Chapter 6
“The man of the hour!” shouted Baron Dalpole when the celebrated Dick Stone crossed his threshold some two weeks later.
The summons to the Dalpole residence had arrived before Edward could learn more about the family’s confusing, possibly felonious milking of the upper class for money.
In truth, he hadn’t made learning more a priority because aristocrats had blunt to spare, and finding themselves caught in a silly scheme might cause some of them to lose the toploftiness that made society so trying.
In the end, they’d be out a negligible amount and left mediumlofty, a fair trade in his increasingly egalitarian mind.
Lord Edward looked up from where he was shaking off his umbrella in shock. Why must a man be so loud, particularly one who had also served in the war?
“We’re pleased you can join us this evening,” said the baron in that same loud voice. Goodness, if anyone in this house had been sleeping, they wouldn’t be abed long!
The man stood by impatiently as the butler took Edward’s overcoat, then escorted him into the drawing room, where they’d both pleasured the lady of the house.
Upon entering, his gaze was arrested by the presence of a cradle.
“Has the child arrived?” he asked with some concern, for it seemed far too early for a successful delivery of the heir.
The baron simply nodded no. His lips curled in a small smile as he regarded it, as if already envisioning the child within.
And that’s when Edward realized they weren’t alone.
Ringing the room were scores of men in evening dress, all watching him intently. They sat on an assemblage of chairs, silent save for the squeaks that happened when a man shifted on his seat.
“What is the meaning of this?” Edward asked Dalpole under his breath.
“I happened to mention your services, and other science-minded men leaped at the chance to observe.”
Edward stared at him.
“The chance to observe the breeding.”
“And who, pray tell, will be bred in this demonstration?” asked Edward, his blood rising. “Your lady wife is advanced in her pregnancy.”
“Charlotte has graciously allowed the men to observe a demonstration of the proceedings.”
Gesù, the Dalpoles and their passion for barnyard antics were about to become the stuff of legends.
“You’d expose your wife to the gaze of all these men?” asked Edward, gesturing to the men lining the drawing room. “While I pretend to breed her?”
Dalpole’s cheeks flushed, and his eyes seemed to fill with light.
“It is my great pleasure to show a rational, modern approach to breeding. And Charlotte is of the same mind. No longer do we need to be restricted by biology and outdated mores, oh no. We can create a new world by crossing only the best with the best, just as we do with seeds to make more bounteous crops.”
God in heaven, was this man talking about babies like new wheat varieties? Dick Stone had stuck his cock in some odd situations, but this might be the stickiest of all.
“And what of the money you collected?” asked Edward.
At that, Dalpole’s gaze turned sly. “Do you believe I would expose my wife to society’s scorn without some guarantee that if one of these men spoke, he would be irrevocably ruined?”
Now there was the fine mind who had helped king and country defeat Boney.
“Their money entangled them in something that would cause their downfall?”
“Indubitably.”
“And I suppose I’m party to this?” asked Edward, his temper rising.
“You’re no more exposed here than you are in your other breeding activities,” said Dalpole, waving his concerns away.
Edward looked at the alert roomful of men and raised his brows before turning back to stare down the baron’s one good eye.
“You’ll be well compensated for your trouble,” said the baron, suddenly looking as though he understood the gravity of the situation. “Like a bull brought in to service the heifers.”
It rankled — the baron’s casual dismissal of his life’s work.
He wasn’t a bull content to receive extra mash for covering a cow!
Not to mention the alignment of the man’s own dear wife with a female cow.
Lord Edward felt his cock go entirely soft, as if protesting the characterization of his breeding business.
He was working up to telling the man off and departing when the baroness entered the room.
“Lord Edward, what a lovely surprise,” she said, as if this meeting hadn’t been carefully planned.
She wore a lavish dressing gown cut low in the front. Edward looked down her neckline and felt his interest in the night’s proceedings roar back to life.
“Baroness Dalpole, how pleasant to see you again,” he said wryly, noticing that she did not acknowledge all the watching men in the room.
She placed a hand on Edward’s waistcoat despite her own husband standing right next to her. “I can’t thank you enough for volunteering to help with our problem,” she said in a loud voice that carried.
“I am pleased to be of service, madam,” he said with a bow. Perhaps if they were unfailingly polite to each other, the spectators would all fall asleep, and he’d be enjoying some warm milk and a book in bed before long.
And then Charlotte Dalpole took control of the situation. Along with his cock.
She shrugged out of that dressing gown and let it sink to the floor. Below it, she was entirely nude.
Her body was round and lush, everything soft because of her advanced pregnancy. The triangle of hair between her thighs was just visible under her generous belly, and Edward wanted nothing more than to take to the floor to see it better.
“You are most brave, Charlotte,” said the baron, exaggerated sadness in his eyes. “Would that I could be the one to breed you. Fortunately, we have a celebrated stallion at hand who has volunteered to take up the cause.”
Volunteered to take up the cause for an as-yet-agreed-upon sum of money. Edward sighed internally and hoped Tencendor would enjoy his improved feed.
“I’ll take a seat across the room, my love, and allow you both to bring about an heir,” said the baron, walking over to where the other men were sitting. “Should you find you need assistance, I’m only steps away.”
They embraced like lovers about to be parted by an ocean voyage, and the baroness bravely turned to face him. While licking her swollen lips, she perused the person of Dick Stone.
“Where shall you take me, sir?” she asked, as if a Tudor wife bound for the chopping block.
Edward summoned the strength to continue this farce. He’d take himself to a chop-house for a fine meal, he decided. Stock up on cheroots. Get his favorite boots resoled.
It was the lure of unleaky boots that did it.
“May I assess the breeding conditions?” asked Edward, advancing on her standing form, then placing a hand at her hip.
The minx shuddered at the feel of his hand on her skin. Her face displayed consternation to the crowd, but when Edward slid his fingers between her nether lips, she was even wetter than he expected.
“Have you been thinking about me?” asked Edward in a low tone as he worked in and out while his other hand touched those ripe breasts that had been calling to him.
“I’ve been thinking of nothing but carrying my husband’s heir,” Charlotte said with a sniff — before a moan left her mouth when Edward let his fingers press into a sensitive spot.
“I can’t help but feel a certain slickness inside your cunny, madam.”
“It would be silly for a woman about to be bred by a stud to insist that her husband take her. Only a woman in a fit of passion, very much looking forward to the interlude, would demand such a thing.”
That sent his cock to the heavens, though he was still annoyed at the Dalpoles for orchestrating this mockery of his mission. Charlotte Dalpole was swollen and wet with her husband’s seed, and Edward relished the feel of warming her further for his own use.
“Where am I to take you, madam?” he asked while stroking her breast.
“We’ve prepared that chaise,” she said, listing to one side, as she enjoyed his strokes.
Edward regarded the cushioned chaise they’d despoiled two weeks ago. Perfectly nice, but if the Dalpoles wanted a breeding show for their assembled guests, they’d need to do better.
“Is that so?” asked Edward, leading Charlotte towards it. She moved to take a seat on it, but Edward caught her hand in his.
She regarded him questioningly.
“I heard you wish to be bred.”
“Yes?” she said, uncertainty flashing across her face.
“Then I’ll need to take you like an animal.”
Her mouth formed an O shape, and her eyes grew wide.
“That tea table should do. On your hands and knees, so I can cover you and get you with child.”
The baroness froze until Edward walked her to the table and helped her arrange her limbs so she was positioned as he wished. Her arms seemed unaccustomed to the weight of her heavy belly, and her thighs had a pleasant heft to them that attracted his fingers.
“Now, see here!” objected the baron as he watched his wife spread on the table like an animal. While he protested with his voice for the benefit of the audience, his lowered lids and the bulge in his breeches suggested he enjoyed seeing that degrading pose very much indeed.
“I’m afraid this is the most advanced scientific position for successful breeding,” said Edward, casting a serious look about the room, as if the baron was interrupting a real experiment rather than distracting the age’s greatest cocksman.
“I must insert from behind and shoot deep to ensure the seed takes. There’s no way around it, I fear. ”
Several of the men murmured as if they were just now seeing the utility of such a pose. The ton would be fucking like animals in no time; let this be Dick Stone’s significant contribution to society. Aside from all the children he’d sired.
“I understand,” said the baron, resuming his seat. “Please proceed with the demonstration.”
Quite right.