Murmurs rose from the crowd as the silhouette of Robert presented a truncheon even larger than the dildo to Lady Analise’s penitent lips. He pushed, and she appeared to swallow it in the manner of a sword-eater. Unbidden, Charlie’s throat flexed with a remembered sensation: of Sebastian’s cock entering her in the same way. He had introduced her to fellatio and was the only man she’d ever done it with. She’d loved it, loved the taste and feel of him in her mouth, loved the heady power of unraveling his control. In those moments, she had owned him as completely as he owned her...
Her forehead damp, she swatted away the memory. Dash it all, the past was proving a potent distraction this eve. She sent a covert glance in Quinton’s direction, making sure she hadn’t lost him…and was relieved when she saw the grey-haired fellow with a black mask standing close to him.
Good old Devlin. I should have known he would come through.
Although Devlin didn’t look at her, his smug grin conveyed that he’d noted her presence. He appeared absorbed by Miss Loveday’s reading, the prose growing more purple by the moment.
“After making rough use of his fair lady’s mouth, Robert withdrew his machine, its tip a weeping tribute of his love.
“‘Will you untie me now?’ Lady Analise asked shyly.
“‘Not until you have learned the fullness of your lesson,’ he said, a twinkle in his eye.
“She lost sight of him as he strode behind her, but a moment later, she cried out as his enormous rod skewered her insides with pleasure. He rode her, sending her into paroxysms of delight. Soon her lord joined her, flooding her with his forgiveness. Aroused by the spectacle of conjugal bliss, the nuns and priests formed a naked ring around the lovers and gave in to frenzied abandon of their own. That evening, no desire was left wanting and no orifice unfilled.
“From then on, whenever Lady Analise was tempted to mistrust her husband, he brought out the punishment bench to remind her of his commitment, and they lived happily ever after.”
“This concludes the reading ofThe Fishwife’s TaleorA Lady in Need of Disciplineby Sir Piers Bottom,”Scheherazade said. “It may be purchased at the fine booksellers of Holywell Street. Until the next time, I bid you adieu. May all your fantasies be fulfilled tonight.”
The light winked out behind the screen as the audience exploded into applause. Amidst the foot stomping and whistling, Charlie saw Quinton duck out. She made eye contact with Devlin; he gave a subtle nod and followed his target. She followed hers, who hadn’t emerged from behind the screen. Wading through the buzzing crowd, Charlie reached the dais and saw a door behind it. Going through, she found a small antechamber on the other side. Costumes and wigs were piled upon a settee, along with a leather-bound volume of Sir Piers Bottom’s literary masterpiece. There were no doors other than the one Charlie had come through.
Where had Miss Loveday gone?
Examining the room’s perimeter, Charlie found the answer: a servant’s passage hidden behind a bookcase. She slipped into the corridor and discovered that there were hidden doors and peepholes into all the chambers on the floor. A quick survey of the public rooms revealed no sign of Xenia. She took a flight of stairs to the top floor, where the private rooms were situated.
Pressing her cheek against the wood, she peered into the first chamber.
The room had been transformed into a garden with potted greenery and plaster sculptures of the Roman gods. A half-dozen participants were cavorting. A fellow wearing the head of a satyr howled with delight as a naked nymph rubbed against his back whilst another sucked his rampant member. Another trio made use of a stone bench. A woman lay on her belly upon it, moaning as a fellow pushed his cock into her mouth, another plowing her from behind.
Seeing no sign of Quinton and Miss Loveday, Charlie moved on. The action seemed more frenzied and abandoned with each successive chamber, and the air in the corridor grew stuffy and humid. As Charlie continued around a bend, a door opened several feet ahead. She quickly retreated, peering around the corner. Her heart sped up when she saw Miss Loveday and Quinton exit the room. Had she caught them in the act at last? Trepidation and anticipation filled her as she caught their whispered words.
“We have to go to Hastings,” Miss Loveday said.
“This is dangerous business.” Quinton’s tone was dour. “If my wife finds out?—”
“He is depending on us,” she insisted.
He? Who are they talking about? What is going on in Hastings?
Miss Loveday took Quinton’s arm, urging him along. They disappeared into another room, and the instant the door shut behind them, Charlie followed. She was halfway to her destination when she heard the click of a door opening to her right. An arm reached through and yanked her inside. She was hauled against a large, hard form, a hand muffling her gasp of surprise.
Fifteen
“It’s me, Lottie. Screaming will endanger both our purposes. Nod if you understand.”
As Jack murmured the words against his wife’s ear, he had to keep himself in rigid check. Intellectually, he understood that she wasn’t his wife any longer…but holding her like this, for the first time in years, made rationality fly out the window. The truth was that he’d never stopped thinking of Lottie as his and probably never would. The way their bodies fit, like two pieces of a puzzle, bolstered his delusion that they were somehow meant to be together.
She was tall for a woman, her head tucking against his chin, her lush backside pressing against his front. Beneath her perfume, he could smell her natural scent: lavender and clean linen, like a freshly made bed. Or perhaps he just thought of bed whenever he had her in his arms. He wanted to root for more of her fragrance. To nuzzle the pretty curve of her ear, suck the plump lobe. He wanted to strip her bare and feast on her like a man who’d been starved for years…twelve, to be exact.
Most of all, he wanted to fall on his knees and beg for forgiveness.
But he couldn’t. After the pain and destruction he’d caused, he couldn’t undo the only noble thing he’d ever done. The only right thing in his entire benighted life.
She struggled angrily, writhing against him in the most torturous of ways. Nonetheless, he kept a firm grip on her. When she stomped on his foot, he gritted his teeth; at least the pain distracted him from his raging erection.
“Your hen has already flown the coop,” he whispered against her ear. “And I have taken precautions to ensure that you will not catch her this eve. Accept that, and I will release you. Agreed?”
After a moment, she stopped struggling and nodded.
