The Baroness Affair

by Jean Wilde

  “Are you expecting someone?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am. I received a strange request a few days ago—a referral, if you will.”

  “I thought you no longer tutored the ladies of the haute ton in the art of seduction.”

  “I don’t anymore, but this was a special request from a friend—or rather a friend of a friend.”

  He studied her with some surprise. “You’re referring someone to me? Whatever for? I don’t tutor ladies, and their husbands would certainly not appreciate them learning anything from me.”

  Isabelle opened her mouth to reply when a knock sounded on the door, and the butler ushered a lady inside. Piers stayed in his position studying the newcomer as the Countess rose to greet her guest. His first impression was that of a very plain country lady. She was no debutante—he guessed her to be around twenty-six years of age. Everything about her seemed average: medium height, mousy brown hair, brown eyes, a small mouth, and a figure that was neither voluptuous nor slight. Even her dress was a simple lavender affair without a single ribbon or flounce in sight. If he’d met her on the street, he wouldn’t have spared her a second glance. Callous but true!

  Isabelle wasted no time in making the introductions. “Piers Benson, this is Lady Caroline Delaval, the Baroness Hastings from Newcastle. Her husband, Horatio Delaval, is Baron Hastings from Newcastle.”

  “My Lady,” he said, executing a perfect bow.

  The Baroness just stared at him, her lips parted with an almost comical look of disbelief on her face. Piers couldn’t help raising a mocking brow at her. “This is the part where you acknowledge the greeting, my Lady. A curtsy or a simple tilt of your head would suffice.”

  She closed her mouth with a snap and blushed furiously.

  “Don’t quiz her, Piers,” Isabelle scolded as she ushered her guest toward the sitting area. “No man should be allowed to be as handsome as you are. It’s simply not fair to members of the female sex.”

  His lips twitched. “Forgive me then, Lady Hastings, for having rendered you speechless.”

  Recovering from her stupor, the Baroness looked at him very directly. Her lips slowly curved upward, revealing a pair of charming dimples. The smile transformed her face completely, and Piers found himself revising his earlier opinion of the lady. With her countenance lit up, she could be considered passably pretty.

  “You’re forgiven, Mr. Benson,” she replied. “I suppose it’s not entirely your fault; Lady Digby should have given me fair warning.”

  Her voice was a deep contralto that Piers found pleasing. He grinned back at her. “Your look of wonder was enough to bolster my flailing ego. Please feel free to stare at me dumbfounded anytime you like.”

  Isabelle snorted. “Flailing ego, indeed! There’s barely enough room in here to fit you and your ego.”

  The Baroness laughed dispelling any lingering awkwardness and sat next to him on the settee. The three of them settled into several moments of small talk, discussing town news, the latest Season on-dits, and the weather. They were interrupted by the entrance of the Earl of Digby. His gaze narrowed slightly as he caught sight of Piers, but he shook hands with him and bowed politely over Lady Hastings’s hand.

  Isabelle rose and slipped her arm through her husband’s. “Pray excuse me, I have some things I’d like to discuss with Francis, and I’m sure you both have plenty to talk about as well.”

  She led the Earl out of the drawing room, leaving Piers alone with Lady Hastings. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them before he finally spoke, “So, I hear you were referred to Lady Digby by a mutual friend.”

  The Baroness nodded. “Yes, a childhood friend in Oxford is acquainted with the lady, and… well, she thinks you might be able to help me.”

  Piers rose and took a seat opposite her so that they were facing one another. “By all means, tell me how I can help. Please talk plainly; I do so hate beating about the bush.”

  “Very well,” she said, taking in a deep breath. She was quiet for a moment, and Piers was about to shift restlessly when her words came tumbling out in a rush, “I need you to help my husband give me a child.”

  Her unexpected answer took him aback. He simply stared at her for a moment, brows knit in confusion. Then he shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. Forgive me, Lady Hastings, but you have to elaborate more on that.”

  “I’ve never told anyone this before, well other than Lady Digby, and she’s assured me of your discretion. My husband’s tastes are…different than most men’s. While he adores me and would do anything to make me happy, we’ve had some challenges. We did try several times, you know, and some times were more successful than others. Recently, however, nothing seems to be working—”

  Piers held up a hand, interrupting her rambling speech. “Are you telling me that your husband likes men and is having a difficult time fulfilling his marital obligations?”

  She blushed hotly and nodded.

  Intriguing! Few ladies of quality seemed to be aware of the varied sexual appetites that existed in society. Curious, he asked, “Did you know of his tastes before your marriage?”

  Lady Hastings dropped her gaze from his and nodded again.

  Piers sat back and studied her for a long time. There were many men who simply had no interest in women. They married for the sake of appearances and as a cover to allow them to conduct illicit affairs. Their wives rarely knew, however, the reason behind their coldness in the marriage bed. This woman seemed aware of it all too well—in fact, she’d entered such a match with her eyes wide open.

  “Perhaps you ought to start at the beginning, my Lady,” he suggested.

  She gave a nervous chuckle. “It’s a rather long story.”

  “I have all the time in the world. Besides, I need to know more about the circumstances surrounding this proposal before agreeing to anything.”

  “Very well,” she mumbled, smoothing her hands over her lap. “I grew up in Oxfordshire. My mother died in childbirth along with the babe, so it was just my father and me. He was a scholar and tutored the sons of the local gentry. When I was old enough, he began including me in his lessons. As a result, I received an education far more suited to a gentleman than a lady. I was fluent in Greek and Latin but never learned to play the pianoforte or any other musical instrument. My water painting was abysmal, and my skills on the dancefloor were sorely lacking…I was not what you’d call an accomplished lady.”

  Piers chuckled. “True, but you sound far more interesting than the gently-bred, simpering misses of society.”

  She gave him a small smile before returning to her story. “My father sent me to his sister’s house in Northumberland when I was eighteen. He hoped that spending time with my female cousins and living around members of my sex would be a good influence on me. His heart was weak, and he wanted to see me settled.” Her expression turned sad as she continued. “He died two months later. After the funeral, I went back to my aunt’s house, no longer an esteemed guest but a poor relation.”

  He grimaced. “A most unenviable position. You have my sincerest condolences.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a laugh. “My aunt is married to a baronet, and she had high hopes for her four daughters’ marital prospects, too high if you ask me. She had no time to concern herself with mine. Her husband’s property bordered that of Delaval Hall, the country seat of Lord Blake Delaval, Baron Hastings. His son, Horatio, was away touring the continent, and my aunt was adamant that one of her daughters would make a match with him. He returned that summer, and we crossed paths when I went out riding and unwittingly trespassed onto Delaval property.”

  “I take it you ended up foiling your poor aunt’s carefully laid plans?”

  The Baroness nodded. “Poor Aunt Rosalind never did forgive me for catching Hori’s fancy.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “How did that relationship come about?”

  “I fell head over heels in love with him, of course. He was handsome, courteous, we
ll-traveled, and he had the liveliest sense of humor. We conspired to meet often, and soon, I became his best friend and confidante.”

  “He told you about his sexual preference?” he asked, disbelief coloring his tone.

  “Not right away, and he didn’t precisely tell me—I worked it out myself. I think he was relieved to talk to someone about it, once I’d confronted him with my suspicions. We’d been friends for close to a year, and he knew he could trust me implicitly. Then, there was the scandal.”

  “Ah, I knew this was going to be interesting. What scandal?”

  Lady Hastings sighed sadly. “Almost a year after I met Horatio, he began conducting an affair with a footman called Jonathan Miller. He was very discreet, but there were still whispers, of course. Horatio was twenty-eight years old, and other than his friendship with me, he had made no move to engage a woman’s affections. Rumors could be easily brushed aside but not blackmail. Miller had managed to extract large sums of money from Horatio, claiming he needed the funds to help his struggling family. The amounts were small at first and gradually increased as their affair progressed. Horatio was infatuated with his lover and showered him with gifts. His generosity was met with ingratitude, and the scoundrel decided extortion would be a faster means to bleed Horatio dry.”

  Piers winced in sympathy. “Horatio or his parents?”

  “His father. Miller told Baron Hastings all about his affair with his son and asked for a ridiculous sum of money in exchange for his silence.”

  “Quite the daring rogue! Did Hastings believe him?”

  “I think the late Baron had his suspicions, but he would never have given Miller’s claims any credence. He threw Miller out of his library and ordered him to pack his things and leave the mansion at once. I heard about this firsthand from Horatio, naturally.”

  “Naturally! So, how did the scandal come about?”

  “It’s strange how being the poor relation can be useful at times. The servants never seemed to notice me, or at least, they didn’t bother themselves with my presence. I was with my aunt and cousins paying a call on Lady Hastings on the afternoon of a ball she was hosting. It was during that visit when I stumbled across a malicious plot. Even though he’d been dismissed at the time, I overheard Miller talking to a servant. They were scheming to entrap Horatio in a compromising position during the ball that evening. I couldn’t let that happen. I tried to find Horatio and warn him, but he had ridden into town that morning. So, I made it my mission to stop their diabolical plan from unfolding. I must’ve seemed ridiculous that night, hounding Horatio the way I did. However, I refused to let him out of my sight. Suddenly, I saw him disappear into his father’s study. When no one followed, I slipped in after him. That’s when I saw…” She left the sentence hanging and shifted uncomfortably.

  Piers waved for her to continue. “Go on, you’re just getting to the exciting part.”

  “They were kissing,” she blurted out in a rush, “and Miller had his hand wrapped around Horatio’s bare…um, member.”

  Piers chortled. “Oh, my poor Lady Hastings. Were you completely scandalized?”

  “I was mortified, but I had no time to think! I was sure that at any moment the other servant would lead someone into the study to discover the two of them in this scandalous position. No one could misinterpret that scene. I did the first thing I could think of: I rushed forward, shoved Miller to the side, threw my arms around Horatio, and kissed him.”

  He smiled at the image she painted and murmured, “Clever girl.”

  “In any case,” she continued, “Horatio had no time to protest because just then the study door opened, and his parents walked in with a couple of other guests. Miller had skulked off somewhere, and all eyes were on us. Luckily, my skirts hid Horatio’s state of undress long enough for him to put himself to rights. After that kiss, however, I was effectively compromised in the eyes of society. Horatio—being the gentleman that he is—announced to his parents that their timing was impeccable as I had just consented to be his wife. Horatio’s father was ecstatic at the news, and despite Horatio’s mother’s outraged protests, the ball quickly turned into an impromptu betrothal party.”

  Piers sat back digesting Lady Hastings’s incredible story. She piqued his interest considerably, and he found that he wanted to help this intriguing woman. Good deeds ought to be repaid with goodness every once in a while. “So, what is it that you propose? Do you wish to pay me to be your husband’s lover? If so, I’m not quite sure how that would help you conceive a child.”

  Her cheeks turned crimson and she cleared her throat before replying. “I know that the French sometimes engage in what they call a…ménage à trois.”

  He smiled wickedly at her. “Oh, my dear Lady, it’s not just the French who engage in those, I can assure you.”

  “Yes, well, I thought something like that might work.”

  Piers paused for a moment then slowly nodded. “It might, but you’d need to set clear boundaries for such a thing. For example, what are your expectations or limitations?”

  “Boundaries,” she repeated softly. “Yes, of course, that does make sense. Give me a moment please, I’ve never really considered…”

  The Baroness rose from the settee and began to pace, worrying her lower lip as she thought hard about her response. He sat calmly, watching her. He feared any sudden movement on his part would send her flying out the door.

  Finally, she stopped and turned to face him. “I wish to engage your services for six months. You’ll return to Delaval Hall with me as the new architect I’ve commissioned from London to help restore the West Wing. There was a fire a couple of years ago, and that part of the house was almost completely destroyed. It’s the perfect cover story. You will, uh…join my husband and me in our marriage bed…regularly! I’m no expert on such matters, but I do believe that increased coupling will improve my chances of conceiving.”

  “A canny observation,” he agreed with a deadpan expression.

  “If I haven’t got with child within six months,” she continued, “we can discuss extending the contract.”

  “Typically, I would never agree to such a lengthy arrangement. I can appreciate, however, the need for time. If at first we don’t succeed, we must try and try again. How much are you willing to pay for my exclusive services?”

  When she rattled off a more than generous figure, he raised his brows in surprise. “You must be very eager to have a child.”

  Her answering sigh was filled with longing. “You have no idea how much I want Horatio’s child. How much I need his child. His mother… The rumors...” she trailed off before straightening. “That’s another thing I need to stipulate. Under no circumstances are you to have intercourse with me. Your job is to stimulate and satisfy my husband so that he can get me with child.”

  Her stipulation amused him but he didn’t object. Instead, he replied, “And do you plan on playing the martyr, my Lady? Are you just going to lie like a dead fish the entire time?”

  Her brows creased in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  Piers shot to his feet and closed the distance between them. He bent his head and whispered softly in her ear, “I’ll take it as a personal affront if I don’t hear your moans of pleasure along with your husband’s while I’m in bed with you. My clients’ satisfaction is something I take very seriously.”

  He felt her shiver and smiled to himself. He slowly backed away from her toward the door and said, “I accept your terms, Lady Hastings. I shall prepare myself for travel… and await your pleasure,” he added with a wink.

  Chapter 3

  Caroline still couldn’t believe she was doing this. Never would she have imagined herself to be so bold as to approach a male prostitute nor to engage his exclusive services to seduce her husband into her bed in order to get her with child. To an outsider, it would undoubtedly seem a ludicrous scheme or, at the very least, shockingly scandalous. But for Horatio she was willing to do anything.

  Luckily, C
aroline had had no trouble convincing her husband to allow her to visit London. She’d told him she wanted to do some shopping and to meet a few friends who were there for the Season. He’d offered to accompany her, but it had been a halfhearted suggestion, one she’d easily talked him out of. She’d invited her oldest cousin, Jane, to travel with her more as a companion than a chaperone. Satisfied with her preparations for the journey, Horatio had given her a bank draft to take to his bank in London and sent her on her way.

  Caroline’s appointment with the Countess of Digby had been the sole purpose of her trip to the capital. Jane hadn’t even lifted a brow when she’d announced over breakfast that morning that she was calling on a friend in Mayfair. She’d merely asked if Caroline wanted company, and when she’d declined saying that she planned on taking her lady’s maid instead, Jane had nodded and turned her attention back to her meal.

  After the successful conclusion of her meeting with Piers Benson, Caroline paid a call on Lady Digby’s discreet solicitor to have a contract drawn up. Satisfied that Mr. Cullen would deliver the contract to The Scarlet Salon himself, she returned to the hotel.

  Caroline wasn’t kept in suspense for long, as the very next day she received the signed document back from the lawyer—all was in order. Her first impulse was to return to Newcastle immediately, but upon further consideration she decided against it. It would be prudent of her to do some actual shopping and to take Jane around town a bit. Her cousin had visited London when she’d made her come out around seven years ago. Caroline, on the other hand, had only been to the capital once as a little girl. So, neither of them really knew where to begin. Lady Digby proved to be, yet again, a godsend! She showed up unceremoniously at their hotel, having apparently decided to take them under her wing. They visited all the sites and attractions in town including the galleries, the Tower of London, Vauxhall Gardens, and the opera. They went riding in Hyde Park during the fashionable hour and shopped at all the modiste shops on Bond Street.

  After almost three weeks in town, Caroline began to grow restless and eager to return to her husband. Poor Horatio had seemed so downcast over the past several months. Managing the estate was a laborious task, made even harder when he’d had to fire his competent, yet dishonest, steward. The odious man had been doctoring the books for years, and it was only after the old Baron had died from a stroke six months back that Horatio had finally realized the reason behind the missing funds. He needed someone to help shoulder his burdens, or at the very least, to provide some relief. With renewed determination, she instructed her abigail to begin packing and drafted a note to Mr. Benson.