An Unpaid Debt

Lizbeth felt like a goddess with all of the eyes in the room on her. But it was Baston that she watched for a response. He greeted her at the foot of the stairs and kissed her hand and asked about her gems.

"It is indeed a set, a gift. The pendant did not go with this neckline, my lord." She said with a vixenish smile, intimating that she indeed wore the matching gem, just not around her neck.

Charles had a mousy blond girl on his arm. She wore a modest gown and was the picture of propriety. Lizbeth had to stifle a laugh. His wife would never please him the way the women at the Abbey did. Charles' appetite would continue to be slaked by women that had learned pleasure.

Lord Baston asked her to dance, his strong hand curved in the small of her back.

"My lord, I am not used to being dressed like this anymore. My gown feels as if it weighs ten pounds. And even under all of these layers, My lord, I can feel my body reacting to you touch." SHe whispered, her voice warm and honeyed.
 
"It is indeed a set, a gift. The pendant did not go with this neckline, my lord."

The little vixen’s smile that bowed Lizbeth’s ruby red lips, at the coquettish gleam in her stunning eyes told Baston that the jewel was nestled against the girl’s clit just were he had placed it.

"My lord, I am not used to being dressed like this anymore. My gown feels as if it weighs ten pounds. And even under all of these layers, My lord, I can feel my body reacting to your touch." SHe whispered, her voice warm and honeyed.

“Tis a shame that you my sweet are staying with your mother………”

Baston had made no mention of Lizbeth’s father the man that had sold her body and soul to the Hellfire Club for their amusement and to maintain the sham of his position in society.


“…….And I must attend to my guests.”

He kissed her hand again and let it slip from his.

Charles with his mouse little blonde was not the only person she recognize from Thélème Abbey Lord Dashwood was studying Charles little blonde with a practiced eye through a monticule as Sarah clung to his and whispered in his ears behind her hand that scarcely hid the provocative nature of her suggestions concerning Charles innocent little mouse. When the Major Domo announced the minister of the ex-checker Lizbeth recognized him as one of the friars that had been Lord Baston’s hounds when they had made her their little bitch. Soon young Miss Dalton realized that some of the most prominent members of the government and society where friars at Thélème Abbey and that they had taken their pleasure from her supple young body and had done things to her that would scandalize the more prudent guests.


Lizbeth’s mother chattered away and admonished her for having let Charles Baston slip through her fingers. Her mother cooed and chattered about the notable guests.


“Oh Lizbeth look there it is lady Chatterley on Sir Francis Dashwood’s arm!”


Mrs. Dalton was almost breathless with excitement.


' You know she is Chairwoman of Her Majesty’s commission on Moral Decency .'


The Thought of Sarah a Lady never mind the Chair of a commission on Moral Decency was hardly the image of Sarah the redheaded Harlot, that Lizbeth knew so well. For the first time in months Miss Lizbeth Dalton was not the center of attention in fact no one seemed to take much notice of her except Sarah who smiled into her eyes for just a brief moment as they were introduced and she ran the tip of her little pink tongue across her lips and gave Lizbeth a knowing glance.
 
Lizbeth smiled at Sarah. "My lady, what a lovely gown." She offered. She looked over at her father and smiled at his discomfort. He knew the truth. He knew what he had sold his daughter into and that several of the men in the room were members of the Abbey.

Another of the friars asked Lizbeth to dance and she of course accepted. But her eyes were only on Baston. She watched him meander through the room, getting drinks for lovely women and laughing and talking with the men.

Lizbeth wished she was alone with him. She wished she could strip off the layers of her clothes. She wanted to be free of all of the contraints between her and pleasure.
 
"My, what a lovely gown."


Lady Sarah Chatterley cooed as she smiled into Lizbeth’s eyes , the tip of her fan resting, for a fleeting moment in the deep cut bodice against the soft firm curve of the girl’s heaving breast. A flick of the wrist, the SNAP of its opening seductively grazing the girl’s taunt nipple through the thin material of her gown. Sarah smiled at Lizbeth’s sensual little gasp as she caught Mr. Dalton’s eye reveling in the fact that he knew several of the most prominent of the men in the room were members of the Abbey and had enjoyed Lizbeth’s charms and had done the most lewd and obscene things to her and with her so he could maintain the façade of respectability, the price, his daughter’s innocence and virtue.

Lady Chatterley also so the dark longing in her little protégé’s eyes as she searched for Lord Baston. Sarah smiled as she saw the smoldering desire in Lizbeth’s eyes. The desire to strip off the layers of her clothes……..to be free of all of the constraints between her and pleasure.

“Dose my little Bitch long to be fucked and used like the wanton little harlot she is?”

Lady Chatterley whispered to the blushing young Miss Dalton from behind her fan.

“If so then my sweet bitch follow me and I shall allow you to strip in a private room and pleasure me.”

Sarah snapped her fan closed caressed Lizbeth’s cheek with it and sauntered a way with a single backward glance over her shoulder and giving the young beauty a Come hither look
 
Lizbeth followed Sarah. But she didn't want to be used by Sarah. She had seen Sarah using and being used and the redhead seemed to come alive when she was being used. Lizbeth had never topped another but she was sure that she had it in her. She followed Sarah into the room and before Sarah could speak, Lizbeth had locked the door.

She turned and grabbed Sarah by her hair.
"You are my sexy little beast today, my lady. I know that is what makes you throb the most." Lizbeth whispered.

Lizbeth kissed her deeply, then kissed her way to her throat. She bit her lightly and then bit her again on the collarbone. "Please me." Lizbeth whispered.
 
"You are my sexy little beast today, my lady. I know that is what makes you throb the most."


Sarah gasped at the shy little Miss Dalton’s words. Yet her kiss deep and primal sparked a fire in the little red head. She arched her supple young body to Lizbeth’s passionate kisses and seductive little love bites.

"Please me."

Lizbeth’s fingers were curled in Lady Sarah Chatterley luxurious copper mane.

“My our little Dove has become a wanton Vixen”

Sarah cooed as she slowly slipped Lizbeth’s bodice lower spilling her firm young breasts from her scandalous bodice. Her head bent to the girl’s breasts her little peeked tongue sensually circled the young Miss Daltons dusky pink areola, loving little kisses traced the firm contours of the girl’s breast and then the little redhead smiled up into Lizbeth’s eyes.

“And I know what my sweet Mistress love most!”

Lady Sarah Chatterley inhaled the girl’s pale pink nipple suckling it to a throbbing taunt peek then she bit down mixing pain and pleasure for Miss Lizbeth Dalton to savor.
 
Lizbeth gave Sarah a little shove.

"Strip. Strip as naked as you were the night you were initiated at the Abbey." Lizbeth smiled thinking about that night, thinking about how innocent and afraid she had been.

"Tell me Sarah, were you forced into the Abbey. Or did you come willingly? Were you invited by a lover?" Lizbeth watched as Sarah undressed. "I want you to confess to me. I want you to rub out a climax while you tell me about your induction."

Lizbeth stared Sarah down.
 
"Strip. Strip as naked as you were the night you were initiated at the Abbey."

Lizbeth smiled thinking about that night, thinking about how innocent and afraid she had been
and Sarah could see those dark sensual memories smoldering in the depth of the little tigresses eyes the girl’s firm proud breast bared and her nipples taunt little rose buds where Sarah Chatterley inhaled the girl’s pale pink nipple suckling it to a throbbing taunt peek then she bit down mixing pain and pleasure for Miss Lizbeth Dalton to savor. A smile played at the corners of the little redhead’s pouty little mouth as Her little tigress demanded.

"Tell me Sarah, were you forced into the Abbey. Or did you come willingly? Were you invited by a lover?"

Lady Sarah Chatterley began a slow sensual strip tease one to enflame little Miss Dalton’s darkest passions her petty coats brushing against Lizbeth’s taunt aching nipples as she disrobed before her protégé tempting her with her own pale perfect body even as Miss Dalton demanded

"I want you to confess to me. I want you to rub out a climax while you tell me about your induction."

Even as Sarah stood naked before the little tigress she smiled a most alluring smile.

“Wouldn’t my lady rather that I strip her naked and rolled her little clit under my finger as I please her and tell her of my initiation. Sarah Chatterley did not wait for an answered but in a most subservient manner began to strip young Miss Dalton as she huskily whispered.

“I came to Thélème Abbey of my own free will My Lady…”

Sarah’s teeth grazed Lizbeth’s earlobe as she loosen the ties of the girl’s stays allowing her dress to slide down her gorgeous young body to reveal that Miss Dalton wore nothing beneath her gown.

“…………….. I had no Lover My Lady…”

Her finger rolled Lizbeth’s clit under its pad.

“……..I was a virgin but bored with the chaste life..”

Slowly Sarah began to fuck Lizbeth with her delicate fingers as she told he story of how she had sought out the Hellfire club and Thélème Abbey .
 
"Sarah.... oh... Sarah... " Lizbeth murmured. "I need to go back. I need Baston. I need to be his... why can't i enjoy this freedom."

Lizbeth was shaking with need. She trembled against Sarah's touch. Sarah urged her back onto a settee and spread Lizbeth's legs wide. She pushed her thighs as far a part as they would go. And soon, Sarah was stretching her, pushing into her, until her whole little fist was pumping into her.

Lizbeth was biting her lip to keep quiet but she was grinding herself down on Sarah's hand. Sarah had taken back the reins but she had to smile at young Lizbeth's attempt at topping her.

Sarah used her other hand to clamp over Sarah's throat. She pressed lightly, not enough to choke her, but enough to let Lizbeth know who was in control.
 
"Sarah.... oh... Sarah... " Lizbeth murmured.

"I need to go back. I need Baston. I need to be his... why can't i enjoy this freedom."


“Ah such a needy little lamb Lady.”

Lady Sarah Chatterley cooed as she eased the sweet little naked beauty back onto the settee. Sarah had become bored with her little farce of playing the submissive and slowly with her practiced fingers once more began her sexual domination of the sweet innocent Miss Dalton. She spread Lizbeth's legs wide. She pushed her thighs as far a part as they would go. And soon, Sarah was stretching her, pushing into her, until her whole little fist was pumping into her.

Her other hand closed around Lizbeth’s throat like the jaws of the hound letting the young beauty know who was truly the Alpha bitch.

“ Now Pet please me and I shall speak to Baston and see if he will dane to see you.”

Lady Sarah Chatterley smiled down into her little pets eyes.


“But only if you out do yourself in pleasing me girl I want to see you suffer and here you beg girl.”
 
Lizbeth whimpered as Sarah's hands closed like talon on her throat.

"Mistress, I want to please you... I will be a good girl." She whispered softly. Lizbeth wet her lips and tipped her head back offering Sarah more of her throat. She spread her thighs even more and arched her back.

Lizbeth hips bucked and she could feel her clit standing straight up, begging for attention. Lizbeth found herself mewling piteously, begging for release and relief.

"Mistress, please..... I need to climax, please, my heart is thundering..."

Lizbeth could hear voices outside of the door. SHe did her best to be quiet, but it was too hard. Pleasure kept bubbling inside of her, but never quite cresting over.
 
"Mistress, I want to please you... I will be a good girl."


Lady Sarah Chatterley Smiled down into her little pet’s eyes. How quickly she embraced the lessons she had learned at Thélème Abbey as the little beauty so sweetly mewed her throbbing little clit standing straight up, begging for attention as the young girl’s hips bucked as she tried so desperately for the release she craved but her Mistress denied her.

"Mistress, please..... I need to climax, please, my heart is thundering..."

Sweet Miss Dalton piteously, begged for release and relief. There was the murmur of voices just outside the door. Only a thin little lock stood between Lizbeth and discovery. A turn of a key in the lock, the twist of a door knob was all that stood between and the revelation of what she had become.

“But my dear I said I would speak to lord Baston if you pleased me….”

Sarah’s voice was as sweet as honey yet her eyes were as hard an unyielding as iron.

“… but it is eye who have been pleasing you!”


Lady Sarah Chatterley let her fist slip from the girls need little cunt leave her empty and with a burring need to cum .

“On you knees girl and please me…. Fuck your self with a burning candle as you feast on my pussy.”
 
Lizbeth eagerly got on her knees and she spread Sarah's thighs. She kissed her pale skin, leading to her sex. Nuzzling her smooth bare stomach. As Lizbeth licked and kissed and sucked Sarah's stomach. She wondered about her own, she wondered if she had been bred in her times in the stables, in her times used over and over again by the men of Theleme Abbey.

She shook the thought from her head and then kissed Sarah's sex like her lovers mouth. She slowly kissed her, her tongue sliding into the pink folds. Her tongue pressing, dividing, opening Sarah.

Her tongue found her clit and Lizbeth swirled around and around it. Teasing and tormenting her mistress. Lizbeth wondered what she must look like on her knees, naked, her hair pinned up with her mother's jeweled pins. She wished Baston could see her ass and sex on display, could see her breasts jiggling.
 
Sweet little Miss Lizbeth Dalton. kissed Lady Sarah Chatterley pale skin, leading to her sex the naked little beauty nuzzled her smooth bare stomach. Her Mistress linger entwined in her little pets silken tresses as Lizbeth licked and kissed and sucked. A deep sensual gasp escaped Sarah’s “O”ed lips when Lizbeth kissed Sarah's sex like her lovers mouth. She slowly kissed her, her tongue sliding into the pink folds. Her tongue pressing, dividing, opening Sarah. Her tongue found her clit and Lizbeth swirled around and around it. Teasing and tormenting her mistress.

“I find you quite pleasing Pet

Lady Chatterley’s voice a dark sensual whisper as she toyed with the jeweled pin that held Lizbeth’s silken mane up her faced bared so her face was not hid from her mistress. Lady Sarah Chatterley ‘s body arched up her needy little pussy pressed to her little “pet’s loving mouth Yes my little bitch oh yes Sarah gasped her dewy orgasm gush to bath Lizbeth’s angelic face.

At lash Lady Sarah Chatterley lay back in her chair her naked pet curled at her feet the girl’s head resting on Sarah’s thigh.

“Tell me “Pet” did you like your time in the stables the feel of Noah’s dark ebony hand on you the way he made you “his” little filly.”

Sarah cooed.

“ Do you still dream of him breeding you , long for his ebony fold in your belly.”


Lady Chatterley dark sensual voice spinning a web of words to ensnare her sweet beauty.

“ Tell me as you please yourself with your fingers my “pet” “.
 
Lizbeth rubbed her own sex as she nuzzled against Sarah.

"Milady, I think of the stables... but the only hands, the only cock that I dream of are Baston's, I ache for him, Milady. I dream of him breeding me, of him using me hard, of him using me deep."

Lizbeth closed her eyes and gasped and moaned against Sarah's thigh.

As Lizbeth rubbed her own clit, she craved pain. She pinched her own clit betweeen her fingernails and pinched hard. She cried out softly and Sarah's hand clamped over her mouth. Being forced to be silent made Lizbeth even more aroused.

Lizbeth's body bucked against Sarah. She moaned piteously against Sarah's hand.
 
Lizbeth lay there her delicate fingers seeking the little pearl of her passion as she remembered her days in the Abbey’s stables.

"Milady, I think of the stables... but the only hands, the only cock that I dream of are Baston's, I ache for him, Milady. I dream of him breeding me, of him using me hard, of him using me deep."

Lizbeth eyes fluttered close as she made her little confession to her Mistress. A sensual gasp escaped her sweetly “O”ed lips that slowly became a dark sensual moan against Sarah's thigh. Lady Sarah Chatterley smiled wickedly as she watched the once proud chaste little beauty rubbed her own clit, the flare of dark desire that flared in the girl‘s smoldering eyes as she pinched her own clit between her fingernails and pinched hard savoring the white hot pain she craved. Lady Chatterley Hand covered her little pet’s mouth, her other hand closed around the girl’s slender throat as Lizbeth’s supple young body bucked against Sarah she moaned piteously against her Mistress’s hand and her arousal filled the little room with a rich dark musky fragrance. It was then that Lady Chatterley whispered to Lizbeth.

“ Lord Baston and his son Charles will bring his sweet bride to Thélème Abbey where her virginity and innocence will be offered up, where she will be breed to ensure and heir for the house of Baston. You could be the one to train her in the dark passions that her husband so loves me dear.”

Lady Chatterley cooed in her little pet’s ear a sweet temptation to rise a little in status at the Abbey and to please Lord Baston as well.
 
Lizbeth gasped sharply. She knew what Sarah offered, she could envision it. But the pang of jealousy was too sharp. Lizbeth shook her head. Her hair coming unpinned, falling around her face.

"No... she isn't right for the Abbey. She is prim and pristine. " Lizbeth pulled away from Sarah. "I don't want another rival... I want to be possessed. I want him to ache for me the way I ache for him alone."

Lizbeth staggered away from Sarah and slithered back into her dress. She pulled the pins from her hair and then fastened her dress closed. "That little bitch should stay home and run his London house and take callers, she isn't made to please the men of Theleme."

Lizbeth opened the door and rushed down the hallway and to the backstairs. SHe took the stairs as quickly as she could. She had to get away. She had to think, she had to breathe.
 
"No... she isn't right for the Abbey. She is prim and pristine. " Lizbeth pulled away from Sarah. "I don't want another rival... I want to be possessed. I want him to ache for me the way I ache for him alone."

Sarah smiled to herself as her little pet broke into tears and a tirade fleeing down the back stairs of Lord Baston’s mansion. The girl’s accusation of Charles’s fiancé ” She is prim and pristine…”

“ Just as you were my sweet Miss Dalton. “

The haunting accusation followed Lizbeth in her flight. She had come back to London to the society that once formed the cornerstone of her life. The endless round of ball’s and parties That had defined her so very proper and virginal life as she had waited for a suitable match, and that had been Charles Baston Sir John’s son. That was then before Thélème Abbey, before Dashwood, Sarah, and before Friar John, Lord Baston himself . Before Miss Lizbeth Dalton had learned the joys of carnal pleasure, before she learned of the dark seductive power of the Darker Passions .

As she stood on the fog shroud Streets of London’s Mayfair district the gayety of Lord Baston’s Ball surrounding Lizbeth, taunting her, even as the swirling mist caressed her supple young body much as Lord Baston had that last night at Thélème Abbey. In three days time Lizbeth was supposed to return to the Abbey and the life that she now led there. She stood in the swirling mist and darkness in neither the world she had known or to the world she now belonged to. The Hollow click, click, click of a cane on the cobbles and the soft foot fall she knew so well. Out of the Mist a shadow began to take shape and form, the form of her Lord and Master Lord Baston.
 
Lizbeth did her best to dry her tears. She felt like a fool. She knew she was a pleasure slave of the Abbey. She was no one's wife, no one's mistress, she wasn't anyone's love. She was one of many and that thought cut her more deeply than anyone else.

She looked over at Baston. She ached to feel his hands tender on her face, but hard when he shoved her thighs apart. She longed to feel the kiss of leather on her skin and the bite of steel. But she had a new sort of hollow place inside of her.

She wanted him to want her. She knew he would fuck many women. He was a Friar of Theleme. She did not want to possess him, that would throw the balance of power off completely. But she did want to be his best girl, the woman he possessed. If her body was to be used by others, she wanted it to be at his whim. She was terrified of him falling for Charles's new love, his delicate little china doll, with her golden hair and her delft blue eyes.

She wondered what she must look like. Her hair was whipping against her face in the cold breeze and her face was stained with tears. Her breasts were spilling out of her gown, they seemed fuller and more sensitive than ever. She knew she must look like a doxy in her dissaray.

"My lord, I don't mean to fail... but I don't want to help you seduce her." She spat out the word her like it was a curse. "She will be used by the Abbey, but she is a wife, she will live in both worlds. Sara lives in both worlds. But I only have the abbey now. I will never have a husband, there will be no more balls for me. My father sold me to you.... and I find myself... I am confused. I want to be at the Abbey. I want to please you. I want to serve you. You are the voice I feared the most,, the hands I feared the most, but it is you that I crave, my master. I want to be your slave. I want to never see London again unless I am in your bed. I want to sleep at the foot of your bed when you train other women. I want to clean their taste from you." Lizbeth had to stop talking. Her sobs shook her. Her admission made her feel shame and she felt as vulnerable as she did her first night in the Abbey.
 
Such a lost little waif Barton thought as Lizbeth stood there in the shifting mist. Her eyes shimmered with the tears that stained her cheeks. Her hair in wild disarray as she sobbed.

"My lord, I don't mean to fail... but I don't want to help you seduce her. She will be used by the Abbey, but she is a wife, she will live in both worlds. Sara lives in both worlds. But I only have the abbey now…………..”

Barton watched as the tendrils of mist caressed Lizbeth supple young body how they seemed to claw at her. And it stirred his lust for this delicate forlorn creature.

……..I want to please you. I want to serve you. You are the voice I feared the most,, the hands I feared the most, but it is you that I crave, my master. I want to be your slave. I want to never see London again unless I am in your bed. I want to sleep at the foot of your bed when you train other women. I want to clean their taste from you."

Instinctively the back of his hand caressed the girl’s cheek his thumb stoked her chin just before his fingers entangled in her silken mane and Barton claimed her mouth in a savage kiss. He let the kiss linger deepen even as a hand began to gather Lizbeth’s skirts. Soon the cool moist air of the night caressed her legs as the helm inched ever higher.


“ My sweet pet I have chosen you to train Charles’ little china doll. If you would be my slave and please me then you will train her to savor pain and you will do it because I desire you to.”

His mouth crushed to Lizbeth’s once more.

“I wish to fuck you my dear hear and know prepare yourself.”

There was no doubt it was a command and he intended to take her here and know on the fog shrouded streets of London.
 
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Lizbeth reached back and unfastened her dress. She whimpered as her dress slipped from her skin.

"Own me," She whispered. "Own me, my master." She shivered as she waited.

The heavy satin fell away from her skin, the cool night mists caressing her skin. Her breasts heaved, her nipples hardening instantly in the cool night air.

She stepped out of the crumpled dress and stood before him just as if she was in the Abbey.

There were hundreds of London's finest just inside, but she didn't care. She didn't care if her mother and father even walked outside.

All she cared about, all she needed was to be taken in hand. She tipped her head back offering her throat to him.

"Own me." She whispered, tears dripping down her pretty face.
 
"Own me," She whispered. "Own me, my master."

What little pride Miss Lizbeth Dalton had slipped away with her Satin gown as she stood naked as the day she was born before Baston.

"Own me."

Her voice trembled with need even as Lizbeth turned her eyes imploringly to her Master. Again she whispered her desperate plea, tears dripping down her pretty face, tendrils of mist like living fingers caressing her naked body even as her head lulled back offering her slender neck to Baston.

He sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of the girls neck marking her as his own. His fingers slipped within her tight little cunt. He tormented his little pet drove her to the edge then when she was panting like a bitch in heat her turned her kicked her feet apart and pressed his cock to her tight little ass.

“I shall own you my pet for you please me and you shall train Charles little china Doll to pain and pleasure and it will be you who takes her virginity.”

Even as he spoke Baston raped more than fucked his little beauty’s ass even as he slipped more of his fingers and hand into her needy cunt.

“Tomorrow you will take the virgin to the Abbey. By nightfall she will no longer be a Virgin Pet.”
 
Lizbeth moaned and whimpered as her master claimed her in the street. His mouth closed on the knape of her neck and she felt again as if she were at home.

"My master.... my master..." She whispered.

Lizbeth allowed herself to let go of all of her fears and doubts. All she was was sensation. All she was was submission.

She groaned as he rammed his cock deep into her ass. Baston's teeth scraping her neck.

"Please my master, promise, promise that I will always be yours. That you own me."

She was quavering beneath his touch.
 
She begged Baston for some reassurance that she would be his even as he took her in the street in the gutters of London. It did not seem to matter to the broken heart young beauty that if they were discovered here rutting in the streets both would be ruined.

“ You shall have all that you have begged for once you have trained the little golden China doll .”


His promises was made and punctuated by savage thrusts into Lizbeth’s tight little pussy

“Take her virginity and then give her to Dashwood to toy with then I shall let you be mine.”

Baston had used her brought her into slavery had used her and humiliated her but he had never lied to Lizbeth. He was a gentleman his word was his bond. Yet if she displeased him well Lizbeth knew what that would bring. As these thoughts tormented her Baston grunted filled her hot clutching pussy with his cum and then pulled from her.

“:Get dressed I shall see you at the Abby in Two days Miss You know my desires…….don’t fail me.”
 
Lizbeth fastened her dress and smoothed her hair. She waited outside for a few moments and took slow deep breaths. She did her best to calm herself but her heart was pounding.

She went inside and found her mother looking for her.Her mother didn't seem to notice anything was amiss. Her mother gave her her cloak and reminded her that it was time to go home. She needed to get her rest before she went back to her job at the abbey.

Lizbeth only smiled. She knew she had much to do when she returned to the Abbey.

"Oh Lizbeth, Charles and his bride will take you to the Abbey in their coach. It seems Charles has business in the country. So we won't have to find a ride for you. Isn't that nice of him? It is such a shame that you couldn't manage to keep him."

Lizbeth had no desire to correct her mother. She knew that she was not meant to be a bride.
 
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