Chapter 2
How the second son of a Marquess came to be running a breeding business out the back of a high street barbershop was a story that could fill a series of novels.
Since you, dear reader, are likely less concerned with how he stumbled into his work than what he did when he got into it (and any number of aristocratic ladies), I shall be brief.
The young blades weren’t wrong; he saved a recruit from the firing line in the Peninsular War — long before Waterloo, it should be noted.
A rumor circulated that his downfall stemmed not from his soft heart, but from his hard cock. Namely, his hard cock lodged in his commanding officer’s wife, a lovely young woman following the drum with her aged spouse, who was desperate to conceive a baby after many years of marriage.
She got her baby, he was dishonorably discharged, and the healthy income previously supplied by his father was cut like the supply lines to a losing army. He had to retreat and retrench.
He reflected on this while walking to Hyde Park.
In the past, he’d have ridden a horse — likely, his stallion, Tencendor — but housing and feeding the beast had outstripped his limited income, and he’d had to part with the dear demon some months prior.
It was the wound that would never heal, Tencendor having been with him in Portugal.
Ahead, he spotted his quarry.
As instructed, the landau coach waited for him just off Rotten Row. Working in their favor was the light mist, which allowed the landau’s hoods to be raised without remark. Also in their favor was the early hour, far before the fashionable set descended upon the park.
Well, the last wasn’t down to luck at all, but careful scheduling suggested by Lord Edward.
He swung up into the carriage unobtrusively and took the seat facing the lady he was supposed to impregnate.
Lady Maria Mabbot was a young, lovely vision in white, as if she hadn’t thought to update her wardrobe from her come out, which admittedly wasn’t that far behind her. He paused. Did she truly have any awareness of what her husband and his friends were up to?
Encounters like this made him question whether his line of work was as noble as he told himself it could be when fits of conscience attacked him in the middle of the night.
“I say, sir, I believe I saw a number of young men bathing in the Serpentine on the way here!” she exclaimed while craning to look back at the lake. “They do that in the nude? In the open air of the park?”
Lord Edward pulled at his self-tied cravat and struggled to find suitable words to say in response.
“Preachers instruct all Englishmen, rich and poor alike, that cleanliness is next to godliness. I expect these lads are attempting to comply with those teachings as best as they can.”
“Some of them didn’t appear to be young at all,” she said, her eyes large. “Why don’t they merely have their servant bring them some water for their washing?”
Could it be that Lord Charles Mabbot had married the rare woman, one as silly as the friends that had hired Edward to take up the pikestaff? He again questioned if he could fuck this innocent chit in good conscience.
“I suppose some people don’t have servants. Such as those who are servants themselves,” she mused quietly.
There, she had shown a modicum of intelligence. He could swive away and collect the coin promised him.
“Madam, I wonder if you know why I am here,” he said.
“I believe my husband would like to get an heir on me without undertaking the task himself?” she asked.
Good, good. Straightforward and right down to business.
“Then you are willing to be…put in a breeding state by me. A man who is not your husband.”
“I rather like Charley, and if this is what he determines is best, I see no reason not to comply with his wishes.”
“How well do you know your husband?” asked Edward, his curiosity winning out.
“Charley? We grew up together. Don’t be under any misapprehension: our parents arranged the marriage to settle a dispute over some pasture that almost certainly belonged to my family since the time of Henry VII. Our union settled the matter, but now his Papa is making additional demands.”
“And you have no objection to being told what to do?”
“It seems preferable to having to bathe in the Serpentine or fetch one’s own water, don’t you think?”
Edward found he didn’t agree at all. He’d been fetching his own water for bathing since returning to England, and it was among the least distressing tasks his change in status and purse brought, but that was neither here nor there. He had someone else’s bride to impregnate.
“So you confirm you are of sound mind and willing to take part in this scheme?”
“As sound as the ice on the Serpentine in winter,” she said blithely, which wasn’t reassuring, since that ice had the tendency to break under the weight of skaters.
“Then would you permit me to assess whether your body is in a suitable state for being bred?”
Lady Maria held out her arm as if Edward meant to take her pulse.
“I mean under your skirts.”
She looked at him, scandalized. “Whyever would you need to check there?”
Oh, so it was to be one of those days, the ones when he flipped through every decision leading him to this point and cursed himself for letting his cock get the best of him.
He sighed inwardly and set out to deliver the lecture on human reproduction he’d had cause to give more than once to a shocked lady.
“You know where babies come from?” he asked.
“From the mother’s belly. Everyone knows that,” she said, scoffing as if he were the silly one.
Edward moved from his bench and settled beside her on the forward-facing seat. He placed a hand over her belly. She looked up at him, stunned, as if she hadn’t ever been touched there.
“So you understand what happened on your wedding night?” asked Edward.
“Of course I do.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Hurt? I hardly think two healthy young people sleeping in the same bed would hurt.”
“I mean, when your husband inserted himself into you.”
The color drained from Lady Maria’s face.
“You mean to say,” said Edward, realization dawning on him. “That your husband did not penetrate your person on your wedding night? And I’m guessing he did not complete the task on subsequent nights?”
“I should think not,” said Lady Maria, her handkerchief over her mouth as if she was about to be ill.
“In order to be bred, a member must be inserted into your person,” he said. “That’s what I’d need to do to get you with child.”
“A member?”
Edward thanked the heavens, for once, for his tendency to harden at the merest hint of sex. Because of his interested cock, he could easily dispel any confusion.
“Here,” he said, placing the hand that wasn’t clutching the handkerchief in his lap. “That piece will need to enter your…channel.”
She felt his shaft experimentally. Her eyes widened, and then she looked into his lap to see the outline of his straining cock.
“How?” she asked, quite befuddled. “Your breeches seem to restrain it admirably.”
“Yes, the work of my tailoress. They’ll need to come off.” He picked her hand out of his lap. “If you continue in that direction, we’ll have no seed left for making the baby.”
“And you’ll put the seed inside of me,” she said, seeming to ruminate.
“Yes, ideally in a way that is at least somewhat pleasurable to you.”
“I shouldn’t think that necessary,” she said, shocked.
“You may find that pleasure eases the way,” he said.
She stared at him blankly.
“In your channel. In and out of your person.”
Lady Maria looked from corner to corner of the carriage as if counting up sums. Finally, she said, “I should like a demonstration.”
Edward was momentarily at a loss for words. Now, this wouldn’t be the first time he’d rogered a lady in a coach, but he didn’t expect a young woman within sight of the altar to request a trial of his services in a conveyance; that was the domain of the older, more experienced women of the ton.
“To ensure we both mean the same thing: you’d like to be bred in this carriage? Or at least make an attempt at breeding, here in this landau?”
“I hardly think a carriage is a place to make an heir!” she gasped.
“You’d be surprised.”
“Today has been full of surprises. I shall think twice before departing my bed ahead of normal visiting hours again.”
“How did you envision this demonstration working?” asked Edward, genuinely confused.
“I thought you might like to show me your breeding organ and then gesture to demonstrate how it all works. What did you think I meant?”
“I expected that you’d want to lift your skirts and allow me access to your person so you might experience a bit of the pleasure breeding can bring.”
Lady Maria fixed him with a hard stare and then set about gathering her skirts. Up they rose, revealing a slim ankle encased in fine knit stockings. A youthful knee. Plump thighs that trembled slightly. She paused.
“I don’t wear drawers. My mother said only bad girls wear them.”
She pulled her dress higher to show the apex of her legs and the little thatch of hair that set Edward’s mouth to watering. He needed to control himself and not scare this young bride, but he felt his lids grow heavy when she bravely let her body relax and knees fall apart.
“Have you felt this part of yourself before?” he asked, moving closer to her on the bench.
“I don’t fetch my own water for washing up. Why would I labor down there? Is that not a task men like you perform for money?”
Edward fought the urge to rear back as if slapped. If he’d been able to see this moment of degradation before his actions on the Continent, would he have let his cock out of the barn?
Probably. He could shake his fist at fate, but having hubris and horniness as twin masters made a man reckless.
Not that he’d allow this chit to walk away from this encounter without wobbling legs and a newfound respect for her child-to-be’s father.
He settled one large hand on the inside of her thigh and moved up towards her bush slowly.