‘Will that be all, Madam Lenore?’ The girl looked at her shyly, clearly not wanting to intrude on the intimacy the two of them so plainly shared.
‘Yes, Eleanor, thank you,’ she said, nodding to the slender, dark-haired girl, and Eleanor nodded in return, bowing her head and retreating from the room. As soon as the door had clicked shut behind her, his hand returned to her thigh again, squeezing lightly.
‘Oh Lenore,’ he murmured as she blushed.
She should pretend to play a little coy, at least.
‘Would you like something to drink?’ She looked at him demurely, trying to ignore the fact that her heart was pounding out of her chest with want for him. Swooping in, he ignored the question, crushing his lips to hers with such passion that she gave a little strangled cry as his hands clasped her to him. Returning the kiss with a ferocity she didn’t know she even possessed, she moaned against his mouth as she felt his thick fingers unlace her bodice.
‘I can’t, not here,’ she made to protest. He broke off then, looking shamefacedly at her.
‘I … I am sorry,’ he said, looking truly apologetic.
No, what had she done? She had only meant to play a little coy.
‘I tried to be a gentleman, truly,’ he said, looking at her sincerely, ‘even though the whole night I have thought of nothing but pushing up your skirts and claiming your beautiful body for my own. But now – now I find I am weakened by you …’ He tailed off, looking at her helplessly.
He looked so utterly dejected sitting there that she could not help but feel sorry for him. Attempting to comfort him, she placed her hand on his arm, squeezing the thick cord of his biceps through the velvet jacket he wore.
‘James, I only meant perhaps we should find a private room –’
‘No.’ He shook his head adamantly. ‘I should have gone home as I planned to. You were right, Lenore, the words you said to me in the carriage after the visit to my mother and father’s house.’
‘Right, what do you mean, right?’ She looked at him, bewildered.
‘I am a cad,’ he insisted fiercely, ‘for I would have you now if it were not for –’
She interrupted, smiling slyly at him from under the sooty sweep of her eyelashes.
‘Not for what? I see no one to stop you, sir.’
Astonished, he stared at her, his mouth agape, as she tried to suppress a smile of amusement. She was mean, she knew, but it was rather amusing to see him goggling at her like that as she offered herself to him so boldly.
‘But you can’t mean –’ He broke off as she bent close to him, bringing her lips to his, silencing him with a kiss as his hands automatically reached up to pull her closer to him.
‘Oh Lenore,’ he moaned, as his lips met hers, her body yielding to his hard insistence. His fingers moved to fumble with the laces of her corset again, and this time she didn’t attempt to prevent him.
‘I want you for my own, just for my own,’ he murmured, holding her by the tops of her arms as he looked into her eyes.’
‘What do you mean?’ She looked up at him, not understanding.
‘I will pay Madame handsomely, as many gold sovereigns as she wishes, for I have more than she could ever imagine, but I wish for you not to entertain any other clients. Lenore, I must be the only man to have you.’
Was this really happening? He knew how high a price a courtesan such as herself could command, and he knew too how much it would cost to secure her exclusivity. Did he really want her so much he was prepared to pay a king’s ransom to have her?
‘Are you sure?’ she gasped, as he held her.
‘I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life,’ he growled, ‘but only with your consent. Do you want me and only me in your bed, Lenore?’ He looked up at her hopefully, awaiting her response.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘oh yes, James, I do.’
He pressed his mouth to her, his hands reaching to encircle her back in an effort to pull her closer to him.
‘Lenore, I must have you,’ he breathed, his fingers unhooking the bodice of her dress, fumbling to untie her stays. He sighed heavily with pleasure as her generous white breasts spilled out, newly freed from the stiff corset that had been constraining them.
‘Oh,’ she gasped as he palmed her bare breasts greedily, the wetness between her thighs threatening to turn into a tsunami of desire. Heavens above, she would drown them both in her arousal if he continued to torment her like that.
‘You beautiful, wicked tease,’ he mouthed into her ear as he pushed her back against the velvet of the sofa. ‘You know just what you do,’ he growled as his hand rode up under the smooth silk of her skirts, along the silken stocking she wore, seeking out the tender bare flesh of her inner thigh.
‘Oh, oh please,’ was all she found she could moan in response, her hands resting atop his shoulders as his hands urgently prised her thighs apart. Exposing her bareness, he gave a great sigh as he bent down to kiss her mouth once more, his thick fingers pushing inside her with urgency.
‘Moan for me,’ he ordered huskily as he regarded her, spread-eagled against the back of Madame du Monsignor’s sofa cushions, her skirts risen askew, and her heavy breasts spilling out of the tight green silk bodice. She knew she must look perfectly wanton as she lay there like that, and she knew too that the sight of her was driving him wild, a fact made evident by the prominence of the bulge in his breeches. As if reading her thoughts, he grabbed her hand, forcing it down to his crotch.
‘Oh,’ she gasped again as her fingers closed upon his maleness through the buckskin of his breeches. Had she really made him so aroused?
‘You see what you do to me,’ he growled, pushing her skirts up even higher to display her stocking tops, and placing his hands either side of her inner thighs.
‘Yes,’ she breathed, as his strong hands pushed her thighs wider apart. He drew a hungry breath before bending his head to kiss the tender flesh between her legs.
‘Oh, but you mustn’t,’ she cried, flushing crimson with embarrassment. Although she was well versed in the arts of lovemaking this was not something that any man had attempted to do to her before. Most of them were more than satisfied with a quick thrust or two, a few preferring her to use her admittedly skilful mouth to pleasure them instead, but none of them had ever bent their head to kiss at her most intimate place before.
‘Oh please,’ she cried, as he bent his head to the bare flesh of her wetness, ‘please, you mustn’t.’ She pushed at his dark curls, attempting to fend him off, but he shrugged her off insistent.
‘Let me,’ he insisted, looking up at her, his eyes so full of want for her that she found herself unable to deny him.
Her breath caught in her throat, the excitement and trepidation at what he might do to her almost too much to bear. Weakly, she nodded her assent and he bent his head once again, this time extending his tongue to taste the nub of her clitoris, the dark pink flesh of it by now swollen and engorged with so much desire for his touch.
‘Yes, oh yes,’ she cried out again, this time in pure pleasure as his tongue lashed her. Hungrily it coursed a trail from the tender pink nub down to the silken folds between her thighs, as if he would consume all of her, causing her body to shiver deliciously as he pleasured her.
Abandoning herself to his touch as he teased and tormented her with his tongue, she threw back her head and arched her back, shamelessly displaying her sex to him. She cared not about ladylike demureness any more, she simply wanted this magnificent man to own her body completely, every fibre of her flesh calling out to his body to take her, to fill her with up entirely with his masculinity.
‘I must have you,’ he groaned into her heat, his tongue thrusting up inside her as her legs locked about his neck.
‘Oh, oh,’ she moaned, writhing about in the heat of her passion as he forced her body to give itself up to the white heat of orgasm, the sensation blinding her to everything but the feeling of pure pleasure coursing through her body. Gasping, she rode his tongue, as
his strong hands held up her thighs, her body undulating at his expert touch.
‘Please …’ She writhed beneath him, spent now and moaning, trying to push his head away from her body, for the sensation was becoming too exquisitely torturous to endure.
Pulling away, he grinned at her, his handsome face never more desirable than in this moment, as he drank in the sight of her flushed cheeks and rumpled silks. Oh, how she wanted him to claim her! As if he knew what she desired, he reached down to the fastening of his breeches, fumbling with it as his magnificent cock sprang free.
In heat now, she parted her thighs for him, hitching up her skirts and spreading herself wantonly, inviting him to move on top of her. His growl was forceful as his lips found her throat, his hands wandering up her dress and caressing the sides her body, the broad palms seeking out more and more of her flesh as, forcefully, he thrust himself inside her.
‘Oh,’ she gasped as he entered her. His cock filled her entirely as she pulsed around his length, causing him to elicit groan after groan as he thrust forcefully into the hot silk of her.
‘Take it, take me all,’ he moaned as his body tensed and she clasped him to her, feeling him spasm inside her.
‘My love,’ he murmured into her hair, collapsing against her, his breathing ragged, the smell of desire emanating from every pore of him as he held her fast, against the soft velvet of the chaise longue.
Chapter Six
The agreement was made with Madame, and they saw each other regularly after that. James would call for her almost every night, except at the weekend when he was required to attend the formal dinners and receptions that his mother and father held. They went everywhere together in those precious twilight hours: to the opera, to dinner, to the grand ballroom where they danced a waltz together under a huge, glittering chandelier and he held her in his arms and kissed her tenderly.
She didn’t think she had ever been so happy as when she was with him. He made her come alive in the most delicious way, and Lenore couldn’t quite imagine how she had existed before he had come into her life. Sometimes she would get an odd pang of sadness when she thought about how, eventually, they would not be able to be together, remembered that he would have to marry well, marry a respectable noble lady with a title and wealth, and would be required to start a family, to produce heirs.
Then, of course, there would be no place for her, none at all. It pained her to think of him with another woman, belonging to another woman. Somehow it didn’t seem right at all, yet what could she do about it? Nothing, so there was little point moping about it. At least she had him now, and oh, the moments they shared together! She knew they would both treasure them for a lifetime.
‘I love you, Lenore,’ he said simply and plainly to her, his blue eyes earnest as he looked down at her in his arms. He was cradling her after they had both collapsed, satiated, from a tender lovemaking session in the little four-poster bed that resided in her small but sumptuously decorated boudoir at Madame du Monsignor’s house.
Twisting her head round to look up at him, she gave an involuntary gasp at the words. Had he really said it, really confessed his love for her, or had she imagined it? Not knowing quite what to say, she kept silent, staring at him dumbly, waiting for him to say something else so that she could gauge whether the incident had been a figment of her imagination or a glorious reality.
‘I love you,’ he urged again, insistently, taking her hand and pressing it to his cheek with such tenderness that her heart almost burst with emotion for him. Never had a man treated her as if she were such a precious jewel; everything from the way he looked at her to the way he spoke to her communicated the high regard in which he held her.
‘I … I …’ she faltered, wanting desperately to say it, but barely daring, lest the delicious moment should somehow evaporate.
‘Say it, Lenore, say you love me too,’ he pressed her, and she nodded, joyful tears threatening to fall down her cheeks, so happy, so truly loved by him did she feel.
‘I do love you James,’ she whispered, reaching up to plant a soft kiss on his lips as his body relaxed against her own, satisfied that her heart was just as firmly in his possession as his was in hers.
And so they continued on, for nearly four more months straight, through April, May, June, and into July, cocooned in a hazy bliss, and emboldened with the kind of confidence that only new lovers can truly possess. He had escorted her home to Madame du Monsignor’s house after one particularly enjoyable evening, where they had dined under candlelight upon the finest roast hog she had ever tasted, accompanied by sweet apple sauce and crispy roast potatoes, and washed down by copious glasses of French Claret.
Pausing at the door on his way out, after the two of them had made love passionately in her bedroom, he bent his head to kiss her lips. She was still glowing from his touch, her body tingling at the memory of his hands upon her, teasing, caressing, desiring ever more from her body, even as she had offered it up to him.
‘Goodnight, my love,’ he’d murmured as she’d hung around his neck, not wanting him to leave, her hands reluctant to relinquish the embrace.
‘I will see you tomorrow night?’ she asked him, already knowing the answer. For nearly four months now they had spent every night together apart from the weekends, and he had even managed to sneak away to spend a good few of those in her company as well.
‘You will, my love,’ he whispered, planting a kiss on her slim throat, the act causing her body to shiver pleasurably at the feel of his mouth upon her neck. She watched as he turned to make his way to his carriage, stopping to wave at her one last time before placing one hand on the rail and hefting himself up the narrow steps, disappearing inside. The coachman clicked the reins and the white horses began to trot, pulling the carriage away with them, and taking him from her. Sighing, she had just turned to go back inside the house when the voice spoke, freezing her in her tracks.
‘So, my son is to marry a common whore?’
She wheeled around, as the owner of the voice stepped out of the darkness at the side of the house that had been concealing them. Lady Durham’s face loomed out eerily at her between the shadows thrown by the two Chinese lanterns that hung either side of Madame du Monsignor’s porch.
‘I … Lady Durham, what are you doing here?’ She floundered wildly, not knowing what to say.
‘What am I doing here? I was certain there was something familiar about you. And so I instructed my coachman to follow James, see where he went. And look what we found.’ The woman reached out to cup Lenore’s face, her bony, black leather-gloved fingers clawing for her. Instinctively, she recoiled from the contact.
‘A common harlot. You may have been able to fool my son, girl, but you can’t fool me.’
‘I wasn’t trying to fool anyone, Lady Durham, I assure you,’ she protested.
‘Oh really?’ Lady Durham looked scornfully at her. ‘And I suppose defrauding a duke into believing that the woman he is marrying is a countess instead of a common courtesan isn’t entrapment?’
‘Really, I didn’t – it wasn’t like that, you don’t understand…’ She paused, her cheeks burning with shame. How could she find the right words to express the truth?
‘I think I understand well enough. Enough to ensure my fool of a son doesn’t throw himself and the family name and fortune away on a shameless trollop at least. You may have been able to deceive him, my girl, but I knew there was something you were hiding. French countess, my foot.’
‘I never meant to offend you, Lady Dur –’ The woman stopped her with a hand.
‘Child, what you meant to do is perfectly plain. You intended to entrap my son into marriage in order to obtain his wealth and to elevate yourself from the cesspit in which you dwell.’
‘Lady Durham, please believe me, I never meant to entrap anyone. I love your son, we’re … we’re in love …’ Pleadingly, she looked at the duchess, but there was no mercy to be found in her unforgiving expression.
‘In love
?’ She sneered, curling her lip in distaste. ‘I hardly think so, my dear. You’re a floozy, a tart, a hurried tumble. Oh, you may be pleasing to the eye but that’s all you’ll ever be to James. Why, he’s been courting the Lady Marchmond for the past three months, and they are to be betrothed.’
‘Wh-what?’ James to be betrothed? Why had he not told her himself?
‘He didn’t tell you? Well, what did you expect? Did you really think a man of his position would marry a common peasant like you?’
‘I didn’t expect him to marry me.’
‘No? Oh, spare me your protestations; I saw the gold sovereigns in your eyes the first time I laid my eyes upon you. But perhaps you see now you may be able to wheedle your way into a duke’s bed, but you will never be able to worm your way into his heart. The best thing you can do is to stay away from my son. Here, perhaps this will be some incentive.’ Lady Durham tossed a green velvet pouch at her and, taken unawares, she caught it clumsily. The pouch clinked as she caught it, the weight of it feeling heavy in her hands.
‘One hundred gold sovereigns. More money than you’ve likely ever seen in your life, and certainly enough to take care of any predicament my idiot son may have got you into. Now run along, girl, back to your harem, and take your purse of gold, for you’ve got all you’re going to receive from the Durhams.’
Open-mouthed, Lenore stood there, staring at Lady Durham as her brain attempted to process the reality of what she was proposing. The woman thought she could just buy her off, purchase her affection, render the love she and James had shared meaningless?
‘Keep your coin, I don’t want it,’ she retorted angrily, flinging the purse at the woman just before she turned to flee into the house, Lady Durham’s hollow laugh still ringing in her ears as she slammed the door shut behind her.
Chapter Seven
The days which followed were the darkest she had ever experienced in her life. James had called for her the next night as he had promised he would, but she instructed Eleanor to tell him she had gone away, and she watched from behind the crack in her bedroom curtains as he left the house, his shoulders drooping as he made his way back to the carriage.
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