“Most amusing, Caldwell.” Alexander folded his arms over his chest, turned toward the man, and tried to remain serious, even though he was anything but. “I’ll have you know that I rather fancy this whole idea of enrolling. I myself have yet to figure out where certain things go and what to do with them.”
Caldwell kept laughing, his voice echoing throughout the room.
Lady Charlotte eyed them, clearly not amused. “Lord Caldwell. I ask that you retire to the parlor. With Harold. I shall interview your presumptuous friend first and call upon you when we are done.”
“Yes. Good. Thank you.” Caldwell cleared his throat, put up a hand, and hurried out of the room.
When the room finally fell silent, Alexander crossed his arms over his chest. “Your needs, Lady Charlotte, have grown quite out of hand since we last met. Had I known I could have saved most of London’s male population from a fate worse than death, I would have gladly done my part.”
She set a hand on her hip. “How valiant of you to think of your brethren in their most desperate hour. As for my needs…” She lifted her eyes to his and arched a dark brow. “I highly doubt you could ever satisfy them.”
With that, she turned away and moved back toward her seat. Her loose hair gently bounced against the sway of her hips, brushing the bottom of her bum most provocatively.
Alexander dropped his arms to his sides and unconsciously licked his lips, tempted to take up her challenge. His eyes remained firmly affixed to the seductive sway of her hair, her hips, and her ass. An ass he’d had the pleasure of brushing his hand up against once upon a time. An ass he now wanted to grab and make use of.
“Enjoying your view?” She paused beside her chair, purposefully keeping her backside to him. “You may want to take your time, as it will be the last view of my backside you’ll ever get.”
His gaze snapped up to the back of her head, where it should have been all along. She had a bit more sexual prowess to her than he remembered. And here he thought he needed to be tamed. The woman was ruthless.
She gathered up the ends of her dark hair, exposing the length of her slender neck, slim back, and a small row of black buttons that started at the top of her scooped neckline and finished off where her full skirts began.
Alexander shifted his jaw and actually felt his fingers twitch with a burning need to unbutton her gown and toss it aside right there and then. She was trying to provoke him. And what was worse, she was rather good at it. No wonder Caldwell was enrolling. Hell, he wanted to enroll.
She softly smiled at him from over her shoulder, then sat, tucking herself behind the writing desk. Releasing her dark, long hair behind her shoulders, she took to arranging her skirts. “Close the door, Mr. H, so that we may begin your application process.”
Oh, Mr. H, was it? A complete lack of respect from the woman was not at all surprising. But to give him absolutely no name after all he had tried to do for her? Rather rude.
He stepped back toward the door and, using his boot, slammed it shut. “I prefer Alexander if we intend to dispense with my title and all formality.”
“I am not dispensing with anything. H is simply the manner in which you had signed all of your letters to me. I was beginning to wonder when you’d make an appearance. Although I believe the only thing I really owe you is that corset. Do you want it back? Is that it?”
“No, thank you,” he quipped. Striding toward her, he grabbed one of the leather chairs and pulled it as close to her desk as possible. He removed his gloves and set them on her stack of papers. For good measure.
He sat and leaned back, propping his elbows on the arms of the chair, then bridged his fingertips together. “I must admit. I’m rather impressed with your progressive manner of thinking. A school for men. Brilliant. Are you paying tribute to that late husband of yours by educating men on what not to do?”
She sighed, then lowered her eyes and shook her head. “Please. Chartwell has been buried from mind and sight for about a year. I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I apologize. I meant no ill will.”
She nodded and gently pushed his gloves toward the edge of the small writing desk. She was quiet for a few moments before finally asking, “Does your wife know about your intention to apply? Or are you merely looking to surprise her with newfound talents?”
Alexander laughed and shifted in his seat. “Not to disappoint, love, but there is no wife. I am simply here to ensure Caldwell isn’t swindled out of his estate. The man was born beneath an evil star and is notorious for getting into trouble.”
She eyed him for a brief moment, then dragged a blank piece of parchment closer to her. “Lord Caldwell is in good hands, I assure you.”
“Meaning your hands?” He waggled his brows, unable to resist. “If so, enroll me. At once.”
She brushed at the ends of her paper, looking rather bored with their conversation. “I regret to inform you that the application process is the only time I am ever involved with the students here at the school.”
“What a complete waste of your talent.” Though, in truth, he was relieved to hear that she was merely a glorified secretary for this whole ridiculous operation.
Her hand stilled against the parchment, and her dark eyes suddenly met his with sharp assessment. “Do try and remember that I will be dictating the pace of this conversation. Not you. Is that understood?”
Strong-willed. Intelligent. Tough. Yet still made of enough fine porcelain to make her fragile. Indeed, she was a fascinating combination of a woman, which made him wonder how she ever ended up marrying an unscrupulous fop like Chartwell. The two hardly pieced together. “I understand. Perfectly.”
“Thank you. Now. Are you genuinely interested in enrolling in the school or not?”
“Oh, I’m interested.” Interested in you, that is. Hell, he’d enroll himself over and over again if it meant having more of these amazing one-on-one conversations. For truth be told, he’d never been so entertained. He was also fascinated as to why a woman of her status and rank would dare to conduct such a scandalous and provocative state of affairs beneath the noses of everyone in London.
He waved his hand toward her, trying to demonstrate his eagerness. “Do. Go on.”
“Very well.” She plucked up the quill and gently tapped the end to remove the excess ink. “Usually, our students must pass a series of vigorous tests before being allowed to even apply. The tunnel you passed through is a secret only entrusted to those who are deemed worthy to become a student. For whatever reasons, Madame de Maitenon has given you permission to accompany Lord Caldwell in the final process that will ultimately give him admittance into the school. It is my duty to interview you for consideration.”
He smiled and tried not to chuckle at her serious, business-minded tone. “I certainly appreciate the opportunity.”
“Allow me to explain how this interview shall proceed. I will ask you a series of questions. In turn, you will provide nothing less than honesty. If any of the answers you provide prove to be false, Madame de Maitenon will not only remove your name from the list of applicants, but will fine you a total of £250.”
Alexander let out a low, exaggerated whistle. “Rather harsh.”
She shrugged. “In a world governed by men, a woman has to be.”
A rather warped way of thinking. What had Chartwell done to this poor woman anyway? Left her to think that she needed to manipulate men as a means of attaining what she wanted?
Then again, who was he to gripe?
He played that game all the time. His eyes traveled down the length of her exposed neck toward her sizable breasts, which were regrettably well hidden beneath a layer of black silk. Sadly, it had been some time since he’d had any plans that involved a lovely pair of breasts. And by God, he was beginning to realize just how much he truly had missed them.
Lesson Six
It is a known fact that men often cast aside all reason and common sense the moment the possibility
of great sex appears. Yet what they fail to realize is that with no reason and no common sense present, the outcome isn’t likely to be all that pleasant.
—The School of Gallantry
“Your birth name, please.”
Alexander snapped his attention from Lady Charlotte’s breasts back to the paper before her, knowing he ought to remain focused. There was no point in giving the woman the upper hand in a game that hadn’t even started.
Attempting to appear nonchalant, he scratched at his shaven chin. “Do you require an entire list of titles or the most prominent?”
She brought the paper even closer toward her, as if shielding herself. “The most prominent, please. You’ll submit the rest in written form upon admission.”
“Of course.” He leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees. “That would be Alexander William Baxendale, the third Earl of Hawksford. Do you need me to spell it for you?”
“No.” She gracefully scribed his full birth name and title across the top of her paper. Her eyes eventually met his again. “Let us begin. What is your age, Lord Hawksford?”
“One and thirty.”
She eyed him for a moment, then wrote the number beside his name. “And are you a virgin?”
His lips quivered in an effort to remain serious. Surely their previous encounter should have adequately answered that. “No. I confess that I am not.”
“No. Of course not.” She tilted her head to one side and placed a small x beneath his name. “Were you at the age of consent during your first sexual encounter?”
He shrugged. “I really wouldn’t know what the age of consent is these days. It’s been a while since my first sexual encounter.”
She sighed. “Twelve. The age would be twelve.”
“Twelve?” He pulled in his chin in disbelief and snapped up straight in his chair. “Hell, my youngest sister is twelve.” And Mary was in no damned state to be consenting to lecherous men. The very thought of a man having sex with his sweet though oddly morbid sister was enough to make him want to heave up his breakfast. “That seems far too bloody young. Are you certain of that?”
Her brows slightly rose. “I agree that it is far too young, but the law has been the same for quite some time, and as you know, Parliament will be Parliament. And lords, who continue to run the blasted thing, will be lords.”
Alexander blew out a pained breath. It appeared he had one more thing to add to his list of endless responsibilities. Perhaps he needed to padlock each and every one of his sisters’ doors and consider more reliable means of reinforcement. Like wrought-iron chastity belts.
“I am rather pleased you find the age to be abhorrent, for it truly is, but we are not here to solve the troubles of the world.” The tip of her quill still hovered over the parchment. “So. Were you at the age of consent during your first sexual encounter or not?”
“Yes, yes.” He waved a hand toward her paper, still feeling somewhat agitated about the whole matter. “I was one and twenty.”
“One and twenty?” She paused. “Truly?”
Alexander caught the small smile on her full lips as she lowered her gaze and placed another x beneath his name.
As if he would admit to anyone, especially to her, that once upon a time he was a man who believed in love and happily ever afters. A man who had foolishly waited for one and twenty years for the right woman to come along, the one to whom he could hand both his heart and his virginity. Imagine his disappointment in that.
In the end, he learned that existing solely for pleasure was the only true way to live. For there were never any disappointments and one could easily ensure their own happily ever after one pleasure at a time. That is until reality had smacked him firmly in the head when his father died and left him with five sisters. “And how old were you, My Lady?” he demanded, genuinely interested in her reply.
Lady Charlotte glared up at him as if she meant to impale the tip of her quill deep into the confines of his beating heart. “This is your application process. Not mine.” She dipped the quill into the inkwell once again and sighed. “Next question. Have you ever fantasized about dominating a woman?”
He slowly grinned at the thought of dominating her. “If it’s reciprocal domination in the name of pleasure, then I would have to say yes. And yes again.”
She placed another small x beneath his name. “Have you ever engaged in sex with more than one woman at a time?”
It appeared that his days of old were about to resurface. And how. He cleared his throat, wondering if she would applaud or condemn him for his next words. “Uh…yes. I have.”
She glanced up, clearly surprised, and leveled a serious gaze at him. “Exactly how many women were involved during that particular engagement?” she asked evenly.
“Uh…four.” He frowned, trying hard to remember if that blonde had been involved. She had to have been. She was the one who kept swearing at everyone out of pleasure. “No.” He rubbed his fingers along the edge of his shaven jaw. “Actually, I believe it was five.”
There was an arrested expression of disbelief on Lady Charlotte’s face. One he had never received from a woman before. In or out of bed.
And for some reason, for the first time in his life, Alexander, a born Hawksford, actually felt self-conscious. As if he needed to explain his former expeditions. “It was only once, really. And by no means did I go about initiating it. I went to this champagne party, you see. Although no one really followed any of the rules. It was brutally hot, I was stumbling about with my blindfold on, foxed out of my wits, and the next thing I knew, I was being rushed aside by a group of women. It wasn’t long before I ended up with no clothing and no blindfold whatsoever. But I learned from the experience. Learned that champagne parties are not only extremely dangerous, but that I prefer devoting myself to one woman at a time. For a man can only please so many women at once with true dedication.”
Which was the God-given truth.
Lady Charlotte lowered her eyes, wrote the number five just beneath his name, and circled it. Twice. “Do you sheath yourself during your escapades, My Lord? Or is there a chance you could be unclean?”
Alexander genuinely laughed in response. “A man of my experience would never engage in any escapade without sheathing himself. I always come prepared. Rest assured, love, I am clean. Very clean.”
He stood and gestured toward the buttons on his trousers, trying to remain serious, though he felt anything but. “Does the school require proof?”
Her eyes coolly trailed from the trousers he continued to point to up at his face. “Should you be accepted into the school, Harold will indeed ensure that you are clean. Complete physicals, after all, are required.”
Alexander slowly sat, feeling his bollocks rapidly traveling north. Harold wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. “Harold?” he couldn’t help but echo.
“Yes. Harold.” She dipped her quill into the glass inkwell, a small smile playing on her lips. “Next question. Have you ever engaged in sexual activities with a man?”
“What?” Alexander’s brows popped up in response, his mind still not having quite gotten over the whole Harold bit. “No. Of course not.”
She nodded and placed another x beside his name. “Have you ever considered or desired to engage in sexual activities with a man?”
“Hell, I think Caldwell may have.” He laughed and then squinted at all the x’s she had placed beside his name. It was a downright curious way to go about documenting their conversation.
She lifted her gaze from her paper. Pinning him with a firm stare, she replied in a manner which he himself often used when speaking to his youngest sister. “I assure you your answers will not leave this paper or this room. All I ask is that you answer the question. Have you ever thought about engaging in sexual activities with a man?”
“I’m not all that worried about my answers leaving the room. Believe me, I’ve seen and done everything.” He paused. “Well…except that.”
“No is suffic
ient, My Lord.” She placed another x beside his name. “There is no need to insult other people’s sexual preferences. The idea behind the school is to broaden your tolerance toward all forms of sexuality. That way, there is no limit to your imagination or your form of pleasure.”
Alexander stared at her. So she took buggery in stride, did she? He’d certainly always thought to each his own, but by the calm, refined look on her face, he sensed that her nonchalant approach to sexuality was in fact genuine. Which in truth astounded him. For he rarely met a woman of her rank that felt that comfortable with all forms of sexuality. Who wasn’t a Hawksford, that is.
“Back to a few more questions,” she went on. “Have you ever pleasured a woman using unconventional means?”
The heat of his body was actually becoming intolerable. For he knew he wanted to do a few unconventional things with her. Against one of the walls. He cleared his throat and smoothed the front of his waistcoat, trying to keep his lower half from becoming too involved in the conversation. “Yes. I have.”
She sighed, sounding rather agitated. “Define one of those methods.”
“Define one of them?” he asked in disbelief, leaning forward. He’d never really gone into detail before. Not even when discussing it with Caldwell. “You mean in detail?”
“Yes. In detail.”
He swiped a hand over his face and tried to think of one of the lesser evils. He didn’t want another one of those looks from her. Though he supposed that couldn’t well be avoided.
Lady Charlotte lowered her eyes, pressing her lips together in a firm line, as if awaiting a response she already knew the answer to.
So. The woman thought she knew him well enough? To hell with that. He wasn’t about to give her that sort of satisfaction. “Actually,” he replied, trying to keep his face from betraying the fact that he wanted to laugh, “I prefer to keep things simple. In fact, I never dare wander from the prescribed position.”
She eyed him suspiciously, then leaned down to her paper and marked not one, but three very large X’s beneath his name, changing the pattern of all the small x’s.
Lord of Pleasure Page 7