“I can’t be the father,” he ground out.
The three masks turned to look at him, abandoning all distractions.
“I can’t keep my cock hard with her.”
“What have you tried? I heard—”
“It’s no use,” said Edmund, collapsing into a chair where over a century of men had sat their bare arses. He really hoped the place had a staff aware of specialized cleaning procedures.
“Surely not—”
“I married her fourteen years ago, immediately after my brother seduced her. She was but sixteen. A pathetic scrap of a girl. I couldn’t do that to her, not after what Crispin did.”
The other Bucks were uncharacteristically silent as they considered Edmund’s story.
“So she asked to reach maturity prior to consummation of the marriage? And you respectfully allowed her to reach adulthood before initiating her into your bed?” asked the High Buckthorn.
Edmund winced. “Not exactly.”
The Bucks advanced on him, clearly getting the wrong idea. Edmund held out his hands. “Nothing like that, oh god, quite the opposite! I made a terrible error, yes, but it was the error of leaving her in the country.”
The other Bucks paused, exchanging glances.
“I haven’t touched her.”
“Ever?” asked Stagshade.
“We have not consummated our marriage. Given that my cock can’t stay hard around my wife, I doubt I can perform the task. The guilt is too profound. I need you gentlemen to step in for me and give her the baby she deserves.”
Even as Edmund confessed his cock’s struggles, he felt a flicker of doubt that they were unresolvable. His discovery of who was in his wife’s bed certainly caused him to wilt, but he had been hard before. And lately…he’d been feeling an interest in her. Growing, building feelings. But the die was cast, and he needed to deliver on his promises.
“We’ll make sure she remains safe in the Forest,” said the High Buckthorn.
“Thank you.”
“And we’ll ensure you both get what you need.”
Recriminations and fear consumed Edmund’s mind, making him unaware of the many unintended ways he could get what he needed.
Chapter 6
As the daughter ofa draper, Ann noticed the floor in the Forest first. Yards of luxurious green fabric covered the ground, the crushed velvet further crushing under her bare feet most pleasurably.
“Welcome, madam,” said a tall, entirely nude man who advanced on her wearing a stag mask with elaborate antlers.
Ann wore nothing but a simple half-mask and she was new to London, so this man had no way of knowing that she was no mere madam, but was, in fact, the Marchioness of Montfort. Unless Edmund told his secret society brothers that he brought his own wife to their inner sanctum? But no husband would admit to such a thing, surely? Admit to being so repulsed by his wife that his cock couldn’t stand at attention long enough to get her with child?
“That harp…” the Buck said under his breath while looking towards a tapestry, behind which spectral music poured forth. “It haunts my dreams.”
“This place seems designed for dreams,” she said, gesturing to the naked trees anchored to the floor beneath that expanse of green fabric and reaching their spindly tops into the vaulted ceiling.Or nightmares, she thought to herself as they approached a place with one large chair. A throne.
From elsewhere in the ballroom, three stag-masked men walked toward them, their cocks heavy and in various states of hardness. Ann spotted Edmund immediately. His broad chest and flaccid cock gave him away. Once she saw him, Ann didn’t bother to study the two men with him. She didn’t need to look closer to know he was the most commanding of them all.
“The Rutlord will take the throne,” said the Buck who had greeted her.
Edmund stepped forward. Of course he had an elevated title.Rutlord indeed, she thought.
When he settled into the carved chair, Ann’s escort took her by the hand. “Such soft paws, my little squirrel. Are you this soft all over?” he asked, trailing a thumb over her knuckles.
