Flower of the Aquitaine Ch. 01

"Highness," I smiled (God knows whether he deserved that appellation, but I never knew a man upset by being accorded a rank greater than the one he actually possessed), "the only thing would be that what my Mistress could offer alongside information would be more fun for you if unshared."

He laughed.

"You have a fine spirit little one! But," he said, turning to Annette, "I would not take what was not willingly given. We Russians are not barbarians."

Annette was in her element.

"Your Highness, my maid spoke but the truth. For a benefactor such as yourself, I should be more than willing to share my treasures."

That smile! My heart melted, and I could see that his was going the same way. How did she do it? There were more beautiful women, to be sure, and greater courtesans, but there is in Annette a goodness of character which shines through. He, like all the others, saw it.

He laughed:

"In which case, Madame, I shall listen and in return, offer you my personal protection."

That was our first meeting with Adam - or Prince Adam Jerzy Czartoryski, to give him his full name.

"Highness, I am ashamed we come before you in such filthy rags. Would you grant us the boon of bathing?" Annette flashed her eyelashes at him.

Tall and slim, with an aquiline nose, Prince Adam looked at us with amusement.

"I see you appreciate the importance of appearances. I like that in a woman." Turning to his servants he gave the order to provide bathing facilities and fresh clothing.

It may only have been a brass tub, but it felt like heaven. As the filth was washed away, I began to touch Annette's chatte. It was, she said the first time since Moscow that she had felt like fucking. She would, she admitted, have fucked whoever the top man was, the fact that Adam looked like a young Greek god was a bonus. Annette laughed as I fluffed her for her new lover.

"I don't know what this Prince is used to from his Russian whores, but I shall show him what a Bordeaux whore can do!" She boasted.

That is my Annette - and you wonder why I adore her?

His maidservants brought us fresh, clean clothes. I helped lace Annette into a corset and dress. I brushed her hair, and asking the clever young one with the squint, whom I later discovered was called Marie, got some powder and rouge. As I held the mirror for Annette she asked:

"Will I do darling?"

"Always my Annette!"

Prince Adam clearly agreed, at least to judge from the look on his face.

"You scrub up well!"

"Thank you Highness," she curtsied, "Annette de Bordeaux at your service."

"Ah, the very flower of the Aquitaine!" He smiled. "My ancestors owned land in Aquitaine, and perhaps you are the first fruits of its return? I have some food and wine prepared, so you two will dine with me and tell me why you are here."