The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories

by Lacoste, G. G.

  Mary Mine was a young woman who poverty had turned into a "lady of the night". She was notorious in London, not just for her occupation, but also for the alleged lesbianism, which she gladly participated in free of charge. The London rumour-mill spoke of a score of different female lovers who would come and go from the small house of Mary Mine, but in reality, the young woman only had one female lover; Anne Mayors. Mary and Anne had been friends from a young age and had begun experimenting with each other sexually at the age of sixteen. Both girls had lost their virginity to each other and it was not until Mary found herself in financial crisis that she spent a night with a man. Anne's first foray into heterosexuality came on that fateful night with Kenneth, during which he made her pregnant. Once learning of her pregnancy and the marriage, which her father demanded, Anne swore to herself that her days (or more accurately, nights) spent with women were over. She wanted to be a loving mother and a loyal wife and did not feel she could do that while continuing her secret affair with Mary Mine. For all nine months of her pregnancy, Anne managed to stay true to her promise and avoided Mary at all costs. However, once her baby was born and she returned to making love on a regular basis, the new mother found that Kenneth was not quite as good in bed as she had remembered him being. No matter how much she had grown to love her husband, Anne was an extremely sexual being and could not spend the rest of her life without experiencing another orgasm; and so she turned to Mary.

  For several months, Anne managed to keep her affair with Mary hidden from her husband. She would visit her secret lover only at night, long after her baby and Kenneth had fallen asleep. However, the month of February in 1817 marked the first anniversary of the death of Kenneth's mother and brought with it many sleepless nights for the orphaned son. In the lead up to his mother's anniversary, Kenneth reverted back to a grief stricken state and found himself waking up several times a night; sometimes he would be covered in sweat, once or twice he even had difficulty breathing. On one particular night, after his wife had escaped the confines of their marital bed, Kenneth was jolted awake following an unpleasant dream. It was one of those dreams, which absolutely terrify the subject as they, sleep, but was completely absent from their memory once they returned to the waking world. Kenneth sat up in the bed as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and briefly scanned the room for any hint of disruption or disturbance but failed to find anything amiss. The curtains rested undisturbed against the locked window, the bedroom door was shut tightly and his daughter was still sleeping soundly in her cot at the foot of the bed. Satisfied that everything was as it was supposed to be, Kenneth returned his head to his pillow and turned to face his wife. Whenever he was awoken by a frightful dream or unruly sound, the feeling of his arm wrapped around the beacon of heat that was his wife's body served to send him into a deep and peaceful slumber.

  On this night, however, Kenneth found no such beacon of heat waiting for him. The side of the bed, which usually contained Anne's sleeping body, was completely empty. At first, the sight of the cold space and un-creased mattress confused Kenneth. He was used to his wife always lying next to him and his mind raced as he searched for the appropriate reaction to the situation. At first, he considered the possibility that his wife had gone to brush her hair or perhaps she needed to make a bowel movement. No, both of those things seemed unlikely. There was no sense in brushing one's hair in the middle of the night and Anne was really more of a morning person as far as the latter was concerned. Worried for the wellbeing of his wife but still unsure of what to do, Kenneth left his bed and began to search through the house for the woman who wore his ring. The investigation, lit by a single candle, led Kenneth to the conclusion that his wife was no longer in their house. He also noticed that her long cloak had been removed from its spot on the stand at the front of the door, indicating that wherever she had gone, she had gone wilfully.

  Minutes after he discovered his wife's jacket was missing, Kenneth was standing on his neighbour's doorstep, holding his baby in one arm and using the other to knock loudly and repeatedly on the front door. The woman who lived in the house was an old spinster whom Anne would occasionally spend an afternoon with out of pity and an inexplicable sense of loyalty to the elderly. It was not out of the realm of possibility that Anne had decided to pay a visit to the ageing lady on that cold night; perhaps she had heard a ruckus and thought it necessary to check up on her neighbour.

  For several minutes, Kenneth's knocking failed to garner any response from the woman inside the house. However, the crying of little Daisy (who was not pleased to be awoken from her sleep) did manage to wake the sleeping spinster. Kenneth ceased his knocking once he heard the sound of elderly feet dragging towards the door. The woman spent several minutes fumbling unsuccessfully with the locks before a stroke of pure luck lead to her turning the right nob at the right time in order to open the door.

  "Ms’ Tricks" smiled Kenneth as he greeted the elderly homeowner.

  "Kenneth?" she asked groggily, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  "Yes, it's me, Ms’ Tricks. I just came by to see if my wife is here."

  "Why would your wife be here at this hour?"

  Kenneth stumbled over his words as he tried to respond. He wasn't sure why his wife would be at an old spinster's house in the middle of the night; frankly, he had been hoping the old spinster would be able to answer that for him.

  "I just thought I would check,” explained Kenneth, "you see I woke up and she was gone from our bed."

  "Oh, you had better find that woman soon, my boy,” warned Ms’ Tricks. She had been a great beauty in her day and she knew first hand how dangerous the streets of London could be for an unescorted young girl as pretty as Anne.

  "I know where you should look,” she added suddenly, remembering a conversation she had with Anne during her last visit. "That wife of yours told me once that she is a good friend of young Mary Mine, maybe she went to see her."

  "Mary Mine?" thought Kenneth. Anne had never mentioned any friendship with that woman before. If she had, Kenneth would have demanded she put a stop to it immediately; he did not want his wife to be associated with such and immoral and sinful woman. A large part of Kenneth wanted to believe that his wife had made the journey to Mine's house just to inform the woman of what a shameful existence she was living; then again, it didn't really seem necessary as Mary Mine had enough people telling her that every time she walked down the street. Then Kenneth was struck with a horrible thought; what if Mary Mine and his wife were business partners? What if the birth of Daisy had put more financial strain on his family than he thought and Anne had been forced to take to the streets just to earn some extra money? If that were the case, Kenneth doubted he would ever be able to look at his wife again. His infant daughter must have sensed her father's discomfort, as it wasn't long after he had these thoughts that Daisy began to cry once again.

  "Oh the poor dear" began Ms’ Tricks as she stretched out her arms to take the child. Though she had never produced any offspring of her own, Ms’ Tricks was great with children, especially babies. Almost as soon as she was safely in the arms of the old woman, Daisy stopped her crying and began to stare up at the wrinkled face of Ms’ Tricks, unsure of what to make of the ravages of time.

  "Oh, what a sweet little baby. She'll be Princess Regent someday".

  As much as he wanted to, Kenneth did not point out that, sweet as his little baby was, London would have to be on the brink of destruction before his daughter was in line for the throne. Instead, the proud father asked Ms’ Tricks if she would care to look after his child while he ventured to the house of Mary Mine in search of his wife. Of course, Ms’ Tricks was more than happy to oblige and Kenneth was soon on his way to the most infamous house in London.

  Chapter 3

  "You need to get away from your husband for good" Mary told Anne as she poured her a glass of cheap but drinkable wine.

  "I can't do that. I took a vow,” replied the wedded Anne.

  "Forge
t about vows, this is London. This is a different time. The King isn't even the King."

  Though Anne appreciated the opinion of her lifelong friend, she loved her husband and had no desire to leave him. All she needed was somebody on the side to give her an orgasm every now and then and her life was perfect.

  As Anne drained her glass, Mary lingered over her young lover. She was so close that Anne could smell the perfume she had doused her neck and wrists with. It mixed with the scent of the wine to create a strange yet strangely arousing aroma.

  "All done?" joked Mary as Anne lowered the glass from her lips. The sight of Anne's rouge lipstick on her glass excited Mary for in a moment the same lipstick would be covering the outskirts of her mouth. She slid two fingers beneath Anne's chin and raised the flawless face towards her. Anne trembled with anticipation. As Mary's lips slowly grew closer to her, the smell of her sweet breath made Anne’s nostrils dance with delight (if nostrils could indeed dance). Finally, that moment of connection came and Mary's soft lips pressed against Anne's, giving the married woman a sensation which she did not experience nearly as often as she would have liked. Anne's lips put up no resistance when Mary's tongue pushed through them and entered the young lady's mouth. Mary's tongue soon found the tongue of her partner and it wasn't long before both tongues were wrestling in a bout where it did not matter who won or who lost; the spirit of competition was its own reward.

  Anne could feel the slender fingers of her female lover run up her back, stopping only once they reached the buttons of her dress. Her heart began to beat faster and faster as one by one, the buttons of her dress were separated from their eyelets and the dress was completely undone. A cheeky smile formed on the face of Anne as she slid her long, skinny arms out of her dress before bringing it to her ankles and stepping out of it as if she were standing inside some spoke-less wheel. There was something about Anne's bare frame which made Mary Mine feel something no man had ever made her feel before. Anne's nude body seemed warm and inviting, as if it were calling her to lick it and caress it and just generally love it. Mary wrapped her arms around the perfect body before her and allowed her hands to come to rest on Anne's smooth, ideally formed rear. Whatever it was about Anne's love, it just made Mary feel right. Anne began to unbutton Mary's blouse, it should have been an easy task but it was made considerably more difficult by her clumsy fingers, which were shaking with excitement. She knew Mary was not wearing anything beneath that blouse and that those buttons were the only thing standing between her and immortality. Mary, having never been the patient type, could not wait any longer for her chest to be exposed. She needed the thrill of feeling her bare flesh pressed up against the bare flesh of Anne and so she swiped the delicate hands of her lover away and deployed all of her female might to tear open her own blouse, sending a dozen buttons scattering to the floor around her.

  While the buttons of her blouse (and the blouse itself) went to the floor, Mary's lips went to the breasts of Anne and she took the right nipple of her clandestine lover between her teeth. Anne's body trembled and she moaned with pleasure as Mary began to grind her teeth from side to side. What Anne was experiencing at this moment it not easy to describe. Some would argue that such an intense feeling of pleasure is impossible to put into words; but let it suffice to say that Anne was feeling something few people ever feel or make someone feel in their lifetime. She was feeling the kind of pleasure one can only experience when they encounter the perfect sexual partner. The one who knows exactly what to do and just how hard to do it in order to help their lover reach orgasm. While Mary did get Anne extremely close to an orgasm (as close as one can possibly be without actually having an orgasm), she did not manage to complete the process as the couple's lovemaking was interrupted by a sudden knock to the door.

  "Mary Mine!" called a voice from behind the door. "Open up right now!"

  "Oh no" muttered Mary. "It must be a love-struck client. Sometimes they get obsessed and come calling at odd hours." Anne advised Mary not to answer the door. She didn't want her childhood friend to fall victim to some crazed murderer. Highwaymen were running rampant at this time. Perhaps they had begun making house calls.

  "Mary Mine!" the voice came again. Whoever it was, he was angry and he certainly didn't seem like he was going to go away before the door was answered.

  "Mary Mine!" he called a third time, his voice louder and his fists hammering harder than both previous times. At this moment, Anne began to recognise the voice. It sounded an awful lot like her husband, though he wasn't one to shout or yell. The voice called for Mary Mine a fourth time and this time, Anne was convinced that the man on the other side of the door was indeed her husband.

  Without consulting her friend, Mary decided that her best course of action was to open her front door and confront the man. The door was made from weak wood anyway and could be easily kicked down if the man so desired. By greeting him voluntarily, Mary was only speeding up the inevitable and saving herself the expense of a carpenter and blacksmith. The man was still yelling and demanding for Mary Mine to open the door for him as the homeowner forced the key to turn in the rusted lock.

  "Yes?" she asked when she finally swung open the door. She was surprised to be greeted by somebody she did not recognise. Mary entertained a lot of clients at her home, but not so many that she couldn't remember all the faces.

  "Where is my wife?" demanded Kenneth while Mary still tried to put a name to the face. The enraged husband did not wait for an answer and jostled his way into Mary's home and stampeded into the dimly lit living room in search of his wife.

  "Anne!" he called over the sound of his thunderous footsteps. "Are you in..." Kenneth was stifled mid-sentence by the sight of his naked wife, clamouring desperately to hide her shame from the man she was married to.

  "What is the meaning of this?" yelled Kenneth, demanding his wife to answer him despite the tears, which were forming in her eyes.

  "Kenneth... I... I..."

  "Why are you here?" he asked, adding to the list of questions his wife was expected to answer. "Are you a prostitute? Is that how low you have sunk?"

  "No, Kenneth" his wife answered through her sobs, "no I'm not a prostitute."

  Anne's answer did little to ease Kenneth's mind and only served to send him into an even greater rage.

  "Well if you're not a whore, what are you? Why are you in this house and void of any article of clothing?"

  "I... I..." Anne began to stammer once again. She knew there would be no good excuse for the situation. Her only option was to tell her husband the truth, but he would surely be driven into a blind rage by her confession. He would divorce her. He would slander her name all over London. Worst of all, he would never allow her to see her own daughter again.

  "Well?" pressured Kenneth, interrupting his wife's thoughts with his insistence upon an answer then and there.

  "Kenneth, I don't know what to say" she began. "I'm... I'm..."

  "She's my lover,” said Mary as she entered the room. The lady of the night and woman of the streets had been standing in her hallway for much of the conversation between the husband and wife. She knew it wouldn't be appropriate to enter the room during such a pivotal moment in their relationship, but she was also aware that Anne was not strong enough to make a full confession of her own accord. If any progress was ever going to be made, Mary was the one who would have to break the news to Kenneth.

  Obviously, Kenneth reacted in the same manner in which any man in his situation would be expected to act; that is to say, he went into a state of panic and total denial.

  "Anne, I demand to know the real reason you are here. You are my wife and I expect you to tell me the truth." The anger, which had been so evident in Kenneth's voice just moments before, had been reduced to but a trickle. Now, both Anne and Mary could sense the desperation in his words. He was desperate to be given any other explanation as to why his wife was nude in the house of Mary Mine; and that meant any explanation. By this point, Kenneth would have bee
n happy to learn his wife had been whoring herself to every man in England's capital. As far as he was concerned, having a wife who was paid to have sex with other men was a great deal more acceptable than having a wife who cheated on him with a woman for free.

  "Anne, tell me the truth,” pleaded the near-heartbroken husband.

  Anne wiped a tear from her eye and sighed before telling her husband; "That is the truth. We're lovers."

  Again, Kenneth went into a state of denial. His heart began to race, his stomach began to churn and his brain began to pound as he did all he could to convince himself that his wife was not telling him the truth.

  "You're lying,” insisted Kenneth.

  "She's not lying to you, this is real." Mary found herself interjecting again out of necessity.

  "You're lying" Kenneth said again. He had long stopped sounding like an angry husband. His tone of voice was now closer to that of an orphan child. Once again, Mary sensed that no progress was being made. If Kenneth and Anne were ever to pass this endless cycle of truth and denial, she would have to take matters into her own hands for a third time; and she did just that.

  While Anne and Kenneth still argued over what was and what was not the truth, Mary made the brash decision to walk the dangerous trail which lead to Anne, take her face in her hands and kiss her as passionately as she had done in the moments before Kenneth's interruption. Kenneth was speechless when he saw Mary draw his wife's lips to her own, as was Anne; and not just because of the tongue in her mouth. For the briefest of moments, Kenneth was insulted by what was unfolding before his eyes. These feelings of negativity, however, soon gave way to more positive and relaxed emotions. What he was watching intrigued him. He had rarely seen two human beings kiss in the past, let alone two women. He couldn't quite explain it, but the sight of his wife engaging in such an intimate activity with another woman began to test his loyalty to Jesus, God and the standards of the day. Anne was also excited. The kiss of Mary was, in every sense, too powerful for her to pull away from.