“I’ll walk you back,” he told her quietly.
She nodded.
Slowly they walked back to the chateau, each deep in their own thoughts. For the first time Sophie contemplated marriage. Sebastian had opened up a world of pleasure and passion and she wanted to experience it. As a well-bred woman, only marriage would suffice. She must speak to her father.
Sebastian, on the other hand, was in misery. She would have no trouble finding suitors. She was lovely and her father had money, so she would be married soon. But this thought pained him. He would never want her with someone else.
The chateau was quiet, though voices could be heard here and there as they entered the marble foyer.
“Good afternoon,” Sophie said as she left Sebastian and made her way upstairs to her room.
He watched her briefly before making his way into the salon to pour himself a drink. Whiskey was the drink of choice and he downed one glass and then another.
“A little bit early for that.” Madame Necker spoke from a corner chair, where she was reading.
“Perhaps. Would you care to join me?”
Madame Necker smiled. “No, thank you.”
He poured himself a third and took the chair opposite her. He was deep in thought but Madame Necker recognized all the symptoms.
“She’s very beautiful.”
“She is.”
“And intelligent. This is rare in a woman.”
“It is.”
“Only a certain type of man will be able to truly appreciate her. Most won’t understand her. And some may try to break her spirit.”
“I agree entirely,” he said, staring into his glass.
“She won’t be a mistress, though.”
“No, she won’t.”
“And you won’t marry.”
“I never thought I would marry, yet she’s something so different. So elusive and feminine. Innocent yet educated.”
Suzanne smiled. Sebastian was in love. “You have time. She is not married yet. She is not even engaged.”
Sebastian nodded. He took a deep breath. No, she was not married or engaged. Yet.
Chapter 14
That final evening at the chateau progressed without the Comte de Buffon. He had departed as his cold had worsened and he wanted to be home to recuperate. Messieurs Marmontel and La Harpe had left as well, so the meal was subdued and quiet, with little lively conversation.
Leila pleaded a headache and retired early, for which Etienne was extremely grateful. Eugenie and Suzanne sat by the fire sipping sherry while Sebastian and Sophie played a game of chess. Etienne browsed the library shelves before he returned to a large chair with his brandy.
“Our last night together,” Sophie said, simply contemplating her next move.
“Shall we retire for the evening? I have many things I’d like to teach you upstairs.” Sebastian watched her move her knight.
Sophie laughed. “Playing the husband when it suits you.”
He leaned forward. “I’ve decided I like you best in the linen shift,” he moved and captured her knight, “or nothing at all.”
“Nothing at all? I’ll catch cold.”
“I’ll keep you very warm.”
She shook her head and smiled at the playful flirting. “Which half of you owns that silver tongue of yours?”
“The lower half.”
She blushed and turned to look at her grandmother. She was nodding off in her chair and Suzanne was reading. They were on the other side of the room and could not possibly hear the conversation.
“The lower half? Your knees?”
“A little higher.”
“Thighs?”
“Higher.”
“Stomach.”
“Exactly,” he said.
Sophie captured his bishop and Sebastian was taken off-guard.
“Flirting to win?” he said, amazed.
“I do what it takes.” She purposely pressed against the table, causing her breasts to swell above the neckline and Sebastian’s eyes to dilate.
“Your move,” he said.
She made a reckless move and lost her bishop to him.
“I liked it better when you were flirting,” he said lowly.
“It was silly of me.” She said, contrite.
“No. It’s just that the logical end cannot be, so why pursue it?”
“Logical end?”
“You on your back with something thick inside you.”
Sophie blushed darkly.
“Checkmate,” Sebastian said.
“Excuse me.” She left the table.
Sebastian watched her mix with Madame Necker, and he asked Etienne to join him for a game of billiards.
***
Later that evening, Etienne went into his room, locking the door as he went. He stripped naked and flopped into bed. He was not tired, just irritated. He had been teased by that little virgin and needed relief.
He would have to visit Juliette’s brothel when he returned to Paris. He would be sure to ask for a brown haired, blue-eyed beauty. One who looked like Leila, with sweet feminine curves and luscious lips.
He felt his cock swell and harden and he almost groaned. It had been almost an hour since he had returned to his room when he felt the bed shift with the weight of another person.
The light was so low from the fireplace that he had to adjust his eyes to the darkness. He saw the shimmering dark hair around her and the temptress smile.
“Leila?” he asked, confused.
“Yes, my darling.”
She was sleek and naked and he was sure this was a dream.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
She had planned it perfectly. She had excused herself from the dinner with a headache and had gone upstairs. Once upstairs, she had changed into a simple shift, combed her hair and perfumed herself.
Then she had slipped into Etienne’s room and hidden herself away in the armoire until he had fallen asleep. She knew that sleep and the wine would make him agreeable.
“You have?” Etienne was confused.
He had locked the door. He remembered doing it, so this was a dream. A very real dream.
She was kissing his neck, his mouth and chest. It was an erotic dream. She was slender and suddenly on top of him. Straddling him, she smiled down at him while that dark brown hair was tumbling down her shoulders and back. He moved his hands along her thighs, hips, waist and breasts. She was delicious.
“Leila.” He breathed out the name.
“I’m here. I’m yours,” she whispered into his ear.
Her breasts were in his hands and he was so hard. He was rock hard and wanted the slippery wetness that she could give him. He bucked his hips against hers.
She put one small hand around his cock and moved up and down the shaft.
“Oh, god. Leila.”
“My darling Etienne.”
She put her mouth to the tip of the shaft and felt him buck against her. Jesus, he thought.
Leila smiled. She had complete power over him. He was hers. She felt the wetness between her thighs and knew it would be all right. He would take her virginity. This was right. This was the way it was supposed to be.
She wanted to straddle him but she also wanted him to be on top. She wanted him to be in control. Would he do it?
She moved to lie next to him sighing into him. “I’m yours, Etienne. Only yours.”
He was covering her body with his in one quick movement. He pressed her legs apart and had one hand at his cock to press into the hot, wet pussy. Oh god, he thought. So tight, so tight. Like a virgin, he thought. Like a sweet virgin.
Then he felt the thin membrane and pressed into her more. As the membrane ripped, Leila only cried out once, biting into his shoulder.
“Leila. Shhh,” he soothed her. “I’m sorry.”
She closed her eyes tightly against the pain and then he was moving in and out of her at a pleasure-seeking pace. For Leila, the pain was gone, replaced by an intense pleasu
re. This is what she had wanted. This is what she knew was there and had been seeking. Pleasure upon pleasure. Leila bit her bottom lip as the waves rolled over her, and she shuddered.
Etienne felt the tightness pulse around his cock as he moved in and out, bracing his weight above her with his forearms. It felt so good. So tight and perfect. He climaxed, emptying his seed inside her. He kissed her lips and covered her body with his arm as she snuggled next to him.
Leila smiled like a sated cat. She was a virgin no more and Etienne was hers.
***
Leila was the first to wake. She saw the light streaming through the window and saw Etienne lying beside her.
She was not entirely ashamed of herself but she did see her blood staining the sheets. She smiled again and pulled on her linen shift. She felt a slight soreness between her legs but it didn’t bother her.
In fact, she wanted him again. Now. She removed the shift from her body and let it fall to the floor. She moved her naked body against his and let her hand fall against his hard cock. He would want her this morning.
Etienne felt a hand against him and groaned. He wanted her again. Not just in an erotic fantasy, but in real life.
When he opened his eyes and saw the light in the room and the brown-haired beauty smiling at him, he almost cried out.
“Leila!?”
“Yes, Etienne?”
“My god, what have you done?”
She smiled. “What have we done. I didn’t do it alone.”
“Oh my god. Last night.”
“Yes.”
Jesus, he thought. He moved away from the bed naked, throwing the bedclothes back. He saw the red stain and closed his eyes.
“Last night.”
“Yes.”
“I took your virginity.”
“Yes, thank you. You were wonderful.” She was sitting up in bed, smiling.
“My god.” He came to her, grabbing her slim arms in his hands. “This isn’t a game, Leila.”
“I know that,” she said.
“You don’t. Now I need to approach your brother as the honorable thing. We’ll duel. And then if I survive, we marry.”
“Nonsense.” Leila looked so delicious fresh from sleep. “I wanted my virginity gone and I wanted you to have it.”
Etienne shook his head as she moved away.
She shrugged. “No one need know.”
Though Leila was in love with Etienne, she wanted him to come to her. She wanted him to want her as his equal and wife.
“No, Leila. That’s not how these things work.”
Leila smiled and came to him. “Hmmm.” She saw him harden and ran her hand down his length, encircling him with her fingers. “How does it work?”
Etienne groaned. “Leila. I need to approach your brother. We need to marry.”
Leila laughed. “Marry?” She settled on the bed and placed a finger between her thighs. “I don’t think so.”
Etienne watched as the demon girl pressed her finger through the tight pussy curls. She began to finger herself. He closed his eyes. When he opened them she was licking one small finger.
Fuck. He was fighting a losing battle. Why bother. He threw himself on top of her, stuffing her wet pussy almost immediately with his thick cock.
“Oh,” she moaned in his ear, moving her legs around his waist. “Harder. Harder.” She raked her nails across his back.
***
Sebastian and Sophie were alone in the dining room with a simple breakfast of fruit, bread and tea. She had chosen several slices of fruit, bread and butter and tea while Sebastian had only tea.
He sipped it thoughtfully as he eyed Sophie. “I don’t suppose I will see much of you in Paris.”
“No, I imagine not. Though my father and I are both fond of music. We attend many concerts.”
“Yes, I enjoy music as well.”
She was quiet, and then spoke softly. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Nothing.” He heard voices in the hallway and knew others would join them shortly. His hand covered hers. “Just remember what I said about the pamphlet.”
“I will. Thank you for being concerned.”
I am more than concerned, he thought. I am worried for your safety. I am worried for you. But he said nothing and removed his hand and nodded as Eugenie, Suzanne and Germaine joined them for breakfast.
***
After a warm goodbye to Suzanne and Germaine, Eugenie and Sophie left the chateau. Sophie had briefly glanced at Sebastian but he had turned away. It was foolish anyway to look for a token of affection, she thought. He had a concern for her welfare regarding the revolutionary pamphlet but other than a body to warm his bed, she knew she meant nothing to him.
She decided to speak to her father at the first opportunity to let him know she was willing to allow her grandmother and father to make inquiries about a match. She would not have many requirements. She did not want anyone older than her father and he must be educated. He must be kind and not be concerned that she was educated.
***
Sophie’s grandmother had many friends and her network of women would help ensure that someone would find a groom with the right requirements. Equally, her father’s colleagues at the Ferme générale would also guarantee there might be men of his acquaintance who would want Sophie as their bride.
She knew her father worked with a man who had recently lost his wife in the past year. He had two young sons and seemed giving. His name was Marc, and a few evenings after the two women returned from the Neckers’ chateau, Sophie’s father placed the name before her.
“He lost his wife this past year,” he confirmed.
Sophie nodded as her father sat before the fire, book in hand. “Do you like him? Is he a good man, Father?”
“Good enough, Sophie. I still don’t understand this rapid transformation. Did something happen at the chateau? I mean besides your grandmother almost being ravished by the duke.” Jean Pierre had heard the rather entertaining story several times from his mother when she was having tea with her friends.
The story had become more and more embellished as time progressed and he rather thought his mother enjoyed the attention. Whether the duke had the same fondness for the story he doubted. Jean Pierre had the strong sense that the duke never told a soul about the encounter with an old French woman who had hit him and called him a rapist in a country chateau.
“She wasn’t ravished. It was a simple mistake. And the duke was hit by her.” She moved along the back of her father’s chair, touching the supple leather.
“There’s no transformation, Father,” she continued. “I think more an understanding. I’m getting older, and if I want a husband and children I must look now.”
“I agree, Sophie, and I am more than happy to hear of this change of heart. I want nothing more than your happiness.” He patted her hand.
“I know that. You have been generous and considerate.”
“I’m quite certain that you will not have a shortage of suitors. I’m sure they will flock to you.”
Sophie smiled. “Flock?” She laughed. “You should have come with us to the chateau. Madame Necker surrounds herself with so many interesting people.”
“Yes, I’m sure they were. That Madame Necker includes you in her circle says much about you, my dear.”
“She is fascinating. I enjoy our conversations.”
Jean Pierre closed his book and stood. “I’m off to bed. Good night.” He kissed Sophie’s forehead lightly.
“Good night.”
***
Eugenie wasted no time in trying to match her granddaughter with prospective suitors. Sophie was delighted at first and then became exhausted. The rounds of eligible men in Paris were not lacking, but many of them did seem to be more dandified than she would have liked.
Sophie asked her grandmother to look for men a little older than her and she complied. Eugenie also wanted to have a private ball in her honor, and Sophie was delighted. She looked fo
rward to making the arrangements with her grandmother.
In the meantime she continued to attend concerts with her grandmother, father and Lizette. At one concert she had been enjoying herself and went outside at the intermission. Her heart thudded inside her chest when she saw Sebastian and his sister at the concert. But when the dark-haired beauty turned, Sophie saw it was not Leila. It was an older woman in a maroon colored gown with a beauty mark on her cheek and powdered hair.
Lizette saw Sophie look in the direction and she quizzed her.
“An acquaintance,” she murmured.
“He’s very handsome.”
“He’s secretary to the Duke of Dorset.”
“Ah, the duke. Your conquest.”
“Hardly, Lizette.” She smiled, but the smile was forced.
Sebastian came towards them and Sophie groaned inwardly. She didn’t want to see him. Not tonight. But she would not be rude either.
“How are you, mademoiselle?”
“Very well, thank you. My friend, Lizette. Lizette Robidoux, Sebastian Fairfax.”
“Monsieur.” Lizette pinkened as Sebastian kissed the back of her hand.
He introduced his guest as Juliette and the woman nodded coolly to both ladies.
“Have you missed the chateau? Those long walks along the river?” Sebastian asked politely.
“Yes. The pleasure of those walks in the cool shade of the trees was enjoyable,” she admitted.
Lizette had moved away and Juliette had excused herself as well.
“Surely not the only pleasure you had?” he asked quietly.
Sophie watched his dark eyes under the candlelight of the chandelier. “I recall no other.”
“I’m wounded. I must work to reinstate your memory.” Sophie knew he was teasing her and shook her head in a small smile.
“How is your sister?”
“Leila is doing well. I think Paris quite agrees with her.”
“She’s lovely and young. Of course Paris would agree with her. In fact, I almost thought Juliette was Leila from the back,” she admitted.
Sebastian nodded. The dark hair. “No. Leila could not attend.”
“And Juliette? Such a beauty.”
Sebastian smiled. “She’s a friend.”
“Is that what they call it?” The jealousy coiled inside her. “Excuse me.”
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