Chapter 4
The willing target of his seduction. The words circled in his mind, taunting him. He could take his wife like a rake, and with her enthusiastic permission. Perhaps that was what she wanted from a husband? A rough, controlling lord rather than her considerate beau?
It was enough to drive a newlywed mad. And hard.
Leaving Jane in his bed following a beautiful night of cuddling and gentle lovemaking, Sebastian composed a note that he left on her dressing table. It read: “Should you wish to meet a rake, wear the white dress from the Waterloo picnic.”
Did she still own the dress? Would she remember the gown that so entranced him, with its gauzy fabric seeming to hide her figure—until the midday sun beat down behind her and illuminated the curving silhouette of her lush body?
Would her lady’s maid intercept the note and spread gossip? Would she dress before finding it and take it merely as a suggestion rather than her groom’s earnest plea for an afternoon of play?
Sebastian rode in Hyde Park distractedly, stopped in at his club only long enough for his visit to be unremarkable, and inquired at the jeweler about matching earrings for Mrs. Meers.
By two o’clock in the afternoon, Sebastian was a frustrated, agitated mess, tossing the reins of his curricle to his tiger before storming into the townhouse, much to the shock of the servants.
Good, they would leave their master and mistress alone for a long while. He decided he didn’t care if Jane wore the picnic dress or not. He planned to seduce her that afternoon.
As he rushed into the parlor where Jane preferred to spend her afternoons, Sebastian paused.
There, on a tufted chair he’d ordered just for his new bride’s comfort, sat Jane.
She sighed like a romantic heroine while turning the pages of a book, the fire behind her illuminating the delicious curves of her fine body.
And she wore the dress.
Pleasure surged through him knowing that he had found not just a loving wife, but a playmate miraculously of the same bent as he.
How, of all the damsels in London, he had stumbled into love with such perfection, he did not know, but he resolved to endow a church window or charity school in thanks for divine blessings.
His posture changed as he struggled to adopt the boredom of a seasoned rakehell so that his wife might have the full experience of surrender in a rake’s arms.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Simmons,” he drawled, affecting the speech of the careless youths that roamed the capital in stylish—and often dangerous—packs, traveling between gaming hells, illegal duels, and assignations.
“Sir, I see that the news has failed to reach you: I am recently wed,” she said. “I had the honor of joining Lord Lyons in matrimony only last week.”
Sebastian sauntered closer to his bride, affecting a sneer. “Lyons? I think I know him from the club,” he said, sweeping the tails of his coat aside so he could join Jane on the small seat.
“I was unaware that you remembered my name. I’m dreadfully sorry that I seem to have forgotten yours,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Not important,” he said, wrapping one of her artfully disarranged chestnut curls around his finger. “Not important at all when matrimony suits you so well; a topic I’d much rather discuss.”
“Sir, you seem to have closed the door on your way into the room. For the sake of propriety, we should leave it ajar. I’d hate for the servants to talk.”
“Never mind that,” he said, “you are a married woman now and have far more liberties in terms of your conduct.”
“I wouldn’t want my husband to doubt—”
“Surely a love match like yours entails a good deal of trust,” he said, gently tugging the curl before releasing it. “Don’t tell me that the flames have already died and he doubts your fidelity?”
“Never!” she exclaimed. “I really think you should go, sir.” Jane turned to put her back to him.
Sebastian wrapped a hand around his wife’s trim waist and let his fingers spread until they possessively covered her stomach.
“You’re a bride in bloom. Has he already planted his seed in you?
The sooner the better, I think, for once he gets his heir and spare, you’ll be free to consort with a more exciting sort of man,” he said.
“You are too bold! I must insist that you leave at once!” she cried.
Sebastian pulled her against his chest, moving his hand up to feel her breast.
“And yet you lean into this stolen moment and allow me to take liberties with your person. Is your groom failing in his marital duties? I know a man that would be happy to step in now if you require an alternate father for your heir and spare,” he said.
“You disgust me,” she said, allowing her head to loll on his shoulder in surrender. “I would never forsake my husband for temporary pleasures with a rake.”
“But would they be so temporary?” he asked silkily. “I can assure you I’d make your pleasures last.” Sebastian slipped his hand inside Jane’s bodice and pinched her hardened nipple.
“Sebastian sees to all of my needs, sir.”
“Curious,” he said. “Does that mean he’s also an experienced man about town? A rake?”
“If he was in the past, that is no matter now, for I plan to see to all of his needs right here in our home,” said Jane.
“And how does a cosseted miss plan to satisfy her rake husband’s every desire? Aristocratic wives don’t even whisper about most pleasures,” Sebastian said, his nose tracing his wife’s ear.
“An experienced lady has advised me,” she said. “And I study.”
“Ahh, wifely manuals of conduct,” he said, laughing as he pulled the book from her trembling hands. “Fordyce’s Sermons to Young Women? Say this isn’t your guide! An antique by the end of the last century, how is this supposed to keep your husband looking towards home for his sexual needs?”
“I intend to be a perfect helpmate to my Sebastian,” she said, her bosom heaving as he continued to toy with her breast.
“A helpmate sounds like a wife that stares at the ceiling while her husband inflicts his lust on her, not a temptress that will ensure he never strays,” he said, settling his free hand on the frothy fabric covering her lap. “But I could teach you to keep his eyes directed on you always.”
“I have no indication that my husband would ever look elsewhere for his pleasures,” said Jane.
“Does he chase you around the house and flip up your skirts? Teach you filthy words for your nether parts? Arrange assignations in the middle of the day when he should be ensconced at his club?” he asked.
“Well…”
“Read to me a passage from Fordyce’s Sermons that you think will keep your groom loyal,” he said.
“Why should I read to you in my own home?” she asked, turning in his hold.
“I’ll reward you with knowledge that will keep your Sebastian entranced.”
Jane grabbed the book and opened to a page that was bookmarked.
“But who can describe the transports of a breast truly parental, on beholding a daughter shoot up like some fair but modest flower, and acquire, day after day, fresh beauty and growing sweetness, so as to fill every eye with pleasure, and every heart with admiration; while, like that same flower, she appears unconscious of her opening charms, and only rejoices in the sun that cheers, and the hand that shelters her?”
“It seems Fordyce has depths heretofore unknown to me. You see, I, too, appreciate a blooming young flower and serving as a sheltering hand,” he said while cupping her mound.
“Sir, you pervert the meaning of his text,” she said, not moving from his hold.
“Such is the fate of a pervert in the company of a beautiful woman and a text of immense stupidity,” he said.
“No matter. As a gentleman, you promised knowledge that would keep my beloved husband always coming to me for his amatory needs. What shall keep him always looking in my direction?” she asked.
“I may have no occupation save whoring and gambling, but I am no gentleman,” he said. “And you need nothing from me to keep his eyes on you. Any man fortunate enough to be married to one such as you would be stupid to seek relief elsewhere,” he said.
“That differs from what I expected you might say.”
“The knowledge I grant you is thus: surprise him. Should he think he has plumbed every depth, introduce him to some aspect of you he has not yet met,” he said.
“Is that all?” she asked.
“I could speak more plainly,” he said. “Has he plumbed your depths yet?”
“We have completed the marital act,” said Jane.
“No, no, I mean, has he sucked and licked the bits between your thighs?” he asked.
“I think not!” exclaimed Jane. “Well, he did…we are not discussing my husband’s performance in the bedchamber! Or supply cupboard!”
“Ahh, so he has failed to bestow kisses on your pretty little cunt, has he? What a rogue. Meanwhile, I suppose he’s fed his cock down your lovely throat on multiple occasions, has he?” asked Sebastian.
“Down my…I don’t even know that’s possible,” mused Jane, subtly feeling the bones in her elegant neck.
“I can assure you, my lovely, that it’s very possible indeed,” he said. “I could demonstrate for you right now, very happily.”
“That won’t be necessary, sir. I find the hour grows late, and I invite you to seek company elsewhere,” she said.
“You’ve been such a good, resistant girl, Janie. I feel I should reward you before I take my leave. You sit, all darling curls and dressed in virginal white, while my hand grows comfortable between your legs.”
“I quite forgot about your hand entirely,” she sniffed.
“And yet I didn’t,” he said, giving her a squeeze. “I should reward you for granting a reprobate like me some of your guarded charms.”
“I need nothing of you aside from your departure from this house,” she said. “My husband’s house!”
Sebastian sank to the floor and made his way before his bride’s legs. Placing his hands on her knees, he gently pushed them apart and settled between them.
“I’m going to draw up your gown and perform the service your husband should have done already,” he said.