Marguerite stayed where she was and leaned back against the door. She hoped her mother couldn’t see her too well.
“I can understand Philip’s frustration, Maman. You are a very busy woman.”
“He knew that when we married. That is no excuse.”
Marguerite knew it was pointless to argue. She’d never understood the inner workings of her mother’s tempestuous marriage with Philip. They, however, seemed to thrive on it.
“And what are you doing here, Marguerite, so flushed and unlike yourself?”
Silently Marguerite groaned. Her mother was notorious for her ability to sniff out romantic discord, the beginnings of an affair or the ending of a marriage.
“I came to see Lisette.”
“And?”
“And she was upstairs in the pleasure house with a Captain Gray, so I went to find her.”
“That must have been a while ago, as Lisette was just here talking to me.”
“I know, I just saw Captain Gray on the stairs. He told me Lisette was here.”
Helene stopped rocking. “Marguerite, come and sit where I can see you, and tell me what is going on.”
When her mother used that voice, it was very hard to disobey. Marguerite came closer, trying to decide which pieces of the story she could share and which not.
“Bon,” her mother said. “Now tell me why you lingered in the salons.”
“Because Lisette called me a coward and dared me to look around while I was up there.”
“That sounds like your sister. But why did you agree?”
“Because I was curious?”
“Finally!” Helene clapped her hands together. “I knew you were too young to bury yourself in your husband’s grave.”
“Maman . . .” Marguerite hunched one shoulder.
“Now what advice can I give you about starting again?” Helene sat forward, her expression purposeful. “The most important thing, I believe, is how to avoid a pregnancy, oui?”
Marguerite stared helplessly at her mother. Perhaps it would be better to simply keep quiet and listen. She might pick up some useful advice without having to betray herself.
“Yes, Maman.”
“I’ve spoken about this with many women over the years, and I have a few ideas about when is the best time to conceive or, in your case, to avoid making love.” She frowned at Marguerite. “And before you suggest that any real gentleman would pull out before his seed emptied into your womb, then think again. In the throes of passion, many men forget this most basic thing, or would secretly like you to be pregnant in the first place.”
“I’m not sure . . .”
Helene kept talking, her slim fingers ticking off each point as she made it. “It is the middle of your moon cycle that you must avoid. I think a woman is most fertile then. I’m not sure why, but that seems to be the case. It’s easy to work that out, my dear, just note the day you start to bleed and count on from there until the day you bleed again.”
“Maman . . .”
Helene stood up and patted Marguerite’s shoulder. “I know— it’s a lot to take in. Come and see me tomorrow and I’ll show you how to use a sea sponge dipped in vinegar as well.”
What on earth did vinegar have to do with anything? Marguerite dredged up a smile. “I’ll do that, and thank you.”
Marguerite got up too and gathered her belongings. Her mother’s businesslike attitude toward sex never ceased to amaze her. At least it had stopped her inquiring too deeply about exactly what was wrong. Perhaps she should be grateful for her mother’s incessant chatter. Marguerite clutched her bonnet to her chest. And perhaps her mother knew her better than she realized and had achieved what she intended all along.
“Here we are.”
David opened the door to his lodging and led Anthony inside, shutting the door behind him. Anthony looked around the Spartan apartment in surprise.
“It’s very clean.”
David shrugged as he took off his hat and gloves. “When you’ve lived in a tiny cabin on a ship for months, you learn to stow your belongings carefully so that they don’t all descend on you in a storm.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
Anthony continued to walk around the room, touching the mahogany desk in the corner, the pair of leather wing chairs by the welcoming fire.
“Do you live alone?”
“Yes, I have a man who comes in every morning to help with the essentials, and a woman who cooks for me when I’m here. I’ve never cared to have live-in help. I find it a little suffocating.”
“I agree, but as I still live at home, there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Would your family object if you had your own suite of rooms?”
Anthony stroked the worn brown leather of the chair. “It’s complicated. My father almost lost one of his sons, and he’s determined not to lose the other.”
“That must be something of a burden for you.”
“I suppose it is. I’ve never really thought about it before.”
“Perhaps you should. My father was glad to see the back of me.” David’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “He insisted that as the fourth son of an impoverished earl I was a damned inconvenience. I was expected to make my own way in the world.” David picked up a candelabrum and headed down a dark hallway. “Bring the brandy.”
Anthony picked up the bottle and two glasses and followed the source of the light. He drew in an unsteady breath as he realized he was in David’s bedroom. Again, the room was stark— a narrow bed with dark red coverings and two other pieces of furniture that looked distinctly foreign.
David indicated a large black lacquered chair that sat in front of a mirror.
“I bought this in Heung Gong harbor a couple of years ago.” His fingers trailed over the high ladder back and down to the red silk cushion on the high seat. “It is exactly the right height for shibari.”
“What is that?”
David smiled. “Literally it means beautiful bondage, or so I was told. It’s an ancient erotic art from the land of the rising sun. The exact translation proved elusive and, to be honest, the pleasure was so extreme that I didn’t really care to inquire any further. I was too busy enjoying it.”
Anthony licked his lips as his excitement grew. “Will I enjoy it too?”
“I hope so. Will you take off your clothes?”
8
“What exactly are you going to do to me?”
Anthony stripped and watched as David took off his coat, cravat and waistcoat and then opened one of the drawers in the red lacquered oriental cabinet beside the bed. As David turned back to him he couldn’t suppress a tremor of excitement.
“I’m going to tie you up, but I want to take care of your arse first.”
He opened a flat box to reveal a collection of jade and ivory phalluses and a selection of perfumed oils.
“Do you have a preference?”
Anthony swallowed hard. “You’re not going to fuck me?”
“Perhaps later. There are more interesting things I wish to try first.” David hesitated, his fingers wrapped around one of the carved ivory shafts. “Unless you have changed your mind.”
“No, I haven’t. It’s just that Minshom . . .”
“Always fucked you first? But I’m not Minshom, and remember, I’m trying to show you that there are other ways to achieve the levels of pleasure you crave.”
Anthony mustered a smile. He had to stop expecting the worst and trust his companion. “Then go ahead, choose for me and I’ll be content.”
“I hope you’ll be more than content.” David stroked one long finger along the length of Anthony’s already erect cock. “I want to hear you scream.”
He drew his hand away from Anthony’s shaft, over his hip and cupped his buttock. Anthony sighed and tried to relax. He was so eager to fuck that the slightest touch made his cock twitch and his balls tighten with need. David moved behind him, his fingers stroking and caressing Anthony’s flesh until he wanted to groan.