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“Perhaps, but we are not yet arrived at tomorrow, and as I have said, my proposition expires if you leave.”
His nostrils flared. For a moment they only stared at one another, as if waiting for the other to relent. It was too late for her to retreat now, and with every passing moment, she was further convinced of what she desired. This man had been the subject of many of her wildest fantasies, and he stood within her reach. The anticipation made her salivate.
He placed his walking stick on a nearby table and sauntered toward her. Her every nerve came to life and her breath faltered.
“You wish for the return of Master Ashley,” he said, drawing up before her, “and you wish to submit yourself to me. Your body would be at my mercy to whip, to flog, to torture with wickedness.”
“As much as you please,” she said in a whisper, her gaze locked in his.
“While you may have a word of safety, I would not expect you to use it.”
Heat roiled in her belly. “Of course.”
“I make no promises regarding your pleasure. My expectations are high, and the privilege of spending can be earned only through great torment.” His gaze took in every inch of her body. “My flogger falls hard and often. I would spare no part of you.”
“I should be disappointed if you did, Mr. Ashley.”
He shook his head slowly. “You ought to know better than that, my lady. Address me properly.”
She inhaled sharply. Did this mean he had accepted her proposition? She hoped so and could barely contain her glee. But as her excitement grew, so did her trepidation. Would she indeed be able to handle Master Ashley?
*****
Cedman had closed the distance between them and saw her breath catch. His ardor responded. Of course she would make for a lovely submissive, and her insistence upon having him was indeed flattering as well as provocative. He could not refrain from admiring her assertiveness, even though he deplored her use of extortion. She needed to be taught a lesson. She needed to learn that he was not to be toyed with.
And yet he had to be careful. He knew little of her. Could she be trusted? If he had had time, he could have made inquiries among their shared friends and acquaintances, but she had allowed him no time. That she should attempt to force his hand, that his appeals on behalf of his mother seemed to have little effect upon her, suggested to him that she was a woman in want of more compassion. He had no assurances that even if he delivered Master Ashley to her satisfaction that she would stay her decision to turn his family out of Merrybourne.
He gazed deep into her eyes and saw a vulnerability that had not existed moments before, but if it was Master Ashley she desired, then she would have it. The clock on the mantle chimed the half hour. If he wanted to go to the theatre still, he could delay no longer.
Damnation. Miss Adams had remarked to him yesterday that she hoped he would be in attendance, but he supposed there would be other opportunities to make his intentions known to the heiress. Nevertheless, Lady Pennington was proving a great inconvenience.
"Well?" he prompted, then added with deliberation, "Mrs. Pennington."
"Yes, Master Ashley."
He straightened. She had a charming scent to her, one that was her own and did not owe itself to floral perfumes. If he were not so the vexed with her, he could take much pleasure in her submission.
"I must send my regrets for canceling my engagement this evening. You may prepare yourself. Does Madame Devereux still keep the room upon the third floor furnished with –"
She nodded. "Yes."
His cock perked at her eagerness. "Then you will await me there in a manner appropriate to your role."
"Yes, Master Ashley."
"You are dismissed."
She bobbed a curtsy. Gone was her earlier haughtiness. She had assumed a proper demureness. He watched her depart, admiring the curve of her back and wondering as to the shape of her derrière. When she had closed the doors behind her, he shook his head. He was out of practice here at the Red Chrysanthemum, and he still deemed it against his better judgment to revive Master Ashley.
However, the seeds of a hitherto dormant anticipation began to sprout and with surprising speed. He closed his eyes, and the vision of Lady Pennington bound to a St. Andrew’s cross flashed through his mind. His cock throbbed. Her ladyship seemed to be made of different mettle than Miss Julia, but the latter had been a member of the Red Chrysanthemum for two years before he had engaged her as his submissive. What if Lady Pennington’s bravado was merely talk?
It mattered not. To stay her hand and enable his mother and sister to stay at Merrybourne, he had no choice but to accept her ladyship as his. Even if he had had the funds to entice her cooperation, her objective was clearly not pecuniary. The brazen doxy. He half wondered if she had purchased Merrybourne for the sole purpose of blackmailing him. Regardless, for certain he would give her a sound spanking and an unforgettable flogging for her troubles.
He drew in a breath to calm his vexation. She had asked for but one night. Surely he could endure a single night. He would have to proceed with caution, especially as he had not wielded a flogger or implement of any sort upon a woman in years. But if the lash should fall harsher than intended, well, Lady Pennington had but herself to blame. It was she who had forced the return of Master Ashley.
*****
Georgeanna eyed herself in the looking glass above the vanity. The blush in her cheeks came not from the rouge. She would have applied a hue to her lips or some powder to her complexion, but recalled that Master Ashley preferred no cosmetics. She also knew he preferred the hair to be worn in a queue and instructed the dressing maid to pull her hair back and tie it at the scalp near the top of her head.
