A Little More Discreet Madness: A Risqué Regency Romance

by Sahara Kelly

  “Come now. Tell me your name, then I can move on to phase two of my morning’s activities.”

  Curious, Charis couldn’t help herself. “Phase two?”

  “Getting you up here with me and taking you wherever it is you’re going.” He patted the cushioned seat next to him. “It’s my first time out in this curricle, you know. It won’t be half so much fun if I don’t get to show it off to somebody.”

  Charis sighed as she looked at the gorgeous grays harnessed to the shining vehicle. “That is a splendid pair of matched tits.”

  Using the stable term unconsciously, she never noticed Sinjun’s gaze drift to her breasts. “Yes, they are, aren’t they?”

  “Sweet goers, too, probably?”

  “Indubitably. Under the right touch, of course.”

  “Yours, I presume?”

  “I’m beginning to think so, yes.”

  Charis blinked, wondering if the conversation had gone off track somewhat. Riding behind these beauties in this lovely curricle was a really strong inducement. And it would put a lot more distance between her and Aunt Margaret, which would be important. As long as she started to watch for gypsy signs once she reached Lark’s Cross…

  “Oh well. You win.” She held out her hand for Sinjun to help her into the curricle. “If you can take me as far as Lark’s Cross, I’ll be very grateful.”

  “Happy to.” He smiled and flicked the reins. “And your name?”

  “Charis.”

  “Mmm. I like that. It means grace in Greek, you know.”

  “So I’ve been told. Sadly, I never quite managed to live up to it.” She leaned back with a sigh and removed her bonnet, letting her cloak drop to the seat as the horses picked up speed. “By God, I knew it. Those are truly awesome tits.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Chapter Two

  St. John Richard Mountford Randall the Third was enjoying himself enormously. Fate, in the shape of the delightful Louisa Lloyd-Jones— his cousin by marriage, had conspired rather nicely to deliver his potential bride into his hands.

  “Take a trip to nowhere, Sinjun,” she’d told him. “Find yourself a place where you can think. Take off your clothes, feel the sun on your body and let go of your past. Give yourself chance to consider the future and what it is you really want, before you commit to anything.”

  He’d snorted, but then wondered if she was right. Hence his journey to his friend’s estate. Although he wasn’t planning on lounging around George’s grounds stark naked. Not many gentlemen of his acquaintance did that. Not while sober, anyway. But then again, right at this moment he wasn’t feeling terribly gentlemanly.

  A gentleman would probably have pointed out that his new friend was on the wrong road for Lark’s Cross. And then immediately revealed his identity as soon as he recognized her unique name. A gentleman would also have returned Miss Charis to the bosom of her family, thus to await his formal proposal of marriage.

  He smiled. Gentlemen must lead awfully dull lives.

  “So.” He began the conversation. “I’m going to take a guess and assume I’m assisting in an escape of sorts.”

  She glanced at him, eyes wide, innocent and very blue. “What on earth makes you think so?”

  “The bag. The dusty shoes. Not to mention the traveling cape. You’re not exactly going for a short stroll down to the village.”

  “Observant, I’ll give you that.”

  “Meeting a lover?”

  “God, no.” It was vehement, to say the least. “Avoiding one if you must know.”

  “Really?” He infused the question with curiosity and interest. It worked.

  “I refuse to marry a lackwit.” She nodded decisively. “It is not to be tolerated.”

  Sinjun swallowed. “A lackwit? Surely not.”

  She shrugged and within moments the story was laid bare. Or at least her version of it. “So you see, he’s probably an old, drooling imbecile. Or worse.”

  “There’s worse?”

  She ignored the comment. “I expect he only wants me as a brood mare anyway. Isn’t that why men marry? To get heirs?” She turned and looked at him. “Can you think of any other reason?”

  “Um…well…” Sinjun thought about that for a few moments. “Perhaps he needs the settlements?”

  Charis shrugged. “Possibly. They must be quite hefty to induce him to offer for me.” She faced forward. “There is one thing I omitted to mention.”

  “Oh?”

  Her throat moved as she gulped. “I’m ruined, you see.”

  “Ah.” Sinjun stifled a grin. “Would that be ruined as in penniless? Because you don’t look ruined as in a twelfth century sacked church or something.”

  She flashed him a glare. “You’re making light of it.”

  “Well, until I fully understand, I’m not sure how to react.”

  Charis sighed. “Are you married, sir?”

  “I was. Once.” His mouth hardened. “She died.”

  “I’m sorry. My sympathies.”

  “Not necessary. It was a long time ago. I prefer not to think of it.”

  “I see.” She nodded. “A wise course.”

  “Indeed.” He leaned back a little, letting the horses dawdle. “So this ruination of yours…?” The question hung in the air.

  “Being once wed, I’m assuming you are familiar with the-the intimate nature of marriage?”

  “Ah—yes.” My, this was getting interesting.

  “And the fact that women aren’t supposed to know anything about them?” Charis’ cheeks were coloring slightly and she refused to meet his gaze.

  “I’ve heard rumors.”

  “Well. So—I didn’t quite conform to that belief.”

  “It is a bit of a silly theory, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She turned then and stared at him, eyes ablaze. “It is utterly stupid. Why shouldn’t a woman experience the pleasures of the marriage bed? And if she anticipates her vows a little, should it be the end of the world? Men can tomcat around all they want and they’re applauded for it. But if a woman should have desires—needs—she’s immediately ruined.”

  “The idiot refused to marry you, I take it?”

  Charis snorted. “He never got the chance to make a formal offer. My father had him shipped off to France. Not good enough for the Forbes-Wilkinsons, he said. And I was tainted goods, so I was exiled until the scandal had died down and someone could manage to overlook my fall from grace. Which brings us back to the lackwit.”

  “Ah, yes. The lackwit. He’s overlooking this problem, is he?”

  “Apparently so. They want me to tie myself for the rest of my life to a man I don’t know. To be a dutiful wife to a chucklehead who clearly either wants to marry into my family—something which immediately sets up my hackles—or has gone through four wives already in pursuit of an heir.”

  “Four wives?”

  She waved his comment aside. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do. ‘Tis the way of our world, you know. A man does prefer that his first child, most probably his heir, is indeed the fruit of his own loins.”

  Charis nodded. “I understand that. But it’s the whole business of branding a woman yet praising a man that sticks in my craw. And you know something?” She gestured with her hands. “I’m not ashamed to admit I enjoyed it.”

  “Really? Good for you.”

  Recalled to her surroundings, Charis subsided with a blush. “Forgive me, Mr Randall. This is an extremely improper conversation. I apologize if I’ve embarrassed you.”

  Sinjun, who was enjoying himself a hell of a lot more than he’d ever imagined when he’d started out that morning, shook his head. “Not at all, Miss Charis. I’m a man, thus immune to embarrassment.”

  “You see? You can listen to all this and not get your petticoats in a twist.” She wrinkled her nose. “All right, so you’re not wearing petticoats. But the point is—” She leaned toward him in emphasis. “The point is, you can admit you enjoy—
things—and not get horrified gasps when you say so. You can spend the night with whomever you please, doing whatever you want, and nobody would dare to call you ruined…”

  Charis’ voice tapered off and a strange look came into her eyes. Sinjun watched, fascinated, wondering what might be the next thing to pop out of this delightful young woman’s mouth. So far, she’d managed to surprise and entertain him a great deal. And it was still early.

  “I say…” She shifted on the seat of the curricle, her thigh brushing his, although probably by accident although he could wish it were otherwise. “You’re not married or anything right at this moment, are you?”

  “No, not right at this moment.”

  “Hmm.” She tugged her full lower lip between her teeth as she thought intensely about something.

  Sinjun found himself wanting to do the same thing. Tug her lower lip between his teeth. Her hair glowed with reddish lights in the morning sun, her skin was daintily freckled and that mouth—well, it was decadence made flesh.

  Lips that were ripe and full betrayed a sensual nature and by God Sinjun could damn near feel them wrapped snugly around his cock—

  She blinked, then turned her blue eyes to his face. “If you’re not busy this morning, do you think you might possibly be able to ruin me some more?”

  *~~*~~*

  Charis, my girl, you’ve run completely mad.

  The thought flashed through her mind even as her mouth spoke the fateful words. But it was dismissed instantly. This Sinjun Randall looked like—well, delectable was a good description. He’d betrayed a quick sense of humor, which Charis found very appealing, he had two fabulous horses—a strong point in his favor—and lovely eyes.

  And some time spent exploring her physical nature with him might well prove to be enlightening. Her breasts tingled at the thought.

  But overriding all these considerations was the fact that if she was ruined again, the lackwit would doubtless withdraw his offer. She would be finally free.

  “Of course, if it’s inconvenient, I shall completely understand.” Her hands trembled at little at the utter shamelessness of her suggestion.

  “I might be willing to consider it.” His voice was still friendly, not horrified or shocked or anything he probably should have been. “I happen to be on my way to a friend’s country home. It’s not far from here. I have business in the area and he’s away. Do you think that would suit?”

  She gulped. “You would really do this?”

  Something heated flashed behind his brown eyes. “Of course. How could I refuse a lady’s request for assistance?”

  “It’s not the ordinary sort of thing, you know. Not—um—carry my packages for me or sign my dance card for the waltz…”

  “I understand. You want me to ruin you. To take you to my bed and reintroduce you to those physical pleasures you found in the arms of your unfortunate lover years ago.”

  Charis lifted an eyebrow. “It was only a couple of years. I have found them since, too, you know.”

  “There have been others?” His tone was abrupt.

  “Certainly not.” Charis straightened, then blushed furiously as she realized what she’d just admitted.

  “Well, well.” His lips curved into a grin. “I am more committed than ever, Miss Charis. It seems we shall manage to enjoy ourselves and ruin you at the same time, eh?”

  “Thank you. That would work out very nicely.”

  She was set on this course. It was appalling, would totally ostracize her from her family and society. And it would set her free.

  “I think a day and a night should just about do it.”

  His words recalled her to her plans. “Yes, most definitely. If there is some way you could manage to get word to my family of our-er-interlude, I would appreciate it. I’ll be long gone, of course.”

  “Where?” He sounded mildly curious.

  “Since I’m appointing you keeper of my secrets and master of my upcoming ruination, I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. I have a friend who knows a lot about horses. I’m going to join her when I find her family’s campsite. I will learn even more than I know now. Then I shall breed them.” She paused. “Well, at least that’s the plan. How Jenny will feel about it, I’m not sure.”

  There were a few details that needed working out, like where Charis would get the funding for her own stable if her family cut her off, but she refused to let those thoughts stop her. Better to be a penniless wanderer than the wife of a lackwit.

  “A laudable ambition.” Sinjun nodded. “I believe we are less than half an hour away from our destination, so why don’t you give me your opinion of my lads?” He nodded at the matched pair drawing the curricle. “I’m rather proud of them myself. Got a wonderful deal.”

  The conversation turned to horses, a subject dear to Charis’ heart. Sinjun was a knowledgeable companion, it turned out, and a pleasure to listen to. They exchanged ideas and laughed together at some of the absurdities gentlemen went to when trying to buy the perfect mount.

  They were in complete charity with each other, Charis realized, as he turned the reins and headed down a shaded lane toward a comfortable looking house.

  “Here’s our destination, Miss Charis.” He nodded ahead.

  She swallowed. “Very well, Mr Randall.”

  He pulled neatly to a halt in front of the glowing red brick building, the gravel crunching beneath his wheels. Then he turned to her.

  “There are rules, you know.”

  “There are?” Charis looked at his face. He was so very handsome, but at this moment there was something more in his gaze. A determination perhaps, a strength of will—she wasn’t quite sure. But for the first time, she found herself wondering if she’d made a wise decision.

  “First rule. You call me Sinjun. I call you Charis.”

  She nodded. “Very well. Sinjun.” She tested the word. “I like it. Unusual.”

  He jumped to the ground and came around to her side, leaning on the shiny black curricle wing. “Second rule. You will do everything I tell you to do. Without question.”

  “I-I-er—”

  “I will not harm you. Nor hurt you. But I will make love to you. You will make love to me. It won’t work unless it’s the two of us, Charis. And you will rely on me to show you how to achieve maximum pleasure from our time together. Since it is so limited, we’re going to make every second count. Do I make myself clear?”

  His eyes roamed her face then moved down to gaze at her breasts. She could swear she felt her nipples hardening beneath the force of that gaze.

  She nodded. “I understand, Sinjun. I understand.”

  Somehow or other, those words seemed to seal her fate. She put her hand in his and allowed him to help her from the curricle.

  Chapter Three

  The door to which he led her was opened by a rather flustered butler who gaped at her as she stood next to Sinjun.

  “Oh-oh Mr Randall, sir. I was unaware you’d be bringing company.” He cleared his throat. “Of the female sort, sir.”

  Sinjun grinned. “Is it a problem, Matthews?”

  “No sir.” The man gulped. “It’s just that we don’t have any womenfolk here today. Expecting you to be alone, sir, I took the liberty of giving the maids the day off. Sir George said you were looking for somewhere to relax…” His voice tapered off as he shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

  “Don’t worry about it. Miss Charis and I are desirous of privacy. I think this will work out very well indeed.” He stepped inside as Charis followed. “I assume Mrs. Chalmers has left plenty of food?”

  “Of course sir.” The butler closed the door behind them. “But nothing—well, I mean nothing of a fancy nature, sir.” He looked vaguely distressed. “Just some pie and bread and cheese—gentleman’s fare, sir.”

  “I like pie.” Charis smiled at the butler. “And I’m sure it’s a delicious one.”

  “Well, yes, Miss.” Matthews nodded. “Makes a very good pie does our cook. Ver
y good indeed.”

  “There we are then. It’ll be fine.” Sinjun drew Charis further into the hall. “As I said, Miss Charis and I have business to attend to that will take some time.” He flashed a wicked glance at the butler, still standing rigid by the door. “Are you still paying your respects to that nice widow who runs the dairy?”

  Charis watched in fascination as a dull red crept over the man’s cheeks. “Er…”

  “Thought so.” Sinjun was unrepentant. “Tell you what, Matthews. Why don’t you take the day off too? I believe we can survive quite nicely all alone here for a day. Come back tomorrow morning, lad. Enjoy some free time. Give that lovely widow’s ample bottom a pinch from me.”

  “Sir.” Matthews’ tone was a mixture of eagerness and outrage.

  “Run along, man. We’ll be fine.”

  Slowly, the butler turned to a door off the hall. “Well, if you’re sure, Mr Randall sir?”

  “Completely sure. It’s a myth, you know. We can manage quite well without servants for a few hours, no matter what anyone says.”

  “Indeed, Matthews.” Charis nodded. “I’ve been quite used to doing for myself, you know.”

  “It’s highly irregular.”

  Sinjun’s grin widened. “You have no idea.”

  “Very well, then, sir. I’ll take my leave.” He bowed respectfully. “Can’t say I’m easy about this whole thing, but Sir George did say you were to be accorded every comfort.”

  “And your absence will be a comfort, Matthews. Knowing you’re indulging that randy side of yours will sustain me.”

  Muttering various instructions about kitchens and door latches, Matthews finally left Sinjun and Charis alone in the foyer of the house.

  “Thank God. I thought he’d never leave.” Sinjun took Charis by the arm. “Come on. Let’s go into the parlor. It’s this way.”

  Charis looked around her interestedly. It was not a large house by any standards, but just the sort of place a gentleman could come to on weekends or when he needed a break from town entertainments. The walls were beautifully paneled and the floors shone with many applications of beeswax.