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Lady Mariel's Scandalous Love: Regency Romance (Regency Scandals Book 2)

Page 6

by Arietta Richmond


  Mariel felt her cheeks heat. This was ridiculous!

  “Botheration! There is no polite way to ask this, and I don’t even have the right words to do the asking! Let me attempt to be blunt. Gently reared young ladies are not taught the words, either colloquial or scientific, for certain most private body parts, especially those of gentlemen. Grandmothers do not teach their ten-year-old granddaughters the Russian words for such things either. And, as if that did not make things hard enough, then we must consider the… objects… which may be used in sexual activity – objects which everyone never whispers of to a woman, let alone names!”

  Dash stared at her for a moment, his expression slightly stunned, and his cheeks darkening with a blush as he thought through what she had said, and realised the implications. Then, slowly, a wide, wolfish smile spread across his face, and his eyes danced with amused delight. Mariel felt inclined to hit him, at that moment, and that desire did not abate one whit when he burst into laughter.

  She sat there, glaring at him, but feeling the increasing urge to join him in that laughter.

  It was, truly, all very silly after all, no matter how frustrating it was. From the other side of the room, Selina’s giggle joined Dash’s laughter. At that, Mariel lost all control of her stern glare, and joined them. Laughing felt good, after hours of irritation.

  After some time, they all managed to regain their calm. Dash met her eyes, that rather cheeky amusement still very much in his expression.

  “I can, quite, see how that would be limiting. What shall we do about it?”

  “I thought… that is, I assumed… that, as a man, and a man who collects things like…” she waved her hand at the book, “…like this, you most likely know the words for almost, if not all, of the things that I don’t. I can work out, from the illustrations, and from the text that I can translate, approximately what is being referred to – I just need the English word, to write down. So I thought…”

  “…that I might go through it with you, and tell you the words?”

  “Yes.” She felt herself blushing hotly again. “But I suspect I will have to describe to you, as best I can, the function or activity being described, to make sure that you tell me the right word.”

  He met her eyes. Nervous, and utterly discomposed, she licked her lips. He watched, and something shifted in his expression. He looked away.

  “I will do my best, Mariel.”

  Chapter Seven

  When he had walked into the room, and asked about her progress, Dash had expected that Mariel might express doubt about being able to complete the translation – for it was a mammoth task, and dealt with subject matter which might reasonably be expected to give a young woman pause. He had not, in any way, expected the answer that she had given.

  Yet it was a reasonable difficulty for her to have encountered – one he should have expected, if he had thought about it. Now, here he was, sitting dangerously close to her, having just agreed to work with her, to give her words – words which should not be spoken to a lady. Everything in his education as a gentleman rebelled at the idea. But at the same time, every part of him felt a rush of arousal at the very thought. When she had licked her lips, heat had rushed through him, and gone straight to his groin.

  Reading the works in his collection, alone, and imagining what he might do with a woman, was one thing.

  Sitting beside a most desirable woman and discussing such things was quite another.

  But he wanted that book translated. And, truth to tell, whilst he expected that there would be moments of embarrassment, he was not displeased with the situation. He had found himself, as the days passed, making excuses to come into this room, ostensibly to check on progress, but in reality, simply to see Mariel. She fascinated him.

  He had known many women, and his collecting had led him to many strange places, and into unexpected conversations – but in most cases, if those conversations were with women, the women were jaded widows, or skilled courtesans, or sometimes the cheapest of whores – never had they been with unmarried women of the nobility. And the very idea of speaking those words that she wanted, to a woman like Mariel, was shocking, and utterly arousing.

  She was arousing, just by being herself. Her bluntness and her interest in sexuality intrigued him, as no delicate flirting ever had. He had long assumed that, when he did eventually marry, his wife would disapprove of his collection, and not wish to even think about such things, let alone discuss them, or even more shocking, indulge in such activities as his collection recorded. Now, after meeting Mariel, the tiniest seed of hope had been planted – was it possible that he might find a woman to marry, who did not turn away in revulsion? Who, perhaps, even welcomed the attentions of a man well versed in the extremes of erotica, and wished to apply that knowledge, and those tools, to her body?

  The scent of her surrounded him, intoxicating, disordering his thoughts.

  He looked at her, and she licked her lips again. His mind imagined those lips on his body, that tongue tracing the shape of his cock, and he was, instantly, so hard as to be acutely uncomfortable.

  “Thank you. Do you… have time to start now? It would help immensely if I had even a few of the most basic words for… bodily parts, and understood the context in which different words might be used.”

  Dash forced his mind away from the scenes which his imagination had conjured, and back to the book on the desk.

  “I do have some time available, yes.”

  The crate that he was part way through unpacking could wait. It was full of dilettos of various shapes and sizes, and some other small items for pleasurable adornment of a woman’s body. Just the memory of what he had already unpacked that day brought another image to his mind – Mariel, bared to his gaze and his hands, moaning in pleasure as he used one of those dilettos on her. He stifled a moan, and swallowed hard. He should not allow himself to imagine such things, he could not! But his mind rebelled.

  She had turned her attention back to the book, and her translation, and was turning pages, finding the first passage to ask him about. He wanted to lean towards her, to taste her neck, just below her ear, to taste all of her. This was, he suspected, going to be the hardest few hours of his life so far – in more ways than one.

  “Ah, here is the first passage.” She pointed at a page. “Here – this is about ordinary intercourse – but what English word should I use to describe the man’s member, here?”

  Aching. Rock hard. In need of relief.

  No, no, no. he must focus on the translation.

  Dash looked at the page where she had written her English translation, and read the passage through to the point where she had left a space to insert the missing word. He swallowed.

  “Ahh… if we assume that the whole book is more scientific, one would use ‘penis’ but if we assume that it is more colloquial, more easily accessible as a manual for the common man, we would probably say ‘cock’.”

  An odd thrill ran through him, at saying such words to a young woman who was an innocent, at least of the physical aspects of what they discussed. It was most odd – he had always sworn that he would not be corrupting innocents, yet here he was, imagining doing just that – because she was, in every other way, so very much not innocent at all.

  She put pen to paper, and inserted the word in the correct spot.

  “Excellent. Now, let me find the next difficult word.”

  And so it was for the next two hours. His aching cock got no relief, for every time that he thought he had managed to concentrate simply on the mechanics of finding the right words, they would come to a new passage where the content was erotically stimulating enough to set his imagination running wild again, and his body responding to those thoughts. After two hours, he could take no more.

  “Mariel, I appreciate your dedication… but shall we stop for now? I feel that some tea would be in order, and a break from this intensive… thinking.”

  She looked up, and ran her tongue over those soft pink lips a
gain. Desire ran through him, harder than ever. He had thought himself inured to erotica, after so many years collecting, but in Mariel’s presence, it was as if it was all new to him, again.

  “Of course. I am so sorry – I become rather obsessed when doing something like this. And you likely have other things you should be doing as well. But I am grateful – now I have words for a number of places. And it will make the rest easier. But… will you be able to give me some time like this, every few days?”

  Dash swallowed hard. What she suggested would be the most exquisite torture.

  “Of course I can, Mariel. After all, you are translating this as a favour to me in the first place.”

  He was mad. He had not ever thought himself one to enjoy pain, in a sexual context, but sitting beside Mariel, doing this, rather qualified as doing exactly that. He would endure – somehow.

  ~~~~~

  Once Selina and Mariel had departed for the day, Dash took himself to his chambers, and called for a bath. He lay back in the heated water, and closed his eyes, letting his imagination run wild, revisiting all of the images that had plagued him throughout the afternoon by Mariel’s side. He suspected that Selina had been well aware of his discomfort, and amused, but Mariel had been so focussed on the translation that he doubted she had realised just what effect she was having on him.

  Although, her cheeks had reddened multiple times...

  Now, with the warm water to soothe him, he indulged himself in those thoughts again, and brought himself to completion, relieving the painful pressure of hours. It was, he thought, one of the most intense releases he’d ever had. When, near eight years before, he had found his first diletto in a small Italian shop, he could never have imagined where it would lead. Now, his life revolved around his collection.

  And, comically, for a man with a house overflowing with erotic books and objects, he had not been with a woman since returning to England. He had dealt with his own needs, for there was no one with whom he might safely indulge himself without risk of scandal. Still, when he put his collection on display, scandal would find him, regardless, he supposed.

  Once he had finished bathing, and Del Monte had dressed him for dinner, he went down to his study. While he waited for dinner to be announced, he intended to do some planning. It had come to him that morning, whilst he lifted polished implements of pleasure from a crate, that the only possible way in which the collection could be managed, long term, was by actually buying, or leasing, a building in London, just to house it. It was too large to reside here, in the East Wing, as a permanent thing, and, for his family’s sake, it would be better at some distance from the ancestral residence.

  So – he needed to decide where, in London, might suit, to determine how large a building he would need, to set his man of business to finding such a building, and to plan the exact process that would be required to transport things, set them up, and launch the ‘Museum of Human Eroticism’ appropriately.

  He drew out a sheet of paper, and began to make notes.

  He was sure that, once his Museum was established, in a suitably discreet location, there were many men of the ton who would wish to see it – some might even bring their wives, or more likely their mistresses.

  ~~~~~

  Mariel made excellent progress on the translation over the next few days – having even a few of the necessary words made it much easier. But, when she came to a new chapter of the book, which seemed more focussed on the use of objects to provide pleasure, she found herself struggling to translate, again. This time, it wasn’t just the need for a word to call the things, it was also the need for words to describe their physical construction, appearance, what they felt like to touch and more.

  When she arrived back at Fortescue Grange after an annoying few hours, she had an idea. She had not spent much time in the Fortescue Grange library since starting to translate Dash’s book – and she hadn’t been back to the secret room, or mentioned it to anyone – well, apart from the indirect reference to Dash, that first afternoon when they had talked. And she had promised, then, to mention it to Alex, to see if she might tell Dash about it.

  It was time to explore it further. For the objects she had seen in there now made far more sense to her, after what she had translated so far. If she handled them, it would help her describe such things in her translation. After dinner, she took a lantern, and went to the library, leaving Selina and Alex in the parlour.

  Selina watched her go with a shake of her head, and a laugh at Mariel’s obsessiveness.

  In the library, she went straight to that narrow space between the shelves, then pushed and twisted the mechanism to open the secret door. As before, she stacked books in the doorway, that it might not accidentally trap her, and then went in. The narrow room was exactly as she had left it, the dust only disturbed by her feet and hands. She wondered how long it had been, before she’d found it, since anyone had been through that door – a long while, she suspected.

  She pulled open the drawer which, she remembered, contained the collection of beautifully carved representations of the male member. Carefully, she selected one and lifted it out, turning it over in her hands and studying it. Her mind went back to a passage that she had been working on that afternoon, which contained instructions on the way in which a man could apply one of these to a woman. Heat filled her at the memory, and her hands caressed the ivory she held, imagining it in the hands of a man, imagining that man taking it, and applying it to her most private parts. Her imagination was vivid, but what startled her was that, in her mind, that man bore Dash’s face.

  She felt heat pool between her legs, and dropped onto that spindly chair again. She stared at the object she held, unseeing, as her mind replayed illustrations from the book, and text from the book. What had she translated, just the day before? A passage about a woman sucking and licking such a thing, ‘as she would a man’s cock’ to moisten it before it was thrust within her. She lifted the ivory device to her lips – it seemed so large… the thought aroused her, utterly, and she shivered, then replaced it in the drawer.

  Oh, she envied Selina! But… did Selina know about things like this? Did she… had she… Mariel left the thought unfinished. Wondering was pointless. She needed to ask Alex about this room. Needed to clear her thoughts, and focus only on its value in assisting her with the translation. That she was imagining doing scandalous things, and imagining the man she did that with to be Dash was beyond inappropriate. She was translating a book for him! There was nothing more to it – he had certainly done nothing to encourage such imaginings on her part.

  She made a decision, immediately – she would go and ask Alex now. Or perhaps, simply show him, and see how he reacted. She stood, closed the drawer, lifted the lantern, and left the room, removing the books and shutting the door.

  Back in the parlour, Alex and Selina looked at her curiously, noting the dust on her gown.

  “Alex, Selina, I would like to show you something. Will you come to the library with me?”

  “This sounds mysterious – have you found another book in Russian? Or something even more intriguing?”

  Selina had risen, eagerly, and come towards her. Alex followed, apparently happy to indulge his wife’s curiosity.

  “You must come to see it – I will not tell you here.”

  “Lead on then.”

  Alex waved a hand, and Mariel turned, and went. Back in the library, she led them directly to the narrow space between the shelves.

  “Take care – this space is very narrow, and the books are dusty.”

  “What on earth? I don’t think I have ever tried to squeeze in here – it goes nowhere but the wall, and I have not bothered to look at these books.”

  Mariel laughed, rather delighted to discover that Alex knew nothing of the secret room.

  “Just squeeze in here with me, you’ll see in a moment.”

  Selina and Alex exchanged a puzzled glance, and followed her. Once she reached the end, Mariel held the lantern u
p, so that the light shone clearly on the appropriate piece of wall.

  “Watch closely now.”

  She reached out and pushed the piece of carving in the required way. The wall obediently came open and, as Alex gasped in shock, she pushed the door wide.

  Chapter Eight

  “Selina, hand me some books – I prefer to block the door, in case it closes on me. I don’t want to be trapped.”

  Selina did as asked, and once the books were in place, Mariel led them into the room. Alex glanced about, then turned to Mariel, shaking his head in wonderment.

  “I thought that I knew every nook and cranny of this house! I spent so much time exploring it as a child, I never imagined that there might be something still hidden from me. But… what is in here, that someone, my grandfather, I suspect, felt the need to hide so thoroughly?”

  Mariel silently pulled open the drawer full of carved replicas of male members, and waved Alex forward. Selina stepped up beside him.

  “Oh my! So many! And so perfectly carved.”

  “Every single thing in this room has erotic purpose, so far as I can tell.”

  Alex met Mariel’s eyes.

  “Everything?”

  “I believe so… although… there are items that I do not, exactly, know the intended use of – but I can imagine some possibilities…”

  Alex laughed at her expression, which she knew was compounded of annoyance and fascination.

  “I am sure that you can! After all, you have been working on that book for Dash. But… how did you find this?”

  “I had been through almost every part of this library, except the narrow space which leads to this room. So I came in here one day, to the wall we just came through, and when I tried to reach up to the top shelves out there, I lost balance. I saved my lantern with one hand, and grabbed desperately at the wall and shelves with the other, trying to stop myself from falling. My hand must have landed on the exact spot required to open the door, for it opened, and I tumbled to the floor in the doorway, barely saving the lantern in the process. I did wonder whether you knew of this. For some time, I hesitated to ask you, in case you did, and had not told me of it for some particular reason. But then, I considered the depth of the dust in here, and decided that I should ask you.”

 

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