by Lavinia Kent
“I think we are fine,” he said after a moment.
“Madame will join you shortly. She is almost finished upstairs.” He leaned toward Duldon and whispered, “Apparently a gentleman was visiting with two women and one of them, a lady, was not happy with the arrangement. I believe she wished to be the center of attention.”
“Two women?” Bliss could only mouth the words behind the porter’s back.
With the slightest quirk of his lip, Duldon nodded over the porter’s head.
How would it work with two women? She was old enough to have heard the married women talk and growing up with her family she’d had plenty of experience seeing what rabbits and llamas did, even if they had sheltered her from the horses, but two women? She considered her educational experience at the ball earlier in the week, but still drew a blank. Two women? Could she bring herself to ask Duldon?
The porter left and Duldon poured the tiniest splash of brandy into a glass for her.
She shook her head.
“Take it. You may be glad of it later,” he said.
Before she could argue, the door was pushed wide and a woman entered, a woman such as Bliss had never seen.
Tall and with more curves than a basket of billiard balls, the woman was dressed in deep violet with an edging of black ribbon and lace, her waist nipped far narrower than Bliss had ever seen. Her hair was so red as to be almost flaming. It was caught up slightly, but most of it was curled in a becoming manner about her shoulders. Bliss’s hair only looked like that after a very restless night when she’d been tossing and rolling back and forth across her pillows. Only it wasn’t the woman’s hair, was it? It was a wig. Bliss wasn’t quite sure how she could tell, but there was something not quite right about the wild hair above the face’s gentle features. The features, particularly the eyes and mouth, were obscured by heavy cosmetics, but Bliss could see through them to the softness underneath.
The woman stopped and considered the two of them for a moment, and then a wide smile lit the shining crimson lips. “Hello. I am Madame Rouge, but please call me Ruby. And who are you, my dear child?”
Chapter Six
Duldon should have known that despite the cloak and mask Ruby would know Bliss for a woman. Ruby had always understood everything, even that which one wished to remain hidden, within a moment of examining the situation. He sighed inwardly. Yes, he should have thought this whole endeavor out much more clearly. His mistake was a sign of how Bliss fogged his thoughts.
Bliss opened her mouth to answer, but shut it at his glare.
“My companion wishes to remain anonymous. I trust that is not a problem?” he said, directing his question to Ruby.
Ruby chuckled, deep and throaty. “Is it ever? I’d be out of business in a week if I bothered to find out who makes use of my beds.”
“I imagine that is true,” he answered. Of the women he’d met with here, only a scant few had revealed their identities, and those that did had taken a long time to do so. Few London ladies would ever admit to finding their pleasure at Madame Rouge’s.
“Now, Simms said that you had a special request.” Ruby’s gaze shot to Bliss, who sat still, holding the brandy but not sipping.
“Yes.” He gestured her out of Bliss’s earshot. “My young companion is curious and would like to see what happens here. Do you have anybody who is interested in being watched?”
“Only watching?” Ruby glanced at Bliss again, noting the nervous tapping of her foot.
“Yes, she is young and does not know…”
“She does not look that young. Innocent perhaps, but not young. You know I am not happy when the girls—or boys—are too young.”
“And yet you permit it?” Duldon had always wondered about this.
Ruby sighed. “I try not to. I do everything I can to discourage it, but I would rather such things happen in a safe environment than in some dark hovel. And you know I only allow willing participants—and even so there are times when I just cannot stomach it.”
Duldon could only shake his head. He understood Ruby’s point, but he’d always had an intense dislike of men who targeted children. “We are straying from the subject. Is there anyone here tonight who might interest us?”
Nibbling on her lower lip, Ruby considered. “The Binkshaws are here tonight. I don’t mind using their name given that they love to be watched, that it gives them a special thrill. I do believe Mrs. Binkshaw, especially, loves running into those who have watched her when she’s out in society.”
“Truly, the Binkshaws? I cannot even imagine. They seem so proper.”
Ruby smiled. “You of all men should know that how people appear and how they are is not always the same thing.”
Duldon could only nod his agreement. “Anyone else?”
“How innocent is your companion?”
“What are you suggesting?”
“There are two gentlemen who also enjoy being observed, although I will have to warn them first. They do prefer masks if they know the peepholes may be opened. There are some things one does not want society to know.”
Turning, he stared at Bliss and considered. “I think that might be a possibility. I would give the gentlemen a warning if I were you. I cannot promise, but we shall see.”
“I am sorry that I don’t have anything more adventurous to offer you this evening.” Ruby laid a hand upon his arm.
“That is quite understandable. I know that it is not one of your specialties. And I must say that as a patron, I do find it reassuring to know that nobody is ogling without my permission.”
“Except myself, of course,” Ruby added with a slight grin. “You know that I do keep an eye on things—although I must confess I am not much concerned with you, my lord. Never have I heard a complaint—and from what I’ve seen there’s definitely a reason for that.” Her gaze fell to the front of his trousers.
Fighting a blush of his own, he jerked his chin in acceptance of her remark. “I do try to always leave my partners with a smile.”
“And a red ass, I reckon.” Ruby turned to stare again at Bliss. “And her? Will you be requiring your usual room later in the evening?”
Duldon could only shake his head, then against his better judgment the words slipped out. “She’s Swanston’s sister. The Countess Ormande had promised to bring her here and it seemed the wiser course of action to take her myself than to allow her to attempt entry on her own—and I know that she would have tried if necessary. I would not tell you, except that I trust you to help keep her safe should anything happen. I cannot imagine leaving her alone for an instant, but…”
Ruby’s lips pressed tight in consideration, the strangest of expressions crossing her face, and gave a short nod. “I assume her brother does not know. No, I can see from your face that he does not. You can trust in my discretion as always. I do believe that I had heard you were pursuing the girl with marriage in mind, assuming that it is the correct sister you have brought with you. Swanston does have a number of them. I would not have thought she shared your tastes.” She cast a speculative look at Bliss and he could see that far too much was whirling through her mind.
“I do not know what her tastes are—I doubt that she does. But, yes, marriage is my goal,” he answered. “I am working to persuade her of the wisdom of the match.”
“You have an interesting way of handling that. But then I imagine that you brought her here to see if she has an interest in…?”
“No,” he cut her off. “I plan for her to be my wife, not my…”
This time Ruby stopped him with a held up hand, her lips quirking up. “I listened to this foolishness from Swanston. I do not need to hear it again. I will leave the door to the secret hall open once I have talked to the gentlemen in question. I will trust you not to look through any but the peepholes I specify. And there will be a room available should you need it. No, I know you don’t, but you never know when the young lady may need to freshen up. Simms can tell you which room it is.”
; He nodded. “Thank you.”
“Now, why don’t you and your young friend finish your drinks and then I will have Simms come and fetch you.” Ruby turned and strolled from the room with a sway of her magnificent hips.
He strolled back across the room to Bliss. She lifted her head, eager to hear about the coming adventure.
Bending low, he described what would happen, what they would see, what they would do. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of her skin as his lips paused inches from her delicate ear. She’d left off perfume. Did she think it made her smell any less feminine? His body would certainly disagree. There was nothing like the honest smell of woman.
“The Binkshaws?” she asked, her breath caressing his cheek. “I don’t know how I feel about watching somebody that I know. And I have a very hard time picturing Mr. Binkshaw doing…Isn’t he a little portly?”
“I’ve never heard that to present a problem.”
—
Bliss wasn’t sure she would ever pull her eye away from the peephole. It should have been disgusting. Well, it was kind of disgusting, but it was even more fascinating—and also strangely erotic. It had taken her a few moments to find the courage to peek in, unsure if she could watch such a thing with Duldon in attendance, but from the moment she’d put her eye to the opening she’d been captured. If anyone had ever told her that watching the Binkshaws have marital relations would be erotic she would have fallen to her knees in laughter. Even the thought of Mr. Binkshaw without clothing would have caused her to chuckle. But she would have been very wrong. Not that he wasn’t portly with an out-of-proportion belly, but somehow none of it mattered as she watched him with his wife. Every glance he gave her, every touch bespoke years of caring and tenderness.
And Mrs. Binkshaw was a story by herself. It was clear that she must once have been a great beauty, but now the breasts had fallen, the hips had widened, and deep lines of worry and trial marked her face. Bliss didn’t know what their story was, she’d only met them in passing, but it was apparent that there must have been great difficulties at some point over the years.
But from the moment Duldon had rapped on the wall over the peephole and she’d become aware that she had a watcher Mrs. Binkshaw had changed. She’d begun to glow, her cheeks had gained color and she held herself straighter, angling her body to give the best presentation to the peephole. Bliss had wondered at first why Duldon had rapped upon the wall. Surely there was as much thrill in knowing one might be watched to actually being watched. Evidently that was not the case based on Mrs. Binkshaw’s reaction.
“Do they come here just to be seen?” she whispered to Duldon, who stood behind her leaning against the wall.
“Given that they’re married and have quite a lovely townhouse of their own, I can’t think of another reason. Although some find simply being at Ruby’s adds a tinge of excitement to any encounter.”
“Hmmmm, I am not sure that I would like being watched. How would one concentrate on what one was doing if one knew there was a watcher? I think I’d be far more worried about how I looked than what I was doing.” Bliss glanced over her shoulder at Duldon and then turned back to the peephole.
“Then I think it would be up to your partner to distract you.” Duldon came to stand behind her and she could feel the heat of his thighs through the back of her skirt. A small tendril of excitement sprang from even the slightest brushing touch. Yes, she could see how distraction might work.
She did not answer, her entire focus on the couple in the next room. Up until this point it had been mostly cuddles and kisses. Naked cuddles and kisses, but still cuddles and kisses. It had all been very sweet and almost as romantic as erotic, if that were possible. Now, however, Mrs. Binkshaw moved to position herself by bending over the bed in a way reminiscent of how the woman, Julianna, had bent over the library desk at the Evanstons’ ball. She did not stand straight on to the peephole, but rather positioned her hips at a slightest angle away. Bliss caught a hint of the pink flesh glistening between her legs but her gaze swiftly turned to Mr. Binkshaw, who had come to stand to the side of his wife. He had not stripped completely down, still having his breeches on, below his bare chest and belly. His eyes became more heated as he stared down at his wife’s behind. Reaching out he placed a hand on each of buttocks and began to massage and squeeze. His wife’s hips eased farther back, seeking further contact. His fingers worked the lightly muscled cheeks, massaging and separating, his entire focus caught by the pink flesh beckoning him.
Bliss found herself swallowing as he kneaded the soft skin, his fingers leaving pink marks that faded almost as quickly as they arrived. She pressed her knees together as she imagined the sensation of having somebody squeeze her like that, look at her like that. The heat of Duldon behind her was almost too much. She stared straight ahead, concentrated. There could be no mistaking where Mr. Binkshaw’s eyes were focused. Nobody had ever seen Bliss there since Nurse changed her nappies. What would it feel like to have a man touch her there, stroke her there? What did it look like? What did she look like? Bliss realized she had only the faintest idea and found herself wishing that Mrs. Binkshaw would shift so that she could get a better look. Did she glisten like that? Did her flesh look as if it begged to be touched, examined? Would Duldon look between her legs with such desire, such fascination?
Had she really just thought that?
An image came to her mind of Duldon’s face enrapt, of him staring down at shadowed flesh, pale in the moonlight. She could see him standing there, his buttocks firm and hollowed on the side, see the strain as he surged forward, see…
She closed her eyes against the image and then opened them again, staring at the Binkshaws. Such thoughts were forbidden. Even here, even when she was exploring her own desires, she refused let her mind wander there.
Bliss knew color was rising in her face and pressed it more determinedly against the peephole, her eyes fixed on Mr. Binkshaw’s fingers as they glided and moved. Mrs. Binkshaw was shifting and squirming, her face tight, her mouth slightly open. Bliss wished that she could hear what was happening. Were those moans or sighs escaping the parted lips? She knew her own lips had parted, her body alight with imagined sensation—and real sensation as well; there was no denying what effect watching was having on her.
She felt breathless and achy and needy, her body longing for…Her own heart sped and beat harder, her breaths increasing in intensity. When Mr. Binkshaw parted the cheeks of his wife’s behind and his thumbs moved into the deep crevasse between, Bliss found herself squirming and shifting. The back of her legs bumped into Duldon and she froze. She could feel the warmth and strength of his body surrounding her, the hardness and thrust of his thighs. She should move away, but found herself powerless to do so. The desire to press back into him was almost overwhelming, dizzying. Biting down hard on her lower lip, she tried to control the desires that began to overwhelm her.
“You are beginning to pant a little. Do you wish to tell me what is happening? Is he fucking her?” Duldon whispered the words and particularly that word against her ear.
Had anyone ever used such language with her before? She’d certainly heard the word before, but always in passing and never had it been directed at her. Again, it should have been distasteful, but something in his tone created an intimacy that caused something warm to unfurl deep in her belly. “No. He is merely caressing her behind,” she said, her voice so low even she had trouble hearing it.
“You mean her ass?”
Her belly trembled. She refused to be cowed—or overcome—by the blunt language. “Yes, her ass.”
“Tell me how he is caressing it. Softly?” Duldon trailed fingers along her arm, the barest brush but every tiny hair stood on end. “Or with more pressure?”
Suddenly his hands rested upon her shoulders and the fingers dug firmly into flesh, moving, kneading…It felt so good. Tension had built up there, at the joint of shoulder and neck, and she had not even been aware of it. She sighed softly, her body archin
g back toward him, moving to do that which it already desired.
“It is more like the second, I think,” she replied, trying to keep her wits about her. His fingers were magic, and the thoughts he put into her head forbidden.
“Is she enjoying it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“How can you tell?”
“Her face. I can see her face. Her eyes lie half closed, and her lips—even without being able to hear a word—I can feel the moans that escape them,” she answered.
“And how else can you tell?”
Bliss looked more carefully, trying to determine how she could feel the woman’s pleasure. “Her skin, it grows flushed, on her…her ass, where he touches, but also all over. She looks as if she were walking uphill on a summer day.”
“I like your description, but are there any other ways you can feel her pleasure?”
Was he leaning more over her? It was hard to tell, but with each breath she took she felt that there was more contact between them, and more shivers spread through her. “I truly don’t know what you mean.”
“Tell me, is she naked? Completely? Can you see her cunny?”
Cunny? Bliss pondered the word for a moment, distracted from the scene before her. “You mean her woman’s place?”
“Yes, I imagine that is what I mean. Have you never heard the word ‘cunny’ before?” He whispered in her ear, his breath teasing her.
“I don’t think so. It would not be surprising if one of my brothers or the stable boys used it, but perhaps I did not understand and so forgot.”
“I don’t imagine you will forget this time, my sweet. Now, tell me, can you see it?” His fingers began to knead her shoulders again and lightning shot down through her breasts and then between her legs. She moved from foot to foot trying to find comfort, trying to fight the need growing deep in her belly.
