His Curious Imp: The Rakes of Mayfair Book 4

by Barron, Melinda

  “G. Saunders,” he said. “Or how about G. McIntyre?”

  “Not in your wildest dreams,” she said.

  Fergus switched positions. He looked her in the eye and said, “Gabby, I’ve spanked my fair share of women. There’s never been a complaint. If you want to get information about a story that might be sold, I’m the man you should talk to. Interview me. Then I expect you to write a story that makes my cock as hard as the cobblestones on the street.”

  Gabby coughed softly. She didn’t want him to know how his words affected her. She didn’t want him to know that she was somewhat intrigued by the plan he’d just put forth. Could she write something erotic? Furthermore, could she make enough money to pay for her lodgings, for food, for clothing?

  Erotic stories came out in magazine form, or in pamphlets. She had no experience with those types of publications, so she wasn’t sure how much they paid. She needed to check on that. But first she needed to take on the challenge that Fergus had put before her.

  She took a bite from an apple and smiled when he licked his lips.

  “Tell me about the first time you spanked a woman.”

  She grinned at the look of amusement that crossed his face.

  “I didn’t hear a question in there, Miss Saunders.” He took the apple from her and bit out a huge chunk before he offered it back to her. “I heard a request for a story. There’s a difference.”

  She took the apple and watched as he drained his wineglass and refilled both his and hers.

  “All right. How old were you the first time you spanked a woman?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “And who was it?”

  “I’m sorry but I refuse to answer that question. A gentleman does not kiss and tell.” He took another drink. “You wouldn’t want me to bandy your name around, would you?”

  No, she would not. “Then be evasive with the name and tell me if it was a woman you were involved with?”

  “It was.”

  “And why were you punishing her?”

  “I wasn’t.”

  Gabby stopped with her wineglass partway to her lips.

  “Then why did you spank her?” She hoped her expression didn’t show how confused she was.

  “I spanked her because she asked me to, and I was curious to see if it brought her pleasure.”

  Gabby swallowed slowly. “Pleasure? So the idea of an erotic spanking is true? I mean I have read about it in my stories, but they are fiction.”

  “Yes, it’s true. And it brings pleasure, Gabriella. Extreme pleasure.”

  “For you, or for her?”

  “For both of us.”

  “How does it bring you pleasure?”

  “You mean am I a sadist?”

  “Yes, that’s what I mean.”

  “Really, Gabriella, you should be more direct with your questions.” He leaned closer to her. “You could get the wrong answer if you don’t ask for the exact information.”

  “Fine, tell me, Lord McIntyre, how is spanking a woman an enjoyable activity for you.”

  “It gives me pleasure knowing that I’m doing something the lady enjoys, something that brings her satisfaction.”

  His eyes were hooded with desire, and she hoped that hers weren’t the same, but something told her that they were. She looked down and bit her lip as she stared at the bulge in his pants. Without taking her eyes from the luscious sight she said softly, “Please tell me the story, Fergus.”

  “I had been seeing an older woman, a widow. We’d spent a particularly entertaining afternoon in bed.”

  Gabby fought down the wave of jealousy she felt and looked at his face. She could tell he knew what she was feeling and he laughed softly.

  “I’d gone out of the room for a few moments and when I came back she had a leather strap in her hands. She gave it to me and then bent over the bed and asked me to strike her behind with it.”

  Gabby tried to slow her breathing. Where she’d been damp earlier her quim was now extremely wet, just like it was when she read one of her tales.

  “Go on,” she said when he stopped. She knew he was watching her to see her reaction. From the look on his face she knew she was failing in keeping her desire secret.

  “At first, I refused. But she begged me. She told me how much she enjoyed it, that no one had done it since her husband died. My first few strikes were very tentative but at her urging I increased the pace. Her orgasm was so intense that I thought she would faint. When she’d come down I asked her to instruct me on how to properly spank a woman with numerous implements.”

  “Such as?”

  “A riding crop. A hair brush. A flogger. A cane. A ruler. A paddle. Various pieces of leather. The list could go on and on, sweet Gabby. You’re very flushed. Are you all right?”

  With each word, his voice had dropped in tone. Gabby nodded as the heat of desire flooded her face.

  “Surely you didn’t do that all on one night.”

  “Oh no, this lady and I enjoyed quite a nice time together,” he said. “Our relationship lasted for a long while, and she taught me quite a bit about what I know about sex.”

  Jealousy competed with the desire inside her. She didn’t want to think of him with another woman. She wanted to be that woman, the one who had an orgasm so intense that he was proud of himself for producing it.

  “Gabby, are you still with me?” he asked.

  “No, I’m wondering what it’s like to have an orgasm that intense.”

  “I can help you answer that question,” he said.

  She cleared her throat. “Tell me what a pleasure spanking feels like.”

  “Shall I take you home and show you? Shall I strip you naked and warm your little backside before I bury myself deep inside you?”

  “Fergus.” The word was a moan.

  “Shall I slap your little ass while I pump myself in and out of your hot quim?”

  “Oh Fergus, please.” He was sitting next to her now, his face inches from her own, his breath hot on her blushing face.

  “Answer me, Gabriella.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, I want you inside me. Yes, I want you to spank me.”

  He kissed her gently.

  “Has there only been the one man, Gabby?”

  “Yes, and only one time at that.”

  “And how long ago was it?”

  “Six years.”

  She kneaded his thigh and he moaned.

  “Then I shall be very gentle. You must let me know if I hurt you when I enter you. Promise me.”

  “I promise, Fergus.” He kissed her again and Gabby wanted to climb on top of him right now. But then her brain took over. She inched away from him. She’d given him a week and he’d done it in days, made her want him, made her desire him.

  “We have an appointment,” she said, her breathing uneven.

  “You’re right.” He stood and offered his hand. “Let’s gather this up, then go and meet my friend. The sooner that is over, the sooner I can have you under me.”

  Or over your knee, she wanted to say. But despite her bravado she was sure that part of their experiences together would come later.

  Chapter 5

  As they neared the house, Gabby picked at her skirt.

  “Something wrong?” Fergus asked.

  She didn’t want to say, because it would make her, to her eyes anyway, look bad, like she was with him for more than just a story.

  “I should go home and change,” she said. “You look very nice, and I look, well, pedestrian.” But then she thought about what was in her closet and knew there was only one dress that would be proper for afternoon tea at a lord’s house, and frankly, it was too much for the afternoon.

  “I have a few surprises for you when we get to the house,” he said.

  “You didn’t spend money on me, did you?”

  “I did not,” he said. “But Charlotte sent you more dresses. She’s generous that way. We still have two hou
rs until tea. I think you should take a nap and then change into what Charlotte sent over for you.”

  “No nap,” she said. “Although, a bath would be nice.” It cost extra to take a bath at the rooming house, which meant she limited herself, and this morning had not been her time.

  “I’ll have a maid set it up, and then she’ll bring your presents up.”

  “Presents,” she said. “More than one?”

  “You know Charlotte, she’s very generous,” he said.

  Gabby didn’t respond. Charlotte was giving, but Gabby didn’t really like the idea of taking gifts from her friend. She needed to talk to her about it. But the clothes were more than just about being things she didn’t pay for; it was about being in a different level of society. Charlotte and her friends had money and position. Gabby was now unemployed and lived in a rooming house.

  The idea that she’d quit her job at the newspaper today hit her hard. She wondered if this was what McNutt felt like when Fergus had punched him. She wondered if she could go to Phillips and ask, no beg, for her job back.

  She might be having a good time with Fergus right now, but it would not last. And the amount of money she had saved would not last more than a few months, and then she would be out on the street, selling flowers from a cart to make ends meet.

  “Something wrong?” Fergus asked.

  “No.” She smiled at him and hoped he didn’t see that her expression didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “I think one of the dresses is for the party that Charlotte is planning in your honor.” He put his hand on her knee and squeezed. “Once we’ve talked with Robert and had dinner, you can do a fashion show for me. I’m looking forward to seeing the dresses.”

  * * *

  A knock at the door jerked Gabby out of a sound sleep. She sat up and looked around, a little disoriented. The last she’d remembered she’d taken a bath and wrapped herself in a soft bath sheet.

  The knock came again and Fergus’ deep voice carried through the door. “Are you awake?”

  Awake and naked, she wanted to say. Instead she answered, “Yes.”

  “We have clothing for you, but the door is locked.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “You have a key,” she said as she snuggled down under the covers. “Use it.”

  There was a click and the door opened. Fergus came in, trailed by a maid whose arms were laden with clothes.

  “Put them on the end of the bed,” Fergus told her. She did as he said, curtsied and left.

  “Your gifts from Charlotte,” he said.

  Gabby sat up, clutching the bedding close to her chest. There was a large pile of material there, something Gabby hadn’t expected to see.

  “I can’t accept all of those,” she said.

  “That is between you and Charlotte,” he said. “I believe the blue dress is perfect for the meeting. We’re going to meet in the library. I’ll take Robert in there and close the door, and have the butler announce you as if you were just arriving.”

  “Why the subterfuge?” she asked. “Surely you don’t care if your friend knows I just took a nap in your house.”

  “I thought you would like this meeting to stay on a professional level.” He licked his lips and all thoughts of professionalism went out the window.

  “Don’t look at me like that while we’re meeting.” Gabby clutched the sheet tighter.

  “Why? Can’t you handle your emotions?” he asked. “You must want me to fuck you more than I thought.”

  “Don’t read things into my words,” she said. “You’re the one who was licking your lips.”

  “Would you rather I licked something else?” He focused his gaze on her eyes, and then it lowered to her chest, and started to move even farther down.

  “Stop that.”

  “Why? Are you getting wet?”

  Gabby looked at the windows. “I won’t dignify that with an answer. You should leave so I can get dressed and meet your friend.”

  “Very well,” he said. “I’ll have Tina return and help you with your clothing and hair. Don’t forget to put on a wrap to make it seem as if you’ve been outdoors.”

  “It would be easier not to lie,” she said as he went back out into the hallway. He didn’t answer and moments later Tina, the maid, returned. She helped Charlotte into her corset and underclothes and as she worked, Gabby thought about her friends at the rooming house, and how they helped each other to dress. She’d never had a maid, and she’d never expected to be able to afford one. She felt like a phony, and those feelings would carry over once she was downstairs, making a man think she hadn’t been here for most of the afternoon.

  The dress was tight but it showed off her curves. Tina pinned a hat on her head and handed her a wrap. Did every member of the staff know the scheme? The thought intensified as she walked down the stairs and the butler stopped her.

  He escorted her to the front door, which he opened and closed. He led her to the library and opened the door.

  “Miss Saunders has arrived, sir,” he announced. Gabby went inside the room and smiled at Fergus who was standing next to a man she’d never seen before.

  “Ah, Gabby, welcome,” Fergus said. He crossed the floor and kissed her cheek. The butler took her wrap and left.

  “May I present Robert Montgomery? We went to school together at Cambridge. Robert is a curator at the British Museum. He was kind enough to come to tea on short notice so that he might examine the statue that we found today.”

  Gabby inclined her head at Robert, who was a tall muscular man who looked nothing like what Gabby thought a museum curator would look.

  “Miss Saunders, a pleasure.” He kissed her hand and she smiled at him.

  For the first time Gabby noticed the statue sitting on a table between two chairs.

  “Is it real?”

  Fergus laughed. “This is my Gabby, ready to get to the bottom of things without any prelude.”

  Montgomery laughed. He crossed to the table and picked up the statue. “No, but it’s a very clever forgery. Someone with no training would think it was very real. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so meticulously made. It’s the X that gives it away. I’ve never seen anything like it on an artifact before.”

  Gabby’s stomach sank. She’d been hoping it was real and that the house they’d found today was full of criminals who were stealing artifacts. That would make a great story.

  A maid, different than Tina, brought in a tea tray. They all sat down, Fergus and Gabby on one side and Robert on the other. The maid served and then left.

  “You’re disappointed,” Robert said.

  Gabby had ignored her tea and instead focused on the statue.

  “I am,” she said. She wasn’t exactly sure what Fergus had told his friend, so she didn’t elaborate. She wasn’t even sure Robert knew where they had found the statue. She wanted to know exactly what they could talk about, but instead she took a drink.

  “The museum is hosting an opening on Thursday evening for a new exhibit on Egyptian artifacts,” Fergus said. “Robert has been kind enough to issue us an invitation so that we might be one of the first to see the relics.”

  “That is most kind of you, Mr. Montgomery.” Gabby smiled at him.

  “Robert, please, and it is my pleasure. I love to give people the chance to see true works of art. And these are works of art. The things the Egyptians did are absolutely mind-boggling. The exhibit even includes a real mummy.”

  Gabby shivered and the two men laughed.

  “We’re still unpacking crates,” Robert said. “We have two full days of work left before everything is set up. But it will be a beautiful exhibit and I can’t wait for everyone to see it.”

  “Tell me, Robert, why would someone make such meticulous forgeries?” Gabby wished she had a sheet of paper and a pen so she could take notes. “Is the need for them so great?”

  “The interest in Egyptian culture has been high in England since Napoleonic times,” Robert said. “It
’s also very popular for ladies to have Egyptian rooms, and Egyptian themed parties.”

  “So our nefarious friends are selling the fakes to ladies?” Fergus asked.

  “It could be,” Robert said. “There is the chance they are illegally importing the fakes from Egypt. The black market on antiquities is a lucrative business.”

  He took a sip from his tea before he said, “Fergus, may I ask where you found this? You never did say.”

  “I received it as a gift,” Gabby said, without even thinking.

  “From whom?” Robert asked. He glanced at Fergus. “Was it from you?”

  “No, a man named McNutt,” Fergus said.

  Gabby, who had been taking a sip from her cup, snorted and spilled her tea all over Charlotte’s beautiful blue dress.

  She hoped her red cheeks didn’t clash with the brown-stained blue.

  * * *

  The spill ended the tea. Robert wanted to stay and speak with Fergus, so Gabby did the only thing she thought she could, she asked Fergus if his carriage could take her to her rooms.

  At the door, he leaned over and kissed her. “Write my story and be done by tonight, at nine. You can come back here and we’ll have dinner and read.”

  Something told her that wasn’t all they would be doing tonight if she wrote an erotic tale based on what he’d told her this afternoon. She’d come to terms with the idea that they would become lovers, and it would end after the Egyptian case was solved. But that didn’t mean she had to like the idea; she enjoyed being around Fergus, she loved his touch, his kisses.

  If the little things like touches and kisses made her insane, then his lovemaking would affect her in a way that would make it hard to let go of him. She needed to think of that before she gave herself to him.

  Now that she was back in her hovel, she couldn’t help but wonder if she should allow herself more than a physical relationship with him. But she shrugged off the idea almost as quickly as it passed through her mind.

  Men were not to be trusted. She could enjoy him physically, but she would not give herself to him emotionally. Which left the one word that she really hated… mistress.