Lord Rose Reid and the Lost Lady

by Em Taylor

  “I… I do not know what you mean.”

  “Come. It shall be very pleasant to have a woman wash my back rather than a valet. I gave Dickson the night off so he could spend it in the tap room. I thought you would feel uncomfortable with yet another man in the room.”

  “Oh. Yes, I suppose I might.”

  “So would you do the honour of washing my back for me? I appreciate you are a lady and I should not ask you to do servant’s work but…”

  “Oh, that is fine. If I really were your wife, I am sure I would not mind.” She actually did not mind washing his back even though she was not his wife now. The idea of touching that skin was making her insides feel like they were fluttering.

  She took the linen and the soap from him and dipped them in the water near his knees. As she was soaping the cloth, her eyes wandered to his belly and the large manhood that was standing erect and nestled against it.

  “My lord! That is huge,” she squeaked, dropping both the soap and the cloth into the water and staring at it in horror. She had not actually seen Octavius’s, but it was certainly not that big.

  Jason glanced down and frowned. “What is?”

  “Your… thing!”

  “My cock?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well.” He ran a damp hand through his hair and his frown deepened. “I must say, I do not go around looking at the cocks of other men. I have seen the odd one or two just in passing. You know, out in the country when we’re caught short and go to the necessary and that sort of thing. And when Robert and I were at Eton and we were youths, we sort of compared to check neither of us were, well deformed I suppose, but I am pretty sure I am not really any bigger than anyone else, my dear. Are they all not much of a muchness?”

  “Octavius did not put anything that size in me.”

  “Well then, it is Octavius that is deformed, not me.”

  “That would never fit, my lord.”

  “It has fit into more women than you have had cups of tea, my lady. Not one lady has yet complained. You must have seen the size of it when I have been aroused. It makes a fair bulge in my breeches.”

  “Well yes, but I was not paying much attention. On the two occasions Octavius tumbled me when it was not our usual night for it, his breeches did have that bulge.”

  “Perhaps you were married to a molly or a man who was near impotent.”

  “Oh you are a brute.”

  “I am honest. Which appears to be more than your husband was. Did he even fancy you or did he just want you to carry on his line? It sounds as if the poor old bastard could not get it hard to consummate with you properly.”

  Sophia listened to his tirade and rose to her feet, backing towards the window seat whence she had come. What was he saying? Was he saying her marriage was not consummated? If so, what did that mean for her son? He was Octavius’s son. She had been with no other.

  “My son is no bastard,” was all she could say. “He is no bastard.”

  “No, Sophia. Please. I was not inferring he was. Christ, I’m an ass. That was awful. I am a horrible person.” He was out of the bath and advancing on her, with his manhood practically waving at her. “Please, let me apologise and explain what I meant.”

  “You are hateful for suggesting Oscar is a bastard. I have been with no other man. You! In the stable. I cannot be increasing, can I? Oh God.”

  “No Sophia. I need to put my seed inside with this.” He clutched his manhood. “I did not even have this out. Nor did I have an orgasm. Did he not teach you anything?”

  “Clearly not. And my mama died giving birth to me, so she could not explain anything, such as how not to end up in a room in an inn, with a naked brute about to ravish me.”

  He stopped advancing then and looked down at his naked body then back at the trail of water he had left across the floorboards.

  “Damn it all to hell. I have frightened you, have I not?”

  She did not answer him. She just crouched on the window seat, her hand clutched to her chest, as his shoulders slumped and he moved back towards the bath. He picked up the linen and giving himself a cursory dry before trying to tug his shirt on over his body.

  “I shall arrange to sleep in the servants’ quarters tonight. A bed is a bed.”

  “You are disappointed in me?”

  He turned and shook his head. “No Sophia. I am disappointed in me. I was unusually cruel and hurtful to you and forgot there are things you possibly do not know. Please know that what I said was in no way meant to cast doubt on the legitimacy of Oscar’s birth. I know he is the son of Lord Rutherford and of you.”

  “Then I do not understand.”

  He sighed then lifted his shirt. Her eyes widened as she looked at his manhood. It had shrunk somewhat.

  “Just as your breasts get bigger when Oscar needs to feed, my cock gets bigger when I am aroused. The idea that you were watching me and may be slightly aroused was somewhat arousing in itself. Plus, being stuck in a carriage all day with a gorgeous creature such as yourself, well it makes a man want to throw you on the bed and do naughty things to you. And when I want to do that, it gets large and hard. But it is not hard now. I would be even more of a brute than you already think I am if I was aroused by you being so distressed. So it has gone back to its resting state. I studied anatomy at university, much to my father’s disgust. I know that it gets more difficult for some men to get hard as they get older. It is also difficult for some men to get hard if they are not aroused by certain things… like women.”

  “Not aroused by women?”

  “You’re not entirely naïve, Sophia. You asked when you first arrived if Lord Whitsnow and I are mollies, so you know what one of those is. You told me you’d read about them.”

  “I do. They are men who bed other men.” What had that to do with…? Unless… “Are you suggesting Octavius could not get hard because he was interested in men?”

  “I am offering it up as a mere suggestion. It could have been his age. Or a number of other things.”

  He was still holding his shirt up and she considered his manhood.

  “It did mostly seem to grow once it was inside me and twice it was quite big. That was when he nearly attacked me and we had carnal relations outside of the bedroom and not on a Tuesday or Saturday.”

  “Hmm, both theories are still possibilities under those scenarios. Perhaps you will never know. But, perhaps you should be prepared, that if you take a husband or lover in the future, his will be a bit bigger.”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “I very much doubt it since you have had a child. It may feel different, that is all.”

  She sighed miserably. “I feel terrible. As if I have betrayed him.”

  “I shall never breathe a word to another living soul, if that helps you feel better.”

  She stared at him for a moment and considered what he had said. It did soothe her troubled conscience slightly. She believed that he would keep his word. He was a man of honour. She believed that deep down. With his mouth turned down and his shoulders slumped, he seemed to be as miserable and upset as she was.

  “You do not have to sleep with the servants tonight. Mayhap we can talk over dinner. I should hate to be arguing with you the rest of the journey to your father’s estate and once we get there.”

  “So would I. There are many better things to do than argue.”

  “Are there?” She raised an eyebrow at him and he closed the distance between them, his mouth crashing down on hers. His arms closed around her and she had no option but to wrap her arms around his neck. As she opened her mouth, his tongue invaded. It was like being back in the stable. His body was hard and unyielding, his kiss severe and urgent. She tugged on his hair, trying to change the angle, to move her own tongue deeper into his mouth, to explore further. She wanted to climb his body and be nearer him. She had to be as close to him as possible.

  Her whole body was alive with need for him but he did not explore as he had done leisurely the other day on
his bed. He urged her bottom against him, so her aching core was riding his thigh again. He was making her insane.

  A knock on the door pulled her out of the wonderful sensations he was pulling from her. Jason cursed and lifted his head.

  “Who is it?”

  “Dickson, my lord. I brought a footman to remove your bath.”

  “Oh um, right. Give me a few minutes.” He walked over to the water and swirled it around a bit to make it sound as if he was getting out of the tub then dried himself off fully before slipping on clean breeches and a shirt. “Get on the bed and close the curtains. We shall pretend you have been sleeping this whole time with the curtains closed.”

  She nodded and he drew the surrounding curtains before she heard the sound of the key turning in the lock and the snick of the door.

  “I was quite enjoying that bath. You roused me from my musings.”

  “Interesting, were they, my lord?”

  Sophia was sure she heard amusement in the valet’s tone.

  “Very invigorating, Dickson. How do you fancy sitting on top of the carriage tomorrow with the coachman?”

  “Not much, my lord.”

  “Then straighten your face and clean up your thoughts.”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  There was a swishing noise and footsteps as the bath was removed from the room, then the door clicked shut and the key turned in the lock again.

  “Do you think he knows I was not sleeping?” asked Sophia, peeking through the curtains.

  “Aye. Your snoring sounds would fool no one. If you are ever destitute, I suggest you forego the theatre as a career path. You make a terrible actress.”

  “I thought it was rather inspired.”

  “It sounded like a coach and four going over a wooden bridge.”

  “That is what Octavius sounded like when he fell asleep at his desk.”

  “It may be how old men snore, my love but it is not how ladies snore.”

  “Oh!”

  “Aye. Dickson may have thought I had become a molly and was tupping an old man.”

  “You are so gauche.”

  “I am. But you like my gaucheness almost as much as you like my kisses. Now that I am half-dressed, I suppose I may as well finish dressing for dinner. I can see you are enjoying ogling my half-dressed person, but it is not the done thing to be in a state of dishabille in front of a lady, now is it?”

  “It depends on what you are doing with the lady, I suppose.”

  He pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. “I know what I want to do but I suspect it would shock you, Lady Rutherford.”

  “And what is that?”

  He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mischief. “If I even described it, my lady, I believe you would fall into a dead faint. I should just surprise you with it when the time is right, I believe.”

  “Oh you are incorrigible, my lord.”

  “Indeed I am, my lady.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Jason had enjoyed every bite of his dinner. The company was excellent. It was amazing how he and Sophia still found plenty to talk about even though they had been in each other’s company all day. She was sitting by the fire nursing Oscar now and he was reading to her from a book. She looked the epitome of the perfect wife and this seemed like bliss to him.

  “It seems you have fallen asleep again at mama’s breast little man. Shall you sleep all night again as you did last night? We can only hope.”

  She sorted her gown and adjusted herself to stand. Jason stood in order to help her to her feet. Sophia tried to wave him away, but what sort of gentleman would he be if he did not stand when a lady stood.

  He watched as she laid her son in his makeshift travel bed and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

  “Mama promises to keep you safe and I pray God and all his angels will make that possible. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Jason muttered. She did not need God. She needed him to keep her and the boy safe. He was her protector now. And the infant was part of her.

  “I think I should retire too,” she said, yawning and stretching. Jason nodded. “Would you like me to fetch Maggie?”

  “No. I sent her to bed. She looked tired. She does not like to travel.”

  “I see. I shall retire too. Can I help you in any way?”

  “Not unless you wish to brush my hair.”

  He felt an almost instant warmth in his belly. All that beautiful blonde hair running though his fingers.

  “I do not mind helping if it is difficult.”

  “I would appreciate it.”

  “Fine, I shall brush your hair once you are ready in your nightgown.”

  “I have no nightgown. Just my shift.

  He closed his eyes and prayed for self-control. Of course she had no nightgown. She had never had a nightgown.

  “Fine. Your shift.”

  The problem was, Lady Sophia Rutherford seemed to be unconcerned that she only had a shift on and that when she was lying in bed with him, it would only be her shift and his shirt which would separate them. He refused to undress, apart from removing his shoes and stockings, until after she was abed.

  As he brushed her long, soft tresses, Jason listened to her moans of relief. He had heard that it was painful to have one’s hair pinned up all day and twisted and pulled into those intricate knots and curls. Sophia’s hair had beautiful waves and hung down as far as her bottom. Even though the touch was not intimate, Jason’s breeches were getting tight. Her moans sounded like the moans of a well-pleasured lover. He was desperate to move his hands around her body and cup her breasts. But he knew those were uncomfortable and the last thing he wanted to do was make her think sex was less than pleasurable after her experiences with her husband.

  “Thank you, Jason,” she said eventually. “I can braid it now, then I shall sleep comfortably.” She grasped a third in one hand, a third in the other and started to weave the sections around each other. Jason was intrigued. It was astounding how she could do that without looking. Towards the end, she pulled it over her shoulder to complete the task and secure the end with a rag. Then she stood up and walked to the bed, checking on the sleeping Oscar as she went. Once she was under the covers, Jason pulled off his breeches, banked the fire and then snubbed out all but one candle.

  “Do you not have a long nightshirt?” she asked as he climbed into bed.

  “No.”

  “But what of the one you used to make a clout for Oscar on the day we arrived? Surely you have more.”

  “I do, but they are not in my travelling valise. I did not expect to share a bed with a lady.”

  “Oh. But your legs are bare.”

  “Yes, they are. So are yours, mostly.”

  “Would you like me to become your lover? Both you and Lord Whitsnow have talked about having widows as lovers.”

  He had not expected her to ask just like that. But now that she asked it so boldly, he could not lie.

  “I would. I am attracted to you and…”

  She sighed and moved to her hands and knees.

  “Sophia?”

  “Well we have the bed. We may as well.”

  “May as well what?”

  “You may tumble me.”

  “Like that?”

  “Aye. This is how it is done. This is how Octavius and I did it. Is it not how…?” Her voice trailed off.

  “It can be done that way. There are no rules as to what position one must be in. Did he do it in that position the two times he was overcome with lust and did it in the day time?”

  “Oh well, he bent me over the chaise longue in his study. But we did it this way on my bed every Saturday and Tuesday as well.”

  “I see.”

  “Come here and just let me hold you. I think that is what you require more than anything at present. Yes, if that is what makes you comfortable, then I can make love to you that way, but there are more intimate, and I think, more enjoyable way to do it.”

  She crawled into his arms, unshed
tears brightening her eyes.

  “You think I am a ninny, do you not?”

  “No. I think while you may have had a good marriage with a kind man, he perhaps was not skilled in the bed chamber arts himself. Some men do not always consider their wives in that endeavour. I was not part of your marriage Sophia. It is not my place to judge it or your husband. But I would like the chance to show you how a lover should treat his lady.”

  “I think I may like that, my lord.” The wetness seeping through his shirt from her tears and the hiccoughing sound from her voice, told him she may want it, but rolling her over and thrusting his cock inside her would not earn her trust. He needed a better strategy.

  “Then let us remove our clothes and just lay in each other’s arms. I should like you to learn to trust me, Sophia.”

  She nodded and soon her naked body was plastered to his side. He had never felt better.

  Chapter 9

  It was not to be a full night’s sleep that they got. Oscar decided that 3 o’clock was the perfect time to wake up. After a feed, he was wide awake and while he was not crotchety when between them in the bed, as soon as she put him into his own bed, he started to fuss. She did try to just leave him, but in an inn full of other patrons, she could not allow her crying babe to disturb everyone else’s sleep.

  Eventually, after Jason had made up about twenty silly games which required him to hide behind his hands, a small portion of the sheet, Oscar’s own feet and various other objects close to hand, then say boo and appear in Oscar’s line of sight again, the small tyrant eventually started to nod off, with a slobbery smile on his sweet little face.

  Sophia adjusted his cap and moved him back to his makeshift cot. Jason was removing his shirt again, so she removed her shift. He caught her into a sensual and slow kiss then released her, his arms still loosely around her waist.

  “I apologise. I should let you get sleep for what is left of the night.”

  “I can sleep in the carriage.”

  “Hmm, stop tempting me.”

  “Tempting you to do what, my lord?”