“This is the part many do not discuss.The aftermath and clean up.Another lesson,” he said dispassionately.
She paused in adjusting her bodice, her expression uncertain.“Is all well, Benedict?”
“Of course.”Why would it not be?He had just demonstrated what she wished to do with another man.
Clearly unconvinced, she said, “Are you certain?”
“I said so, didn’t I?”
She blanched.“Yes, of course.”She smoothed her gown.
Christ, and now he was biting at her.For no reason.He had always known she wanted teaching only.He had to leave before he said something he did not intend, something he would regret.“I must bid you good day.I have an appointment.”
“Of course.I shall not keep you.”She stood and he did too.Offering her a bow and murmuring he would attend her again soon, he strode from the room.He did not look back, and he resisted the urge to rub rubbed at his chest where the ache had not subsided.
Chapter Ten
Theillustrationshowedawoman with her skirts around her hips and her legs spread.Head thrown back, intense pleasure drew her features, her fingers speared through the hair of the gentlemen perched before her while he held her thighs wide, his fingers digging into the soft flesh and his face buried between them.
Eleanor shut the book with a thump.Heart racing, she glanced around Lady Burfield’s vast drawing room.Only a few members lingered, the rest having made their way to the refreshments laid out in the adjoining room.None looked her way, and none had noticed she held a book the salon was not reading.And none had noticed how her breath had quickened or the flush on her cheeks.
So assured, she cautiously opened the book once more.The women’s heavy-lidded eyes were filled with pleasure, her lush bottom lip caught between her white teeth.Her gaze slid to the gentleman between her legs.She and Benedict had not done this, but what they had done yesterday… She knew exactly the ecstasy the lady in the picture embodied.
Remembered pleasure shuddered through her.She’d had no notion her body could feel such, or that she could give another the same.The passion that had exploded between them had shocked her, as had his boldness and his direction, his intensity and his dominance.Her friend—herbestfriend—had been dominant and commanding and she had loved it.If Benedict could make her experience such bliss, then what could the man she actually wanted do?
Her shoulders hunched.Somehow, she could not picture doingthatwith Lord Malvern or enjoying it near as much as she had with Benedict.She could not imagine the earl’s blue eyes would burn as Benedict’s had, or his voice hoarse with need praising her and telling her how lovely she was.When she’d concocted her plan, she’d read of the intimacy between women and men, and seen the engravings and prints, but she’d had no practical knowledge, had no notion of how it would feel to have another person touch her and caress her and bring her to release.In truth, she could not imagine trusting anyone enough to let them…none but Benedict.
The only thing that had marred the experience had been Benedict’s leave-taking.He had practically fled the room, his manner harsh.That part she had tried not to think on overmuch, and even now she did her best to ignore the ache in her chest at its memory.
To distract herself, she flicked through the open book’s pages.Sophiawas one of the books the salon had studied, the erotic tale also containing illustrations peppered through its pages depicting the titular character in her numerous erotic adventures.Mr C.Doyle-Hampton’s third book had always been her favourite, and his depiction of Sophia’s journey had inspired her own.She would not be quite as bold as Sophia, taking numerous lovers—some even at the same time—before she ended up with her ragged lord, but more and more she craved the touch of another.
She paused on another illustration, this one of Sophia straddling her lord, his naked body bowed under her clothed form as she rode him.
“Would you take one of these?”
Cheeks burning, she slammed the book shut.Victoria had returned from the refreshment table, with a plate filled with sandwiches in one hand and two glasses of lemonade in the other.
Victoria handed her a glass.“I sought refreshments for both of us but as you would not make a decision on what you preferred, I have chosen for you and if you do not like it, it is no fault of mine.”She glanced curiously at the book in Eleanor’s lap.“Is thatSophia?Are we not readingAt The Earl’s Pleasurethis month?”
Eleanor shuffled the book under the fold of her skirt.“Were you not to tell me something before you went for refreshments?”
The slight smile on Victoria’s face disappeared.Lowering herself into the chaise beside Eleanor, she arranged her plate deliberately in her lap.“I have had a letter from Lord Dunseith.He requests my presence.”
“This request is not welcome?”Victoria had not spoken often of her marriage, but neither had she disparaged it.Eleanor’s impression had always been Victoria and her husband were distant but friendly, though her friend resided most of the year in London while Lord Dunseith remained in Scotland.
Victoria kept her gaze downcast.“In truth, we are as strangers.I do not see how my presence would bring him any comfort.However, perhaps it is I should not refuse my husband, especially as his health is not what it ought to be.I should not refuse, should I?”
Eleanor did not know how to answer.Victoria rarely displayed emotion, and never vulnerability.“I—Perhaps?”
Victoria’s gaze flew to hers.Eleanor sucked in her breath at the look in her eyes.“Victoria, is it distressful for you to return to Scotland?”
Eyes troubled, Victoria worked her jaw.
Alarm befell Eleanor.What was so disquieting Victoria could not speak of it?Before she could ask, the other ladies filed back into the room, chattering and laughing.A veil fell over Victoria’s expression and, to those who entered, there was no evidence she had ever been anything but serene.
Brow creased, Eleanor regarded Victoria worriedly but her friend ignored her, a half-smile on her lips as she watched the other ladies take their seats.
The last to sweep into the room was Lady Burfield.A small woman, at least half a head shorter than Eleanor, yet she commanded a room, her manner both intimidating and compelling, her chestnut brown hair pinned in neat curls and her fashionable dress impeccably crafted.Ladies,” she said in a crisp, clear voice.“I trust the refreshments were to your satisfaction.”:
