http://www.pinterest.com/OliviaFAuthor

  Part One

  Prologue

  England, June 1792

  Angela Bennett never asked to be special, but it seemed from the very beginning that God had other plans. By all accounts her birth was a gift from the heavens and at the news of this miracle her entire family burst into celebration. There were parties and dinners and, for heaven’s sake, poems, written in praise of this beautiful baby girl. At two weeks old a ball was given in baby girl Bennett’s honor. In their ecstasy, the family even commissioned ice figures in the likeness of their new female family member. The sparkling sculptures were placed at the entrance of the hall but no one even noticed. The sparkle in the eyes of the family members as they gazed at her had no comparison.

  To anyone who did not know the Bennett family their exorbitant celebrations were baffling. Why celebrate so lavishly for a child who would never be the heir and a mere female at that? The Bennetts had heirs, they even had spares, and every one of them was strong and healthy. To an outsider, the Bennetts were the perfect family; proud, ambitious, and full of males. But that was exactly the problem. They were all males. The only female Bennetts were Bennetts by marriage. There were no female Bennetts by blood.

  Since the time of her great-grandfather this had been the case. Six sons for him and four more for her grandfather. Her own father had two sons… And then came her. She was the first female born to the Bennett family in four generations and so, in a time when women were nothing more than wives and mothers, something pretty to hold on the arm, and always there but never really there, she became something more.

  Something much more.

  Though the Bennett family had long prayed and hoped for a baby girl, they had not expected one. So when baby girl Bennett was born, the family did not have any appropriate names picked out for her. For the first month of her life she was known simply as Sweetness.

  After all, what name could describe the feeling that the Bennetts felt as they gazed at the soft angelic face of their one and only true Bennett girl? In the end it was settled when her nine year old brother, Arthur Bennett, looked into her bassinet as she slept and called her, “Angel, gift from God.” The family realized then what they had always known.

  She was named Angela.

  With so many male relatives, Angela had no shortage of protectors. There was also no shortage of confusion. Since there had not been any female Bennetts before, none of the males knew what to expect or how to act. The one thing that they did know was that girls were expected to marry one day and then, leave the family. After waiting four generations for Angela, the Bennett men were not prepared to let her go anytime soon. And thus it became known throughout the country that while tradition dictated she was available, Miss Angela Bennett certainly was not available. Her brooding male relatives were going to make sure of that.

  Her mother, Lady Isabella Cheston, had different plans. Like many others she saw Angela’s birth as a miracle but she also saw something more. She felt that Angela was given to the Bennetts for a divine purpose. Her daughter’s status as the only real Bennett woman had given her and the family great popularity and attention. Lady Cheston saw potential and opportunity in the situation. She saw opportunity to raise her daughter’s status from mere lady to something greater and thus, to raise the status of the family along with her.

  Beginning at the tender age of two, Angela was given her own governess. She was a very bright child and had no trouble learning anything that was presented to her. In the morning she studied math and English, history and science. By night it was eloquence, pianoforte, and dancing. Now here was a girl who was well rounded. No one could dispute it. Everyone admired it. And Angela became the most eligible woman that society had ever known.

  By the time she had reached the age of one and twenty it was clear that she had become everything that society had ever wanted.

  And that was precisely the problem.

  Chapter One

  England, May 1813

  Andrew Wilson was the richest man in the world. He wasn’t a prince or a duke. He wasn’t even a lord. He didn’t own any land or have a large stash of money somewhere. Come to think of it, all he truly owned were the clothes on his back and the small bag of silver that The Dowager Countess of Dillard had given him. And of course, most importantly, he now owned himself.

  Free…

  FREE!

  No, he had absolutely no possessions but he owned his own destiny and that was worth more than any worldly riches he could possess.

  It was such an exuberant feeling that was pooling inside of him that he began to wonder why he had never said the word out loud. He pondered the idea, only to stop himself; afraid that if he thought about it too much he would wake up from this dream. Instead he would just try to say the word and see how it felt. He felt the sound start soft and slow in his throat. It vibrated across his vocal cords with a slight tickle and moved its way into his mouth. He felt the sound roll smoothly over his tongue and at last, rush through his lips.

  “free.”

  But the word was no more than a whisper. It was strange to him how one word could make him feel. The word felt foreign to his body, alien, as if he had suddenly sprouted a third arm. He had long since set his mind to know that he was free, hadn’t he? It seemed his body was still having trouble accepting it.

  He cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and tried again.

  “Free.”

  This time was a little bit better. The word was no longer a whisper. It was by no means loud but it did sound determined.

  Andrew felt a soft wave of comfort run through his body. It started in his head and slowly, but surely, spread over and through every inch of his being. He felt a sensation of lightness and detachment. It was as if nothing could touch him. Nothing coul
d touch him ever. Not anymore. Not ever again. Even if it did, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing could hold him back or bring him down. Nothing could take away this bliss. He was floating now, drunk on the knowledge of his freedom.

  Suddenly he felt lightheaded and realized he had been holding his breath. Andrew took two awkward steps towards a tree by the path and leaned fast against its hard trunk. He slid his body down and landed with a thump in a sitting position, his back still against the tree trunk. As his feelings and his awareness of the real world became clearer, Andrew began to think.

  Mostly he thought about his mother. He did that a lot now a day. He had not known her at all but she was ever present to him. She was the reason, after all, that he had spent the first twenty-five years of his life in near slavery. He didn’t know all the details of her life, in fact he knew hardly anything at all, but what he did know was enough. His mother had been a bond servant and when she died giving birth to him, her debt passed on to him.

  Andrew never knew what had brought his mother to this sad situation. The other servants gossiped and Andrew always listened intently to the hushed voices, praying that one day he might have enough pieces to finish the puzzle of his life. But despite his feelings that there must be more to the story, no one else seemed to know the entire truth either. All he had learned in his years of listening to whispers was that his mother had once been a maid in the house of The Earl of Dillard, surname also Dillard, but one day, she just disappeared. Four weeks later she was back on their doorstep; pregnant, unmarried, and claiming the father was dead. She begged Lord and Lady Dillard to take her back. She would do anything she had to. Anything. In the end the Dillards did take her back but at a high price. She agreed to be a bond servant…indefinitely.

  Andrew sighed and put his head in his hands. His path had been set the day he was born.

  Andrew had never thought too much of Lord Dillard but he had always been fond of Lady Dillard. She was fond of him too. At an early age she recognized that Andrew had a sharp mind and she was not about to let it go to waste. She knew her husband would never agree to educate a bond servant but the Lady Dillard had a sharp mind too and she came up with a plan. Her only son, The Viscount Winthrop, and his only son, Mr. James Dillard, had lived in the Dillard’s home since Lord Winthrop’s wife died giving birth to a still born baby girl. And of course, as an Earl in training, Mr. Dillard received the best tutors possible.

  Andrew was only five years old at the time but it didn’t take him long to figure out why every day during Mr. Dillard’s lessons he was sent into the room to watch out the window for a messenger who never arrived. Once he realized what was going on, Andrew took full advantage of the situation. He listened intently and secretly each day, making sure to take in every bit of knowledge that he could. Andrew knew, he just knew, that one day he would be able to put the things he learned to good use. He dreamed about it and when the mood struck him, he prayed about it too. One day he would be free; one day he would be free to use what he had learned.

  Then when Andrew was five and twenty, Lord Dillard fell very ill. Within a week he was dead and Andrew had hope for his life. Now that her husband was gone, Andrew was certain that Lady Dillard would free him from his servitude.

  Andrew was right.

  For the first time in his life Andrew swelled with pride and joy and the ability to do whatever it was that he pleased. As his first free act he went out and did what any man of that age does. He went to a pub and he got drunk. All through the night Andrew felt a tension growing in his body. It was part excitement but also part fear. The more he drank the more tension he felt, until at last he thought he might burst from the strain. Andrew knew these feelings were coming from his head but he was drunk and his head wasn’t working.

  His body was working.

  So when some other men left the pub to meet certain female acquaintances, Andrew went along.

  His companion was slightly plump but in a way that made her truly womanly. She had undone her long brown hair, at his request, and the soft curls pooled down to her waist, mimicking the curves of her body. But suddenly he didn’t care about anything else but the feeling building up inside of him. And so he took her. Oh god, he took her. He had been with women before but this time was different. He was free, free to own her as well as himself. And he did. He made her his. With each rhythmic movement he felt a sense of ease. She shuddered. His tension released and he let out a sigh of relief and pleasure. His body relaxed and he knew that this time, he was truly a man.

  So it was no surprise to him that it was this moment and the girl whose name he would never know, that came to his mind as he stood by the trees and summoned the courage to say the word once more. He stood up and tightened his diaphragm. In one swift move he threw his hands in the air and tilted back his head.

  “FREEEEEEEEEEE!”

  His voice echoed through the sky. Frightened birds took flight squawking, and setting the trees into motion. The leaves swished and rustled. It was almost as if nature was talking to him. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The forest was alive and he was alive.

  He was a man.

  He was free.

  ***

  Angela pushed herself down further in the tub and sighed. She had been soaking in the bath water for quite a while and was finally feeling a slight bit of ease. But now the water was getting cold and her fingers and toes were starting to wrinkle, so for now it was time to leave this safe haven and return back to the world. Under no circumstances was she looking forward to it. If it was up to her she would stay in the safe bubble of the bath water forever. What did it matter that she was starting to shiver or that her skin was pruney; anything would better than having to attend yet another social event.

  But since when did a mere woman have a say in the matter? Like all women she belonged to her parents and her family and even to the social world. They all controlled her future and she had no say.

  “I will never have any say.” Angela murmured these words unconsciously and they rang in her ears in the solitude of the bedroom. Maybe if she just stayed here, naked and in the bath, then she wouldn’t have to go. But she knew that would never work. Even in this condition she was not truly free. No doubt her mother would send someone up to fetch her and then drag her downstairs exposed to the world. As long as she was at the party her mother wouldn’t care. Besides, naked as a jaybird was bound to attract more attention than a stunning gown.

  As amusing as this little scene was in her mind, it would not be amusing at all if it became reality. With this thought, Angela finally gave in and rose up from the false safety of the water.

  “I’ll get enough attention as it is.” Yes, she would much prefer to be dressed when she arrived at Lady Sutherland’s party.

  Even still she took her time as she used the soft linen to pat herself dry. Just a few more minutes of peace and solitude. That was all she needed. But apparently she wasn’t going to get it.

  From outside, a sudden bellowing broke the spell of her silence.

  First there was a loud screaming and then the whole forest began to move as birds screeched and took flight. Angela quickly threw her soft, muslin robe around her still damp body and rushed to the window to see what was going on.

  She squinted her eyes as she tried to pinpoint exactly what was going on and exactly who was making all of the commotion. After scanning the horizon she finally found the source; a scrawny boy with his hands above his head, screaming at the top of his lungs. Angela didn’t immediately recognize him but then again, she supposed she probably wouldn’t. Servants and household help came and went frequently in manors such as this. She had tried, once, to become acquainted with as many of the staff as possible but with the comings and goings she had been unsuccessful, and thus sent into even more despair; a servant after all, could come and go as he pleased in the world, but she was still here shackled to the wants and desires of others.

  Angela pulled her robe more tightly around her and slowly sat d
own in the window seat. The spring breeze coming in the window was cool and soothing. She breathed the air deeply into her lungs. The scents that perfumed the air during this time of year had always played with her heart and brought joy to her otherwise mediocre days. With each breath a different fragrance filled her nostrils and she savored each bit as it slowly moved through her nose and filled her body. With her eyes closed Angela could actually taste the flavor of each new flower and the leaves on the trees. This is wonderful, reverberated through her mind and she wished with all her soul that she might stay here forever just drinking in the day. The earth was waking up and the sweet aroma of new life overflowed in the air.

  New life. The very thought of it sent a shudder down her spine. Very soon Angela’s family would find a husband for her and the two of them would start a life together. Then they would make a life, most likely many lives, together. She was nearly one and twenty and by society standards had only been available for a few years but her mother had been thrusting her into the public eye since age thirteen.

  As overbearing as they could be, Angela truly loved and was thankful for her men. When she got right down to it she considered every male member of her family as one of her men, at times even her own father, but there were only three of them left unmarried and thus able to devote all of their time to thwarting her male suitors. God love her three men! Arthur and Daniel, her two eldest brothers, and Richard, a cousin: ages thirty, five and twenty, and four and twenty respectively.

  She knew that one day, someday, they would want her to be married but in the meantime she couldn’t blame them for protecting her, the only female. Her men were very effective at keeping away the attention that she didn’t want…then again no one knew that she didn’t want the attention. She supposed that deep down her men knew her true feelings but in this world, feelings mattered less than women themselves.

  Angela supposed that most women her age craved the type of attention she received. The constant fawning, the gifts, the poems; while most women chased it, it chased Angela. She spent most of her time trying to keep from losing her lunch every time she was forced to listen to a sappy and pathetic poem describe a women who didn’t exist.