“Indeed we are.” Nicholas inclined his head an inch and pointed to the box he had deposited on the bed. “And I’d like you to wear these clothes. Ask Polly to help you put them on. I’ll see you downstairs in half an hour.”
Louisa bit her lip. He didn’t exactly sound delighted to be asking for her company, but at least he wasn’t ignoring her. She sighed and walked over to the bed, lifted the lid of the dress box. “Whatever does he want me to wear? It looks like something from my mother’s wardrobe.”
She took out the old-fashioned gold satin overgown and held it up against her. Beneath the dress lay a brown lace underskirt, a single petticoat, a thin shift, a plain set of stays, and a matching brown bodice.
“Ooh, my lady. Whatever is this? Are you going to a masquerade ball?” Polly breathed close to Louisa’s ear. “It looks like the dress in that portrait in the hall the earl’s grandmother is wearing.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Louisa allowed Polly to help her out of her thin high-waisted muslin dress and remove all her clothing but her stockings and garters. She shivered and drew closer to the heat of the fire. “I’m sure there should be more petticoats and some kind of frame or bustle to hold the skirt out.”
Polly dropped the new shift over Louisa’s head. It was made of such fine lawn that it barely made a difference to her comfort or her modesty. “That’s true, my lady. Do you want me to go and find some more petticoats? Maybe the modiste forgot to put them in.”
Conscious that Nicholas had told her to wear only what was in the box, Louisa shook her head. “No, thank you, Polly. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t want all those layers anyway. I don’t know how our ancestors managed with all those heavy petticoats on.”
“Neither do I, my lady.” Polly laced Louisa into the long stays, tied the petticoat, and then pinned the bodice to it. Lastly Louisa stepped into the underskirt and pinned that to the bodice. “At least the gown has long sleeves and some lovely gold lace on it. That should keep you warm enough.”
Louisa shrugged into the overdress and waited while Polly settled it around her shoulders and drew it closed at her waist with two small hooks. She looked in the mirror and saw how well the brown underskirt contrasted with the gold and how the stays pushed her bosom up to overflow the bodice of the gown. She flattened her hands over her chest, but there was no place for her breasts to go other than outward.
“Do you think it is … quite decent?”
Polly giggled. “I’m sure his lordship will think so. Now let me fix your hair and find you a nice warm cloak and you’ll look perfect, my lady.”
* * *
Quarter of an hour later, Louisa scooped up the gold mask that Polly had discovered in the bottom of the dress box, gathered her cloak around her, and descended into the hall. Nicholas stood waiting for her; his long, flowing cloak concealed his clothing. He wore riding boots rather than his usual shoes.
He held out his hand. “Are you ready, my lady?”
“Yes, my lord.”
His smile was quite wicked as he escorted her through the door and into the carriage. “I’m glad to hear it. I hope this evening lives up to your expectations.”
“My expectations?” She studied him as he took the seat opposite her. “I wasn’t aware that I had any.”
“Of me, or of marriage?”
“That is hardly fair, sir.” She looked away and gathered her skirts more closely around her.
“True when the only confidantes you have on the subject are your mother and my sister.” He crossed his booted feet at the ankle. “And I should imagine their views on the subject of marriage don’t always agree.”
“That is true, my lord.” She tried to smile. “I have received nothing but good advice from them both, and all of it conflicting.”
“Did it ever occur to you to ask me?”
She finally looked at him. “Why would I do that?”
His smile was full of warmth. “Because, surely I am the person most involved with your future happiness and well-being.”
She licked her lips, aware that with Nicholas in such a confiding mood she had nothing to lose and perhaps much to gain. “I did ask you.”
He leaned back and studied her, his eyes narrow. “I suppose you did, in your own unique way, and I hope you will be pleased with my efforts to accommodate you.”
Louisa was about to ask for clarification when the carriage stopped moving and the door was opened to let the steps down.
“Put your mask on, Louisa,” Nicholas commanded.
By the time she was helped out of the carriage and up the wide steps of a large mansion, she was too intrigued to ask anything at all. Nicholas led her into a large marbled hall where a footman stood stationed at the bottom of the stairs.
“Good evening, my lord, ma’am, and welcome. May I take your cloaks?”
“Good evening. You may take the lady’s cloak.”
Louisa shivered when Nicholas untied the ribbons of her cloak and handed it to the footman. Nicholas remained staring down at her, his gaze fixed on the swell of her bosom. She resisted the temptation to cover herself. He’d chosen the gown for her; he must have known the effect such tight lacing and the old-fashioned stays would have.
“You look very nice. Very … ravishable.”
“Thank you.” He took her hand and kissed the palm. “Where exactly are we?”
He led her toward the curving staircase. “We’re at the pleasure house, I thought you might enjoy it.”
Her fingers clenched on his sleeve. “A bawdy house?”
“No, a house of sexual pleasure for the rich.”
Louisa dug in her heels and stopped moving. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Not at all. There are no prostitutes here, only willing members of the upper classes who like a bit of variety in their sexual pleasures.”
“Oh.” At the gentle pressure of his fingers on her elbow, Louisa resumed walking, her mind in a whirl. Nicholas’s calm explanation about such a forbidden subject unnerved her. It was all very well to pretend that such sexual excess existed in her mind, but to actually find out they were available in real life? That was both deliciously decadent and surprisingly tempting.
At the top of the stairway a large portrait of a beautiful blond woman dominated the landing.
“Who is that?”
“That’s Madame Helene, the remarkable woman who founded the pleasure house.”
“She is very beautiful.” Louise wondered if she sounded as wistful as she felt.
“She is not only beautiful, but intelligent as well.”
“You’ve been here before, then?”
“In my past, yes.”
“And why did you bring me here?”
He drew her close and tipped up her chin with his fingertip. “To allow your fantasies to come to life, why else?”
He kissed her hard, his tongue moving possessively into her mouth, his arm wrapped around her waist holding her close. When he drew back, she couldn’t help but look around to see if anyone had noticed their passionate embrace.
He nuzzled her ear. “My dear, this is a place to indulge your fantasies. No one will mind if I kiss you as much as I want to, or if you kiss me back.”
There was a challenge in his voice that fired her blood. “Then perhaps you might show me around.”
He looked down at her for a long moment. “If, at any time, you wish to leave, just tell me and we’ll go.”
“Having gone to all the trouble of bringing me here, you suddenly assume I won’t like it?”
“Not that you won’t like it, more that you will be shocked.”
She gathered her courage. “Mayhap it is time for me to be shocked.”
He kissed her fingers. “Then come with me, and don’t remove your mask.”
* * *
Nicholas led Louisa into the main salon on the first floor. He had no intention of taking her to the two floors above, where the more unusual and perverse sexual activities took place. He
was certain the erotic antics being played out in the salon and the various viewing rooms attached to it would be enough to entertain Louisa—at least for tonight.
To the left of the double doors, two women and a man sprawled naked on a couch. The man was busy suckling at one of the women’s breasts while he enthusiastically fucked the other woman. Nicholas felt Louisa stiffen and experienced a corresponding response in his cock. He bent his head and kissed Louisa’s throat, admired the way her breasts plumped up over the tight bodice.
“What is it, my dear?”
She turned to whisper in his ear. “That man is with two women.”
Nicholas stopped to admire the tableau. “So he is.”
Louisa shivered. “Everyone can see them.”
“Yes.” He took her hand and moved her farther into the room, where a set of chairs were laid out in a circle. In the center of the circle, two men were carefully undressing a woman. Her eyes were closed, but a small smile played over her mouth as the men attended to her. “Would you like to watch?”
Louisa didn’t reply, but he maneuvered her into a chair anyway and placed his arm around her shoulders. He waited until one of the men began to unlace the woman’s corset before dropping his fingers down to toy with the edge of Louisa’s bodice. When the man kissed the woman’s breasts, he slid his fingers lower and found Louisa’s nipple. He squeezed and teased it into a tight bud while she moved restlessly against him.
When the second man latched on to the woman’s other breast Louisa sighed, and Nicholas covered her mouth with his and continued to fondle her nipple. He was hard now and quite willing to pull up her skirts and have her. But he had much more to show her, so much more for her to enjoy with him. And that was what it was all about, wasn’t it? Not a quick poke, but a lifetime of erotic experiences to share with one woman—this woman.
He helped Louisa to her feet and took her over toward the buffet table, which was situated at the other end of the long room. He offered her a drink, and she shook her head, her gaze now avidly flitting around the room, her cheeks flushed, her teeth constantly biting into her lower lip. He wanted his teeth there, his mouth possessing hers, his cock between those rosy lips.
He tried to sound nonchalant. “Well, what do you think?”
She looked up at him, her brown eyes wide. “It is like something out of a dream.”
“You have dreams like this?” She blushed. “Sometimes. Doesn’t everyone?”
“Indeed. You’ve dreamed of me, I hope.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“And what exactly do I do to you in these dreams?” She met his gaze. “Everything.”
His cock jerked at the shy invitation in her eyes. “Trust me. I intend to offer you more than you have ever dreamed of.”
Louisa caught her breath as Nicholas kissed her again. She wasn’t brave enough to tear at his clothing as many of the other patrons of the pleasure house were doing to their men. She yearned to feel his skin against hers, to see if she could reach the sexual heights he had shown her such an intriguing glimpse of.
“Come on.”
She allowed Nicholas to take her hand and lead her out of the large red and gold salon and into a quieter hallway lined with white painted doors.
“Where are we now?” she whispered as he continued to walk down the long line of closed doors. Each door had a small plaque. She tried to read some of them, but found that only added to her confusion. What on earth did “Ancient Rome” or “A Medieval Fantasy” mean? It was almost as if they were titles of books or paintings.
Nicholas stopped and held her close. “Do you trust me?”
She studied his expression. “Yes, of course.”
His smile was tender. “Good. Then close your eyes, count to five hundred, and then open the door and come in.” He kissed her hard on the mouth. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you.”
“But…” He kissed her again and then walked away, leaving her facing one of the doors. The handwritten sign on the door simply read “Louisa.” With a sigh, she closed her eyes and began to count. She’d said she trusted him and had agreed to come to this oddly exciting place, so what else could she do but obey his surprising request? Her body was already quivering with a strange mixture of anticipation and arousal.
When she finished counting, she took a deep breath and opened the door. Darkness met her gaze, and she stepped forward onto a wooden-planked floor until she could see the faint outline of a lantern. Around her were several large stacked barrels, a torn sail, and what looked like a mast and rigging. For some strange reason she could smell the sea, and a small breeze lifted her skirts.
She had almost reached the pool of light surrounding the lantern, when a body crashed into hers and she instinctively yelped. A large hand covered her mouth, and she was pinned to a man’s chest.
“I’ve got her, sir!” Instinctively, Louisa kicked out at the man’s shins and he laughed. “She’s a feisty one, Captain. Be careful she don’t rip your balls off with her teeth!”
Hearty laughter met the man’s ribald remarks, and Louisa fought even harder. Whatever was going on, she had obviously blundered into the wrong room. Where was Nicholas and who on earth was manhandling her? Whoever he was, he smelled like a wet kipper. Two other men appeared with lanterns in their hands, and she gaped at them. They were dressed as sailors, one with an eyepatch, the other with a thick beard and a cutlass clasped in his hand.
She kicked out even harder. “Let me go!”
“Not until the captain gets here, my lady. He doesn’t like stowaways, even pretty ones like you.”
Louisa’s thoughts swirled, slowed, and settled on a most peculiar notion. This scene was almost identical to the one at the beginning of her favorite gothic novel. The very one that had gone missing from her room. She took a deep breath and hoped she was right.
“Unhand me, sirs. You don’t know who you are dealing with. I’m Lady Clarissa Devine, daughter of the Duke of Clifftopville. He will have your heads for this!”
Crude laughter and jeers greeted her retort, and for a moment she wondered if she’d gotten it completely wrong. Then another figure joined the three men, and her throat dried up completely. It was definitely the pirate captain, his billowing white sleeves edged with lace, the neck of his shirt open to display a hint of dark hair and his muscled chest. A long blue sash was tied around his waist, tight black breeches, and top boots completed his attire. Louisa hardly dared look at his face as he swaggered toward her.
“What have we here, Dawkins?”
“A lady, Captain, well she says she’s a lady, but no real lady would be hiding aboard a pirate ship.”
“I was not hiding, sir. I fully intended to confront this, this brigand.”
A rakish smile displaying excellent teeth greeted Louisa’s challenge, and the pirate captain moved even closer. He forced her chin up and stared down at her, his blue eyes stern.
“Aye she is a beautiful wench, and indeed a true lady. I’d recognize Lady Clarissa anywhere.” He nodded at the crewmen. “You may leave us now. I’ll take care of her.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ll teach her a lesson or two about creeping aboard my property.”
“ ‘Tis hardly your property, sir, when you stole this ship from my father!” Louisa retorted.
“I stole nothing. Your father is the thief. He stole not only my ships but my birthright from me.”
“You lie!” Louisa opened her eyes wide and threw herself away from him as the other sailors disappeared, leaving her alone in the semi-darkness with the pirate captain.
His hand snaked out and grabbed her shoulder, bringing her hard against his chest. “It matters not. You are mine now, and I would claim my prize.”
Louisa closed her eyes as he kissed her possessively. His hand roved over her buttocks, bringing her up against the thick bulge in his tight buckskin breeches. She gasped as he threw her over his shoulder and marched purposefully toward the narrow cot in the corner. She landed on her back and he was on her im
mediately, his hands busy with her laces, stripping her out of her over gown and her bodice to reveal her old-fashioned stays and shift.
He reared over her, his gaze hungry, and produced a knife. Louisa couldn’t help but moan as he cut through the tight lacing of her stays and tossed them to the floor. His mouth descended over her breast, and he caught her nipple and sucked hard. She writhed against him as his fingers tangled in her hair and then lower to tease and taunt her other breast. He shoved one leather-clad knee between her legs, opening her even wider to him.
The silk of her stockings felt too thin against the heat and hardness of his thigh. He moved up, and his knee met her mound and pressed against her most tender flesh. She could do nothing but hold on to any part of him he allowed. Soon her hips moved in rhythm to his urgent suckling, heat built between her legs, and she moaned his name.
“Please.”
He brought his head up and stared down at her. “What do you want, my little minx?”
In the book, this part of the scene had never been very explicit, so Louisa had to find her own words. “You, I want you.”
He arched an eyebrow and whispered, “Aren’t you supposed to make one last desperate bid for escape?”
“Oh, yes!” She shoved at his chest and managed to roll off the bed. “I’d rather drown than become your plaything, sir!”
“You’ll not escape me.” He caught her easily and brought her face down over his lap, pulled up her shift to expose her bare bottom.
Louisa stared down at the floorboards and realized she couldn’t move. “You aren’t really going to …” She gasped as his hand connected with her buttock, and then did it again. She began to grow unpleasantly warm as he alternated his smacks between her cheeks.
Suddenly, his hand slipped lower and slid between the heated wet folds of her sex, teasing and enticing, penetrating and then withdrawing. His palm settled over her most sensitive bud, and he buried two fingers inside her. She shrieked as his other hand descended on her heated buttocks, felt the twin pressure of the pain and the pleasure his hands could bring to her, felt it until they blended together into a blaze of desire that consumed her.
Lords of Passion Page 16