Perhaps, this Saintsbury has appeared for a reason. I have hesitated to beget myself an heir, because I have found no man who has attracted me sufficiently. My heir needs to be sired by a man who is something more than common. Who, at least, I am uncommonly drawn to. No such man has ever materialized.
Until now.
I will seduce the vicar, I resolve quietly. I will get with child. AndthenI will discard him. It is the perfect punishment for the canting pieties he delivered to my face today. And for how he made me want his shaking hands and stammering mouth. Best of all, I will then have the one thing I lack and that I have long wanted.
“Yes, I am sure he will suffice,” I demure, beginning to plan. “Not that I will ever see him preach myself. I have no use for church.”
Mr. Perry blanches at that. Good. Perhaps my heretical words will teach him that he shouldn’t try and trade pleasantries with me.
“May we go over the numbers for the stock yard now, Mr. Perry?” I raise a brow to make clear I do not appreciate his social commentary.
What an amusement in all this boredom. I will enjoy Saintsbury once I have him panting beneath me. He will be completely at my mercy. And then a child. It is a beautiful solution.
The man nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
And just like that I am back in control and the world is as I like it.
Chapter 4
Alfred
Dear Henry,
I hope my letter finds you well—I know that, since May, you have been exhausting yourself every day in Parliament. You have done so much to get the Company out of India and I know you fear the Crown will be no better. But I hope now you have a little time to think of yourself and make sure you’re not run ragged.
Your work is so important that I feel foolish writing to you of trifles. And yet I know that is exactly what you entreated me to do. So I will do so in the hopes it will amuse you. And amuse you, I fear, it shall.
I met my new patroness today, the infamous Miss de Lacey.
Will you judge me harshly if I tell you that she is very beautiful?
I have never met a woman so comely. It is deuced inconvenient, particularly since she appears to abhor me for being her father’s choice. Even if she didn’t, of course, such admiration means nothing.
Yours,
Alfred.
It is Wednesday.
Four days after my tea with Miss de Lacey.
And while I have managed to avoid self-abusing again, the visions ofherhave not abated.
Every morning, I wake up with my heart and cock pounding.
Sleep is merely an invitation to imagine her, it seems. The dreams shock and shame me—but also bring me to untold hardness.
Unfortunately, I never spend in my sleep as I know other men do. It would have saved me an exceptional amount of bother if I did. Even the rectors at Charterhouse used to say a man could not be blamed for what visited him in his sleep.
But I have never been blessed with that type of release.
And such a state of affairs has never been more unfortunate than now.
At odd, terrible moments I find myself cursed with a cockstand. Miss de Lacey crosses my mind and I am turning to the wall or pulling a book over my lap.
Yesterday, I happened upon Mr. Perry on the road to town. I know he visits Miss de Lacey at Trescott Abbey nearly every day, and he was clearly headed there when our paths converged. Perry is a stout, middle-aged man, but still, the frequency of his visits and Miss de Lacey’s reputation made me wonder if she beds him. But now having met her, I tell myself it is impossible. I cannot believe it.
Nevertheless, seeing the man broughtherinto my mind. I had to feign a brokenbootlace.
