Seduced by an Irresistible Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Henrietta Harding

  “You looked amazed. That’s exactly how I was too,” Dr Frederick said.

  Helena quickly removed the expression from her face. She chided herself for lacking any guile whatsoever.

  “I found out how, though, which could only be meaningless gossip to you. She prescribed that we bring a partner, not obligatory, though. I am asking if you would attend with me,” Dr Frederick said.

  There was a dull pang in the middle of Helena’s chest. Truly, she would have preferred the company of Dr Frederick to that of Lord Jeffrey. But too many factors played in, and they carried more weight than the affectations of the heart.

  “I did hear of Miss Morgana’s ball, but I will not be able to go with you that day, Dr Frederick. I have an appointment that same day,” Helena said.

  She had meant to tell him that she was already to attend with Lord Jeffrey. But when the words were to come out, her courage failed her, and her mouth crafted others. Helena did not look up to meet his gaze. When she did, she saw the disappointment glaring in them.

  “Well, no matter, it is unfortunate that it should be that day. I might as well not attend,” Dr Frederick said.

  “You have not put on your shoes after I finished with your ankle,” Dr Frederick said. It seemed his disappointed downward gaze alerted him to the forgotten accessory.

  Helena looked down at her open toes. She had been so carried away due to Dr Frederick’s nearness. She bent to wear it.

  “No bother, Miss Helena. I helped remove them. I’ll help adorn them again,” he said.

  Dr Frederick got up from the bench and bent in front of her. As he was fitting the shoe back on her foot, there was a powerful gust of wind. It blew hard and wild, throwing both Helena’s gown and petticoat up and revealing her secrets to Dr Frederick. Helena could not see his face, but she felt a definite draft-in-the-aft. She panicked and pulled her dress down against the force of the wind. Her hand hit Dr Frederick on the head as she did so, causing him to yelp.

  “I’m sorry,” Helena said rapidly, pushing the shame of the causal event away for the sympathy for the mortal blow she dealt the man.

  Dr Frederick rubbed his head and looked up to her. There was the twisted expression of pain in his face, but his eyes held something much deeper. There was want that darkened in there. Helena placed her hand on his head, searching for the point she hit. She was not ready for Dr Frederick’s sudden jerk up.

  He placed his hands on her neck and ravaged her mouth. His mouth interlocked with hers, grinding and probing. Helena, shocked, did nothing at first. But the ministrations of his mouth poured life into her and she threw her hands around his neck, drawing him up from his bending position. She held him tight and savoured the taste of his tongue. She drew in his scent, the musky salty scent of a working man. Helena felt his hand run from her neck to her bust. He pressed and squeezed gently, triggering the tip of her breasts to a staunch stiffness. His hands moved as quickly as his tongue, the hands loosening the small ropes of her gown, his tongue poking into her, demanding a duel. Her gown quickly fell off her shoulders. Helena bust was bare but for the shift that stood against Dr Frederick like the stubborn bars of a dungeon. Dr Frederick dropped his kisses from her mouth, trailing down her chin to her neck and up the sides to her ears.

  A soft moan escaped her lips as she used the fingers of one hand to release his buttons from their slit nooses. Her hands explored his chest. Helena was surprised by the hardness of his chest. She had expected a doctor not to be this taut.

  “Your chest, you are well formed, like a labourer,” Helena said in a husky, want-filled voice.

  Dr Frederick smiled. His hands moved to the front hook of her shift and broke the lock. Her breasts escaped into the coolness of the air, their tips dark and erect. Dr Frederick attacked the right nipple with rapid ferociousness. His fingers squeezed and twisted the other. Helena closed her eyes as bolts of pleasure ran from both minute tips, heating up her head. His mouth attacked the other tip, leaving the first one wet and yearning to be covered. Sweetness ran all over her body, choosing to settle at the pit in her cradle. Dr Frederick’s hands strayed back to her legs, up to her knees, and Helena was hot already.

  Her body stilled, her bones stiffened in anticipation of his hand’s continued travel in the same direction. Dr Frederick did not disappoint and steadily, as if drawing an unseen pattern on her skin, wandered up her thighs. His hands navigated past both petticoat and drawers, till he got to the naked centre between her legs. Helena felt fire everywhere his finger trailed. And when he finally got to her, her breath ceased. Her body so stiffened, her heart must have paused. His professional fingers didn’t wander or need for direction. Dr Frederick knew what he was doing. His index and middle fingers moved swiftly, sliding in and out so fast they might as well have not entered, but even that was enough. The abrasion of his fingers against the lips of her cherry had Helena holding the doctor even tighter, pressing her breasts against his chest. Dr Frederick rapidly enveloped his mouth around one taut nipple, nibbling gently on it.

  Helena couldn’t control her whimpering. Her moans, she muffled to gasps. She was desperate to return the favour. Helena moved her hands down into his breeches. She loosened the buckle quickly, setting the apparel on a downward movement. She wrapped her hands around the taut cheeks of his buttocks and savoured the dull push of his member against her naked belly. There was a sharp, sweet pain from her nipple. Dr Frederick had pulled a bit forcibly before returning his mouth to hers. His kiss took away her senses for a while as she attempted to rescue her consciousness against the headiness of his overpowering kiss. Helena, desperate to return to what she was doing, broke the kiss. She wrapped one hand around his erect member. Her hand failed to cover enough of its area as she wanted, so she introduced the second.

  Dr Frederick’s fingers ran back under her skirt, to the opening between her drawers. This time their flicking wasn’t fleeting. Eased by the wetness of her cherry, and the slick nature of her sweet centre, Dr Frederick’s fingers dipped in and out, sliding up and down without respite. Helena, for lack of something else to hold on to, gripped his member tight as his fingers unravelled her. His thumb would intermittently rub on her swollen clit, notching the pangs of pleasure to a peaky crescendo. His two fingers soon became four. No longer satisfied with their sliding motion, he dipped them in and hooked them inside. His hands vibrated at incredible speeds, driving Helena wild with pleasure. She felt an ache in her belly, a pleasure-driven dull banging. Helena held his wrist and eased his hand out. She wanted to pace him, but Dr Frederick had other ideas.

  As she removed his hand, Dr Frederick moved back and pointed his member at her cherry. Helena stared wide eyed at the imposing form of the engorged part.

  This is actually about to happen.

  Helena’s intention rushed back faster than a soldier’s bullet. For all her wild bodily adventures with him, Helena was not ready for the final step. She shook her head and moved backwards. There was a bewildered look in his eyes. He attempted to dip himself in again, and Helena shook her head.

  “Why?” Dr Frederick asked.

  Helena looked away from him and shook her head. She knew he would be disappointed. There was a rush of intense shame that made her draw her gown’s skirt down before buckling her shift. She wore her dress, leaving only the rope behind untied. Dr Frederick’s member had cooled, and on seeing what Helena was doing, was returned back into its sheath inside his breeches.

  Despite her attitude, Dr Frederick wasn’t embittered. He sat beside her and held her hands tight.

  “What is the matter?” he asked.

  Helena shook her head. It wasn’t too much of a big issue, but in her primal yearn for Dr Frederick, Helena hadn’t realised that a union of sexes was the end product. She was reluctant to offer herself to a man she might not marry.

  “Nothing,” Helena replied.

  “So why suffer the sudden change in demeanour?” Dr Frederick asked.

  Helena shook her head again. I
t was not a matter she would discuss with him.

  “I wasn’t ready,” she timidly said.

  “Weren’t ready? You weren’t ready for – Oh!” Dr Frederick exclaimed.

  He nodded and wrapped his hands around her, locking them just below her bust.

  “I understand,” he said gently into her ears.

  There was an intense rushing of admiration for him when he said that. Helena looked into his eyes and only saw a genuine smile.

  I wish things were so different. I would have given myself up to you.

  She rested her head on his chest, its sturdiness reminding her of her surprising discovery.

  “For a doctor, you have hard and lean muscles. To what exercises do you owe your fitness?” Helena asked him.

  Dr Frederick grinned. Helena looked up and saw his familiar easy smile on his face.

  “It’s too much of a long story. I wouldn’t want to bore you with it,” Dr Frederick replied.

  “Tell it to me. We have time,” Helena replied, totally lacking confidence in her outburst.

  Justina will start searching for me anytime now.

  Helena wished she could spend the rest of the day with Dr Frederick. She couldn’t, and she knew it, so she decided it was better to know the man than discuss frivolous issues that lacked true tangibility.

  “I mentioned once to you that my father was a trader in Bolton. Well, he always was and not on the large scale. My parents were barely able to cater for me when I was growing up. It wasn’t a fault of theirs, making an honest living could be tortuous for all of us. I showed a flair for the medical profession from my childhood. I was first an apothecary, learning the trade under a friend of my father and then seeing a chance and seizing it to be Dr Terry Agar’s dresser. When Dr Terry was employed to be a physician trainer at the College of Medicine at London, he helped to get me admitted. I became his student. From then till now is an unremarkable story you can write with minimum creative skills, nothing of note happened. Nothing of note till I met you, though,” Dr Frederick said.

  Helena blushed at his flattery.

  “So you came to develop these muscles during your time in college,” she said.

  “I had to serve as a labourer at construction sites around the college. Those were unpalatable times, but they do add to my history,” Dr Frederick said.

  He rubbed his eyes, pressing his lids in with two of the fingers on his right hand. His voice sounded far deeper when he spoke again. Helena could tell he was struggling to control his emotions.

  “My father got ill during that time, and the little he made was spent on him. I had to depend on what my hands could provide and the occasional monetary gift from Dr Terry. This is why I chose to remain under Dr Terry even after finishing my medical education,” Dr Frederick said.

  His eyes shone with a watery gleam. He couldn’t meet Helena’s gaze. Helena raised her head from his chest and placed her hands by the side of his face. She felt the sharp bristles of young hair follicles under her palm. When Dr Frederick managed to look down into her eyes, Helena saw so much pain she felt an intimate hurt inside. Her gaze fell to the fullness of his lips and their fine edges. Helena drew her mouth to his and kissed him again.

  The kiss wasn’t hot or wanting. It wasn’t an attempt to take over the other person’s oral orifice. The kiss was a channel of shared emotions. Helena felt his hand fall to her side and pull her even closer to him. His mouth shifted to the side, allowing her more ease to anchor her tongue to his. Helena could feel the steady beat of his heart, matching hers. His breath became her breath. Only the poke from his resurrected member could shake her from the trance she was in, and it did. Helena broke the kiss, but her eyes could not leave Dr Frederick’s swollen lips. There was, in them, hunger unabated.

  “My greatest want would be that you’d be suddenly unencumbered the day Miss Morgana’s ball holds. I wish you would allow me to chaperone you,” Dr Frederick said.

  Helena remembered Lord Jeffrey as Dr Frederick said that. A great conflict struck her. It looked mighty sure that Lord Jeffrey would ask her to marry him. And she was going to say yes. So what was she doing here with Dr Frederick? Where would this lead? She was tempted to look at him but kept her gaze down.

  Yes, my heart wants for him. My body is a blacksmith’s kiln when he’s near. But duty calls.

  Helena bit down on her lip. She had to end this.

  “I think it is about time we returned. Your statement about the ball was a saving grace. It revived my sleeping mind that I do have some accounting to finish on father’s behalf,” Helena said.

  Dr Frederick’s expression was plain. Nothing could be read. He stood up and aided Helena up. Saying nothing, Helena led him back to the courtyard from the extreme parts of the Baron’s garden that they were in. When they got to the courtyard, Dr Frederick signalled to a steward to bring his horse. Miss Justina appeared at the top of the stairs. Helena could not tell from where.

  “Thank you, Miss Helena, for an unforgettable day,” Dr Frederick said rapidly and at lowered tones so no one else heard.

  Helena looked into his eyes and noted steel that was totally absent in the garden. She wondered what Dr Frederick could be thinking to make him so disturbed.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Helena replied as Miss Justina was already within earshot.

  The steward brought the horse to Dr Frederick who mounted and with a rearing up, rode the horse off at a pace incredible for the beginning of a ride.

  It wasn’t a steely look, it was anger. What could be the source for his whimsical change?

  “How’s your foot?” Miss Justina asked.

  “I wish my foot was the problem,” Helena said, watching the doctor ride off with his black box bouncing by the horse’s side.

  Chapter 16

  Morgana’s Ball

  Dr Frederick looked at his image once again in the mirror. He placed his hand on the golden edges of his grey shirt. He had lost count of how many times he had unbuttoned the shirt only to have it buttoned again. He was as confused as he had ever been in a long while. It was rude and out of place to reply that one would attend a private ball and then miss it without a cogent reason, but Dr Frederick had lost the drive to attend. At the back of his mind lay Miss Helena when he asked Mister Frank to send a reply accepting the invitation. And now that she was not going to be attending, Dr Frederick had lost all impetus to attend the ball. He shook the doubt away with a shake of his head and picked up the black jacket on the bed behind him.

  One can never tell the next moment. I could very well meet another lady just as endearing as Miss Helena.

  Dr Frederick thought about what he would do if he stayed. His research had come to a halt for the past two weeks. He had tried the extract on the hearts of two dogs without getting the desired response.

  They still died, without a fight.

  He had been unable to detect the same hormone in the human body also, after weeks of intensive experimentation.

  “Sometimes, the closer you are, the less you see,” Dr Terry Agar used to say.

  So he decided to ease off the research for a while.

  I am probably too close to properly see.

  His door opened gently, and Mister Frank stuck in his head.

  “Sir, the coach is now ready,” Mister Frank said.

  Dr Frederick nodded his acknowledgement. He wore the jacket and straightened it against his shirt. His breeches were black. On gauging himself in the mirror, Dr Frederick was pleased. He did look rather handsome. Dr Frederick, contented with his appearance for the outing, walked out of his room. He looked at the arrangement of his reading room and walked past, satisfied with its neatness.

  Dr Frederick went into the coach and tapped Mister Frank at the back. Mister Frank, who served as the coach driver, tapped the horses with his stick. The trip to Miss Morgana’s ball started. Dr Frederick busied himself with practice of what to say and how to appropriately ask a lady to dance if not given a partner by the master of cere
monies. His imagination worked hard enough that it seemed no more like a few moments later when Mister Frank told him they were almost there.

  “Already?” Dr Frederick asked.

  “Yes sir, it’s not so distant from our house, just about forty-five minutes away with a good horse and a carriage with sound wheels. It would have taken me less than half an hour if you were in a rush,” Mister Frank said.

  Dr Frederick saw many vehicles at the sides of the house. It was a big house, so big that Dr Frederick wondered if Miss Morgana owned it.

  “Frank, do you have an idea of who owns this house in which the party is holding?”

  “No sir, I am not privy to information of that sort. I do suspect, just as I think you also do, that Miss Morgana couldn’t possibly own such a gigantic structure. It’s probably one of her many lovers, I presume,” Mister Frank said.