Love Revealed

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Love Revealed Page 3

by Sorcha Mowbray


  “I need to see Madame Marchander. It seems I have some business to negotiate with her.” He needed to figure out what it was about Kat that drew him, or he needed to exorcise this fascination so he could move on.

  “My lord, I will see if she is available.” Phillipe bowed and disappeared again.

  A short while later the redoubtable Madame Marchander appeared in the common room. Her aqua satin gown made her blue eyes stand out in striking contrast to her blond hair. She was a stunning woman, and she wielded her power with a careful stratagem that would have made Wellington proud.

  “I understand you would have a word with me, my lord”

  “I would, Madame, let us speak in private.”

  “Of course, please accompany me.” She slipped her arm in his and led him to the door behind the tapestry. They entered a smaller room, which held a delicate desk and chair with two comfortable wing back seats set across from it. Behind those seats crackled a warming fire. With a swish of her skirts, Madame Marchander settled behind her desk, for without a doubt it was hers, and indicated one of the seats for him.

  “Now, what is it I may do for you?” she asked, all but purring the question.

  “I find I’d like to establish an exclusive arrangement with Kat, one of my more frequent partners here. I’m prepared to offer generous terms in return for exclusive rights to her time. I want her available to me whenever I choose and she will entertain no one else for the duration of the agreement. You understand the nature of my preferences, but we will stay true to the rules agreed to by all members. Whatever the fees are, send me the bill. I will cover hers as well if she is a fellow patron.”

  Madame Marchander sized him up from across her desk. Perused him head to toe as though assessing his offer, and even his manhood. After a long drawn out silence, she spoke. “My lord, as you are a member in good standing with no warnings in your file, I will entertain your request to arrange a contract. I will need to relay your request to the lady in question and determine her interest and if the terms are agreeable. This will require a few days’ time.”

  “I don’t wish to wait. Contact me tomorrow with her response.” Heath stood and stalked toward the door. A few days were a few too many. He wanted her. Now. Madame Marchander would make the arrangements. That he did not doubt.

  “My lord, do not confuse me with one of your women. The lady will have sufficient time to consider your offer. I will contact you with her response as soon as it is delivered.” Her eyes had turned ice cold. He overstepped his bounds. He should know she was not a common servant to be ordered about. It grated against every fiber of his instinct, but he acquiesced since he had no other option.

  “Very well. A speedy arrangement would be greatly appreciated, and well rewarded.” She was, after all, a businesswoman at heart. He nodded and left her office.

  ***

  Katherine sat in her morning room and reread the note for the third time. Her hands trembled and her heart raced. Madame Marchander, proprietress of The Market, penned the missive with remarkable elegance. It relayed an offer from Sir. For the next six months he wanted her to be available to him at all times, she would see no other men during their agreement, and her body would be his to do with as he chose. In exchange for this agreement, he’d cover her fees at The Market and of course see to her pleasure. He wanted to meet her that night. A delicious shiver ran up her spine as she remembered how he had bound her wrists the last time they were together. It was as though he recognized her, what she wanted, even needed, practically before she did. Her nimble imagination made the leap, picturing her submitting to Sir’s attentions on a regular basis. Their encounters were always satisfying, and the contract was only six months. Besides, as a patron she had the right to sever any contract if she was unhappy with the arrangement.

  She walked to her writing desk, tucked in the corner of her morning room, and retrieved fresh paper and ink. Dipping the pen in the well, she paused for a moment. Then wrote, explaining to Madame that while the arrangement was welcome, her availability required twenty-four hours’ notice. She would normally need time to be able to arrange her schedule in such a way it would not be too disruptive to the rest of her life. She still had responsibilities to be managed and could ill afford any further damage to her tattered reputation. However, she agreed to the requested meeting later in the evening. With a satisfied nod, she folded the note and handed it to her butler to give to the waiting messenger.

  Heath sat in his library, impatience riding him hard as the clock ticked like a racing turtle. When would he hear from Madame? The waiting made it impossible to get any work done. The rather large stack of correspondence in need of his attention sat on his desk in silent reproach. Around mid-day a message arrived. He read the reply and request for a day’s notice and had to consciously stop grinding his teeth. The appeal was reasonable considering it was clear his Kat, and she was his now, had a life of her own to manage.

  Quick to reply, he indicated his acceptance of her terms then folded the letter and passed it back to his man. Heath stood, walked over to the whiskey decanter, and poured himself a drink. He swirled the amber liquid that reminded him of Kat’s eyes when the fire caught them. Anticipation coiled in his stomach and caused his groin to tighten when he pictured her spread out beneath him as he claimed her body. It would be a fierce claiming, no gentleness that first time. He wanted her, wanted her to know she belonged to him. He’d fuck her and claim her in the most basic of ways, and he reveled in the expectation.

  All that was left was to plan how he would plumb her boundaries and test her strength. He suspected her inner strength; the question was what would she bear? How far would she go? Did she trust him? How much? How would she take to punishment? Had she ever been spanked? Would she let him take her backside? Would she enjoy restraints as much as he wanted to restrain her? She had responded well to being bound their last time together.

  He needed answers to those questions. Always, he wanted to test people, explore their limits. It was part of him. A part he worked hard to keep in check as dictated by Victorian society, but part of him nonetheless. He feared letting it out, feared what may happen to a woman if he didn’t control the beast within. However, Kat was different, somehow with her he could be his true self, and she would neither shrink away nor be hurt. She was resilient, strong, beautiful, and now she belonged to him.

  Mine. Of course, not in any permanent or meaningful way. But for now, for this moment she was his. And, that gave him great satisfaction. Enough that he was able to settle in and focus on the neglected correspondence. If he didn’t get through it all, Chelmsford, his secretary, would grow very disapproving; which was a strange and uncomfortable experience. Preferring to avoid any such unpleasantness, Heath made notes for each of the letters indicating a reply. It was a tedious business, but necessary and with the reward of a night with Kat looming over the horizon it was much easier to accomplish.

  A few hours later, Heath rose and stretched, working the kinks out of his back. He glanced at the clock and decided he needed to get out, stretch his legs and burn off this restless energy. A ride through Hyde Park seemed just the thing.

  ***

  She was fidgeting. She never fidgeted. It wasn’t her way. She’d always advanced through life with a calm serenity. Today she couldn’t find it in her to control her own body. Sitting across the desk from her man of affairs as he explained a new investment, her leg bounced in the most unladylike fashion. Absently, her fingers drummed in an appalling and rude manner that had the man staring. Giving up all pretenses, she stood and paced his office.

  He very carefully set his pen down, his body rigid with frustration, and gave her an expectant look. As though he waited further direction. She paused in her meanderings and stared at the man. Hair ruffled from the slide of his fingers, and his crushed, rumpled clothes told of a long day. “Lady Drummond, is there something you need to attend to?” His measured tone reminded her of one a parent might use with an errant chi
ld.

  The rolling chimes of the grandfather clock in the hallway burst into the room. Two in the afternoon. She resumed pacing the length of his office, skirting her maid tucked in the corner. “No. Why do you ask?”

  “My apologies, my lady. You seem distracted today. Perhaps we should resume our conversation tomorrow?”

  “I have nothing else to attend to at this time. I apologize if I am not my normal, calm self today. I have had exciting news that will resolve itself later. I am afraid it has made me twitchy,” she offered as she made another pass in front of his desk.

  “Very well. I take it you understand the proposition I’m explaining to you?”

  “Quite well. I can’t sit still, I didn’t grow deaf. Please continue explaining this mining operation to me.” She waved him back to the conversation even as she continued her route. The harried man, ever persistent, explained the viability of an investment in mining as technology continued advancing. Close to thirty minutes later she stopped and turned to her adviser. “No. Not more coal. I wish to invest in steel. It is the common thread across this industrial surge. No matter the fuel used to propel something; that something is usually made of steel. Find me a steel mill to invest in. When you have a few prospects, you may present them to me, and I will decide on any further investments.” With a decisive nod of her head, Katherine turned and departed her financial adviser’s office.

  She marched down the stairs and clambered into her carriage, trailed by her little companion. A swift rap on the roof was followed by a succinct, “Hyde Park, Ralph.” She was able to settle back and allow her mind to wander to the evening’s adventure to come. She belonged to him, to Sir. The myriad of possibilities of what he might do to her both tonight and down the road were damn near overwhelming. She understood he’d be commanding. Demanding. But might he also be playful? Adventurous?

  She’d seen many things when she first visited The Market. Could she learn to trust him enough to explore the possibilities? He had been careful with her when he bound her wrists, and he was her favorite partner. A wave of anticipation rolled through her.

  Having arrived at Hyde Park, she exited the carriage to walk along a deserted Rotten Row. Yes. She would let him bind her wrists again in order to experience the pleasure they had shared. It wasn’t as if he stirred her emotions. Besides, the idea of the physical restraints held a strange appeal. No decisions to make, her sole responsibility to feel. It was taking their role play, his demanding nature, and her deep buried desire to surrender to a whole new place. She laughed and reined in the urge to spin, the need to let her skirts swirl around her while her arms thrust out from her body.

  Heath was pounding along the riding path when he spotted Lady Drummond walking with her maid trailing behind. He trotted over and dismounted.

  “Why, good afternoon, Lady Drummond.” He greeted her, happy to see a welcoming face.

  “Good afternoon, my lord.” She seemed to thrum with a vibrancy he had not seen before. Her normal prim exterior had a crack in it. A pleasant and intriguing fracture.

  Her eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun, taking on a cognac shade in lieu of the usual brown. “You seem to be in high spirits today.”

  “I am in excellent spirits. I have received tremendous news and in a few hours shall see everything set in motion.”

  Heath’s breath caught in his throat. She sparkled. Her hair was still pulled back in a simple bun, but her cheeks were flush with color and her eyes seemed to entrance him. Where was the reserved Lady Drummond? “I find I too have received good news recently.” He couldn’t control the grin splitting his face.

  “Well, it seems we both have something to be pleased with. I just left my solicitor’s and felt the need to go for a walk. Is it normal for you to ride at this hour?”

  “No. I missed my early morning ride and then worked most of the day.”

  It happened fast; perhaps she stepped on a rock. Lady Drummond stumbled, but he reached out and caught her before she fell. He found her cradled in his arms, not unlike when they waltzed. Only closer. Without warning, a profound awareness of her curves sent him reeling. This cognizance was followed by a familiar scent that teased his nose. Carnations. An image of her flashed through his mind. Naked and lashed to his bed, she cried his name as he entered her willing flesh. His uncontrollable body responded in the blink of an eye, when for weeks now Kat alone had stirred his interest.

  He was insane with lust. There was no other answer. Was there?

  “Oh dear. Thank you, Lord Heathington.” Her hands pressed against his chest as she tried to right herself.

  “Are you unhurt?” He clutched her to his chest, unwilling to let her pervasive warmth go.

  “I-I’m fine. I should pay more attention to where I step.” Her husky tones sent shivers down his spine.

  “Yes, you should. At least I was here to catch you.” He tried to temper his desire to scold her.

  “Perhaps you should let me go now?” The question penetrated his haze and he realized that besides clasping her in an intimate embrace, he was doing so on a public thoroughfare. And there was no doubt she was aware of his body’s reaction to her proximity.

  “Yes. Just making sure you were safe on your feet.” He cleared his throat as he set her from him.

  “Thank you, my lord. I think I shall head home now.” With those soft words she spun and fled to her carriage at the nearby entrance.

  He stood on the path watching her drive off, a raging erection straining his trousers, and a swirl of questions in his mind. Could the straitlaced Lady Drummond be his Kat? It was hard to reconcile the two women as one. But, his physical reaction to Lady Drummond, combined with the sparkle in her eyes and the tantalizingly familiar scent of carnations, all made a rather convincing argument that they were, in fact, the same.

  Chapter Four

  Katherine’s carriage halted and the door swung open. She stifled her naughty mind, filled with questions of what to expect from Sir, and exited the vehicle. As she sailed in through the front door, her butler greeted her with a salver bearing a note. She plucked it up and stopped dead in the foyer. It was a man’s writing. It must be from Sir. The script was so clean and bold, only a man as disciplined and commanding as he would have handwriting to match his persona. Smiling, she dashed to her chamber to peruse the note uninterrupted

  There, she unfolded the heavy paper and read her instructions for the evening. She was to use her regular perfume, but she was to wear no cosmetics—anywhere on her body. Her hair should be down so it might hang from beneath her mask. She could wear whatever she might like to The Market, but once there she’d change into the provided garments. Madame Marchander had taken care of ensuring everything would fit. His last instruction relayed that she should plan to stay until he was prepared to allow her to leave. She should make any arrangements she needed to make certain that was possible.

  A soft gasp escaped her at the last of the instructions. It seemed Sir had intentions on keeping her busy for a while. She hesitated. Was this what she wanted? A warm tingle settled low in her belly as her core grew slick at the thought of him keeping her through the next day. Yes, she wanted the pleasure she knew he could bring her. She glanced at the clock on her dresser and realized she needed to bathe and prepare. Her hair must look its best if she was to leave it down.

  A few hours later, clad in a simple but elegant gown of bronze satin and armed with an extra douche to prevent any mishaps, Katherine left for The Market. Delayed by her preparations and then finding a hack, she worried about keeping Sir waiting. No, she decided it would put their exchange on the right foot if he understood that he did not control her mind. He merely had the use of her body.

  The drive was short, as it was still premature for the usual traffic associated with partygoers and other revelers attending to the social season. This allowed her to be ensconced in what was to be her dressing room for the duration of the arrangement long before the normal patrons were about. Katherine glanced around
the room and found a lavender box with a large dark purple bow sitting on the chaise lounge.

  On the dresser lay a new mask. It was similar to The Market’s usual masks except it had the back cut out so her hair could hang free, and it was made of very soft leather. It still laced in the back, but the strap would be lost within the mass of her wavy hair. She turned to the box with the bow, her heart pounding. This. This would be her first insight in to what the night (and perchance day) would hold.

  With a delicate touch she raised the lid of the box and found a corset, stockings so sheer it was scandalous, garters, and a matching robe. A note rested on the contents instructing her to leave the robe on the chair when she entered the room. She wasn’t to have it on when he arrived. She dressed, first sliding on the black stockings and securing the deep purple garters. Next was the corset. As she picked it up she realized it was an under bust corset that would expose her breasts for his delectation. Her nipples puckered as though a cool breeze had swept through the room.

  Nibbling her lower lip, she put the corset on and laced it from the bottom to the top. The garment, covered in beautiful purple brocade, glowed in the gas light. The cords extended to the top, just below her breasts, so she tied them off into an easy to release bow and left them dangling. She was pleased with the effect. A soft knock at her door made her grab the robe to give some little modesty.

  It was a maid sent to see if she needed anything and to let her know Sir was ready and waiting. Kat kept her face averted from the maid. “Thank you. Please tell him I am almost ready. Perhaps another five minutes.”

  The maid nodded and headed down the hall. Kat snapped the door closed, placed her mask on and ran a brush through her hair. A moment later another knock sounded. It was the maid again. This time she entered before Kat could arrive at the door. “Sir directed you were to be ready now. He wants you in place when he comes in. If you will follow me.” The pretty girl walked to the other door opposite the hall and entered the chamber.

 

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