The Revolutionary Mistress

by Leia Rice

  “What do you say to keeping her? It’s been a long time since we shared a mutual conquest, brother.” Rene left his spent cock to hang outside his breeches and it settled heavily against his leg.

  Lefey rocked back and forth, meeting Mariette’s bouncing with his own panicked thrusts. He pulled Mariette back up so her back brushed his chest and she was completely vertical. “I…I think that is a good idea. We leave this damn country…and take her with us.”

  Rene pressed his mouth to Mariette’s and she shared the taste of his sex within the kiss. When the kiss parted, she begged for the first time through her wonderful ordeal. “Please…please…”

  “Mmm.” Rene pinched her clit in response, which caused Mariette to press back against Lefey. His finger started a vigorous routine of circling her clit, moistening it with her sweet juices. First, it started slowly, but then he quickened, relentlessly circling the swollen, rosy button.

  No longer able to contain herself, Mariette’s orgasm came reeling forth and she would have fallen forward if it weren’t for Lefey’s grip on her arms. As she came, he thrust two or three more times, pushing himself so far into her she thought she’d burst from his cock alone. The wonderful mixture of euphoria and that completeness that comes when being filled to the hilt with a man made Mariette feel dizzy and she loudly screamed out in pleasure.

  Rene kissed Mariette again, helping to bring her down from the wonderful crest that she floated upon. She moaned in his mouth over and over again until finally, Lefey withdrew out of her. “Then it is settled. You will come with us. You have nothing here anyway, and a girl such as you should not be servicing men in the back room of a tavern.”

  Lefey gave his cock a good shake as he walked in front of Mariette and beside his brother. Offering a hand to the woman, he helped her to shakily get to her feet. “Are you a revolutionary?”

  Mariette still felt dizzy. She brushed the palms of her hands down her black dress, curls flopping in front of her face, no longer pinned back. After she got her dress in order, she tried to work at smoothing the curls down. She knew she looked a mess now. “I am, my lord. Well… Sebastian makes me be a revolutionary.”

  “But what do you call yourself?” Rene laced his pants back up. The two of them, side by side, looked as if nothing had happened. As if no ménage à trois took place.

  “I do not call myself anything one way or another. I just wish to keep a roof over my head and live. What the Royalists and Revolutionaries want to do is their own problem.” Mariette gave up on her hair. “What do you mean that I will come with you?”

  “You will see, my dear. For now, straighten yourself up and just know you are in good hands.” Lefey gave Rene a knowing, sly look at his double entendre.

  Rene laughed as he pressed a kiss to Mariette’s cheek. “We will take good care of you, and all you need to worry about is being your pretty little self and keeping us sated and happy. Do you think you can do that?”

  Mariette’s gaze went back to these two men. She was supposed to come in here and steal Lefey’s money. She was supposed to walk out of here, straight back to Sebastian, and give him the loot to fund his next attack, or to bribe officials, nobles or guards. Now she’d be leaving on the arms of two of the most prominent nobles, who apparently had plans to flee the country. They were so very handsome, but God, did she need a way out of here. “I’ll do whatever you’d like, my lords.”

  Rene and Lefey smiled the same smile, then opened the library door to join the masquerade once more.

  As Mariette left the library, a throng of guests ran past her, screaming about an intrusion. “Get out! Get out!”

  Rene and Lefey stepped out a moment after her, as they had planned to do so that it wouldn’t look too suspicious. Lefey pulled on his belt to tighten it, though his brows lowered in concern at the stampede of guests fleeing from the adjoining rooms. “What is this about? Boy!” He called over to a pageboy who had apparently wet himself.

  The boy froze in place, clearly embarrassed. “My lord?”

  “What is happening?”

  A crash and more screaming filled the greeting room. The last few people to run out of it were covered in blood and soot. Mariette noticed the glow of a fire, and soon the heat from the flames seeped into the ballroom. “A fire, my lords.”

  Rene stepped closer to Mariette; she could feel his breath on the back of her neck as a hand curled around her waist and he began to yank her toward the exit. “It must be Sebastian and his men.” A scowl replaced his otherwise angelic features. “This is not the way to freedom.”

  “Come on, Rene.” Lefey tugged his arm, which tugged Mariette in return. “Now is not the time to debate how to be a good or bad revolutionary. If we do not leave right now, we will be dead revolutionaries.” No longer did Lefey hide their secret. No one listened anymore anyway.

  Mariette laced her fingers with Rene’s and felt much safer by his side. She regretted having tried to seduce Lefey to steal his money for Sebastian. Now these men were trying to save her. Moments ago, they were trying to see how many of her orifices they could fill at once.

  The three of them joined the rest of the guests as they trampled over each other and the fallen masks on the floor. Women were screaming, windows were breaking and the fire from the greeting room grew uncontrollably. Then Mariette saw him. Sebastian, seemingly stepping out from the flames, unscathed, pistol drawn, sword at his side. If he wasn’t such a monster, Mariette might have found him to be terribly handsome in this moment.

  It was only a moment, though, and it was stolen as soon as the mob rose from behind him and started for the ballroom, knocking over tables, cutting cushions until their stuffing spilled onto the ground, slaying any straggler left behind. The scene turned terrible very quickly.

  “Mon Dieu,” Mariette whispered and turned a corner to run down a narrow hall with Rene and Lefey. She couldn’t help but look back over her shoulder often, which garnered a chastising from Rene.

  “Mariette. Hurry. The carriage will not wait for us forever.”

  Lefey snorted as he threw a door open, gesturing for the couple to duck inside. “If the carriage is even there, still.”

  “Mariette!”

  Her name rang down the hallway, the way a master would call to his dog.

  Mariette tensed, hesitating in her step. “It’s Sebastian. He has found us!”

  “The hell he has.” Lefey lifted a thick, leather-bound book from a side table and threw it through a tall, French window. The glass shattered and fell to the floor like a million broken icicles. He used an arm to shield his face, and when the sound of the breaking glass ended, he peeked over his elbow and kicked the rest of the window apart. “Through here. Hurry up!”

  But it was too late. Sebastian threw open the door, bloody saber in hand. “Unhand her!”

  Rene whispered against my ear, “He thinks he has come to save you.”

  Mariette’s eyes widened at the crimson blood drops that ran down the blade of Sebastian’s sword like liquid silk. Her subtle motion of stepping back to press herself against Rene for safety spoke volumes to Sebastian, whose face contorted into a scowl.

  “You whore! You were working for them all along!”

  Rene tried to push her toward the window, where Lefey waited, hand outstretched. In the same, fluid motion, he grabbed a scabbard off the nearby wall. When he unsheathed it, the decorative silver flashed, and the sweet song of a readied blade played through the air.

  Another explosion rocked the mansion. People still screamed down the hallways, unaware of Mariette’s plight inside the spare room. She could feel a knot forming in her throat when Rene stepped forward and began to fight off Sebastian. “Go, Mariette! Go!”

  “No, Rene! I need you!”

  Lefey’s hand circled Mariette’s delicate arm and he tugged her through the window and against his sweaty tunic. “Rene is good with his real sword too, mademoiselle.” He didn’t give her time to question the validity of the statement. Instead
, he stole her off in the same direction that the crowds fled, across the cobblestone courtyard.

  Mariette’s heart beat too fast. She looked back at the broken window she’d just fled from and wished that she could still see Rene…or at least that she could have said farewell. From a distance, the complete destruction of the mansion became evident. Lefey’s home danced in the firelight as flames rose above the building, engulfing some parts and leaving other parts unscathed. Bodies littered the courtyard, some of which still twitched, reaching out for help. “Your home…”

  “It is just a house, my lady Mariette. I can build another.” Lefey urged her forward, his hand on the small of her back. “Come.”

  She spun back around, her little feet aching as she quickened her pace in an effort to keep up with Lefey. She noticed now that her beautiful dress, the dress Sebastian purchased for her elaborate scam, was torn at the hem and covered in smudges of soot and blood. When did she get blood on her?

  A carriage waited down an alley off the main courtyard. The horses were rearing, restless at the commotion, and Mariette swore that had the driver been an untrained man, he too would be rearing. “Hurry, my lord! The streets are filling quickly. The French army is making its way here.”

  “Ugh.” Lefey lifted Mariette into the carriage, hands around her waist, much as he’d lifted her onto his cock just moments before the insurgency. “Now my home is doubly soiled.” He climbed in after her, sitting by her side. “Go.”

  “Go?” Mariette gasped and leaned toward the window. “We cannot leave Rene!”

  “We must.” He tugged Mariette back down into his lap and pressed a reassuring kiss to her cheek. “Don’t worry. He’ll make it.”

  She had no time to protest. The carriage pulled off, racing down the dirty streets of Paris and away from the Lefey mansion. Mariette’s heart twisted, and as if Lefey knew the same feeling, he cradled her hands in his reassuringly and neither of them spoke another word.

  When the day broke, Mariette stretched her arms over her head and her spine cracked. They’d spent all night sleeping in the carriage in a nearby village. All of the inns were filled, as was to be expected. With riots sprouting up like weeds in Paris, people had been fleeing toward the English Channel in hopes of crossing into safer territory.

  She looked to Lefey, who still slept, his head resting against the inside of the carriage, one arm protectively wrapped around Mariette’s shoulder. He yawned loudly, stirring at her awakening, lids fluttering open. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Mariette leaned forward to brush some of his hair from his face. “Rene is still not here.”

  “You will have to learn to trust me, ma chérie, when I tell you that he will show.” Lefey carefully sat up and slipped out of the carriage, yawning again as he pushed his hands behind his back and popped his knuckles. “We have another day of traveling, then we should be there. One man on a horse moves must faster than two horses and three men in a carriage.”

  Mariette spared a nervous smile. Her fingers lifted to her hair, where she found sloppy, fallen curls. She used her hands like a comb and tried to rid herself of the knots as Lefey paced around the carriage in thought.

  He stopped in front of her and smiled devilishly. Despite losing his home and possibly a brother, he still looked painfully handsome, and something fluttered inside Mariette’s stomach. “We should get you a wig when we get to London. What do you think?”

  “London?” Mariette lowered her hands, stunned. “We are going to London?”

  Lefey laughed and reached out to cradle her cheek in his hand. “We are. Rene and I own an estate there too. One much bigger and ornate than the one you saw last night.”

  The flutter tickled her insides again and she self-consciously patted her frizzy curls. “Wigs are expensive, my lord.”

  “Mmm. Don’t ‘my lord’ me, Mariette. You are ours now. Our lady Mariette.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against her own. His mouth opened hers and his tongue slipped into the space in between. When the kiss broke, he grinned again and nipped at her lower lip. “We will spoil you as we please.”

  It took the whole day, just as Lefey said it would. Mariette’s rear end hurt from the bumpy ride. She could not be more relieved to slip out of the carriage and onto the dock where a large ferry waited to be boarded. There were hundreds of people lined up on the docks waiting to get into the public ship. Some had luggage upon luggage and others carried only what they could bring.

  “Will we get in?” Mariette said worriedly, since she could feel the obvious tension generated by the uncertainty of who would make it onto the ferry and who wouldn’t. There was also the fact that both revolutionaries and Royalists were gathered in the same place waiting to get out of the same situation.

  Lefey wandered off without answering Mariette, leaving her back with the driver and their carriage. She studied the people and their faces, desperately searching for her Rene. The task started to feel impossible, when she finally came across a familiar face.

  Jean.

  “Jean?” Mariette called across the docks and started in his direction. The bartender stood with his wife and children, all of whom were carrying a sack of their belongings. “Jean!”

  Jean glanced up, and when his glance met hers, he started in Mariette’s direction, arms outstretched. “Mariette! You made it!” They embraced and the sight of them must have been quite peculiar to watch. She looked as if she had marched through a battle herself, and Jean stood in what looked to be his nightclothes. “I thought I would never see you again after the rumors about Sebastian’s mission.”

  “No need to worry now. Lord Lefey is bringing me to London. He saved me from the estate when Sebastian came to attack it.” Mariette hugged Jean again, sparing a wave over his shoulder for his large family. “I am so happy to see you. How did you get here?”

  “That man. The one who came to the tavern that you took a fancy to?” Jean let go of Mariette, reaching forward to brush a smudge off her cheek. “He saw us on the street with the rest of the fleeing people and told us where to go. And he gave us enough money to get over the channel to safety. Even said he had a job lined up for me.”

  Mariette’s heart skipped a beat. “Rene? You mean, you saw Rene?”

  “Yes, Rene. That was it. Lord Rene.” Jean pulled out a small pouch of coins to show Mariette. The pouch was red and velvet with the fleur-de-lys stitched all over it. “There he is. Right there.” He pointed over Mariette’s shoulder and toward the edge of the dock.

  When she turned, she saw Rene walking beside Lefey, both of them staring intently at her as they approached. She stirred and under her costume gown, her nipples hardened at the sight of them together. “Rene!”

  Mariette broke into a run toward both of the men, and when she got to them, Rene scooped her up into an embrace and kissed her fully on the mouth. Everything around her became so far away, as if the docks had fallen out from under her and she floated, no longer grounded. Lefey laughed when Rene spun her around and set her feet safely back on the wooden boards.

  “I think now we have everything we need to board, don’t we?” Rene’s eyes flickered to Lefey, who still laughed, responding only with a nod. Rene lifted Mariette’s chin with a crooked finger under her jaw. “Are you ready to learn how to be an Englishwoman now, my Mariette?”

  “I’ll be anything for you.” Mariette replied softly, gazing from Rene to Lefey. “And you.”

  Lefey pulled a cigar from a box inside his inner pocket, clipped the end, lit it, then puffed on it in thought. Circles of dark smoke formed rings when he puffed out the fragrant fog that added to the dreary weather. The ferry’s bell rang, announcing the time for boarding.

  Rene guided Mariette toward the boat, slightly behind Jean and his family. As she walked to the ferry, she looked back at Lefey and caught him smile and wink at her as he briskly walked to catch up, falling alongside both she and Rene.

  “Anything?” Lefey dipped his chin downward to see her. Rene looked
at Mariette as well, waiting for her answer.

  Mariette laughed, hips swinging as they languidly approached the ferry to their new beginnings. “Anything.”

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  ISBN: 978-1-4592-2015-7

  The Revolutionary Mistress

  Copyright © 2012 by Leia Rice

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