Bertrice Small - Fascinated

"As she should have," the Marquess of Hargrave spoke up. "It was extremely cheeky of you, Rexford. Lady Lucinda has not yet, to my knowledge, made her decision."

"No, my lords, I have not," Lucinda told them sweetly. "Instead of judging you so harshly as I did last spring, I am going to give you all an equal chance to win both my hand and my heart. But I must beg you to accept a few little ground rules I think may help us avoid any dissension or confusion. To begin with, I thank you for coming to welcome me back to London." She smiled, and they all beamed back, each convinced that her smile was directed more at him than at his rivals. "I do not, however, wish to see any of you again until next week. I need time to hire my staff and get my house in order. Why, several of the dinner plates from Dr. Wall's pottery in Worcester arrived broken!"

"How dreadful," Lord Bertram said.

"Allow me to replace them," the duke said.

"Do you think you can purchase Lady Lucinda's favor?" the marquess demanded angrily of the duke.

"My lords! My lords! Please, I beg you, do not quarrel," Lucinda pleaded prettily, "but as you seem unable to be civil with one another, you will understand my next request of you. Each of you will call upon me twice a week. The duke on Mondays and Thursdays. The marquess on Tuesdays and Fridays. Lord Bertram on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Sunday I reserve for myself to attend church and rest. We will begin with a morning call. Then we shall move to afternoon tea, and then, perhaps, an evening party. That way you shall each have an equal chance with me. We shall be seen in public enough so that when my brother announces my betrothal none will think it strange, for they will have seen that we have resolved our former differences of last season." She smiled again at them. "I do think it is a most sensible plan, my lords."

"Very sensible!" the duke agreed.

"Capital." The marquess nodded.

"Practical," Lord Bertram approved.

Lucinda arose from the settee where she had been sitting. "Then, my lords, until next week when we begin anew." She held out her hand to them, and each kissed it as she murmured, "Good day, my lord duke. Good day, my lord marquess. Good day, Lord Bertram." And they were gone.

As Lucinda had come up to town in her brother's traveling carriage, she was now without transport. She purchased a beautiful little town coach that could seat four. It was not new, but had been previously owned by a gentleman who had recently retired to the country. It was in excellent condition. Four matching gray horses were included in the sale, as was the former owner's coachman. The coach and horses were stabled two streets away with the coachman, who lived above the stables. By the end of her first week back in London, her household was in order, and she had even found a fashionable modiste to make her some new gowns. Lucinda was ready to receive her suitors. It was six weeks until the Countess of Whitely's ball.

On Sunday evening Lucinda called John and Polly to her. "I promised you when we arrived in London I should tell you the identity of The Master. It will be our secret. The gentleman in question is Lucian Robert Charles Phillips, the Earl of Stanton."

"But what good does it do you, m'lady," Polly said, "if you are never to see him again and must marry another?"

"Polly, did I not say I would not have that trio of villains? You must trust me. I promised my brother he would announce my betrothal at the Whitley ball. I did not say to whom that betrothal would be."

"And will his lordship be agreeable?" John asked, suddenly understanding his mistress's plan.

Lucinda chuckled. "Do you think he won't be, John?" she replied.

Now it was the footman who chuckled. "He'll be surprised, m'lady, he will. You'll forgive me if I say that you're a deep one. But I don't think he'll be unhappy about such a turn of events."

"This does not go beyond this room," Lucinda told them, and they both nodded. "Now, the first banns for your marriage were read this morning in church. Two more Sundays, then you will marry, my dears, and you shall have a hundred pounds from me as a wedding gift."

The two servants thanked her profusely. A hundred pounds was a very, very generous gift.

The following morning the Duke of Rexford arrived at eleven to be ushered into Lucinda's bedchamber. She was sitting up in her bed, a lacy shawl about her shoulders, having her breakfast. She smiled, and held out her hand to him. "Richard, good morning! Is it that late already? I have had such a busy week last week and am exhausted."

He kissed her hand, his eyes lingering at the spot where the shawl's two sides met. He was certain her breasts were bare beneath. "You look as fresh as a daisy, my dear," he said, sitting on the edge of her bed, but careful not to tilt her breakfast tray.

"Polly, get his lordship a saucer of tea. I keep an excellent stock of leaf that my brother William sends from India."

"When are you going to cease this game and agree to marry me, Lucinda?" he said.

"Now, Richard, you must not press me. I shall not make my decision until the very night of the Whitley ball." She smiled seductively.

"Yer tea, yer lordship," Polly said, pushing the fragile cup and its deep saucer into his hand.

On Tuesday Lucinda entertained the Marquess of Hargrave in her back garden as she cut roses, the dew still upon them.

On Wednesday Lord Bertram arrived to take her for a ride through the park in his open carriage.

Thursday the duke cornered her in her morning room and, pushing her to the yellow settee, fondled her breasts. She scolded him prettily.

Friday the marquess stole a kiss.

Saturday Lord Bertram attempted to put his hand beneath her skirts and was slapped lightly for his trouble, but she gave him a kiss on the cheek to assure him there were no hard feelings.

Sunday Lucinda arrived at church to discover her three suitors waiting for her in her pew. She did, however, go home alone.

The next week was much the same, but Lucinda did manage to get the gentlemen to appear in public with her more, assuring them it was better that they did. The third week afternoon visits began, and Lucinda liked it a great deal more, for she was able to convince her suitors to take her riding in the park which kept them out of the house. The fourth week, however, each was insistent upon staying for tea after they returned Lucinda home. Only the presence of the footmen serving, and Polly hovering, kept her from their lustful advances.

Four weeks into this most public courtship, Lucinda began appearing at parties with her suitors in tow. Now it was impossible to keep them separated, and she was only able to keep to her schedule by allowing one of them to escort her home each evening.

The carriage rides back to Traleigh Square were passionate. Cooped within the closed coach with the duke, the marquess, or Lord Bertram, Lucinda had no choice but to yield to their overtures. She did so coyly, sighing deeply when she was kissed, murmuring as her bosom was fondled hotly by eager hands. The marquess surprised her one night, getting his hand beneath her gown and its petticoats to frig her quite enthusiastically until she came. Then, despite his portly figure, he managed to kneel before her and, sticking his head beneath her gown, licked and sucked at her until she came again. Lucinda did not hold back or demur. She enjoyed the release he gave her and told him so.

"When we are wed, my dear," the marquess assured her, "I shall give you even greater pleasure."

It was obvious he could not keep his little triumph to himself. Several days later on their journey home from a delightful evening of card playing, the duke directed his coachman to drive through the park. In the darkness of the carriage, he lifted her voluminous skirts, then putting her, spread-legged, upon his lap, fucked her with vigor even as he tongued her nipples. Afterward he praised her excitement as quite stimulating to him and, handing her out of the vehicle, escorted her to her door, kissing her hand chastely.