Tempting A Marquess (A Steamy Regency Romance Book 4) Page 2

He raised his brows. “If it is in my power, madam.”

  “Choose for me one person whose concerns you will take to heart. One person to care for—that is not me. Do this, and I shall even refrain from ever troubling you with talk of marriage and heirs.”

  He frowned. “Who is to be this person?”

  “It is for you to choose. You have many in your family whom could use your protection, guidance and wisdom. I am certain you will make a selection that will make me happy. And this would be the best birthday gift of all to me.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Priestly walking away. “Very well, I will give it consideration.”

  “Well, do not take forever to make your decision or it will not qualify as a birthday present.”

  He sensed that Katherine had more to say, but she knew better than to stay him too long. After speaking with Mr. Priestly, he would take his leave. There were too many mothers present who had set their sights upon him, though if they knew what he planned in the way of female companionship this weekend, they would reconsider him as a marital prospect for their daughters.

  He had not been to Château Follet in some time and looked with anticipation to indulging in debauchery in the coming days.

  Chapter Three

  MILDRED HESITATED AS she observed her cousin taking his gloves and hat from the groom. He was taking his leave and would not be pleased to tarry. But if she did not speak with him now, she knew not when they would next meet. Resolved, she approached him.

  “Alastair, may I have a minute of your time?” she asked, reminding herself that the frown he wore was customary and its cause need not be attributed to her alone.

  He turned his dark and penetrating gaze upon her, and, as she had come to stand closer to him than she’d intended, she was quite conscious of how much taller and broader he was than her, though she was no petite maiden.

  “My God, you look dreadfully pale, Millie,” he drawled in his rich baritone.

  A more mannered woman of society might take exception to such a greeting, but Mildred did not mind dispensing with the niceties. “I know it. Mother made me apply at least six coats of powder.”

  “It looks terrible. I would not recommend it.”

  “Thank you for your counsel, but I did not come seeking your advice on my toilette. Rather, I had hoped to have a minute with you—”

  He raised his brows. “A minute?”

  “A few minutes,” she corrected as she fiddled with her necklace of pearls. “I know you are eager to attend your gaming hells and will not trespass too much upon your time.”

  He seemed slightly amused that she knew his destination. “A few minutes then, Millie, and only because I know you are economical with your conversation—an uncommon trait in your sex.”

  “I am much obliged, sir.” Feeling the gazes of Helen, Margaret and Jane upon her, she delayed her own purpose for the moment. “I take it you will not stay for the dancing?”

  His look of boredom was her answer.

  “You would make many a woman happy if you did,” Mildred said.

  “I would raise many a false expectation,” he returned.

  “Do you know my friend Jane? I think Henry Westley takes an interest in her—”

  “Millie, what is the purpose of our tête-à-tête?”

  She took a fortifying breath and adjusted her pearls. “I have not had the chance to thank you for providing my dowry.”

  He groaned. “If I had known my provision would engender such a fuss, I would not have done it.”

  She perked. “Then don’t.”

  He was taken aback, a rare occasion, for very little surprised or even seemed to interest the marquess. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t provide for my dowry. I would rather you had not.”

  He stared at her as if looking for signs of madness.

  “I am not yet ready to marry,” she explained.

  “But it is done. Your father introduced me to your intended tonight.”

  “And what think you of him, Alastair?”

  “You have no wish to know my opinions. They are rarely ever favorable.”

  “They could not be worse than mine on this matter.”

  “If you don’t like the fellow, why did you accept his hand?”

  “Father impressed upon me that I had to. I was overcome, I think, by guilt and a sense of responsibility to my family—I am not you, Alastair. I cannot dismiss what others expect of me.”

  “I assure you that life is much simpler when you pay others no heed.”

  “I am quite certain that, without a dowry, Mr. Haversham will lose all interest in me.”

  His lordship let out a long breath. “Millie, this is not my problem. I have no desire to interfere in your family.”

  “I am not asking you to speak to father. Simply withdraw the dowry.”

  “While I may have granted your father his request in a moment of weakness, I will not retract my word. It would not be gentlemanly.”

  “Since when were you concerned with being a gentleman?” she cried.

  He could not resist smiling. When he did, his eyes of grey sparkled. It was what had many a woman undone in his presence.

  “Dear Millie, you are far too clever for that Haversham charlatan.”

  He began putting on his gloves. Seeing that he intended to leave, she suppressed the urge to scowl at him.

  “Are you quite certain you wish to invite him into the family?” she tried.

  Unperturbed, he donned his hat. “Your few minutes have come to an end. Good night, Millie.”

  She knew better than to try to stay him. And she was too vexed for words. She should have known Alastair, though he indulged her more than he did most others, would make no effort to come to her aid.

  Chapter Four

  “OH, LADY KATHERINE, it is beautiful!” Mildred remarked as the carriage came into view of the château.

  Built in the early 18th century and laced with a baroque cornice, the structure had three stories with two pointed towers serving as bookends of the perfectly symmetrical façade. The steep hip roofs of zinc contrasted with the ivory stones. One would have thought the château plucked straight from the French countryside. It stood nestled among mighty oak trees and low verdant hills.

  Her ladyship looked out the carriage window with a wistful sigh. “I have not set eyes upon it in many years. Not since Richard passed.”

  Mildred turned to Lady Katherine. “I cannot thank you enough, my lady, for asking me to join you.”

  “Careful you do not express too much gratitude or you will sound very much like your betrothed.”

  Mildred gave a wan smile before sighing. “Yes, though I shall be Mrs. Haversham soon enough.”

  Her ladyship shuddered. “If you were my child, and I do regard you as such since I have none of my own, I would not permit this marriage to happen. I advised your parents that Mr. Haversham would not suit you, but it appears he is entailed some property, and they feel you will be taken good care of by him. Nonetheless, I had hoped they esteemed me enough to take my recommendation.”

  “They regard you highly, my lady! But on this, they believe they have the approval of Alastair.”

  “Hm. And Andre refused your request?’

  “He has no wish to concern himself with my troubles.”

  “Not even for his favorite cousin?”

  “I hardly qualify as his favorite cousin. I am merely the one who vexes him the least.”

  “That is no small accomplishment with Andre.”

  Mildred returned to looking at the château. When Lady Katherine had suggested she take Mildred to Bath with her, Mildred could not have been more thrilled. She did not often travel with her family and had not been to Bath since she was a child. Besides the springs and bath houses, she recalled streets lined with shops, treats of all sorts, and brightly clothed men selling tonics that healed everything from fatigue to warts. But first they would stop to stay a night at Château Follet.

  “
There is something you should know about the château and its proprietress, Madame Follet,” said Lady Katherine.

  Mildred gave her ladyship her full attention. There was a peculiar gleam in the woman’s eyes.

  “It is also known as the ‘Château Debauchery.’”

  “The Château Debauchery?” Mildred echoed, amused and intrigued.

  “The late Monsieur Follet was once imprisoned with the Marquis de Sade and the Comte de Mirabeau.”

  Mildred’s eyes widened. “How wicked.”

  “Yes, wicked indeed.”

  “But you say you met Uncle Richard here?”

  “I did, but Château Follet is no place for love. It is a simply place where men and women indulge their prurient desires, without the judgement and condemnation that society would render.”

  Mildred looked carefully at her ladyship to ensure she did not jest, though it did not surprise her that Lady Katherine would speak of such things. The two women had formed an unexpected bond after her ladyship had come across Mildred and the stablehand in a compromising way in the greenhouse. Mildred could not have been more mortified, certain she had ruined herself and her family. But, to her great astonishment, Lady Katherine had not castigated her. Instead, she had allowed Mildred to take her into her confidence.

  “I shall not commit so dreadful and shameful an act again,” Mildred had promised.

  “Nonsense, child. You cannot quell the natural desires of your body,” Lady Katherine had replied.

  Mildred had never been so stunned in her life. Thus began an unusual rapport. Lady Katherine spoke to her of unmentionables, of subjects no proper woman would ever speak, not even to a sister. But Mildred, eager to learn, and relieved that her carnal cravings might not be so odd and reprehensible if a woman like Lady Katherine shared in them, drank in every word.

  “Is it still known as the Château Debauchery?” Mildred inquired.

  “More than ever, I think,” her ladyship replied.

  “And we are to stay here for the night?”

  “You will stay here. I am far too old for the goings on of the château, and, without Richard, it is not the same. And you will enjoy yourself better without my company.”

  Mildred stared at Lady Katherine with eyes agog. “You are not staying?”

  “Worry not. The guests are most discreet, and Marguerite—Madame Follet, that is—will watch over you. I will speak with her.”

  “But where will you stay?”

  “I’ve an old friend who lives not far, and I mean to pay her a visit. I will return the morrow to fetch you.”

  Mildred felt the luster of her prior elation diminish. “I am to be alone at the château?”

  “My dear, you are a woman after my own heart. I promise you will have a fine adventure at Château Follet.”

  “But I know no one. What am I to do?”

  “Anything you wish. Madame Follet will acquaint you with all you need know.”

  “But where shall you stay?”

  Still astonished and now discomfited, Mildred felt her mind in an unsteady whirl. Her ladyship placed a reassuring hand over hers.

  “Do not fear, my child. Château Follet is wondrous. If you are to marry that Haversham fellow, you ought to grant yourself one last adventure before you are shackled to the tedium of marriage. Trust me, without Château Follet, as much as I loved your uncle, I wonder that our marriage would have lasted as well.”

  Mildred did trust Lady Katherine. She admired her ladyship’s unabashed honesty of carnal matters and her knowledge of the libidinous. The consummation of the marriage was the part she most dreaded with Haversham. The man fumbled to kiss her hand and had a painful propensity for planting his foot atop hers whether strolling, dancing or even sitting. How could he possibly fulfill her corporal cravings?

  The opportunity presented to her in Château Follet was rare and special. She pressed Lady Katherine’s hand in gratitude.

  “I had recommended Château Follet to another before,” her ladyship said. “It did not disappoint. I think you will have a most memorable stay. Be free. Be bold. Be wanton.”

  Mildred glanced out the window and saw that they were about to draw up to Château Follet. It was a little petrifying, but she felt her excitement return. Even greater than before.

  * * * * *

  With equal parts apprehension and anticipation, Mildred followed Madame Follet through the Château. Madame Follet, though several years older, possessed a youthful vibrancy. Mildred had taken to her in an instant and felt she would have done so even if Lady Katherine had not extolled her friendship with the woman. Madame was one of those fortunate women whose beauty did not fade easily with youth. She was much what Mildred was not: stylish in her turban and Turkish shawl, fair in countenance and hair, and slender everywhere from her neck to her fingers. In contrast, Mildred had dark locks, almost as black as the d'Aubigne tresses, and a cherubic face.

  “I have the perfect room for you here in the west wing,” said Madame as they continued down the corridor. They passed by a room with an open door, and Mildred thought she saw a couple, both only partially dressed, upon the bed kissing.

  Noticing the look of surprise, Madame smiled. “Some guests do not mind if others watch and observe.”

  “Truly?”

  This was beyond anything Mildred had considered. It was…provocative.

  “Would you like to watch?”

  Her breath caught. “Pardon?”

  “Being a voyeur can be quite titillating.”

  Mildred hesitated. She had not been here above an hour and had not thought to be thrown into the activities already. She had thought she would have more time to adjust to her surroundings, though she knew not how one would prepare for a place like the Château Follet. For certain, watching another couple in congress was extremely naughty. But her response came far more easily than she expected.

  “Yes.”

  Turning around, they went back and stood at threshold of the couple's room. The woman, dressed only in her shift and stays, was lying upon the bed. The man, in only his shirt, hovered above her, kissing her lips, her throat, the top of her bosom. The woman arched her back, trying to press her body closer to his.

  “Pray, tease me no longer. I must have you,” she murmured.

  Mildred stood as still and as quiet as she could, hoping they would not notice her. Her mind screamed that what she did was wrong. Nevertheless, warmth stirred in her belly.

  The man straddled the woman, laying his hips over hers. There was a familiar thrusting motion, a sigh from the woman. Mildred felt the heat travel up her cheeks. Was she truly watching this? The man rolled his hips at the woman, who grasped his arms and alternated between grunting and gasping. Their brows furrowed, their cheeks flushed. A mix of emotions churned inside Mildred. She knew their pleasure, knew the corporal cravings that were being simultaneously stoked and satisfied. Thus, she felt as if she were sharing in their interaction. It was naughty to bear witness to such an intimate act, but it was a titillating sight.

  The woman's gasps quickened, as did his grunting. His hips hammered into her ferociously. She gave a gasping cry. Seconds later, he roared as he spent before collapsing atop her. They lay, still entwined, breathing hard, their mission complete. Mildred did not move, but she did not know if she ought to stay. For certain, if they saw her, her face would ripen into a tomato.

  Sensing her unease, Madame quietly withdrew and Mildred followed. They continued down the corridor. Mildred was silent as she tried to calm the tumult inside her. She had enjoyed the scene, had envied the woman upon the bed. Would she herself ever be so bold?

  "You are much like Lady Katherine," Madame said. "She, too, is possessed of an adventurous spirit."

  Glancing at Madame, Mildred was filled with a sort of gratitude. For years, until that fateful encounter with Lady Katherine, she had thought herself a most depraved young woman. She knew no one she could talk to. Nothing seemed to stymie the wicked urges within her—not attend
ing church, not reading the Bible over and over, not filling her days with mundane activities, nothing. It was truly a strange affliction because the satiation of it was ever only temporary. In the quiet of her own chambers, she would attend that craving by hand. But, time and time again, the yearning would return. And when she had given of herself to the stableboy, it seemed she had only unlocked an appetite for more.

  “Here are your chambers,” Madame said, showing Mildred into a nicely appointed and perfectly respectable anteroom.

  No one would suspect anything untoward occurred between its walls. Even the pastoral painting upon the wall, of a woman entertaining the attentions of a man on either side of her, seemed tame. Mildred took in the rose-colored, printed silk and golden candelabras upon the walls, and how the late afternoon sun filled the entire room with light. The mahogany furnishings were finer than any in the Abbott house, but it was the general cheerfulness of the room that Mildred found delightful.

  “I thought these chambers would suit you.” Madame smiled. “As you have no maid of your own, I will have one of mine attend you. Her name is Bhadra. Supper will be at six o’clock. Till then, you are free to roam the château as if it were your own.”

  Madame gave her a parting smile. Mildred would have liked her hostess to stay. She would have liked to acquaint herself more with the woman, and how the Château Debauchery had come into being, but she would not keep Madame Follet from the other guests.

  Alone, she opened the door to the bedroom to see a beautiful post bed clothed in fine linen. She grazed the back of her hand over the soft bedclothes before sitting down.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed upon seeing her reflection in a large gilded looking glass above the fireplace. The glass was tilted toward the bed.

  How very lecherous, she thought to herself with a smile. Giddiness percolated. She could hardly believe she was to spend the night here. Alone. A part of her wished Lady Katherine would have stayed but perhaps it was, as her ladyship suggested, better this way. Without reminders of her present life, she might lose herself more readily in the world of Château Follet.