Page 7 of Madcap with a Marquess
He took a sip of his drink and rolled his lips inward, his friends watching him through narrowed eyes. “I came here tonight to gain…knowledge…of certain things. Experience for—” He glanced away from his friends and patted the arm of his chair. “For conjugal visits,” he murmured.
“Fuck,” Rafe breathed. “Conjugal visits? He’s a… No. I cannot say it.”
Rupert looked up and caught Derek’s gaze. Derek was leaning forward now, studying him closely. “Rupert…are you a virgin?”
Rupert gave a succinct nod.
“I had thought if I were to come here tonight, I would have a better idea of what I’m doing when I…” Rupert trailed off and messaged his temples. God, it all sounded so dim-witted now that he was saying it out loud.
“Why not practice on your wife, mate?” Rafe chimed in. “Isn’t that the only benefit to a wife anyhow? A thorough bedding whenever you please, without costing you a thing.”
“I’m not sure you can bed your wife whenever you please.” Rupert frowned. “I would think she—”
Derek cut him off. “She won’t know any better, Rupe. From what I’ve heard, it is never good for the woman the first time. You can fumble all you want, and she won’t know the difference. It’ll probably be a blessing for her that it’ll be over quickly.”
Rafe snickered.
“You both don’t understand. Lady Francine…she is not like other young ladies of the ton. If I do something embarrassing…if I mess up somehow…” He dropped his head in his hands and spoke to the floor. “She will tease me mercilessly. She’ll come up with another nickname. Like Roop-a-toot-toot that time I accidentally broke wind in front of her when we were children.”
Coughing and sputtering sounded above him, and Rupert glanced up. Rafe was red in the face, pounding his chest, tears leaking from his eyes, and Derek made the poorest attempt known to man at maintaining composure before dissolving into laughter.
“Oh, Rupert. She sounds like a bloody gem,” Rafe said. He paused, chest expanding with a deep breath, and he gave it one more hardthwack. He rubbed his chin and looked thoughtfully at Rupert. “You know, from what you’ve told us about her somewhat outrageous behavior, I bet she’ll be a fantastic shag.” He leaned forward. “If you’d like, I could do a…preliminary bedding of her. Train her up for you. Teach her all the tricks.” He winked.
The blood in Rupert’s veins shot through him like liquid fire. “You touch her, and I’ll see you at dawn.” His lips pulled back, and he was overcome by an overwhelming desire to crack open Rafe’s ribcage, rip out his heart, and crush it into a mutilated mess beneath his boot. He let out a low growl. Franny washis.
Derek and Rafe stared at him, bug-eyed.
“I believe, Rafe…” Derek said thoughtfully, eyes still wide. “You have finally found a way to hit a nerve with Rupe.” He tilted his head, that unruly lock of hair falling over his brow again. “Giventhatreaction, I think you will do just fine, Rupert. I assume you know where everything goes, yes?”
Rupert let out a slow breath, his pulse calming slightly. He nodded once.
“I’ll give you a hint then. The louder she is, the better you’re doing.”
He frowned. “Louder? Are we supposed to carry on conversation during?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Rafe muttered, palming his face.
Derek’s lips twitched, green eyes dancing. He shook his head. “Not quite, Rupe.” He paused. “Well, sometimes carrying on conversation can be…titillating.”
Rafe nodded in firm agreement, and a wicked grin split his face. “Remember that time we got that buxom blonde off just by talking to her?”
Derek snorted. “I don’t know if we can claim it was just our words. I think the arm of the chair she was riding helped a bit.”
Rupert blanched. “R-riding her chair?” he asked weakly, visions of the scene his friends were painting filling his mind. But in his mind, the woman wasn’t blonde or buxom. She was raven-haired and all long limbs.
“We’ll come back to that,” Derek said, biting back his grin. “First, have you ever perused any lewd literature or pamphlets?”
Warmth flooded Rupert’s cheeks, and his mother’s frequent warnings rang violently in his ears, but he held Derek’s stare and nodded.
“Excellent. So, you have a rudimentary understanding.” He glanced at Rafe and nodded toward their empty scotch glasses. “Fill ‘em up, Rafe. This lesson is going to require liquid fortitude.” Derek leaned back and steepled his fingers, the tips resting below his mouth. “All right, Rupert, what questions do you have for us?”
Rupert swallowed down his shame, cleared the embarrassment from his throat, and took a deep breath of courage. In for a penny, in for a pound.
“Do you have any specific techniques or tips I should know about?”
Rafe’s lips curved into a smirk, and he rubbed his hands together, danger glinting in his dark eyes.
“Do we ever.”
