More or Less a Countess

by Anna Bradley

  “I have some idea, yes.” She’d never seen this fabled appendage, that is, not the human version of it, but she’d been raised in Surrey, and there were a great many animals about.

  Of course, animals didn’t wear the pouches, hence the gap in her knowledge.

  He blew out a relieved breath. “Then you should be able to deduce how it works. The gentleman, he…well, he slides it over his…appendage, before he engages in coitus.”

  Violet looked down at the pouches again, trying to envision how that might work. “But how does it stay on?”

  Lord Dare muttered something under his breath about bloody bluestockings. “See the red ribbons on the end of it? He ties them.”

  “To what? I don’t see how—”

  She didn’t get any further, because Lord Dare grabbed her arm, and without another word he hurried her away from the case, past the collection of preserved animal parts floating in their glass jars, past the skeletons in the long main hallway, and out the front door of the museum.

  “Lord Dare! Wait—”

  “Quiet, Miss Somerset.”

  He bundled her into the carriage and hardly gave her a chance to sit down before he slammed his fist on the ceiling to signal the driver to go. Violet clutched her sketchbook on her knees and stared across the carriage at Lord Dare, who’d thrown himself into his seat and was now gazing at her, his arms crossed over his chest and a pained expression on his face.

  An awkward silence fell between them. Violet’s gaze dropped to her lap as regret washed over her. She wasn’t ashamed of her curiosity, but they’d been having such a nice time, and he’d been so kind to bring her, and then she’d gone and spoiled everything.

  “I beg your pardon, Lord Dare,” she said at last. “I shouldn’t have teased you about it. I just…well, I’m curious, and I don’t have anyone to ask about such things, and I thought perhaps you…”

  Violet trailed off when he didn’t reply, and she returned her gaze to her lap, quite miserable. Oh, why could she never hold her tongue?

  He let out a long, low sigh. “Come here, Miss Somerset.”

  Violet raised her eyes to his. He patted the seat, and she didn’t hesitate, but slid into the space beside him.

  He held out his hand. “Give me your sketchbook and a pencil.”

  Violet did as he asked. He flipped through the book until he came to a blank page, and then he began to sketch. “I’m not the accomplished artist you are, but I’ll do my best. This is a gentleman’s torso, and the tops of his legs.” He nudged the book toward her so she could see it, and drew a few more rough lines on the page. “Do you see?”

  Violet herself would have made an interesting exhibit for the Hunterian’s collection at that moment, because her eyes nearly fell out of her skull. Was he…goodness, was Lord Dare actually going to explain the pouches to her? It seemed incredible, but he continued with his sketch as she stared at the page, dumbfounded.

  “This is his, uh…appendage, and the rest of his anatomy.” He drew a few more lines until he’d drawn a shape that resembled the pouches in the case3, then sketched in two circular shapes at the base of it. “The condom—that’s the proper name for it, and I beg you never to use the term ‘English riding coat’ again—goes over him like this, then ties under here, like this. Do you understand?”

  Violet cocked her head to the side to study the sketch, then nodded. “I—yes, I see how it would work, but it looks as if…couldn’t it slip off the end, even with the tie?”

  “It can happen, yes, but it’s unlikely if it’s tied properly, especially when the gentleman’s appendage is, ah…well, like this.”

  He moved to a blank space on the page and drew two more appendages, one of them limp and dangling down between the torso’s legs, and the other…

  Violet caught her breath. The other was standing upright, and all at once it became clear to her just how everything worked. Not just the condom, but all the gentlemanly…apparatus.

  “When a gentleman is aroused, that is, when he’s ready to have coitus, his appendage is like this.” He tapped the pencil next to the second sketch. “So you see, when he’s, ah…well, when he’s firm, the condom is far less likely to slip off, because it can be tied more securely.”

  Without realizing she was doing it, Violet reached out and traced her fingers over the second sketch, and when she did, Lord Dare let out a faint moan.

  “How does it—the condom, I mean—how does it prevent disease?”

  He didn’t speak at once, but she was pressed close enough against him she could feel it when he took a long, deep breath. “When a gentleman, ah…when he’s at the height of his pleasure…” He looked down at her, his gray eyes dark. “Do you know what that means?”

  Oh, she knew. She’d never witnessed such a thing herself, but she’d heard a man reach the heights of pleasure, and not just any man, but this one, that evening in Lord Derrick’s library. “I, ah…I have a vague idea, yes.”

  “When he’s at the height of his pleasure, he, um…he releases an effluvium, and the lady…well, there are various, ah…fluids that occur during coitus that can spread disease. The condom prevents that, and it also prevents conception.”

  He fell silent, and after a moment he closed the sketchbook and handed it back to her. It occurred to Violet she should move away from him and go back to her seat on the other side of the carriage, but she didn’t. “I, ah…no one’s ever explained this to me before.”

  Certainly not her grandmother, and even her married sisters, who surely must understand the mechanics of the thing, had only offered vague information when pressed. Iris had been willing to go into more explicit detail until she’d discovered Violet intended to use the information in her book, then she’d clapped her mouth closed tighter than a whalebone corset.

  He let out a short laugh. “I can’t say I’m surprised at that.”

  “Why did you explain it?”

  The conversation had embarrassed Lord Dare—there was no question about that. She’d felt him stiffen beside her when she asked about the condom slipping off, and she’d heard his hesitation, the strain in his voice as he’d explained the part about the fluids. She’d noticed the subtle shake of his hand when he’d drawn the appendages.

  He hadn’t wanted to tell her any of it.

  “I told you because you asked, Miss Somerset. I didn’t think it proper to discuss it in the middle of the museum with all the dissected frogs listening on, however.”

  Violet fell back against the seat, astounded at this response. He’d told her because she’d asked him to? She sat speechless, trying to recall if anyone had ever before offered her knowledge for no other reason than she’d asked.

  Years of questions—decades of them. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of questions, and she could only remember a handful of instances when she hadn’t had to argue and plead and fight to get the answers.

  And now he—Lord Dare, of all people—had simply given her knowledge, offered it up to her as if she had every right to it. Not just any knowledge, either, but the kind of knowledge deemed inappropriate for delicate, feminine ears.

  She stared at him, her heart in her throat. Was it possible she’d misunderstood him? “But…that’s it? You told me because I asked? For no other reason?”

  He looked surprised. “Well, you’re a scholar, aren’t you? You have an educational interest in the subject, not a prurient one. If you’d asked for any other reason perhaps I wouldn’t have been so forthcoming, but under the circumstances, I thought you deserved to know.”

  Violet went still as his explanation sank in.

  It wasn’t proper, and it wasn’t gentlemanly—it wasn’t anything Violet could ever imagine any other gentleman ever doing for her, but Lord Dare had answered her questions because he’d decided, against every expectation she could ever have had of him, that she’d been entitled to the kn
owledge she asked for.

  It stunned her. He stunned her.

  “Lord Dare?” She touched his arm.

  He looked down at her with a faint smile. “More questions, Miss Somerset? I do hope you’re not going to ask me to describe the various fluids to you.”

  “No, I just…”

  She didn’t give herself a chance to think about it or change her mind. She simply turned to him, clambered onto her knees on the seat bench, and did what she’d wanted to do all day. She leaned toward him, pressed her palms against his face, and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  He stiffened, but then he let out a ragged sigh, and his warm breath drifted over her lips. Violet slid her hands away from his face and drew away. Two bright spots of color stained the crests of his cheekbones, and he was watching her with dark, sleepy eyes.

  For a moment she thought he’d reach for her, but he didn’t. He simply nodded, once, but his gray eyes were so warm, so intense, it was almost as if he’d stroked his fingertips over her heated skin.

  Violet licked suddenly dry lips. That drawing he’d done, of the upright appendage…what, precisely, did it take to make it stand upright like that? He’d explained that it happened when a gentleman became aroused, but how did one arouse him to a degree that his appendage would rise in such a demanding manner? What did it take to make him reach the height of his pleasure, and once he did, well…what was it like?

  Lord Dare cleared his throat. “You’re looking at me as if I were a preserved monkey’s head, Miss Somerset, and you’re about to take me from my jar and do an experiment on me.”

  “No, I—no, of course not, my lord.” Except an experiment was the best way to gain knowledge, and he’d shown himself willing enough so far, and if she could get a bit more information, perhaps she could write that chapter, after all. “I only wondered…”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “Yes?”

  “What does it take to make the, ah, the gentleman’s appendage so…eager? I mean, what can a lady do to him, to help him reach the height of his pleasure?”

  Lord Dare’s lips parted. “She kisses and touches him, among other things, but it isn’t a good idea—”

  Violet slid her fingers up his arms and rested her hands against his jaw. It was shadowed with the faintest hint of a beard, and the tiny bristles tickled her palms. “Like this?” She leaned forward, and pressed her mouth to his.

  He went still as her lips moved over his, but then he let out a low groan, closed his hands around her waist, and pushed her gently away. “This isn’t like Execution Dock, or Cockpit Steps, Miss Somerset. I’m a man of flesh and blood, not one of your ghosts. It isn’t wise for a young lady to tempt a man in such a way.”

  Tempt him? A forlorn little laugh escaped Violet’s lips.

  Oh, she was likely safe enough. It wasn’t as if she’d ever inspired mindless passion in a gentleman before, and it was especially unlikely to happen with a gentleman like Lord Dare, who was accustomed to beautiful, tempting ladies like Lady Uplands. “All right, but first tell me, did it work? That is, are you aroused?”

  He seemed to be having trouble catching his breath, and his fingers tightened on her waist. “This isn’t a game, Miss Somerset. A gentleman’s arousal isn’t something to play with. Go back to your seat at once.”

  But Violet didn’t go back to her seat. She didn’t move. She couldn’t tell if he was becoming aroused, but warmth had pooled in her lower belly as soon as her mouth touched his, and her limbs felt pleasantly languid.

  So she ignored his warning and kissed him again. His lips were much softer than she’d expected a gentleman’s lips to be, but they were firm, too, and so warm and lovely. She let her mouth linger on his this time, but just as she’d grown bold enough to start exploring the shape of his lips, he did the strangest thing.

  He opened his mouth.

  And that was when everything changed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “In case it’s not yet apparent to you, Miss Somerset,” he whispered against her lips. “The answer is yes. I am aroused, and becoming more so every moment.”

  Violet let out a startled squeak when his tongue darted out and brushed against the seam of her lips. It caught her by surprise, and her first thought was to draw away from him, but his hand moved to her neck, and he sank his long fingers into her hair and held her still for his mouth. His grip was careful, but even as he held her gently his mouth was relentless, his tongue seeking entry with an insistence that left Violet dizzy and breathless.

  “Open your mouth for me, sweetheart.”

  His tongue swept over the seam of her lips again, and this time she opened for him—responding instinctively to his demand without a thought of denying him.

  He drew back just a fraction—far enough so his lips were no longer touching hers, but so close she could feel the warmth of them still, a mere breath away.

  “Do you feel that?” His voice rasped across her nerve endings like a cat’s tongue over sensitive skin, and a strangled laugh left his throat as she tried to catch his lips with hers again.

  “That ache inside you, that makes you want my lips on yours? You feel it everywhere, don’t you, and it makes you wild. That’s arousal, desire, and when it’s like this, it sweeps everything before it. It’s not something an innocent young lady like you should trifle with, especially not with a man like me.”

  His hands closed over her shoulders to ease her away from him, but Violet curled her fingers into his coat and held on with white knuckles, her mouth seeking his, until he gave up and let his hands slide to the arch of her back, pressing her tight against him with a helpless groan.

  He took her lips harder then, his hands restless in her hair, tugging her closer as he opened his mouth over hers and surged inside. And oh, the taste of him, the sensation of his hot tongue wrapping around hers, invading every corner of her mouth. The lazy, languid feeling weighing down her limbs exploded into frantic heat, and the next thing Violet knew her own tongue had darted out to lick his bottom lip.

  The moment he felt the tentative slide of her tongue, his entire body went rigid against hers. His chest vibrated with another groan, and his big hands wrapped around her waist again, tugging her closer. Violet was still on her knees on the carriage seat, and she lost her balance and fell against him, her boneless body sprawled on top of his, her breasts tight against his chest and her knees between his thighs.

  He let out a quiet laugh, and Violet felt the reverberation of it low in her belly. “Well, that wasn’t quite what I intended, but now that you’re here…” He slid his palms from her waist up her back, his movements slow and deliberate. He paused to stroke her vertebrae, shaping the delicate grooves with sensitive fingertips, each caress more maddening than the last, until he reached the back of her head and tangled his hands in her hair. He was gentle, but he held her firmly, keeping her still as his desperate mouth took hers again and again.

  Violet whimpered, her body driving her on, urging her to squirm closer to him so she could feel the hard expanse of his chest against the enflamed tips of her breasts. She slid her arms around his neck and pressed tighter against him, hardly knowing what she did as she was tugged into a relentless current of desire. There was no defense against it, no way to fight it—there was only him and his mouth against her neck, her throat, his panting breath as he nipped at her ear, then licked his tongue over the abraded skin.

  Some ancient instinct in the dimmest, most primal part of Violet’s brain whispered a warning: this was something far more powerful than she’d ever imagined, and much too far out of her experience and control, but she could only let it sweep over her, toss her about until she either came out of it, limp and shaking, or drowned in it.

  She didn’t even want to fight it. She only wanted him.

  His mouth and hands seemed to be everywhere at once, stroking, teasing, and caressing, a
nd his hard body was shaking against hers. “I want you, so damn much.” He gripped her hips in his hands and shifted her on his lap so her legs were on either side of his splayed thighs. “Do you know what that means? Can you feel me?” He held her hard against him and made a subtle movement with his hips.

  It was a restrained thrust only, but it was enough.

  Violet’s breath caught in her throat as he moved against her, and she felt the hard length of him between her thighs, even through the heavy layers of her cloak and gown.

  “Does that satisfy your curiosity about arousal, sweet? Or should I lower my falls so you can take a sketch for your book?” He sounded half angry, but even as he reproached her he moved his voracious mouth over her, licking and sucking at her neck.

  “Or if that’s not good enough, I can keep thrusting against you until I reach the height of my pleasure, and you can take a sketch of that, so all the bluestockings in London will know what it looks like when a man becomes so lost to desire he forgets his honor, and shamelessly lets an innocent ride him until he comes.”

  Violet bit back a plea, because yes, God help her, she wanted that, to feel him become frantic, to watch his face contort with pleasure.

  She dropped her hands to his chest and leaned over him, fusing her lips to his as she twisted and writhed over his lap, gliding against him until he seemed to lose all control, one ragged breath after another catching in his throat as he whispered to her in broken words, begging her for…what?

  For everything, and all of it at once. “Give me your mouth, sweet…yes, now touch me…” A harsh moan fell from his lips when her hands slid into his hair. “We can’t…we can’t…tell me to stop, sweetheart. Push me away…”

  But Violet couldn’t push him away. She could only hold onto him, the one solid thing in a world that had suddenly gone dangerously atilt. She dug her fingers into the hard, tense muscles of his shoulders and back, and nipped hard at his bottom lip.