Seducing the Master (An Erotic Historical in the Red Chrysanthemum Series) (18 page)

He was surprised to find Miss Katherine had
arrived early—but soon discovered the reason.

“His lordship and his wife await upstairs in
your appointed room,” Tippy told him as she took his hat and
gloves.

“His lordship?” he echoed, unsure if the
presence of the viscount portended good or bad.

Tippy nodded before receiving his cloak. “I
informed them that you had not arrived and I had no instructions
for the evening as of yet.”

“Well, as they are here, we may dispense
with any preparations. Thank you, Tippy.”

She bobbed a curtsy, and he headed for the
stairs, stopping only to retrieve
Fanny Hill
from the inn’s
small library. In the room he had occupied with Miss Katherine and
Miss Terrell the prior evening, he found the viscount and Miss
Katherine, who sat with her eyes downcast, her hands in her
lap.

“Lord Wendlesson, Miss Katherine,” Charles
greeted. To his lordship, he asked, “Will we have the pleasure of
your company this evening?”

Wendlesson cleared his throat. “I considered
your advice, that I should take part in my wife’s education, as it
were. It would seem she made much progress last evening, and I
commend you on obtaining the assistance of Miss Terrell. It has
proved a wise action.”

Charles started and wondered if
that
was what compelled more than his recommendation to his
lordship.

“You owe no credit to me,” Charles said.
“The presence of Miss Terrell was a unique circumstance not
prompted by any decision on my part.”

Wendlesson raised his brows. “You did not
ask her to assist you?”

“I believe, as she had no further
commitments that night, she offered her support to your wife.”

“Well, in either case, I am glad she proved
of use and would like to call upon her services once more.
Tonight.”

Charles frowned. After his dream last night,
he had no wish to see Miss Terrell. He would atone for his unkind
statement at some later time.

“She may not be available.”

“Send for her and let us find out.”

“She is spoken for.”

“By whom? Sir Arthur?”

“Yes. We ought to consult with Madame
Devereux if we are to occupy Miss Terrell’s time any further.”

“Fine, fine. I am certain I can persuade
Madame while you procure Miss Terrell.”

The viscount left before Charles could think
of any other objection. He turned to Miss Katherine.

“Is it your desire as well to have Miss
Terrell present?” he inquired. “This is
your
education, and
I will do what is in
that
interest.”

Miss Katherine nodded. “He was quite pleased
when I described the…what happened.”

He approached and knelt beside her. “Were
you
pleased?”

A familiar flush crept up her cheeks. She
nodded. “Especially now that my husband is pleased.”

“The reverse is true, too. Your husband is a
good man, and what pleases
you
, pleases him.”

“The presence of another female did afford
me some comfort yesterday. I-I am still in much, er, fear of what
is to come. A female, a member of my own sex, has a more gentle
touch.”

Charles nodded. He rose to his feet. Miss
Terrell had an agenda. Her motivations need not lie in tandem with
that of Miss Katherine, but he would not tarnish Miss Katherine’s
confidence in the blackamoor without cause.

“If Madame Devereux does not permit Miss
Terrell’s participation, and you desire the companionship of
another female, there are others I can appeal to,” he said.

“If possible, I should prefer Miss Terrell
as she is already—already acquainted with me.”

“Then I shall determine if she is disposed
and willing. But we will commence our lesson upon my return, with
or without Miss Terrell.”

She nodded.

He left the room and went downstairs to
inquire where Miss Terrell might be.

“She might be with Sir Arthur,” he said to
Tippy.

The maid shook her head. “He come round
early, as he done yesterday. Miss Terrell is likely in her room
watching Miss Sarah’s son.”

“And where is her room?”

“Up in the attic.”

“The attic?”

Being an inn, there were rooms aplenty in
the Red Chrysanthemum. Rarely were they all engaged. He shook his
head at Joan’s parsimony. He headed back upstairs, all the way to
the attic this time. He knocked upon the door.

“Master Gallant,” Miss Terrell greeted with
a wide smile. He could not help but marvel at her even, white
teeth. Were blackamoors commonly blessed with such perfect
smiles?

“I was just about to seek you out and ask if
I might be of assistance?” she continued as she allowed him passage
into the room.

Wanting a private word with her, he entered.
The space hardly qualified as a room, for he could not stand
upright. There were two beds, a small chest of drawers and a table,
upon which a lone candle provided the only light.

“This is where you sleep?” he asked.

“With Lady Sarah and her son.”

“Lady Sarah?”

“She was once married to a baronet. To me,
she is Lady Sarah, a much truer lady than many a privileged member
of the
ton
.”

“Where are they now?”

“Lady Sarah is with a patron and her son
with Mrs. Hartshorn. I am, therefore, free this evening and at your
disposal, Master Gallant.”

“I will have a word with you first,” he
said, “but let us step out where we can stand without bending.”

He would have to talk to Joan about the
accommodations for Miss Terrell and Lady Sarah. They could have
better.

Miss Terrell followed him to the stairs,
upon which they could stand without bumping their heads into the
ceiling.

“About your assistance, Miss Terrell,” he
said when they had descended the stairs midway.

She was a few steps ahead of him, and when
she turned, she stared straight into his crotch. Though taking
another step would bring him closer to her, he opted for that over
the unnerving level of her eyes.

“Your presence did comfort Miss Katherine,”
he said. “For that reason alone, I am willing to accept your
assistance for another night.”

She closed the final step between them. “I
am happy to be of assistance.”

She began playing with the bottom-most
button of his waistcoat, but he grasped her by the wrist and
replaced her hand by her side.

“That is precisely what I will not allow.
There is only one charge that will take place this evening:
furthering the introduction of Miss Katherine into the ways of the
Red Chrysanthemum. No other objective will interfere in this
singular purpose. Do you understand?”

“Did I not dedicate myself appropriately
last night? Was your purpose not aided by my efforts?”

He had to admit she had done well by Miss
Katherine. Nonetheless, he replied, “I wonder that I can trust you.
Miss Katherine is the priority.”

“I understand, Master Gallant. If I should
detract from the task at hand, I pray you punish me. As hard as you
like.”

“There is much more of
Fanny Hill
I
could read to you,” he retorted.

Her smile fell into a frown. He could not
resist a sense of triumph, fleeting though it was, when he was with
this woman. Recalling how he had made her frown their last moment
together yesterday, he said, “I mean to apologize for my statement
yester night.”

She looked down, confirming that his words
yesterday had, indeed, not been well received.

“It was spoken in haste,” he continued, “in
an effort to make it known that I do not desire your seduction or
your attentions. Nevertheless, it was unkind of me, and I’m
sorry.”

She looked pensive, and he wondered if his
prior words had stung her more than he thought.

“No one’s ever said sorry to me before,” she
murmured. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “But you
needn’t worry of such things, Master Gallant. My cunnie is not made
worse for wear. I promise you’ll like it all the same.”

Turning on her heels, she went lightly down
the stairs, saying over her shoulder. “Come. Let us not keep Miss
Katherine waiting.”

He did not follow immediately. He saw that
his statement last night had hurt her, but he had not expected such
ready forgiveness. And how quickly her bold confidence had rallied!
And her impudence returned!

“The Viscount Wendlesson awaits as well,” he
said when he caught up to her.

She paused and smiled. “The more the
merrier.”

He was not surprised that the addition of
another did not daunt her.

“Your lordship,” she said with a curtsy upon
entering the room.

“Miss Terrell,” replied the viscount, his
eyes gleaming with eagerness.

Charles felt his groin tighten. It troubled
him that Miss Terrell was the reason Wendlesson had changed his
mind concerning his participation, but if the end was improved by
the means, perhaps he ought not entertain his misgivings.

“What had Joan to say?” Charles asked.

“She was hesitant at first. Seems Sir Arthur
is the sort given to jealousy. Ha! Why he comes here then and does
not take up with an opera dancer instead is odd, but he always
struck me as an eccentric. But I persuaded Madame that Miss Terrell
was not sharing her charms with any other man. Rather, she is
merely comforting a member of her own sex.”

Charles waited for the mention of money.

“And a few extra guineas sealed the deal,”
Wendlesson finished.

Thinking of the small room that served as
Miss Terrell’s board, Charles said, “And the compensation for Miss
Terrell?”

“Ah, yes, well, I have a few shillings upon
me.”

“You are too kind, my lord,” Miss Terrell
said with another curtsy.

Wendlesson clapped his hands. “Shall we
begin then?”

Charles took in a deep breath. Lord
Wendlesson was clearly pleased. Miss Katherine had made progress
and seemed to brighten upon seeing Miss Terrell. But for himself,
had he just allowed a fox into the henhouse?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

T
he evening was proceeding
better than planned. Terrell had expected to meet with resistance
from Master Gallant when she offered her services to him for
another night. Instead, he had sought
her
out, apparently at
the request of Lord Wendlesson, but that did not signify to
Terrell. She welcomed another chance to be with Master Gallant, no
matter how it was brought about.

I’m sorry
, he had said. His sincerity
pulled at her heartstrings with a ferocity that surprised her. She
found herself wanting to assist him with Miss Katherine for his
sake. She had never before met a man like Master Gallant, and she
wished to prove that she could be a worthwhile submissive for
him.

“What now, Master Gallant?” the viscount
asked.

His lordship was tall and broad in form. He
had not the refined physiognomy of Master Gallant, but Terrell did
not find him homely. The few times their paths had crossed here at
the Red Chrysanthemum, he had never done more than simply
acknowledge her. She had noticed he preferred more petite women,
with slender hips and an innocent countenance, but tonight she
sensed a difference in him.

“I had thought to set the tone with a little
reading,” Master Gallant replied, producing a familiar book.

She had learned enough of her letters to
recognize that the title was indeed the same as the one from
yesterday. She hoped he would not ask her to read.

“But first, Miss Katherine and Miss Terrell
will assume their proper positions as submissives,” Gallant
continued.

The women exchanged glances before kneeling
and placing their hands behind them. Wendlesson looked to Gallant
with approval.

“Miss Katherine,” Gallant addressed the
viscountess. “Please relay to his lordship what you learned
yesterday.”

“I learned that a s-submissive does not
speak lest she is commanded or permitted to,” Miss Katherine
replied.

“Very good. And?”

“And she is to obey her master.”

“Without question.”

“Without question.”

“And if she does not?”

“She will be…punished.”

“And will she be grateful for the
disciplining?”

“Yes.”

Gallant looked to Wendlesson. “Your wife is
a very apt pupil.”

“Indeed she is,” said Wendlesson, eying Miss
Katherine with approval.

Miss Katherine dared to smile.

“But why are they clothed?” he asked.
“Submissives ought not be permitted the luxury of clothing lest
they have earned the privilege.”

Both women stiffened. Not wanting to appear
insubordinate so early in the evening, Terrell said nothing. Eager
to inveigle herself into Master Gallant’s graces, she had failed to
consider this aspect of being a submissive. With most of her
patrons, she dictated the terms, even if she might not bear the
formal role of a Mistress. On the occasions when she had assumed
the role of submissive to a patron, she had set her limits before
engaging in any
business.
Her limits included no undressing
lest she consented to it.

“We are still in the education phase, Lord
Wendlesson,” Gallant said. “It is not necessary to impose upon them
all the customary rules at once.”

“What of Miss Terrell? She does not require
an education.”

Terrell felt her pulse quicken. She had not
removed her chemise for a man in years.

“Let us treat them as equivalents for the
time being,” Gallant suggested, “till we are certain of the gain
from doing differently. We have agreed upon safety words. For Miss
Katherine, the safety word is ‘Jean’, inspired by her favorite
composer. For Miss Terrell, the word shall be ‘obedience.’”

They all looked at him, save Terrell, who
kept her gaze lowered to bury her smirk. The Master did not like
her previous safety word.