Page 15 of The Lady's Guide to Well-Endowed Dukes
Feeling himself color, he ceased bumbling on. He was guilty as charged.
He’d been reluctant to simply look at her, but he did so now, and felt his pulse rise in pace. The simplicity of the blouse, adorned only minimally with lace, only drew greater attention to the beauty of the wearer. Her complexion was that of an English rose, while the darkness of her hair, pinned in lush waves, spoke of more exotic heritage. As for those dancing eyes, which seemedalways to be laughing at him, he could not exactly decide the color. Some shade of green, though flecked with warmth, as if from the shaded sun. With the voiles at her window being drawn, the room was bathed in filtered gold.
“Lord Rockley?” She summoned his attention once more. “Shall we begin? We have a lot of ground to cover. I suggest we begin with an assessment of the situation. I have questions, which I hope you’ll answer candidly, before we move to a more practical approach.”
If he was not mistaken, her gaze dropped by increments, coming to rest in the vicinity of his lap.
He adopted a business-like manner. “First, there should be rules. This being a highly unusual arrangement, we should both be aware of where we stand.”
“If you wish.” She answered sweetly. “I’m content to be of use to you, however you might see fit.”
“We are agreed then, for there to be no emotions involved? I know women like to have feelings.”
“We do, but I promise not to run away with any notions of being in love with you. That would be quite contrary to my plans for this trip, not to mention my immediate and long-term future.”
“Very good.” It was a relief, though her no-nonsense approach was rather more forthright than he’d been anticipating. “Nevertheless, it might be an idea to know one another’s first names, don’t you think?”
She rested one finger upon her chin. “A simple ‘Madame’ will do for me, if my married name is too much of a mouthful. Otherwise, I am Estela. For my part, it suits me perfectly well to call you ‘Your Grace’.”
“It does not suit me.” He couldn’t help being abrupt. He was yet to become accustomed to his new status and took no pleasure from it. Hearing it only made him think of his brother,or their father. It was not an address he’d ever thought to associate with himself. Besides which, there was such a taunting to the way she spoke. “I prefer simply Rockley, or Theo, if you wish it.”
“Theodore? A gift from god? How apt”—her lips twitched in teasing fashion—“all things considered.”
“As I said before, I consider my condition more a curse than a blessing.” There was a great deal riding on whatever happened next in this room. She’d said she had some ideas to put forward. If they proved successful, it would be a great weight lifted. If not…
“You must know, a man does not like to consider himself a failure.” Resting his forearms upon his knees, he kept his gaze upon the soft pile of the Persian carpet. “If you are unable to solve this predicament—or to help me solve it myself, I should say—it is a cross I will likely bear forever more.”
“I do understand.” Her tone was suddenly serious. She leant forward, touching his hand lightly. “Be assured, you shall have my advice, in all earnestness.”
Taking a deep breath, he sat straighter again.
“Now, first things first.” She gave him a bright smile. “Much of what I shall teach you concerns your bride more than yourself. It is she who must be placed at ease. You must take time to prepare her, to seduce and to arouse, to make her feel cherished and desired.”
He nodded. It would be no easy task, but he owed it to Marjorie to do his best. Above all, he could not risk doing her harm. To have even a chance of performing the act sufficiently to allow conception, she would need to allow him the liberties of the conjugal bed.
“It would help greatly if your bride also received some honest counsel. One would hope her mother would see to the matter but it cannot be taken for granted.” She looked thoughtful forsome moments. “If there were some comprehensive manual on the subject, I would suggest its purchase but I know of nothing, as yet, which would do more than alarm her or confuse.”
Rockley appreciated the conundrum.
For young men, there were any number of avenues through which to learn prior to meeting one’s spouse in the marriage bed. Besides a wealth of literature, accompanied by detailed illustrations, there were opportunities for first-hand practice—and the conversation of one’s peers. He’d been listening to others’ boastful tales of conquest long before he was of an age to attempt anything himself.
“It may be possible for me to meet with your bride in person, after you are wedded but prior to any relations occurring,” Mrs. Bongorge went on. “Though I would certainly not wish to intrude.”
His first reaction was one of horror. It would not do, at all, for the two to meet. For all her innocence Marjorie would guess, surely, at something being amiss, and it would only create awkwardness.
“Let me think on that.” It would not do to offend Mrs. Bongorge by dismissing the idea out of hand.
“In any case,” she continued, “there are other things Miss Maitland may do to ready herself for you, though I think these tasks will also need to wait until you are man and wife. One moment…”
Turning, she brought forward a box from her dressing table which he had assumed contained jewelry. Her opening of the lid allowed him to see exactly what was inside. It was not the first time he’d seen such objects, but he was taken aback by breadth of her collection.
“I assume you are familiar with such toys.” Matter-of-factly, she withdrew the smallest from where it nestled on its velvet bed. She looked at the column fondly.
“Finest Carrara marble. I’ve heard that our old Queen possessed a set just the same, gifted by her dear Albert. These were a wedding present from my third husband. They were custom-made, with the bulbous end designed to resemble his own anatomy. He did so like to watch me pleasure myself.”
Rockley’s sharp intake of breath brought on a coughing fit. Mrs. Bongorge jumped up in alarm, then hurried to the small room adjoining and returned with water.
“I’m fine.” He croaked, thumping at his chest. “It was only the surprise of…”
