A Regency Seduction Pt. 01

Almost as if in answer to her prayer, a very handsome angel walked in, brushing past a confused Reeves as though he did not exist.

She blinked. Upon closer inspection, he was not an angel, in spite of his clear blue eyes and golden hair. No, this one was a demon. Captain Oliver Wentworth, her future cousin-in-law.

Reeves coughed and hurried up to him. "Ahem, Sir, like I said, if you would wait outside and present your calling card, I will announce you to the family, and then see if they are at home or not."

Captain Wentworth's gaze briefly took her in. "It seems to me that the family is home, after all. Thank you, Reeves, that will be all."

His commanding tone was clear. Poor Reeves was dismissed.

Vivian, who watched all this without reacting, finally piped up. "Why are you here?"

"Hello to you too, Lady Vivian!" His dispassionate gaze surpassed all her attempts at affecting calm. "It appears I am here to save Phillip from himself, before he makes a very grave error and asks your father for your hand."

She nodded. "Yes, I agree it is for the best. You will find them right inside this parlour. Do hurry."

He stared at her, a little surprised, before a sardonic smile spread across his face. "You do not wish to marry him, then?"

Her urge to scoff got the best of her. "I have managed to avoid proposals from even the most impoverished fortune hunters. I do not wish for my winning streak to end."

He barked out a laugh. "If humans were racehorses, Lady Vivian, I would surely bet on you before anyone else."

She waved a hand in the air, as if to agree with his remark but also remind him that it was not important at the moment. "But Sir, how will you convince my father to turn down Sir Phillip?"

"Leave that to me."

"Ahem, it is better if we discuss this in the library, you see-" Her father came out then, speaking to Phillip, before coming to a halt. He blanched as he saw her conversing casually with the blackest of blackguards of society. "Vivian, run along now."

Vivian consented, only to take a different route to the library to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Surely you can see this is a win for everyone, Applefield. His injuries have left Phillip here incapable of siring children-"

The memory of Phillip's hard length pressing against her, a testament to his capacity of siring children, rushed through her, making her blush.

"-and I am willing to forgive your debts."

There was a moment of silence from everyone inside. Then her father cleared his throat. "And you would be willing to forgive all of my debts?"

"All of them, my friend," Wentworth said, "even the ones from your sunken investments."

"What are you saying?" Phillip protested. "You surely do not mean to buy a young lady's reputation with money."

"Wait a minute!" She strode inside. "He most certainly does, and I would thank you to keep your mouth shut about matters that do not concern you, Sir Phillip." She then looked at Wentworth. "However, since it is my reputation that has been besmirched, it is only fair to let me have a cut of the profit as well."

"Vivian!" Her father was aghast. "Who taught you to speak this way?"

"He did!" She pointed at Phillip, whose eyebrows had gone from slashing upwards in confusion to downwards in anger. "That man is very ill-bred, Papa."

Wentworth barked a laugh. "Much as I am enjoying this, this visit is keeping me away from my wife. I will settle a generous sum on your organisation in addition to waiving your father's debts to me, Lady Vivian. I hope the matter can rest here."

"Deal," she grinned, holding her hand out for him to shake.

Before he could take it though, Phillip stepped between them angrily. "Don't you touch him!"

He grabbed her hand and tugged it hard as though he could pull it out of its socket and carry it home with him.

"Ouch, my writing hand!"

"Unhand my daughter!" Her father finally roared.

"Oh, Father, it is quite all right. He is scarcely going to ravish me on your property."

In spite of himself, Phillip's gaze darkened, boring into her and sending a wave of desire through her body.

Her father grew very agitated. "Young lady, that is quite enough! You will go to your room and you will stay there ... without supper."

She gasped. "What about cake?"

"You will get cake when you start behaving like a gently bred lady," he shot back, now pushing her out physically. "And you," he rounded to the smouldering Phillip and smirking Wentworth, "out! No, not you, Sir Phillip, you have yet to sign the marriage contract."

***

Dear Reader,

The Musgraves do not cease to disappoint. It has been a month since news of Lady Vivian Applefield's secret betrothal to Sir Phillip Musgrave first broke, and with the new connection, the ton reluctantly admitted the Wentworths back into its fold (all though looking at husband and wife, both would much rather be with each other in an empty room than be surrounded by people, but this author digresses).

It seemed that Lady Vivian, known to all as the Terrible Bore, was to finally have her happily ever after with the Murderous Baronet. However, new reports have arisen that Sir Phillip's kind (but brooding) face hides terrible secrets. For he hid not one, but two mistresses in a London Townhouse. At the same time! And as if that were not enough, when he attempted to boot them out of their home summarily, and one revealed that she was pregnant, he forced her to drink a tea which caused her to miscarry!

There you have it, Dear Reader, you were all right about him being murderous all along, except he is a murderer of innocent babes, not adult cousins. This author wonders if Lord and Lady Applefield will have a change of heart. To be sure, the scandal of a broken engagement is far easier weathered than the risk of marrying a murderer!

Vivian was aware that this work was not of her usual calibre. To begin with, everything was a lie. Not only did Sir Phillip not have even one mistress, let alone two, she was quite certain he had never even seen a woman naked outside of books. Since his adventurous groping of her breasts on that fateful day, he had maintained a respectable distance from her, not even stealing a chaste kiss. She had received more enthusiastic embraces from Anne Wentworth, his cousin, than she had from him.

Thinking of Anne, she felt a little pang of regret. There was no reason to drag her into this charade - she had had more than her fair share of misery and deserved some peace and quiet with her husband - but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Vivian hoped that by centring the scandal solely on Sir Phillip, she could avoid causing pain to her new friend.

Now, Phillip, he deserved everything he was going to get, and much worse. She still remembered his scowl as he shared their first - and only - dance on their engagement ball. "Now that you are to be my wife, you will give up this Pennyworth business, and then perhaps I will allow you to continue your suffragist activities," he had said sternly.

"How very magnanimous of you," she had responded with a barely concealed roll of her eyes.

His eyebrows had made that impressive V of theirs again as he frowned at her. "If you do not agree to my terms, your little club will be dissolved, and you will be confined to my estate at East Venmel for the rest of your days."

That had stunned her into silence. He had been right. The law would grant him complete control over her for the rest of their life together, and she could not bear it.

At the time, she had simply nodded, not trusting herself to say anything else. She had lain low for a month, unable to contact her publisher without a lawyer and unwilling to draw her fiancé's ire. Phillip had been lulled into a sense of complacency. Which would make her blow today all the more fatal.

Biting back a smile, she draped a shawl over her shoulders and fastened a bonnet on her head. The letter was tucked safely in the folds of her bodice. She would not risk a pickpocket running off with her reticule and the letter with it. Now all that was left to do was to anonymously slip the article and its accompanying drawing (a ghastly caricature of Sir Phillip looking murderous with a knife dripping with blood, advancing upon a ghastlier caricature of her as she cowered beneath his shadow), under the door of the publisher.

"Going somewhere?" The mocking voice made her jump.

She turned to see who it was and turned a deep shade of beet. "Ahh, Sir Phillip, I had thought to simply run some errands."

He looked around her. "Where is Agatha?"

"She is, um, indisposed. Why, I am practically a married woman now! I do not require an Abigail to chaperone me anymore."

His full lips turned downwards and his green eyes narrowed, until they were almost obscured by his lashes. He was beautiful, and it made her gulp.

"I cannot have my fiancée make a cake of me by walking around alone," he said forbiddingly. "Come, my carriage is right ahead. I will take you where you need to go."

She kept her features devoid of expression. "Why, Sir Phillip, one might think you were lying in wait to ambush me."

He only looked angrier as he dragged her inside the carriage and then sat opposite her. "It is almost as though you have proven yourself to be untrustworthy."

She stilled. Had he been spying on her? Did he know already? Was that why he was glaring at her with murderous intent?

He pulled out a knife out from his pockets, and fearing he would stab her, she flinched. His brows furrowed in disgust.

"I'm not going to murder you, you daft woman."

"Ahh ... my apologies," she said smoothly.

"Not yet, anyway," he growled, and then slashed his knife over her bodice, tearing it open and revealing her creamy breasts ... as well as the letter."

For a second, he swallowed as he took her in, and then common sense got the better of him and he snatched the letter, eyebrows slanting over his eyes as he finished reading.

Meanwhile, all Vivian could do was sit rooted to the spot, frozen by the thought that this man had seen her half naked and then not spared a second glance at her. And then she realised that was not important just then.

"Hey!" She protested. "Whatever happened to an individual's privacy?"

"There is no privacy between spouses, Darling."

"You're not my spouse yet," she pointed out, feeling bolstered by her superior logic.

"Not yet," he agreed amenably, before thumping the carriage, causing the groomsman to set it into motion.

A feeling of dread overtook Vivian. "W-where are you taking me?"

"To my friend Rawls. Do you know him?"

She shook her head.

"No, I suppose he isn't important enough to be noticed by you. But he has a parish just outside of London, a few hours by carriage, and he excels in last minute marriages."

She gasped. "You villain! The banns still need to be read for another two months."

He rolled his eyes. "Wentworth procured a Special License for me. I have carried it around for weeks now, just waiting for you to betray me."

Her eyes widened. He was serious. He could drag her to the altar and make her his wife, and then she would no longer belong to herself. Trying to tamp down on her feelings of despair, she grasped his hands. "Please, Sir Phillip. Return me to my home. Set me free from this betrothal and I will never say a word against your family again! What's more, I will even pay you a dividend from my earnings, so that you will never have to depend on your cousin's largesse again."

He pulled his hands away, looking incredibly displeased. "I have my own income now. And your promises will not sway me. Marrying you is my family's ticket out of social ostracism, and if we were ostracised because of your harsh words and cruel illustrations in the first place, well, then you only have yourself to blame."

Horrified, she began to beat her fist against the walls of the carriage, until it slowed down and eventually came to a halt.

Furious, he placed his palm over her mouth, effectively stifling her, and then called out to the driver. "Keep driving until we reach our destination. Do not stop no matter what."

"Mmffff," Vivian yelled.

"Yes, exactly right, dear," Phillip nodded, almost condescendingly. "Now, come here."

With practised ease, he pulled her onto his lap, his free hand roaming over her breasts and gently squeezing. He dropped a featherlight kiss on her ear, before whispering into it. "I know what you are thinking. You are wondering what I am doing. It is simple enough. I am consummating our union so that, even if my friend Rawls insists on asking if you truly do wish to marry me, you will have no choice but to relent. Now, I will remove my hand from your mouth, my dear fiancée. You can scream all you want, but remember, no one will pay you any mind."

True to his word, he removed his hand, and she began to scream at the top of her lungs. Her voice echoed in the small carriage, but it did not come to a halt again, instead simply trundling along to her doom. The only thing that had happened was she was now hoarse, and Phillip had winced about a hundred times.

Finally, once she was done, she glared at him. "Well?"

He clutched his head and glared back at her as though she had given him a headache. "Well, what?"

"Were you not going to seduce me?" she demanded.

"I do not wish to anymore, do I?" He grumbled. "Damned shrew, doing my head in."

She was outraged. "Sir Phillip, need I remind you that you had your hand on my exposed breast a short while ago?"

He nodded slowly, hope sparking in his eyes. "Yes, let us consider you appropriately compromised. I have better things to do anyway."

Thus saying, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small book, and began to read.

With a scream, she fell atop him, clawing at him like a hellish woman scorned.

"I say!" He looked alarmed as he tried to contain her.

There was a brief struggle while they rolled around, until he finally managed to subdue her. By the end, they were both breathing heavily.

As she looked at him, his emerald eyes hooded with an emotion she could not recognise, she felt that tug inside her again. She groaned.

"Vivian," he said slowly, "do you want me to seduce you?"

Torn for the longest time between preserving her dignity and giving in to her desire, she finally shook her head.

At once, his brooding face gave way to a smile. "Why do I not believe you?" Slowly, gently, he lowered his lips over hers, their pillowy softness setting her nerves on fire.

Hungrily, she kissed him back, wanting more.

"Stop, you shrew," he said, smiling against her mouth. "Let me take the lead, just this once. Here, open your lips for me."

He licked her lower lip with his tongue and she moaned, parting her lips. His tongue gained entry and found hers, teasing her at first, and then wildly mating with it. His hand stroked her hair and then slid down her side, stopping at her waist as he kissed her deeper.

Her head lolled back as he kissed her throat, breathing in her intoxicating scent. Planting his lips on her exposed shoulder, he sucked hard enough to leave a bruise later, inexplicably wanting to mark her as his.

She gasped, "Phillip!"

"Does that hurt?"

"N-no, it feels good."

"Good," he said, as his fingers traced the line of her ruined bodice before dipping into it, making her gasp again. He found her nipple and thumbed it until it stiffened into a peak. And then he lowered his head and gave it the lightest of kisses.

"Oh, Phillip!" She moaned, breathless. All those books with their ridiculous words and positions had not prepared her for this ... this intense feeling.

He took her in his mouth, laving his tongue over her nipple, while his hands continued to stroke her all over, freeing her other breast. He then moved back to her neck, and then her lips, capturing them in a heated kiss, while his hands travelled under her skirts and reached her hot cunt.

"Do you want me to touch you in your most intimate spot?"

"Yes!" Then, realising what she had said, she hastily amended. "I mean no!"

He looked at her, sprawled in front of him like the most decadent meal he could ever imagine, and sucked in his breath. "You are beautiful, Vivian. I have never beheld one such as you, and I never will."

Desire surged through her body, making her entire being ache for him as he touched her pleasure pearl.

"No, don't close your eyes, Vivian," he ordered softly. "Look at me. Let me see you respond to my touch."

Another moan, and she arched her back in an attempt to reach him. He allowed her to draw him into a kiss, as his fingers continued their ministrations. He pushed down firmly on her pearl, making it more sensitive and engorged, and then pinched it while she quivered beneath him. He caressed her sex with his fingers, before plunging one into her canal.

"Is this okay?"

She wanted to tell him to stop, but all she could do was nod through her haze of pleasure.

He pushed another finger in, and then a third, until it felt like she would burst. "Take me, Vivian. Take all of me."

She started to tremble harder, feeling like she was on the precipice of something and needing just one final push.

As he pushed his last finger in, she burst like a dam, cries of pleasure spilling from her throat. The carriage started to spin around her as she was wracked with waves of pleasure.

He pulled his fingers out suddenly, making her moan from the loss.

"Shh, I need to take you right now, Vivian. I cannot wait."

Through heavy lidded eyes, she watched him free his member from his trousers. He looked half crazed and barely able to control himself. "I need you, Vivian. Will you have me?"

"Yes," she breathed, "yes, Phillip - aahhh!"

His manhood was poised at the entrance of her canal.

"Final...chance...to say no," he grunted, looking almost like he was in pain.

Impatiently, she cupped his buttocks and pulled him towards her, nipping at his shoulder.

With a groan, he entered her, filling the spot where she ached for him, his face consumed by a raw hunger. His hips moved over hers as he began to rhythmically take her.

But despite her best efforts to accommodate him, she was failing, and it was hurting too much. "Phillip, please, stop the pain!"

"Shh, Vivian, I cannot stop now." He stroked her hair and kissed her jaw softly. "It will be over soon and then you'll feel so good, I promise."

"I do not like it!" Suddenly, this whole thing seemed like a very bad idea. "I withdraw my consent!" She cried, only to be stifled by his hand.

Her insides ached from his onslaught, and the pain made her dig her nails into his back, drawing blood. And then his hand went down and circled her pearl again, and suddenly the pleasure subsumed the pain and she was crumbling under him again, calling his name over and over again while he continued to drive himself deep into her. His tool hit that magical spot inside her and the surge of sensuality stole her senses, until all she could do was moan incoherently and arch upwards to meet his every thrust.

As ecstasy crested again, her teeth sank into his neck, sweaty and slick, and with a groan, he came inside her.

For a long time, neither of them moved. Phillip gently caressed her hair and peppered little kisses on her freckles ever so often. But he did not speak, and neither did she.

She felt very shy, but she also felt very empowered. So, this is why men went on about their mistresses and their trips to brothels! And then she felt a stab of jealousy. She had given herself to the man who seemed to despise her, whose only reason for wishing to marry her was so he could banish her to the countryside after having his wicked way with her. And then he would probably take up a mistress ... or even two!