Duplicity

After just a few days of bright sunshine and almost unbearable heat, the weather turned cool, dull and rainy again. Lady Ann Seymour rather like the cooler, darker, drearier weather. Instead of making calls or receiving visitors, she told her servants to claim she was ill and instead spent the day before a good roaring fire in her bedchamber after a vigorous romp with her demanding lover.

Lady Ann felt deliciously bruised and exhausted. Strands of her long, rich, honey-coloured hair mated to her damp, naked body. There wasn't a part of her creamy skin that didn't bear red welts where he held her down forcibly. All her muscles were tender and sore and clammy with drying sweat. She never felt better!

"I dare say you've missed me," she said with a self-satisfied smile in between ragged breaths. In response, he captured her legs and pulled her beneath his muscled chest. He deliberately dragged his silky wet tongue over her belly, tracing a circle around her navel. That send Ann into a peal of gasping laughter but as hard as she tried to kick out her legs and push him away she could not escape his torturous ministrations. Then she stopped moving altogether when his tongue traveled lower and lower. She felt a familiar burst of awe and euphoria when he finally flicked his tongue in her sheath.

"My Lord!" she moaned weakly in protest. "You shall be the death of me!"

As always, he ignored her as his tongue traced a spiral around her feminine depth and plunged up where she was still tingling, still pulsating wetness from before. Oh the things he did to her when he was in a mood!

It took but a minute for Lady Ann to feel her body riding the tile wave of her release, but he held her legs captive as he withdrew and kept the flat of his tongue against her heated flesh as he rippled and massaged his expert tongue against her. The second wave burst upon her in a white hot flash and she couldn't remember anything until he crawled up her body and plunged his shaft, almost painfully into her again.

"Oh God!" she cried out as her head rolled back as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Was there ever a man who possessed such masculine intensity, such god-like features as he? Together they rode, with practiced vigor, towards that familiar, yet startling, bliss

Lady Ann was not a young woman anymore, but she possessed a self-assured beauty that could only come with maturity. Her children were grown. Her husband, was long dead, leaving her with enough wealth that she could do as she pleased for the rest of her days. Yet she would happily give it all up to be with this man who reached so far, so deeply into her core, he touched her heart.

His powerful hips thrust up, slowly but deeply into her core. He filled her. He expanded her, and rendered nothing but a body to satisfy his need. And that was all she wanted to be!

His eyes were squeezed shut, his dark brows furrowed in concentration and an expression akin to pain as he settled into a deep, slow, rhythm.

Lady Ann gave a small yelp when he suddenly pulled away and roughly turned her over, with her face down on the bed. Just as quickly he was on top of her again, to ground his pelvis down against her bottom. With some restraint, he slowly pushed her onto her knees and held himself just at her entrance, as he grabbed a fistful of her damp hair.

"How much do you want this?" he growled into her ear. The sound of his deep, velvety baritone sent shivers up and down her spine.

Lady Ann's cry of frustration was muffled by the soiled sheets of the bed. "I want it!"

"Tell me how much you want it!" He smacked her rounded bottom and yanked her head up by a fistful of her hair.

"I'm so close!" she gasped.

He pushed in then slowly pulled his long hard cock out again till just the tip rested at her slick, wet entrance. Her every attempt to buck back onto him was thwarted as he seemed to anticipate her every move. With a deep, throaty chuckle, he held himself just out of her reach even as she screamed, pounded her fists into the pillows.

"Tell me," he said again. "How much do you want it?"

"I want it! I want you! Please, OH PLEASE!!!"

Satisfied with her answer, he slammed himself back into her with a brutal thrust. Ann cried out incoherently as he pounded her relentlessly until the large wooden bed frame shook and tapped out a rhythm against the back wall.

Another thundering orgasm ripped through her and had her shouting mindlessly as she trembled and bucked beneath him. Finally in what seemed like an eternity he grunted his release too, as he drove even hard and deeper into her before he dropped down beside her in exhaustion.

They sprawled on the bed for what seemed like eternity with just the sound of their labored breathing and the sound of great droplets of rain plop onto the awning over Lady Ann's bedroom window. Finally she rolled over to him to marvel adoringly at his well muscled, naked body.

"My Lord Davenport ," she said with a tender smile as she ran her fingers through the damp, dark hairs on his chest. "How I've missed you in my bed. Promise not to stay away so long again."

Lord Davenport started up at the underside of Lady Ann's the canopied bed. His expression was inscrutable, though he seemed deeply lost in thought. Ann knew well enough not to disturb him. Instead she was content to just allow her fingers to lightly trace over the lines of his face. Abruptly he sat up and bounded out of bed. Lady Ann felt the room suddenly grow chilly as she watched him pick up his discarded trousers off the floor and pulled them on again.

"I'm jesting!" she exclaimed with a nervous laugh. "I'm not a simpering young girl to force silly promises on you. I'm far too busy to entertain you more than I already do."

Silence.

"John!" she cried out finally. "Whatever is the matter?"

He finally turned and gave her a weak smile. "My apologies, Ann," he said softly, darkly.

She studied his grim expression carefully. "Won't you stay and dine with me?" she asked almost hopefully. "I have a clever new cook. French of course."

"Not tonight ," he said and went to retrieve his shirt tossed carelessly over the back of a chair. "I dine with Philip tonight. He leaves tomorrow on a rather urgent trip."

Ann tried not to let her disappointment show as she pulled a rumpled sheet over her nakedness and sat up on her haunches. "I hear there was some sort of spat between you and Philip. Has it been mended then? Why is he leaving now?"

It was clear to Lady Ann that Lord Davenport wasn't in the mood to discuss his cousin. A pained expression, such as she had never seen on the Marquess, crossed his handsome face and he sat down rather heavily on the bed beside her.

"He goes to tend to urgent business on my behalf," he finally replied after a moment of pregnant silence.

"You are so good to him!" she declared as she sidled up next to him to rest her chin upon his shoulder. "His own brother does not love him as well as you. Without you to give him a living, I shudder to image where the poor boy would end up."

Lord Davenport moved away from her to finish dressing. "I would not say that I've been so good to him."

In the back of his mind, Lord Davenport was replaying his last conversation with Philip as they left the Warwicks.

Philip was incensed as he had never been before. "I am not reproaching you for my own selfish reasons! God know, I have no claims on her. But what you are doing... what you were doing back there... you've compromised yourself and her!"

For once in his life, Lord Davenport felt properly chastised. Philip was right of course. Had anyone actually seen what he had done... what he might have done....

Philip was on a rant. "It was obvious from the moment you set eyes on her, you felt an attraction. Do you intend to marry the lady?"

Lord Davenport let out a scornful snort.

"Then how could you be so reckless to give no thought for your own reputation, or hers?" Philip nearly shouted. "She is a refined young lady. Innocent and pure. You cannot ruin her honor for your own selfish purpose!"

Lord Davenport knew he could not tell Philip what he had seen the day he saw Lady Evelyn entering Prince Edward's residence. It may crush Philip or it may free Philip from any lingering feelings he still had for her. Somehow Lord Davenport suspected that the reveal would likely crush Philip's sensitive soul, so he said nothing and allowed his cousin to rage on.

"It will not happen again," was all he finally said.

Philip still wasn't quite satisfied. "There's so much of you that was good and honorable. But over the years, you've grown cynical and dark. I know you sneer at social conventions, but you must think of the consequences your actions will evoke. You are dancing on the precipice of grave sin!"

"Enough!" Lord Davenport finally grounded out, his patience at an end. "Your precious Evelyn's honor has always been safe from me. Do not bring it up again!"

Philip flinched slightly as he felt his cousin's words were chosen carefully. There was a meaning there that Philip couldn't fathom. If he hadn't been so incensed with his own indignation, Philip might have paused to ask about it. As it were he wasn't quite finished. "I cannot be a true friend to you if I hold my tongue when I see you in danger. Right now, I see you are a danger to yourself, John. Do not play with the feminine heart so lightly or you may find yourself ruined in the end!"

A deep sigh from Lady Ann brought him back to the present. "I shan't bore you with such things my dear Ann. We'll dine tomorrow night if you are not engaged elsewhere."

"What of the other matter?" she asked softly. "I hear your father is quite keen to see you married."

Oh how quickly gossip travels. "He and everyone else it seems. It's become quite unavoidable at my age you know," he replied sardonically.

"Have you a lady in mind?" she asked lightly; her tone and expression light. Too light.

A corner Lord Davenport's lips pulled back into a knowing smile when he saw her wait with bated breath for his next words. "I suppose I can forgive your curiosity. What else is there to life for your sex but marriage and children? I've not given the matter that much thought. I'm sure she will reveal herself in time."

"What will you tell your father?" she teased.

"That I simply haven't the time nor the patience for a courtship full of empty poetry and meaningless flattery."

"Here they think you a gentleman of few words and such a standard for dignity," Lady Ann said with a throaty laugh. "You should hear all the romantic notions build upon your enigma. All along, you simply couldn't be bothered. Shall I pick your wife then? What would you like in a wife?"

"Someone who wouldn't bore me," he said flatly. "But she I might deem... compatible will not be to my father's liking, and he will convince his Majesty to withhold the royal approval. It will have to be someone to his liking I'm sure. An empty-headed young virgin capable of bearing children but not much else."

"Must she be a virgin then?" she asked with a steady voice. "I mean, wouldn't a more mature woman of proven fertility and her own wealth be just as sufficient?"

"I'm bored with this conversation!"

Lady Ann settled back upon the bed with a tiny smile as she positioned herself so that her naked curved were displayed to their best advantage. "You are a most impossible man, my lord," she said seductively. "Most men look forward to their virgin bride."

He glanced down at her supple white body bearing his marks with a roguishly raised brow and a devilish grin. Slowly and deliberately he crawled back over her delectable body. She squirmed in delight beneath him. "While I like a challenge as much as the next man, I could hardly look forward to some wide eyed, resistant chit screaming bloody murder beneath me. Not when there's much more enjoyable rides!"

She gently pushed him onto his back, and roll with him till she sat straddled on top of him. Very slowly and seductively she started to undo his shirt, placing gentle kisses upon the skin she exposed. Lord Davenport rose upon his elbows to watch her as she slide down to the foot of the bed to kneel between his legs as she unfastened his breeches. He sighed deeply with satisfaction when he felt her hot wet mouth tenderly engulf him. "No, I can't say I would prefer a virgin when there is such a talented.... mouth as yours!"

**************************************

"Oh Edward!" Evelyn screamed, exacerbated, to an empty room as she read over his hastily scribbled note.

He was never known to be dependable when they were children and time hasn't matured him. She hadn't been home but an hour after leaving him when he sent a scribbled note with some excuse for not being able to join her at the theatre that evening after all. Edward's brief note offered no apologies nor did he attempt to make plans for a future date.

Evelyn had really been looking forward to an evening out with Edward. She was simply lonely for a friendly face in the cold, calculating maneuverings of high society, where every look was measured and every word was spoken with purpose and care.

Time seemed out of joint when night after night Evelyn found herself stuck in the milieu of the Peerage progeny. There were so many balls, so many teas and recitals and picnics with the same set of people, making the same conversation, till all the days seemed to meld into one.

Since that afternoon at the Warwicks, the name of Lord John Mallory, the Marquis of Davenport, was on everyone's lips. He was attending more and more society functions as gossip has it that he was finally in the market for a wife. That news sent a jolt of excitement through the bon ton and they gladly made him the cynosure of every event. Afterwards his every move, his every word was described and repeated and analysed for any hidden meaning. Which young lady did he speak to? How often? What did he say?

Luckily Lord Davenport stayed far away from Evelyn. When their paths did cross he barely acknowledged her and would move on quickly. She didn't know what was worse: To be ardent accosted or to be so roundly ignored by him. Yet, she knew he wasn't entirely unaware of her, as she would often feel his eyes upon her, even across the expanse of a crowded room. Whenever she was asked to dance, she felt his eyes travel with her. Whenever she spoke at length to anyone, she felt his presence just on the edge of her periphery.

It never occurred to anyone to think it strange that the most desired bachelor seemed to speak and dance with every young lady of age except for the sought after lady of the season.

One evening, Evelyn found herself in yet another grand salon of another London town mansion, among a roomful of refined and accomplished young ladies. It was just after dinner and the gentlemen hadn't joined the ladies yet in the parlor. One by one the young ladies stood up to practice their playing or their singing at the pianoforte. A great fire had been lit, and its heat mixed with the scent of rose water all the young ladies wore made the air thick with its sweet scent. Yawns were suppressed behind handkerchiefs and fans and a heads nodded off.

The hour was fast approaching when the young nobles would put aside their whiskey, cigars and discussions of politics and sport to join them once more. Until then, the fifteen or so young ladies arranged themselves in their places to practiced their best poses that showed their charms at their best angle. Occasionally one or two girlish eyes stole a glance towards the serenely elegant Lady Evelyn, in a beautiful, rich, grey silk dress, perched upon the edge of a Louis XIV settee. They all sat up just a bit straighter to mimic the elegant lines of Lady Evelyn shoulders and how she folded her gloved in her lap. When Evelyn unfurled her fan, several fans unfurled in imitation.

"They still dislike me though," Evelyn thought. She stretched her stiffened back ever so slightly as she felt the familiar pain of her bodice press into her ribs. Surely her maid, Martha, could lace her less tightly!

As usual Evelyn sat with Regina and Mary, who spoke to no one but each other and ignored Evelyn in particular. Neither young ladies found Evelyn particularly interesting as she didn't seem particularly interested in anything noteworthy. On this evening Regina and Mary seemed more engrossed in their own conversation than ever. Evelyn tried her best to hold her expression immobile as she gave all outward appearance of listening attentively to the pianoforte, but she couldn't help catching snippets of Mary and Regina's conversation.

"...tells me that some husband would want the wife to wrap her lips around it..." Mary whispered, barely able to contain her excitement. "She would be on her knees before him or he would crouch over her when he forces it in. "

" I'm sure no gentleman would ask that of a lady!" Regina whispered back with a shudder. "Surely no refined lady would acquiesce to such a thing... Would she?"

"....he would put it in and out and spill into her that way."

"Spill what Mary?" asked Regina dumbfounded.

"What about the teeth I wonder," said Mary half to herself, ignoring Regina's wide-eyed inquiry. "I can't imagine it would be so pleasant if she were to be, say, startled!"

Both girls stifled their giggles behind their gloved palms when one of the elderly matrons cleared her throat and shot them a harsh glance. Mary and Regina dutifully swallowed their giggles as the recital continued.

"What nonsense!" thought Evelyn, even as she felt her cheeks flush at the remembrance of what Mary had said. "But wrap her lips around what exactly?" Evelyn wondered though she had an inkling that it was obviously lascivious and forbidden. An image of HIS face flashed before Evelyn and she felt a lump rise in her throat and a knot form in the pit of her stomach. She could very well imagine HIM doing just about anything that fit that description!

"Why does he persist on tormenting me? " she wondered out loud to herself, completely lost in her thoughts. "Why can't I banish him from my thoughts?" The same dower faced matron shushed her loudly. Evelyn's lips snapped shut and she lowered her gaze.

Earlier in the evening Lord Davenport arrived late to dinner and sat on the other end of the long dining table. Lord Davenport conducted himself with detached gallantry that only inflamed his admirers. Evelyn ought to be glad of the distance if she hadn't on occasion caught his fervent stare from across the crowded room. Surely his attention could not have gone unnoticed by the others, Evelyn thought. She felt sure one particular lady, a certain Baroness, had cast her eyes between Evelyn and the Marquess on several occasions.

Occasionally she would even hear his voice, that deep timbre baritone carry across even the most expansive space. It never failed to cause heat to rise within her just as a deep chill ran down her spine. Through her periphery she studied his dark, thick, slightly curves brows drawn into a perpetual frown that added to the intensity of his deep-set silvery blue-eyed glare. No matter who she was speaking to, or where she happened to be, she felt his eyes upon her, no doubt plotting his next cruel misdeed. She will not give him another chance, Evelyn promised herself!

The double doors of the salon opened and noisily the lords came bounding in to a tittering of thrilled feminine laughter. The singing mercifully stopped for the moment as the lords and ladies greeted each other in a buzz of spirited conversation and laughter. A cloud of silvery blue cigar smoke and wafts of whiskey fumes mingled with the heavy sweet smell of rose water, made Evelyn's eyes water.

Just a bit longer, then I shall make my excuses, she assured herself