Taming Saffina

by Flora Dain

  * * * *

  With my ball taking place in a few days, I quickly recovered. Life was too exciting to mope for long. Even Madame Junot claimed my short stay with friends had done me good. At Jacquard’s insistence, I told no one about my ordeal, but a small part of me fretted. I felt nothing for the aunts. They deserved to suffer. But my guardian was so angry that I feared he’d take his threats too far.

  One morning, well before noon, we discussed it over a light breakfast. “What about Nigel? Is he to be arrested?”

  Jacquard gave me a dark look and instantly dismissed the footmen about to serve us chilled soup.

  As they left the room, he glared at me across the table. “When will you learn to hold your tongue in front of the servants? What? Drag him through the courts? And have my character and yours exposed in public? Naturally not. But respectable people dread any hint of scandal. The threat of exposing them alone terrified them. They’ll think twice before showing their face in society again. My lawyers will make sure of that.”

  He leaned back in his chair with a mysterious smile. “So, are you ready for an outing?”

  “As you see, sir. But where are we going?” I gazed at him, puzzled at his satisfied air.

  He’d warned me the day before that we’d be going on a visit. To my fury, he’d refused to say where. He’d instructed Madame Junot to lay out my finest day clothes and a pelisse and matching bonnet of sober green velvet.

  I guessed we were to visit somewhere grand. Now, as I gazed at his hooded, cynical smile, I felt my heart sink. “You’ve found me a suitor? Am I to parade before more aunts? Where are we going?”

  With a sigh he rose from the table but said nothing.

  “You might at least tell me, sir. I thought all my suitors would be coming to the ball? Surely I can choose one then?”

  His mysterious smile stayed firmly in place.

  He continued to ignore my questions all the way into the carriage, out onto the highway and all during our long journey deep into the country. Soon I tired of asking.

  To enrage me still further, he carefully placed a large bouquet of roses on the seat beside him. We were to visit a lady?

  To signal my unconcern, I pretended to enjoy the scenery for the next hour, all the while raging inside. Now what?

  All at once I spotted a familiar steeple then a row of cottages. “Wait. I know this place. We’re… It’s…“ I stared at him. “This is where I grew up. Why are we here, sir?”

  My eyes narrowed as an awful thought struck me. “You’re sending me back here to live?” Tears stung. “Have I been so very bad, then?”

  His low laugh infuriated me even more. He leaned across and patted my knee. “Hush. I have a very different reason for bringing you here. Can you not guess?”

  “No, indeed. I— Oh.”

  As the carriage turned off the road, I saw we were driving into a small churchyard. And among the group of people standing by the church door, I saw a face I knew.

  As the footman opened the door and set down the steps, I seethed with impatience. But in seconds I’d leaped out of the coach and hurried over. “Mistress Baines?”

  It was a tricky reunion. Partly because my old housekeeper refused to believe I’d grown up at all and partly because when she did, she was so in awe of my new ladylike self. But she soon melted when I kissed her cheek.

  I shook hands with the others, while Jacquard stood quietly by.

  At last he took my arm and handed over the flowers. “Here. You’ll need these.”

  Mistress Baines looked from him to me. “You’ve not told her yet, my lord?”

  “Not yet.” He grinned, his eyes still on me. “Shall we surprise her, Mistress Baines? Lead on, if you will.”

  She and the vicar led the way round to the back of the church and along the path. As we went, I started to guess why. We were in a part of the churchyard I knew well.

  Except the last time I’d seen it I’d been barely fourteen and a very different person. I gazed up at Jacquard. “Is this what I think it is?”

  He glanced at the flowers. “I hope so. Over there. What do you think?”

  As the little crowd drew to a halt I gazed in wonder. In the quiet corner of the churchyard where I’d last laid a small bunch of violets on the plain, unmarked grave of my beloved Gunner Baines, stood a bold new marble headstone. It was inscribed in gilded lettering with his name, his dates and details of his bravery. It ended with the names of his family and one final phrase, ‘and a caring and generous protector to the Gunner’s Lass’.

  I held on to Jacquard’s arm, tears spilling over. He folded his hand over mine. “Does the inscription suit, milady?”

  “Yes, sir,” I whispered, my heart full. “It suits beautifully.”

  With my bouquet now safely stowed in its rightful place at the headstone’s foot, we all repaired to the local inn. Here tears turned to smiles over a splendid meal of capons and ale.

  While Jacquard discussed with the men the best local spots for shooting and fishing, Mistress Baines and I pored over old times.

  As we finally parted, my old housekeeper was clearly too much in awe of Jacquard to say much, but he shook her hand warmly.

  “So tell me, madam. Do you find your child much changed?”

  With many blushes, honest Mistress Baines did what she could to spare mine but keep to the truth. “She was allus a wild child, sir, an’ no mistake. But her temper kep’ her goin’ when plenty wudda given up. The way she cared for my poor brother…”

  As her tears welled up again, he patted her shoulder, glancing my way with a dark gleam of amusement. “Have no fear there, madam. She’s changed little.”

  The old woman wiped away a fond tear. “Well, sir, I hope as she never will.”

  As we rode away I waved till they were out of sight, my heart full. Her low words over luncheon still rang in my ears. “Sought me out, he did—an’ him a great lord. Asked all about my brother, an’ where he were buried. When I showed him he were proper put about. Said he’d see a proper headstone fer him. Least he could do.”

  On the way back, I avoided Jacquard’s eye. I feared I’d disgrace myself by blurting out how grateful I was. I dreaded some sardonic remark or the curl of his lip. This kindness to me and my old housekeeper cut me far deeper than any whipping.

  For much of the journey I leaned against him, my head on his shoulder. “How did you find her?”

  “It took a while. Your grandmother’s lawyers told me where you came from, but they knew nothing else about you. So I rode over and made enquiries. I told you your grandmother and I had met once or twice. She’d also heard reports of me in Paris. She asked her lawyers to apply to me after her death to ensure the safe transfer of her legacy to you. When I agreed, for her sake, to be your guardian, all I knew was your name, a little of your parents and that you were an orphan. Nothing else.” He grinned down at me. “No one even knew where you were. So I set my lawyers on it. In truth, I was busy abroad. The Hall was empty, the servants idle. I took you on without giving much thought to the matter.”

  I gave him a sharp look. “And if you had, sir? Knowing what you know of me now?”

  He looked away with a smile but said nothing.

  There, don’t cry, lass. You done good for the Gunner. Fetch me grog. I’ll sleep now.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning I was happily choosing a morning gown from a selection heaped over Madame’s skinny arm when Jacquard appeared in the doorway.

  Hastily I covered myself. I caught a gleam in his eyes at my déshabillé. So flowing hair and part-glimpsed breasts still stirred him? Interesting…

  “Madame Junot? A word.” He led her out into the corridor.

  I crept close to the door to listen.

  I heard Madame’s low whisper. “The Amber Room, milord? She’s unprepared…”

  “Hush, not so loud. Unprepared? Then see to it. No, wait. I’ll see to it.”

  All at once the door opened wide. I almost fel
l backward.

  His sardonic glance reddened my cheeks. “You also listen at doors, ma’am? Is there no end to your talents?”

  “Milord, please…” Madame followed him in, snatching at his arm.

  He pushed her away with a low growl. “Enough. Fetch me the smallest one. Now.”

  As she hurried away I stared at him. “I thought we were to entertain your friends at luncheon today. You plan some new torment, sir?”

  The guests were due in an hour.

  He drew close and ran his fingers through my hair, then traced the line of my cleavage. His touch made me shiver. His steady look made me throb.

  “We are. And it is torment, in a way. Some might describe it more warmly.”

  When Madame reappeared, she handed him an object wrapped in tawny silk then left.

  I glanced at it, suspicious. “What’s that?”

  He pushed up my skirts and slipped his hand between my thighs. “Open.”

  Mesmerized by his dark, steady look, I wound my arms round his neck. I fought to keep still as his fingers explored me fully. In seconds, I was twitching with arousal.

  His low murmur, so close to my ear, made me shiver. “Soon we must part. You’ve learned much. You bore the rigors of the Jade Room well. But pleasure has other colors. Tonight you will come to the Amber Room.”

  I swallowed. “What happens in there?”

  “Patience,” he whispered. “You’ll see.”

  “But…is the room not yet ready? I’d sooner not have carpenters watching.”

  He laughed. “It’s been ready for months—unlike you. But we’ll soon change that. Come here.” He sat on the bed and patted his lap.

  I drew close and prepared to sit sideways.

  Instantly he closed his knees. “Astride.”

  As I did so, he handed me the object. In my hands the silk fell away to reveal a smooth tube of gleaming amber, tapered at one end and bulging at the other. It had a pinched, flaring base. Light glowed through it in flashes of gold, orange and honey.

  I fondled it, my fingers lingering on its smooth, swelling curve. “It’s beautiful. It feels warm. Sensual.”

  He leaned his cheek on mine. “Like the person who’ll wear it now. You met one before, remember?” He took it out of my quivering fingers. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  I gasped. “It’s a… We used a jade one when you…” I stared at him, speechless. “You mean it goes…in there?”

  He traced a line with it all down my cheek, teasing my lips with the warm, pointy end. “Yes. In there.”

  Below me I felt a distinct jolt from his manhood, stirring already. The rigidity of it pressed painfully into my softness as he lifted the object over my face and tilted up my chin.

  “And now in here. Take it in your mouth. You must wet it first. Lick the tip.”

  His lazy smile sent sparks through me. He held it over my face and made me arch to reach. At last I caught it and sucked gently. From the jerks below me as I did it, I gathered he—or more likely his cock—found my efforts highly entertaining.

  At last it filled my mouth. The bulge fitted behind my teeth and the tapered end covered my lips to silence me fully.

  I stared at him in panic. With a calm smile, he put my hands firmly at my back and took my heavy breasts in his hands. I braced myself as he rolled and pinched with his fingers and thumbs till my nipples grew swollen and stiff.

  “In a moment I’ll insert it and you’ll wear it all morning. Before you come down to meet our guests, Madame will replace it with a larger one. Later, she’ll insert a larger one still. Then she’ll bring you to the Amber Room.”

  I mewled in alarm, still muzzled by its awful flared base.

  His eyes narrowed. “No arguments,” he said sternly. “Open.”

  With a gulp I parted my lips for him to withdraw the amber. He held it up to the light, its rich colors glistening now with my saliva. “Ready?”

  To avoid his eye, I nuzzled into his neck, thrilling to the scent of his freshly shaven skin. The shame of what he was doing sent ripples of heat all through me.

  Below my aching, dripping slit, already swelling and eager, I felt his cock stir and leap. I writhed as he ran the tip of the warm amber plug slowly down my spine and prodded behind me at my most secret place.

  He’s enjoying this too?

  He captured my mouth, his tongue parting my lips so fiercely he startled me. At the same time, he pushed the thing firmly up into my rear. As his kiss consumed my lips and his tongue all my attention, I felt the object tease its way into me. But filled with the powerful action of his hungry mouth, I barely noticed the other intrusion until it was fully inserted and settled in place.

  As he pulled away, I gasped, blushing under his steady gaze. I tried to wriggle, instantly hampered by the awful thing inside.

  “But it feels so… Do I have to?” Dismayed, I scanned his face.

  “Until Madame removes it. Kneel.”

  “Why?” Obediently I sank before him.

  He took my face in his hands. “You must promise me not to touch yourself. All day. Can you do that?”

  My heart sank. I’d secretly vowed to frot myself to frenzy the instant he’d gone. It was all I could do to refrain from doing it right then and there, under his merciless gaze. How else could I gain release from the pounding throbs of arousal that drummed through me from the dual effect of his busy fingers and the amber invader? But to my despair, even this was denied me.

  “You are too cruel, sir,” I pleaded. “I need release now. This minute. I—”

  “Hush, my sweet. I know. But you must wait. I insist. Promise me.” He kissed my fingers one by one, folding them in his hands. “Or I’ll bind your hands to keep them out of reach.” He grinned. “We’ll tell our guests it’s for your deportment.”

  A twitch of arousal down near his hips hinted this ghastly prospect had strong appeal.

  In front of our guests? I shuddered. The shame of it.

  I closed my eyes briefly. “Yes, then,” I whispered. “I promise.”

  As I said it, I was reminded of the torment to come by my painfully aching bud.

  All day? How will I bear it?

  But he was already unbuttoning his flap. Now I saw the last few moments had tormented him too. His cock sprang out, glossy and eager.

  No need to ask why. I was already dripping with arousal, my swollen folds near numb with need. I pushed from him and leaned forward, filling my mouth like I wanted filling elsewhere, surging his length like a woman starved. His cock leaped in response, stifling my tongue as it hit the back of my eager, yawning throat.

  Overcome with heat from the urgent pressure down below, I lunged again and again, desperate to feel myself.

  But my cruel master simply looked on, calmly stroking my face as I eagerly sucked him to completion. When I was done, my only reward was the light brush of his lips on mine.

  “Delicious. Remember… No touching. We’ll meet later.”

  The thing was awkward to wear, harder still to manage with any grace. After the first tottering steps, made worse by his cynical grin, I gradually adapted. But walking was awkward and sitting impossible.

  The thought that somehow I must sparkle for guests and try to behave normally with so much going on down below aroused me to a frenzy of lust.

  But do it I must. And later, just as I put the finishing touches to my hair and my prettiest, frothiest tea gown, here came Madame Junot, another silk-wrapped object in her hand.

  At my scowl she pressed her thin lips together. “Orders, milady.”

  She made me bend over the bed and hoisted my skirts. This time I was spared the shaming ordeal of sucking it wet. Instead she began to smear thick, scented grease all over it. I watched her long, yellow fingers for a moment, resentment building.

  “Tell me, Madame. I’m curious. Are you and my guardian lovers?”

  I said it out of sheer irritation. The cruel beauty of the new object, amber as before but distinctly larg
er, was making me rattled.

  But the effect on her was startling.

  First she grew bone pale then she flushed a deep, ugly crimson.

  Fury flashed over me. So it was true? I seized her arms and shook her. “Answer me…yes or no?”

  She flinched. The sight of my stern snake of a governess at such a loss rather threw me but I gripped her harder, dreading the truth.

  “We met for the first time many years ago, milady. He was young, very ’andsome. Rich. I was working in une maison close—an establishment—in Paris. He use me once or twice.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “It was not…love, in any sense you mean. ’E was lonely. Troubled.”

  I snorted. “If it’s not love, then why are you two still so close?”

  “He did me a great kindness, milady. That was all. After that, we become friends.” She paused.

  My scowl urged her on.

  “One night he come as usual but refuse to lie with me. Instead ’e want to talk.” She spread her hands. “He’d met someone.” She smiled, suddenly gay. “I tell ’im I too ’ave a lover—one of ze girls—but our love was forbidden. Rules were strict. No chance for us.”

  She glanced at me with tears in her eyes. “Private rooms were kept for clients. So ’e pay for us both to amuse ’im two or three days and nights at a time. He order wine, food, enough to last, and pay for all. But as soon as we lock the door, ’e slip away to stay with friends to give us time together.” Her long face creased in a sad smile. “He do it often, whenever ’e visit Paris.”

  She dashed away a tear. “Later she die…my lover. But ’is lordship give us true ’appiness. I owe him always. I would die for ’im.”

  I stared. Her story was startling enough, but this was a true revelation. Madame Junot had a heart? For the first time ever, I submitted without fuss. As she slipped the vile thing into place, I hardly noticed.

  Her story had me numbed.