Page 10 of The Lady's Guide to Well-Endowed Dukes
While the book continues to sell in pleasing numbers, I’m reluctant to admit that almost two decades have passed since the text was substantially revised. Naturally, times change, and it falls to me to ensure that the guide begun by Flora Dalreagh—our legendary forebear—remains pertinent.
Our interaction convinced me at once that you are a suitable candidate to tackle a particular segment of the chapters: namely, those relating to sexual congress.
You shall not mind my candid speaking, for you are not a woman who shrinks from naming a spade.
I hope, most sincerely, that both your inclination and your schedule will allow you to take up the gauntlet and bring our modest little book into the 20th century.
With all regard, and in anticipation of your reply,
Lavinia Dalreagh
Countess Dunrannoch
From her nightstand,Estela flipped open the small leather-bound book, which Lady Dunrannoch had pulled from the depths of her capacious handbag to press upon her new acquaintance.
In fact, it was not the first time she’d seen the strange little collection, which seemed to comprise largely of remedies for warts and chilblains and other unsavory conditions. Hadn’t that peculiar young woman, Miss Mortmain, been reading it? Or had it been delicious Mr. Burnell? Estela’s memory failed her.
In any case, she’d perused it for an hour or so during the interminable rail journey on her way to Venice.
The whole thing was dry as dust and could certainly do with sexing up a bit. Some frank advice in that department was severely lacking. Knowing how to lance a boil was all very well, but there were more advantageous skills. She hadn’t landedherself four extremely wealthy husbands by knowing how to treat carbuncles.
There were a few promising sections, but far too vaguely written to be of any real use. If one had the boldness to name a chapter ‘Seduction’ one ought to favor the reader with at least a few little somethings to make the mouth water.
As for the chapter entitled ‘Bedroom Matters’, Estela could only roll her eyes.
For those who lack warm feelings towards their husband, bedroom sports are more to be endured than enjoyed. However, allow him as many freedoms as you can bear, even where his practices may be against your own inclinations. Only ensure that he does not injure you and, in time, you may take pleasure in what first seemed abhorrent.
There was some truth in it, she supposed. Estela’s last husband, being well advanced through his winter years, had been confined to his bed for the majority of their seven months of marriage. She’d performed her wifely duties to the extent required, considering the frail state of his health. Fortunately, Ephraim had largely preferred to have her read to him and had been content to haveThe Iliadrecited in translation rather than the original Greek. Fittingly, he’d drifted off somewhere in the thirteenth book, just as Zeus was at last taking leave of the battlefield.
She’d discreetly attended to her own physical needs during that time, largely aided by two of the more handsome footmen employed at their London residence. Estela knew she was bad—if not quite to the bone. Husbands were useful for many things, but it was foolhardy to rely upon them to satisfy sexual needs—especially when marrying men so much older.
There was a snippet which mentioned lovers, but she’d scoffed to read it.
A lover should never be chosen like a tidbit at a supper buffet. The brief pleasure of conjoining flesh is nothing to the deeper satisfaction of a lover who speaks to the mind and the heart. Where physical passion meets emotional and intellectual compatibility, a couple may enter into a lifelong partnership without regret.
Really, as if one entered into a fling with the intention of keeping the object of one’s lust around for more than a few months—at the utmost. Lovers fulfilled a specific purpose. There was not a single one of her own with whom she’d have wanted to prolong matters.
As for husbands, they fell in a different category altogether, and could be discounted. She considered herself fortunate that all her marriages had been brief—even if she had been fond of each groom, to an extent.
And what did it mean to ‘speak to the mind and heart’?
Sentimental twaddle!
The young women of today would be better served to know how they could have their cake and eat it, taking pleasure as they desired while avoiding any unpleasant repercussions. Estela had plenty of experience on that front.
Her first inclination had been to decline Lady Dunrannoch’s proposal, but something about the project appealed to her. If the Countess wanted the book brought into the new age, she would certainly do her best to oblige, and have a little fun in the process.
Oh yes. We can certainly improve upon this!
Estela tossed the book across the bedspread.
And if Lord Rockley is as impressive in the bedroom as I’m confident he will be, it will provide just the sort of inspiration I need.
Estela squeezedher eyes shut against the morning sun penetrating the drapes. The day was going to be another fine one and the sea was calm, but her head spun, nonetheless. It was still early, with no voices carrying from the deck—only the occasional caw of the ever-whirling gulls.
She’d drunk more than was wise the night before. The brandy had been a particular mistake.
If Rockley had only played along and returned with her for what would have doubtless been an enjoyable romp, she’d be waking up now feeling becalmed and wonderfully herself. As it was, she had a low thump in her temples, her stomach was gurgling uncomfortably, and objects she knew to be stationary were swirling at an off-putting velocity.
