Page 73 of One Night with a Prince
She started to murmur some excuse, but Lady Jenner said, “You can add your store of information to ours.”
“Information about what?”
“Lovers, of course,” Lady Hungate put in. “We’re comparing notes.” She gestured to the volume in Lady Jenner’s hand. “Some silly female has published a book of memoirs about her years as ‘mistress to the loftiest of theton ,’ and we’re trying to guess who she might be.”
Christabel was dying to hear more.
“You have to join us,” Lady Jenner said. “Except for Lady Kingsley, the rest of us here have all been Byrne’s mistresses at one time or another—we simplyhave to know if your experience of him is the same as ours.”
Cursing herself for a fool, Christabel entered and closed the door. She’d been trying to convince herself that she meant more to Byrne than a mere mistress. Listening to his other mistresses would serve as a potent reminder that she was no different to him than the rest of his women. And she needed such a reminder just now.
“Oh, look and see if the author mentions Byrne!” Mrs. Talbot told Lady Jenner as Christabel took theGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlremaining chair, near the door. “He might be in one of the later chapters.”
“I doubt that,” Lady Hungate said. “The writer is clearly a courtesan, and Byrne’s mistresses are always married women.”
“And the occasional widow,” Lady Kingsley said archly.
Did she know that Christabel knew all about her and Byrne? Probably. Lord Stokely was too much of a gossip—and too intent on stirring trouble—not to have told her.
“I’ve read the whole of the memoirs,” Lady Jenner said, “and there’s no mention of Byrne.”
“Perhaps he paid to be kept out of it,” Mrs. Talbot said. “I heard that certain gentlemen received letters offering to keep them out if they paid a particular sum.”
Lady Hungate laughed. “Byrne pay blackmail? He doesn’t care who knows about his love affairs. Sometimes I think the man actually relishes the gossip about him.”
“No doubt,” Lady Jenner remarked. “He probably considers it a good thing to be known as the man with the warmest mouth and the coldest heart.”
“He’s notthat bad,” Lady Hungate chided. “And you have to admit that his prowess in bed makes up for any coolness of manner.”
The women uttered a collective sigh.
Mrs. Talbot turned to Christabel. “Does he still do that thing with his finger where he—”
“Mrs. Talbot, really!” Lady Hungate protested. “I don’t think we should discuss specifics.”
“Why not?” the woman said stoutly. “Who else can we discuss such matters with? And you know very well you loved what he did with his fingers.”
The fact that Christabel knew exactly what the woman was talking about chilled her. Because she loved it, too. Dear Lord, she reallywas just one of his harem, wasn’t she?
“Byrne is wonderful, I’ll grant you,” another woman said, “but he’s not the only man who knows what to do in the bedchamber. I once had this lover…”
The next hour was spent in the most embarrassing and enlightening discussion Christabel had ever heard. Some of the things they talked about, she hadn’t even realized were possible. And some of them were quite intriguing.
She listened avidly, fascinated by the variety of ways a man could pleasure a woman. And vice versa. Perhaps if she could please Byrne in bed with some of these techniques, she might hold on to him after this was over.
She groaned. Hold on to him, indeed. Why did she never learn? And she ought to be ashamed of herself, thinking of an impossible future with Byrne when she should be worrying about Papa andhis future.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
“Getting back to Byrne,” Lady Jenner said, “I’ll tell you what Idon’t miss about the man—his insistence upon using French letters. I like the feel of a man’s flesh inside me, and it’s not as if I’m some whore teeming with disease. If it’s siring children he wants to avoid, why not pull out at the end like the other men?”
Christabel hid her surprise. It never occurred to her that a man might do that.
“I like French letters myself,” Mrs. Talbot retorted. “Less messy. Does he still insist upon it, Lady Haversham?”
Christabel’s cheeks turned scarlet. “I…I…would rather not say.”
“Look how you’re blushing,” Lady Jenner said snidely. “Do we offend you with our frank talk?”
