Helena stepped out from behind the screen. Dr. Christopher suddenly appeared enlivened, a state that only increased his attractiveness. Helena understood her mother’s fascination with him.
He indicated a padded table, one end partly raised with a little pillow hung on the top edge. “Please lie down.”
She did. “Am I to put my feet here?” she said indicating the metal stirrup-like brackets.
“Yes. Please.”
He lifted her petticoats and cool air fanned between her legs, eliciting a new awareness of her body. He moved a chair and sat before her, looking attentively at the hair covering her privates, holding a jar of oil in his hands.
“I’m going to touch you here,” he said indicating the hair. He dipped his fingers in the oil, then lightly probed her.
Helena flinched, her knees reflexively smashed together.
“Relax, my dear. It is a new feeling, but you will come to like it very much. I’ll help you.”
He parted her knees, stroking them with a soothing gesture. He pulled up two leather straps on either side of the table, then wrapped and buckled them around each thigh, making sure they secured her comfortably. With her legs wide, she could watch as he spread her open. His fingers were gentle, practiced, as he smoothed the oil on one particular spot, the spot she had discovered herself not too long ago.
Helena cried out involuntarily. She flushed in embarrassment.
“Yes, that must be it.” He glanced up at her, an intensity in his blue eyes. He reached for a nearby hand mirror, then held it between her legs. “Watch while I touch you there.”
Helena watched Dr. Christopher’s finger as it stroked and glided across the very sensitive nub previously hidden under folds of pink flesh. She was fascinated by the sight, never having actually looked at herself since she only ever did the act at night in her bed under her sheets. She glanced back at the doctor’s face to see him gazing at her intimate area with admiration. Her own body was mired in a mass of confusing sensations and emotions. The familiar thrill was mixed with a bit of unease.
“Now, Miss Phillips,” he said taking the mirror away, “I want you to use your own fingers to do what I am doing to you. Choose either hand, whichever feels most comfortable.”
Helena reached down with her right hand. Dr. Christopher helped guide her fingers to the spot. She flinched again when she found the smooth nub.
“Just keep rubbing there, my dear. You’ll soon master the technique.”
She hesitated. The act had always been private and daring in its secretiveness. Now that she was to do it in front of someone, it suddenly seemed so improper.
“It’s really all right. It’s what you came here to learn.”
Helena touched herself slowly, her finger exploring the silky, oily area, causing a riot of thoughts and feelings to erupt inside her.
Dr. Christopher remained between her legs, now exploring the area just below. He gently pulled her open, then licked his lips. “I see you are a virgin.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, good. Now keep stroking, faster if you like.” He got up. “I’ll be right here with you.” He walked to the other side of the office, disappearing from her view.
Despite the invigorating pleasures coursing through her, the confusion in Helena’s mind lingered. She tried to concentrate on the movements of her finger, tried to focus on the physical, but her brain was distracted by the unusual circumstances. She drew in a breath and closed her eyes, willing herself to call up memories, very pleasant memories, one recent memory in particular.
She was in the garden again with Dr. Ramsay—Nicholas—kissing him, his arms wrapped around her, his hands clutching, massaging, kneading her back, her buttocks, her breasts. As their bodies undulated in a sensual rhythm, their breathing staggered unsteadily in unison. Nicholas’ mouth feasted on hers at the same time his quiet moans surrounded her, echoing behind her, the sounds sparking a tingling warmth, hearing his breaths come faster and faster, lifting her higher and higher until he emitted a clipped grunt, shaking her from her fantasy, leaving her empty, unfulfilled. Her touch no longer satisfied.
“I don’t know if I’m doing this right,” she cried out in frustration.
Dr. Christopher was at her side immediately. “Let me,” he said excitedly. “Close your eyes. Just feel.”
Helena settled against the padded table and closed her eyes. Nicholas came back, enveloping her once again, rubbing himself between her legs, like he had done in the garden.
“Take pleasure from my caress, Helena, my sweet,” she heard him say.
“Yes, oh, yes.” She writhed in his arms, the confusion once again rearing its ugly head, but with his guidance she was able to grasp at a sensation of spiraling upward, until she was at the top, the top of what she did not know, but she knew she should hang on, clawing and clutching so she would not fall—
“Let go, my darling.”
Yes, yes! She should let go and then she would shoot into the sky! Nicholas lifted her into the clouds, up, up, as she stretched her arms farther. Suddenly, like a firework she shot into the heavens, bright lights flaring before her eyes, the flares bursting into a million embers falling to earth—
She screamed.
“Shh, shh, Miss Phillips. It is all over now.” Dr. Christopher’s calm voice brought her back down to earth gently.
Helena drew in a deep breath.
“And did you find the experience soothing to your sensibilities?”
“Yes,” she had to admit. She did not feel the queer frustrations anymore.
“Good. Now do you think you can do that on your own?”
“Oh yes.” Of course, he didn’t know she already did. It was different this time, though. “Doctor, I thought of someone.”
“Really?” Dr. Christopher seemed very interested in this.
“Yes.”
“Was it one of the young men you’ve been spending time with?”
“Yes,” she acknowledged.
“That’s good, my dear.” His lips were still at her ear, his voice sultry and low. “Think of that young man when you pleasure yourself in your room at night. And at your next appointment, I will show you a far more exquisite method for achieving this blissful state.”
* * * * *
“Now, Mrs. Martin, you put that cream on your daughter’s bottom if she has any more rashes.”
“Yes, Dr. Ramsay. Thank you, Doctor.”
Nicholas had never realized he knew so much more about babies than the women who bore them. He also never knew how much he liked babies. They were wonderfully delightful even when they were bawling their tiny lungs out.
He showed Mrs. Martin out of the office and to the front door. He let out a sigh when the door closed, realizing he finally had time for his long-awaited afternoon cup of tea. He headed back to his office to ring the bell for Mrs. Jennings.
That’s when he saw Helena coming out of Dr. Christopher’s office.
She blushed crimson.
“Miss Phillips.” He managed to greet her amidst the pounding of his heart.
“Dr. Ramsay.” Her voice seemed breathless, dreamy.
He took in her form, gorgeous—as it always was—in a claret and blue-gray walking suit, her face enticingly flushed, feeling his own body flush in her presence. “Are you well?”
“I’m fine now. My mother suggested I see Dr. Christopher for—” She broke off, abashed.
Nicholas’ gut wrenched. He knew precisely what she had been sent to the doctor for. “Will I see you soon?” He tried desperately to keep the anger out of his voice.
“I do very much hope so, Dr. Ramsay.” She nodded her goodbye and blushed anew.
The second she was out on the pavement, Nicholas stormed into Dr. Christopher’s office.
“What the hell did you do to her?”
The doctor looked up from his paperwork. “I taught Miss Phillips how to masturbate,” he said clinically.
Nicholas felt sick to his stomach. “Yo
u scoundrel, using an innocent girl for your perverted sexual deviance.”
“It is most definitely not deviance, young man,” he shot back. “Experimentation, perhaps, but not deviance.”
“I’ve heard you and Grace in here and it is absolutely not the sounds of experimentation,” he hissed. “You’re fucking her, you cannot deny that.”
“Grace and I are experimenting with the frequency and type of orgasm experienced by women during various sexual acts. I’ve charted it all. You may look at my notes.” The doctor waved his hand casually in the direction of his bookshelf.
Nicholas clenched his fists to stop himself from throttling the conceited, cold-blooded villain. “I will not have you treat Miss Phillips in that corrupt manner,” he growled.
“Would you rather one of my far older and less nimble colleagues manually stimulate the girl? It is why her mother sent her to me. I am an expert in the treatment of hysteria.”
“Hysteria?!” he yelped incredulously. “Helena is not suffering from hysteria!”
Dr. Christopher narrowed his eyes. “‘Helena’? You are overstepping your bounds. She is your better, you fool.”
Nicholas wanted to scream at his colleague’s cool arrogance. “You cannot continue this, you simply cannot. If you do, you do not deserve the title ‘doctor’.”
Yet even threats could not sway the man. He sat unmoved.
“Dr. Ramsay, I do appreciate your helping me in my practice. I would like it very much if you would keep to your work and let me continue with mine. You are, of course, free to find another position in another office, as you choose. However, I will continue to have Miss Helena Phillips as my patient no matter what you do.”
“We’ll see about that.” Nicholas stomped out, rage tearing up his insides. He had to do something. He would do anything to save his beloved from such perversity.
Chapter Nine
“Oh God, Vinny. Oh—”
Kneeling before him, Lavinia took Nicholas’ cock deeper into her mouth until it touched the back of her throat. He was on the brink, ready to spend. He had been tense of late and definitely needed the release. She squeezed his butt cheeks and pressed him into her, fluttering her throat around his glans.
“Christ! You’re a bloody whore—”
It was rather amusing that he let loose with expletives whenever she did this to him. She loved sucking his cock—she loved everything they did together really, but this was the best she could do for him when she was having her courses.
His hands gripped the top of her head. “Yes, yes, yes—”
He was lost now, probably thinking about Helena. Lavinia didn’t mind that he fantasized about Helena’s lips wrapping around his prick, her tongue stroking his shaft. The likelihood of that ever occurring was slim, and if it did, that the girl would be as good as herself, even slimmer. All she cared about at that moment was making sure Nicholas was sated and relaxed.
She needed him in a good state of mind when she delivered the bad news she had for him.
“Arrgh!”
He jerked in climax. She held his hips steady, pressing her fingers into the taut muscles of his arse as she sucked the warm, salty ejaculate and swallowed every drop.
Nicholas staggered backward and flopped onto the bed, flushed and breathless, utterly spent. He chuckled and pulled her up to lie alongside him under the covers. “You are magnificent, Vinny. You are not making it easy for me to want to marry someone else.”
“Nonsense, Nicky. You know you would marry Helena Phillips in a heartbeat if you could.”
He was silent. He wrapped his arm more tightly around her, the heat of his body warming her chilled flesh.
“Darling, I’ve said something wrong, haven’t I?”
“No, love.” He kissed her hair. “It’s just that, well, I haven’t told you, because of your past with Julius Christopher.”
“Julius?” Lavinia propped herself up on her elbow. “What’s he done?”
Nicholas sighed. “He has taught Helena how to frig herself. Apparently, it was Sophia Phillips’ idea.”
“Well, good for Helena, then.”
“You don’t understand!” he blurted. “Look, Dr. Christopher gets, well, ‘aroused’ is the only way to say it, when he touches women intimately. Other doctors take it in stride as part of their work. Most of them think it’s not a sexual act anyway, and even if they do know the truth, they’re able to separate the act of physical stimulation for therapeutic release from an intimate act of lovemaking. Not your Julius, though. He likes his work far too much.”
Lavinia knew this. She’d known it for years. She had conveniently forgotten.
“Vinny, it makes me sick thinking of the beautiful, innocent Helena in his office and what he is doing to her.”
“I suppose it doesn’t help if I state the obvious, hmm?” She drummed her fingers on his chest. “That it was you who agitated the girl’s passions to the point of nervousness?”
“And she’s agitated mine but I’m allowed mistresses and masturbation because I’m a man?” he grumbled.
She ignored him. “Darling, if he has taught her how to pleasure herself, there will be no reason for her to continue visiting his office. Put it out of your mind. Or at the very least, take a scientific view of the matter. Next time you see Helena, mark if she is changed.”
Nicholas grunted.
Lavinia nuzzled against him as sweetly as she could.
He sighed. “Love, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have the grumps around you.” He tilted her face up to his and kissed her mouth. “Hmm, do I really taste like that? It’s positively wretched.”
That made her laugh.
“Thank you, Vinny,” he murmured. “You are the most wonderful lover a man could ever have.”
A comforting warmth bathed her at that. It would be far more difficult for her to bring up the bad news now. She would have to strategize.
“Let’s discuss your marriage prospects, shall we?”
Nicholas groaned.
“What about Emily Chambers? She’s very pretty.”
“Yes, I know.”
“And intelligent.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“And?”
“There’s no attraction with her, Vinny. I don’t think she feels anything for me either. It was all rather awkward right after we danced.”
“Well, there’s Penelope Hardcastle. She’s very friendly.”
“A little too concerned with fashion and gossip for my tastes.”
“But you’ve danced with her twice already at two different balls.”
“She’s a very good dancer.”
“That’s a good quality to have in a wife.”
“You’re a good dancer, darling. I wonder if it means Miss Hardcastle is as good as you are in bed?”
“Nicky!” Lavinia swatted the top of his head.
Nicholas laughed.
“It appears this conversation is going absolutely nowhere,” she admitted with a bit of annoyance.
“Look, Vinny, it’s just that I really don’t want any of them.”
Lavinia sighed. “Darling, if you want Helena you have to change your mind about your father.”
“I knew you were going to say that. And it’s probably too late anyway. And they only want my money, which is not unlimited, I must say.”
It was time. She could stall no longer. “Nicky,” she started gravely. “There’s something very important I have to tell you.”
He sat up at that, leaning against the headboard. “Lavinia, what is it?”
“It’s your father. And your brother. There’s been an accident.”
She heard his breath hitch in his throat. “What kind of accident?”
Lavinia gathered her courage. “Your brother was upset about some recent gambling debts. It seems that his creditors have not been too kind this time around.” She inhaled deeply to steady the quiver in her voice. “He got very drunk. Very drunk. And belligerent.” She met his eyes. “There was a gun—�
�
“Oh God. Not again,” he muttered.
The distress on his face constricted her heart. She turned away. “Jack shot your father in a blind rage. And then he turned the gun on himself.” She looked up at him again. “Nicky, Jack is dead.”
Nicholas stared blankly out the bedroom window into the fading afternoon light. “And my father?”
“He’s alive. The letter I received was from your old butler Mason, who had talked to the doctor. The earl is very sick. The doctor removed the bullet but it seems now there is an infection of the blood.”
“Sepsis,” Nicholas muttered darkly.
“Yes, that’s it.” Lavinia gazed up at him. “We both know what this means, Nicky. You need to see your father. Heal old wounds, so to speak.”
“Christ, that is the last thing in the world I want to do,” he said bleakly. “You know that, Vinny.”
“Yes. But, darling, you have a reason now.”
Nicholas remained silent, his lips twisting and trembling in concert with the struggle going on in his heart.
She took his hand in hers. “It makes no difference what your motives may be. If you do it so you can win Helena’s hand rather than make peace with your family, so be it.”
“I always thought if this happened, I would disclaim the inheritance. Bertie is next in line after me and he’s far more suited. He enjoys all the aristocratic pomp that I loathe.”
“Yes, I suppose. I hadn’t thought of that.” Bertie was the eldest son of the earl’s brother, George. The heroic Brigadier General George Atherley was elevated to the peerage posthumously as the First Viscount Ravensburgh for his valiant service to the queen during the Crimean War. At the tender age of five, Bertie had assumed his father’s titles and bore them with the maturity and gravity of a young man many times his age. Nicky was right. Bertie would take to being the new earl quite readily.
“And all the debt… I don’t think I could handle the responsibility.” His voice was thin, conveying the beleaguering weight of the daunting tasks before him.
“Yes, you can,” she reassured. “I can help.”
“Does he even want to see me?” He looked at her beseechingly.
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