THE (IN SILK) SERIES
Gayle Eden
Book One - Secrets in Silk
Book Two - Scandals in Silk
Book Three - Seductions in Silk
Book Four - Shadows in Silk
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Copyright 2011 Gayle Eden (reissue)
Published by Gayle Eden for Smashwords
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Copyright 2011 Gayle Eden (reissue)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The right of Gayle Eden to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters in this publication are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental
Chapter One
Jaiden Corvone weaved her gloved fingers together tightly, her whole body wracked by nervousness, while her eyes scanned the gentlemen arriving for the Cyprian Ball. This had been a bad idea—a terrible idea. Not only because Mistresses were chosen for their abundant assets and she had only minimal ones, but the Lords were attentive to the most stunning of the females and her short sable hair, tawny eyes and average face could not compare.
Her sisters Antoinette (Toni) and Layla had no idea what she was about to do. However, if she did not secure an income and funds to give them a dowry they would end up on the streets. Someone had to make the sacrifices. She was the eldest. It was her duty to do so.
Beneath the bodice of her ivory silk gown, her heart pounded too hard. The gown was not paid for. She had it designed, sewn via a seamstress friend of Madam Ruet, who ran a fashionable hell, with the promise she would have the cost paid at week’s end.
Considering her figure was rather lithe and boyish, she had seen no advantage in choosing one in the current nearly sheer and low cut style. Instead she had a sheath like design made, with the only ornamentation being the wide V bodice, with lace insert, in hopes that showing a hint of skin would distract from the fact her breasts were nowhere near the large, plump, spilling-out ones, she’d seen on most mistresses.
She was using the name Madame Corvone, for indeed she was a widow of Monsieur. Using that helped to keep her first and last name from someday being attached to her sisters. She hoped rather fervently that all the information and advice she had gathered was right—and that any man who chose her would be the more effeminate and foppish sort, the kind who would be drawn to her non overt femininity.
At five foot tall, she had been assured that when the titled picked their mistresses, they liked to outdo each other—they wanted them stately, lush, and well endowed.
Jaiden sighed, hating herself for the nerves, since she had gotten this far and was actually here. She loathed any rebellion in her mind of a future hiding her education and intellect for the sake of... intimacies. God knew, that crash course on that aspect of being a Mistress was enough to make her nearly cut and run a dozen times.
The music was wonderful she told herself, the ballroom tastefully arranged and the sight far from some gaudy and coarse gathering she had expected.
These women were the future courtesans, the Mistresses of rich Captains, nobles and merchants. For the most part, they had better manners than some she recalled at her debut amid high society. If not for the subtle innuendo she picked up, the slight sexual by-play of those dancing, she would never know the difference.
Yet she knew. She had to unglue from this safe spot and move forward. She should be where Ms. Vandenberg told her to stand, near the elegant blue draped window, which would frame her perfectly.
Oh—God She murmured and began to take those small steps in the direction assigned, feeling the bounce in her hair where its short nape length had been curled, a white band placed around it. She found the silk sheath fit like skin, and could feel her thighs outlined with every step, the soft brush of fabric on her bum—which was bare because of the snug fit. She had her lashes blackened and wore a subtle lip salve in hopes of enhancing the pale pink of her mouth. She needed some edge among the beauties here.
The laughter and blend of male and female voices rose. The ballroom sounds mingled with the adjoining room where there were sitting areas and card tables set up. She attained the spot and turned, reaching to pull the train of her dress to the side. She lifted her chin to peer over the men again—lingering on the rouged and laced, more slim fellows, some looking as young as her eighteen-year-old sister, Toni.
It would be so much easier, would it not, to have to please a green lad, rather than an experienced one. She had the choice to some extent. Ms. Vandenberg explained that if more than one made an offer, or showed the attention, she could choose whichever she wanted.
Her heart did a little dip as it appeared most of those fellows were equally enthralled by the competition. She could not blame them since two women who stood closest to the line had curves like an hourglass, long and lush hair. Their faces leaned to the exotic.
Jaiden contented herself with watching dancers and couples who stood at the edge talking, their heads close, and intimate smiles abundant. However, as the hour passed and more and more women left the main ballroom, taking their potential patrons to the sitting room or a more intimate place to talk, she began to feel a very real panic. Seeing as how her rent was due at the rooming house in two days, the dress was not paid for. Both Layla and Toni would be in London in two weeks, with every expectation of enjoying a life and society she had been claiming to live in for two years.
The music stopped. There was some shifting from the orchestra, which brought the voices of those around her more in clarity. It was whilst she was making that scan again that her gaze landed on a man just near the open arch leading to the sitting room. He had his arms crossed and leaned his shoulders against the wood. He was looking right at her.
No. No, she chanted, noting his impressive height, the swarthy skin which marked him as a recent soldier. He had a head full of wavy black hair, which framed a nearly hard face, all sinew and aristocratic bones.
His eyes were coal. There was a ruthless set to his face, the sinew, fitting a blade of a nose and sensual lips. He was wearing Hessians and leather trousers, snug enough to show the power in his legs. He had removed his jacket. The billow sleeved white shirt seemed to enhance not only his darkness, but also the breadth of very broad shoulders.
No, Jaiden repeated. He was likely amused, possibly comparing her lack of height and assets to the rest of the women and not actually eyeing her for…that…reason. He would better suit the tall and lush ladies, and be a perfect match for the more endowed. Oh, God, no, he was pulling away and coming toward her.
Gulping a swallow of air that did not help her one bit, Jaiden noted his walk, just a mixture of command and confidence. She discerned without knowing that he was an aristocrat. The man stopped just a few feet from her, beside Ms. Vandenberg. Jaiden considered running off somewhere.
She did not smile as they were looking at and obviously discussing her. Ms. Vandenberg with her silver hair and gown, her lovely face, was smiling, her head nodding, apparently doing her best on Jaiden’s behalf. Jaiden did not know how to signal that she would really rather she did not.
As the conversation terminated, the man came forward, his eyes raking her leisurely. Too warm, black eyes. He stopped finally. She tried to recall what some of the ladies had told her to put off an undesired man but her mind would not cooperate.
He bowed and said clear and deep, “Madame Corvone?”
“Yes.” She sounded bloody breathless. He smelled warm and virile. She had to look up at him. Staring into that sensual face was not easy.
“I am Raven.”
Jaiden returned, “How do you do?”
The merest hint of a smile touched his mouth. “Very well thus far, and you?”
She blurt, “A bit nervous, but holding up.”
His brow rose. She mentally kicked herself. She was supposed to be a sophisticated widow, making a discreet and advantageous arrangement. Jaiden amended rather quickly, “Fine... I am fine.”
His sooty eyes moved over her face. He reached for her hand.
She gave it trying to ignore it trembled.
He indicated the sitting room. “Shall we?”
She wanted to say no and even looked desperately around for anyone else, an elder gent with gout mayhap, some lad just growing whiskers? However, not a soul was paying her the least attention. In the end, she stepped up, her arm through his, and walked with him to the sitting area.
His arm was solid, the heat through the silk notable. His scent, dear Lord, he smelled of wind, night, and secrets.
Having led her to an empty spot on an Egyptian sofa that angled toward the fireplace, he remained standing and offered, “Champagne or brandy?”
“Champagne.” She watched him head toward the side bar and pour a crystal glass full. He poured a brandy for himself. Upon returning, handing the glass to her, he took his seat with his back resting on the end of the sofa. His large body needed most of the space so that knee was very near her hip.
She sipped as he did. His eyes were scrutinizing every move, progressing over her. It was a miracle the swallow went down as smooth as it did.
He leaned up, his knee sliding upon the cushion. One boot sole on the floor, the drink in one hand, his other lightly touched her elbow length glove. “Ms. Vandenberg tells me you are interested in an arrangement that is extremely discreet?”
She turned her head and met his gaze. “Yes. I would prefer not to be public.”
There, she thought, he would find someone else, because that implied no flaunting her in the park, no attending the theater, no days at the track where other men brought their mistresses.
“That is agreeable with me.”
Jaiden groaned mentally.
His lashes dipped. His eyes watched his fingers trace her skin above the glove. Jaiden's skin was tingling from his touch. His hands were not covered, nor pampered. She became aware from that subtle stroke Raven would be the sort of male she wanted to avoid in such an arrangement.
“I shall lease a house by the year, arrange credit for you, a generous allowance, carriage and coach, servants, and—” His lashes lifted and his shadowy gaze stared deep. “There will, of course, be certain inducements to assure we are both satisfied with the arrangement.”
She wet her lips. His gaze followed it. Jaiden had no idea if inducement meant gifts, jewels, which she would pawn for her sisters to use, or something more intimate since his eyes were so intense.
Oh, God, she repeated what was becoming a prayer. She must do something to—”
“Most mistresses are known for certain skills, wit and charm. Some cater to more crude taste, and amusing habits. You seem rather quiet...”
Ms. Vandenberg had told Jaiden of this, she had stressed that men wanted mistresses for conversation and laughter, entertainment, and confidence, some less than others, but that it was much more than bedroom antics. In addition, since she had not expected to draw the attention of a mature and obviously sensual man, Jaiden had given it little thought.
“Are you married?” She asked, hoping he was, hoping--he had a wife to distract him.
“No. I have only just resigned my commission and returned to London.”
She blew out a breath. “The truth is, I am new to this, Sir—”
“Raven,” he cut in.
“Yes. Well, Raven. I am entering this arrangement for the first time. I would rather be led by... whatever a gentleman prefers, than claim some skill that may prove unsatisfactory.”
“You are a widow?” He frowned slightly.
“Yes. I am.”
“You must have wed young.”
“Seventeen,” she supplied. Then rushed, “Please do not feel that you must settle on me, s—ah Raven. I am sure there are more sophisticated and—”
“Perhaps you appeal to me more.” Raven rubbed the pad of his finger on her arm. “In fact, I decided when I arrived, that you did.”
Well. That certainly took her chances of dissuading him to a new low.
He seemed to be trying to read her thoughts as he murmured, “The details are normally arranged through Ms. Vandenberg, is that how you wish to proceed?”
She blinked.
Raven added, “I send notice here when the house is ready. We make the initial arrangements through her.”
As her so-called sponsor, Jaiden understood that Ms. Vandenberg would get a small fee for doing so. She nodded.
His smile teased again. “You look a bit frightened, or intimidated.”
She was more anxious than anything. “I had not expected to attract the notice of someone so...” She paused, nearly flushing because she did not know how to put it. “I expected to appeal to a different sort of man.”
“Ah. Should I be flattered or insulted?” His whiter than white teeth flashed.
“Flattered,” she rasped feeling her stomach flutter at that smile. He must know that he was strong, dark, and virile, in fact, he would have to be blind and stupid not to know how he stood out amid the ruddy faced and perfumed men present.
“You seem almost virginal in your timidity, Madam.”
“I’m not a virgin.” She would not blush even if she died on the spot. Moreover, she had better get used to such intimate talk.
“I’ve no aversion to timidity.” There was a teasing twinkle in his eyes.
Good. Lord. What a complex contrast. Across the room, Raven had looked hard and inflexible. He smelled wonderful. His voice was deep and smooth. He bloody smiled and she would wager it buckled the knees of most women. Now he was teasing her.
“I’m not shy. Not in general. I’m just feeling my way through something new to me.” She was proud of herself for sounding so calm.” I will admit I’m not used to intimacy with strangers.”
He stared at her a long time. “You’ve never been a Mistress?”
“No.”
He pulled his hand back just a bit, still regarding her. “Had other lovers aside from your husband?”
“No.”
He shook his head, his stare holding hers. “I shall pay well indeed for the privilege of becoming your first.” His tone was huskier.
She did flush, but only the slightest.
“You have entered this... lifestyle of your own choice?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Forgive me.” He was almost smiling again. “But do you understand what the exchange—”
“—Yes. I do.”
“And you have an open mind?”
That gave her pause. “I gave it a great deal of time and consideration.”
Raven did not look wholly convinced, but whatever doubts or questions he had, did not change his mind. “Would tomorrow be too soon to seal the arrangements?”
“Not at all.” She sighed despite her trepidation. It would assure she could pay rent owed, and pay for the gown. She would be in the house by the end of the week.
He regarded her oddly, but suggested, “Perhaps you should make acquaintances of other ladies in a similar position.”
She already had. She was acquainted with more Ladybirds than she would ever know actual Ladies.
“I shall, if you think it necessary. However, I was given to understand that gentlemen have no problem expressing their preferences.”
“True.” He reached up and touched a curl by her ear. His gaze held hers. “I can see this is going to be quite unique for us both, Madame. By the way, do you have a Christian name?”
She responded to that smile, but gave him a shortened version, “Jade.”
He nodded and dropped his hand, stood and then glanced down, a wavy strand of inky hair sliding over his brow. “Until tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” she echoed, dismayed by the situation she found herself—no—by the man who was apparently attracted enough to make her his Mistress. Jaiden sighed and watched him leave to find Ms. Vandenberg.
Chapter Two
Jaiden had been summoned to Ms. Vandenberg’s the next day. Had she any doubt of Raven’s wealth or his ability to follow through, it was erased the moment Ms. Vandenberg gave her the bank drafts, the letters of credit, and showed her out to a waiting coach.
She rode with her carpetbag containing her scant possessions to a quaint house with a small garden and courtyard. It was three stories and had lovely window boxes, and looked nothing like the dark flat she had been living in.
There was a carriage house behind it. The driver, who introduced himself as Berber, told her that two footmen would be coming later in the day, and that the house had been cleaned and prepared.
Somewhat in a daze, she let herself inside and dropped the bag with a thunk, and afterwards looked past the staircase to see open and airy rooms. The windows were large and furnishings scant, but it had charming angles and high ceilings that would make for a cozy place.
Jaiden walked through the sitting area, opened French doors led to a dining room, beyond that, the kitchens.
She would have to hire a cook.
Even as Jaiden worried about how to maintain two houses, for she would have to rent one for her sisters, in a fashionable part of town, and hire servants, companions... it was going to be tricky.
She viewed a small study on the other side of the house, a garden room with cane furnishings and a back hall with a wall of windows looking out onto a well-cared for flower garden, small courtyard with marble benches and table.
Up the stairs, she found a bathing chamber, four rooms, only two furnished as bedrooms. On the top floor, servants quarters, another bathing area and storage room. An interesting one at the back that would make the servants a nice sitting room if any of them lived in. She did not intend to hire many, just enough to keep the house comfortable.
She went to the second floor and chose the master bedroom. It was obviously the largest with a sitting area and door leading to the bath. It was light and had subtle gold silk walls, the bed, stripped but clean, in a cherry wood. It was a large bed. There was a fireplace in that room and a sitting area. She would have to furnish it and buy linens.
Back down the stairs, Jaiden stopped at the bottom one, seeing the man blocking out light in the doorway.
“Is this all you own?” He stared at the carpetbag.
“Yes.” She smoothed her blue skirt and white blouse, a remnant from one of her many jobs that did not work out; that of schoolmistress. She had been overqualified and not inclined to be brow beaten by the head Mistress. “I have been away from London and had not refurbished my wardrobe.
I left most of my possessions in the small house I lived in.” That was not a complete lie, since she had sold the clothing with everything else to pay her husband’s fines.
He was dressed for riding, wearing buff and white and entered a few steps, letting the footmen inside. The strapping young men were perhaps twenty-five and they looked like twins.
“John and James.”
Jaiden responded with a slight tilt of the head.
They said, “We’ll just get the wood and things stored and then see what needs done.” As they left, Jaiden met Raven’s glance before he spoke again.
“They’ll see to any heavy work. You are free to hire a housekeeper and cook.”
“A maid will do, and a cook.”
“Should you like for me to escort you to the shops?”
“Not unless you enjoy that sort of thing.”
He laughed softly. “No.”
“Do you have a preference... colors and the like?”
“In what?”
Jaiden meant the house, but she considered that it did not matter to him. Her wardrobe was probably of more interest.
He stepped in and came close to where she stood, regarding her and supplying, “There are certain shops I may prefer you frequent.”
Another thing she had been apprised of, those discreet little shops. “Yes. I know of them.”
His gaze went over her. “Your coloring lends itself to most warm hues. I am not partial to more flamboyant styles or wigs. I do not care for strong perfumes. I am not adverse, however, to your choosing what strikes your fancy or designing your own style. Many ladies do.”
The intimate tone of his voice enthralled her.
“Were the drafts enough?” He asked
“They were more than generous.”
He shook his head. “No. Now that I see the place. You shall have a separate account for the house. It needs much, and linens, things of that sort. I’ll have it ready by morning.”
“Very well.”
He pulled away and walked to the sitting room, looking around and leaning to peer in the other rooms. She came down and paused in the doorway, thinking how striking he was in that almost bare. The riding jacket enhanced both height and breadth. The trousers molded his legs. His hair was a bit windblown. She wished he did not look so good.
He toured the other rooms, pausing in the doorway of the small study. “Good lighting for you to do your accounts. Can you read?”
“Yes.” She choked, trying not to smile. If he only knew.
He glanced at her, brow up. “Many ladies cannot. There are plenty of shelves here, if you have a passion for buying books.”
“Do you?”
He winced. “Too many.” Raven turned. They were close, as the both of them meant to go into the hallway, so both paused, her shoulder near his chest.
She was looking up and Raven down. It was the first time that Jaiden allowed any of her honest attraction to surface. She did not want to be attracted in such an arrangement. Jaiden wanted to make it a business transaction, one she could end as soon as she had her sister’s future secured. It was why she did not want a virile and handsome man to start with. She did not want her emotions involved.
His hand came up, just under her chin. His thumb stroked her cheek. “What strange eyes you have, Elf. They are both gold and green...”
“Elf?” She tried to jest.
“Um. You are as tiny as one.”
“I’m too old to be an Elf.”
“Nonsense.” he teased. “Elves are ageless.” His eyes moved over her hair, which only held a wave from the night before and most times was straight. When he met her gaze again He said, “I have the oddest feeling when I look at you.”
She felt her stomach quiver.
“You do not look or act or seem like a Mistress. And I’m going to have to remind myself that you are.”
“Yes. I am.” She had not played her role well thus far. She was acting more the Lady than lover. Her natural reserve was already giving him the wrong signals. She needed to keep the lines drawn. This was a temporary thing in her life. Once her sisters were well set, she would leave London and put it all behind her.
“I am sure once we are more relaxed and spend time together, things will seem more natural.”
He smiled. “I am looking forward to it.”
She read the double meaning in that. To cover her reaction, she supplied. “In a few days everything will be in order. If you let me know ahead of time, I can have a supper planned.”
“I’ll do that.” He dropped his hand. They walked to the foyer. “My days are fairly hectic but once I catch up on what needs it because of my absence, I believe we can arrange a schedule convenient for us both.”
Jaiden nodded, thinking, wondering things she should not. She would not allow herself to be curious. She must keep him in a very narrow category...
“When are your menses, how long?”
She blushed; glad he was not looking at her, but was glancing out where he had opened the door. “Last week of the month, six days normally, though it varies in seasons.”
“Your free time is your own.”
His gaze encountered hers. “One of the advantages you offered me was your care for discretion. You seem to understand that concept. Mistresses can be bitches in their own society, the more known, or powerful their patron, the worse.”
“I’ve heard that. I do not intend to snub them. However, I am not of the inclination to be a part of some large societies of.... I prefer discretion, on both our parts.”
He was probing her gaze again. “I’ll have that draft to you in the morning. And perhaps see you the end of the week?”
“Yes.” She smiled the first real one. Then almost lost it because he stared for a long time.
When he had gone, she sat on the bottom step. Her hands rubbed her face. Jaiden held her fingers in her hair a moment. All that research, all the time she was listening, learning, going over the details everything flew out of her mind when he was near.
It was not a good thing. She was aware of the coy laughs, the sexual secret smiles; those women wore when telling her of their lovers. She rather had focused on those who suffered them for the material gain. Those who were not attracted, but kept things strictly business.
It was going to take single-mindedness, careful planning and the utmost discretion to conduct her life for however long it took for Layla and Toni to either find husbands they cared for, who could, hopefully, support them well. Or, if they chose to do something else, she wanted to have a settlement for them.
Jaiden slid her hands down and chewed her nails a moment, thinking that it was good that he did not like flamboyance, because she was not going to be indulgent. She had to rent a house, hire companions, arrange their wardrobes, and still come up with some excuse to live apart.
Illness was what she had decided upon, some treatments that would require her to absent herself as soon as they were settled. A good companion was costly, but invaluable in society. Layla was nearly twenty, had something of a debut in the country through an elder cousin she had lived with after Jaiden had wed. Nevertheless, when she had seen them after her husband died, she had realized they had grown up in her absence and were young vivacious women who should be amid more lively society.
They were eager for something outside the small village offerings. She felt they had good enough manners and sense to go with that zest, so that would appeal to men of substance. Layla was a bit bookish, Toni something of a rebel, but overall, they could hold their own in the ton.
It was not as if everyone had to have some lofty background. Their father had been a Baron, their mother a Viscount’s daughter, so it served them well. Since an obscure male cousin had inherited their father’s small estate and since he’d never been well off to start with. The girls were with that elder cousin now, optimistic that Jaiden would give them security again.
Proud gels really. They had all learned very young to pretend to have more than they actually did, something their mother had taught them that saved their father’s pride in turn.
Not for the first time did Jaiden wish she had simply left her husband, and gone home to her family. Not that she thought her father would understand. Nevertheless, she had made her bed and realized her mother at least would be scandalized by it. Such a thing would reflect badly on her sister’s chances.
It was not their fault she had made a mistake. Therefore, she stayed and managed to keep a roof over her head and some pretense of being well off—she even fooled her sisters with twice a year letters, filled with all sorts of cheerful lies, he had sent them small gifts, a bit of money when she could, and, news, always news, of what a wonderful husband she had.
Oh, bother. She sighed and stood, grabbing her bag and taking it upstairs. She had lists to make, shopping to do, having learned years ago to take one day as it came, and to adapt and live one life in public, another in private. This sort of thing could not be much different.
Jaiden’s talent for stretching a budget came in handy in the next few days. Raven had given her more income than she had seen in her lifetime, but she was always conscious of how far it had to spread.
She hired a woman named Drest, whom Ms. Vandborugh had recommended. Jaiden left stocking the kitchens and such in her hands’ since the woman was forty and seemed a sensible sort. She would not live in, but she did live nearby. That fit her plans, as well as discovering the woman had a young niece, who would do the cleaning every morning.
Linens were purchased. Second hand vases that were beautiful, she filled with flowers because the garden was so fertile. The decor was intimate, relaxing. She avoided pastels, going for jewel tones, warm hues. After swearing John and James to secrecy, she discovered a shop where estate furnishings were plentiful and purchased a few pieces of art, sculptures, must have books and umbrella stands, paper holders, everything, for the study.
Though it was a lot of walking, haggling, Jaiden soon had paintings on the walls, nice drapes, and throws, rugs on the floors. The master chamber took the most time, until she settled on cream and forest green with splashes of wine red. Here too, vases and lamps incense and sachets that were subtle and took away that not lived in scent.
Nothing too feminine but simply intimate.
That word kept flittering through her mind as she transformed bare rooms into pleasing spaces. Cozy and intimate, and warm. She took care in the bathing rooms with dressing table, soaps, and bottles of exotic oils, decorative jars with creams and lotions.
The back room, which opened to the gardens, and with the most windows, she kept the cane and cabbage rose theme. She stocked a bar with every sort of spirits, glasses and decanters. She was amazed at how fast Ms. Drest and her niece had everything in its place. The beds made the vases full, candles, and lamps casting light in just the right places.
She ordered stationary, an account book, and writing set for the second hand desk, that looked new.
Though Jaiden loved books, novels and classics, she realized her wardrobe was yet to be ordered. Jaiden had to stop in the business district to see a Mr. Peter Bloom, who in turn found her a house to let, fully furnished for Layla and Toni.
Jaiden had to work a bit harder to find the Mrs. Ellington and Mrs. Penshaw. Both were widows, minor gentry, but the perfect sort of companions for her sisters. She arranged via a missive, a meeting the following week for interviews, and would worry about pulling that off when the time came
The closer it came to the end of the week, the less she slept. The bed was comfortable, the room was wonderful. She lay there too often trying to fight images of intimacy with a dark haired, Virile, and swarthy skinned male.
Ms. Vandenberg had already pointed out the shops he had alluded to her. After buying the more practical items, carriage coat, dresses, gloves, hats, the gowns she would alter herself since she needed them now. The flounces needed removed. Shawls, hair combs, everything in simple but elegant styles, and those warm hues he mentioned, riding habit, boots, pumps, and slippers.
Jaiden entered one of the establishments on a thankfully rainy day, thankful, because she wore a cloaked hood. She eyed the variety from French silks and sheer laces to more obviously scant scraps that barely covered anything. It certainly brought home to her that two months of relations which could in no means be called lovemaking, certainly left her feeling ignorant.
“May I assist you?”
Jaiden turned to see a female standing, hands clasped in front of her, wearing a white silk blouse, pink and white stripped skirt. The woman was mature and appeared completely comfortable.
“I don’t know where to start.” Jaiden laughed.
The woman’s smile came and lit her blue eyes. “I believe with stockings. Perhaps, if you will tell me a bit about your...friends...or his character, we can work out the rest.”
Jaiden found herself buying stockings, every sort of silk and sheer ones, net. However, she limited to relaying Raven’s physical assets, murmuring rather strained that he was handsome, swarthy, well built, and sensual. She was impressed and pleased that the woman helping her select, seemed to know what she was doing. Jaiden was amazed to find trousers among the choices, costumes for which she could guess the purpose.
She bought trousers, cloak, and a scandalously sheer blouse. Thinking ahead, she added a black wig, a silk bag of cosmetics, and a wide brim veiled hat. Something she may need in her duel life.
The only time Jaiden hesitated was when the woman led her behind the curtains. They had added camisoles, corsets of every style and garters, but though sex was obviously the influence in choices, she had never in her life seen what was displayed before her.
“No? Well, perhaps he will come here himself. Men have access to a greater variety and sometimes will supply those.” She waved toward items she called “relaxers” laying in silk cases or velvet boxes. She did pick up one and place the lid on it, saying, “You may tuck it away in your drawer, and never bring it out, but just in case.”
A bit mortified Jaiden chose not to think of it, and made sure it was well hid in the box under a pile of silk night rails and short robes. She did the same with aromatic massage oils.
“Madame DeRyzer,” the woman told her as she packaged it all. “You’ll not know where to find her shop unless we mention it. On the top floor.” She named the number and street. “She does the best piercing. Her place is clean. Most of the women trust her discretion. New girls tend to need her connections to...certain people if they find themselves in need of contraceptives.”
Jaiden had already taken care of that via Ms. Vandenberg. She was glad for the hood as she carried the boxes and packages to the coach, though neither the driver nor the footmen seemed to make much of it.
When she reached the house, Jaiden spent the evening unpacking, hanging things in the wardrobe, and filling drawers. She did peek in the box one more time, before hurriedly shoving it among her stockings and slamming the drawer closed.
Piercing?
Jaiden looked at her reflection in the mirror. This was not how she imagined it. This was not like the abstract plan she had made at all.
Jaiden turned away and stripped down to her petticoat before choosing a gown to alter for the inevitable dinner.
It was green satin. After turning up the lamps, she sat in the middle of the bed with the sewing box. Having bought a few fashion drawings, she applied scissors and needle and removing flounces, changing the neckline, and working until she was satisfied the gown was elegant, simple and yet suitable for a Mistress.
She laid it over the bench with white stockings and the dyed green pumps. Yawning by the time she packed everything away, she had little trouble falling asleep considering the activity she had crammed into a few days.
Chapter Three
The dining table was set with china. Silver tapers lit and gleamed over the covered servers, flowers in the center, and sparkling glasses by each setting.
Jaiden dressed in the stockings and pumps before sliding the gown on. It had hooks from under the arm to the hip, which were discreetly covered by a ribbon.
Standing there, with her hair still drying, Jaiden did not know if she should be pleased the jade color brought out the warm cream of her skin, or that the wide neckline and shoulder-edging sleeves flattered her slim neck and smooth shoulders.
She was worried that her nipples nudged the material and wondered how amused he’d be if she wore a shawl? She had seen more in society, nipples rouged and skirts so damp females looked nude.
However, this was no ball. As much as she understood, it was supposed to lead to the point of the association—the sex. Jaiden had never been encouraged to be vain or even think of her body in a sexual manner.
For now, she combed her hair and tucked it behind her ears, having not curled it. Thinking that, perhaps the short style was indeed more suitable to her face. She did not look the Elf as he claimed, for her bones were not in beautiful delicate lines like Toni, nor the heart shape of Layla’s. She had slightly arched sable brows, a straight nose, and some angle to her jaw, and a mouth neither full nor thin.
Jaiden applied the cosmetics to her lashes thinking that they were more green than gold because of the gown, likely her best asset. She picked up a simple gold bracelet to slide on her wrist.
Standing back, Jaiden endeavored not to think of her experiences all those years ago. She had been a mere seventeen. She was now twenty and four, almost five. Whatever spell Gautier had her under until the vows were said, had quickly dissipated under his rough and impatient hands.
He had not loved or even desired her—he had merely needed her dowry to pay his debts and afford his opium-induced dreams. Her dowry was not large, but a man of desperation settled for anything, used anyone. Her father had saved many years to provide that money.
Gautier had told her he was consummating the marriage so that Jaiden could not get an annulment, and he had said he picked her because she was clever enough to keep them flush, and not be nagging him for attention or fripperies.
Jaiden smiled rather sadly at that silly girl, at wasted tears, which did not last long—that sort of thing was useless. She came to be thankful he disappeared for days, weeks, and months but did not allow herself to linger long on some handsome face of a compelling pair of eyes of other men, because it had taken her many years to grow up and trust herself again. In some sense, she had to forgive her own folly.
As Jaiden went downstairs, she took on the mindset she had when she had only herself to rely on. It was only when the knocker sounded and it was time to see him again, that she felt those betraying nerves trying to catch her off guard.
Opening the door, Jaiden stepped back seeing the rain had started. A light fog as he came in.
“Good evening.” He removed his cloak and set it on a hook.
Trying not to stare at the water sparking on his hair, she said, “Good evening,” but was thinking, good God—eying what he wore. His shirt was a fine silk, white, collarless, his trousers a skintight black that molded his muscular thighs and calves. When Raven turned, his backside—a muscled one, was outlined too.
To gather herself, Jaiden turned away and invited, “Come in, dinner is prepared. Will you have wine?”
“Yes. I’ll pour.” He followed her into the room.
The drapes were back. The cascade of rain sounded. The candles gave off plenty of light as she uncovered trays exposing herbed hens and vegetables, breads, an array of cheeses, fruits, and small cakes.”
“Your cook is satisfactory?”
“Yes. She is very nice. Talented, in the kitchens.”
He set her glass and held her chair, before seating himself.
They passed the trays. When the plates were filled, she unfurled the napkin and glanced up to find him looking at her.
Water dried on that blue/black hair. The candlelight enhanced the hollows of his cheeks, shimmering somewhat in his eyes. She would put his age at thirty. There was an air of worldliness there, which made it hard to discern. Again, Jaiden found that face sensual, compelling, and very difficult to look at without feeling warmth under her skin.
Raven took a sip of wine and afterward held her gaze as he put it down, rolling his lips as he swallowed. She was sure it was an innocent thing. Yet under the circumstances, nothing was innocent.
A clock in the sitting room ticked. Rain pattered against the windows. Tension such as she had never felt, but one she recognized as sexual, seemed to thicken in the room.
“The gown is very flattering.”
“Thank you.”
“You got a lot done to the house in a short time.”
“Yes. I was fortunate to find everything I needed fairly quick.”
Raven’s gaze moved over, down her, before he murmured, “Eat. The meal smells excellent.”
Jaiden ate, seeing from the corner of her eye that he did likewise.
Though the tension was starting to spread, and crawl over her skin, he thankfully opened a conversation.
“Are there any questions off limits?”
Jaiden glanced at him.
“Did you have children?”
She wiped her mouth, looking down at the plate, carefully cutting the herbed chicken.
“No. It was for the best considering I was widowed.”
“Yes. Likely.”
“You served in the war?”
“Under Wellington.”
He smiled when she looked at him. “A shrewd man, I think.”
Raven’s response was solid. “I was proud to know him.”
After eating a bit, Jaiden sat back to sip some wine, and murmured, “May I ask why you aren’t wed?”
“I was betrothed,” he supplied coolly. “But let us say... that my choice to join the war and my absence altered that, among other things.”
Jaiden watched him set back too after most of his plate was cleared. He finished the wine and stood, pouring more and he offered to refill her own.
She would have loved to be foxed considering, but she shook her head.
He seated himself again. “Are you finished?”
“Yes.”
His gaze roamed her face. “Shall we retire to the parlor?”
Jaiden acknowledged his offer and stood, walking with him to that room. Standing, she watched him tend the fire. He went to the dining room, covered the trays, and put the tapers out. She had chosen comfortable seating here, larger for his frame. He took a chair near the fire. She seated herself to his left on the sofa slightly facing.
Swirling the wine in the glass he captured her eyes again. “The house smells fresh, of flowers.”
“The gardens are wonderful to be so small.”
“It’s not common for a man to wonder or probe too deeply in the midst of an affair. But given what you relayed, I must.”
She stiffened but made herself remain composed.
“Have you the means to prevent pregnancy?”
Jaiden almost sighed in relief. She actually smiled that it was that and not something he had discovered.
“Yes. I am aware of the methods. Nothing is perfect but the ladies appeared fairly confident in what they used.”
Raven laughed faintly and shook his head as he had before, still eyeing her. “I’ve had my share of experience, Jade. I have kept a few mistresses on and off. I am aware that I deliberately settled on you. Yet I am feeling a bit... well, the situation seems a bit reversed for the first time in my experience.”
Inwardly she winced, having forgotten everything she had been told again. But no matter how her attraction to him disturbed her , Jaiden reminded herself that she needed him for all those reasons she’d gone this far. She placed the wine glass on a low table and leaned back, to look at him. Not shying away from his lingering gaze. It made her body warm, her blood rush. She could learn to do the same. It was not a great hardship to let her eyes linger on his mouth or visually trace the contours. By the time Jaiden held his eyes again, she knew what to say.
The husk in her tone was completely natural. “I’m not a seductress. Yet.” She grinned.
“Aren’t you?” he said under his breath, before lifting his hand, reaching until she joined hers with it. His tanned fingers brushed against her palm and wrist. “Come here, Jade.”
She arose, aware that he could feel her pulse jump, but was facing him, soon standing between his legs as Raven parted them.
He had set his glass down then took both her hands, holding them as he gazed up at her.
“You’re too quiet.”
“What would you have me say,” Jaiden murmured. “My blood is rushing so fast I feel dizzy.”
His fingers flexed on hers. Raven leaned up, loosing her hands and placing his on her hips. He rubbed there, down, up again. He brought the material with him, the last time, until it was bunched. Her legs were exposed, the white silk stockings to just above the knee.
Jaiden’s hands moved to his shoulders, one running through the cool silk of his hair first. There gazes clashed once more.
“I like your scent.”
She liked his too. Jaiden fought to separate the reactions she was having, with the reasons. His hands lifted more of the hem until they were under the gown, both holding lightly around her upper thighs. As one inched up, smooth, warm and sensual he said, “Lean down here and kiss me.”
Jaiden leaned down, holding his nape as her mouth aimed for his. Whatever she expected from past kisses, it was nothing, absolutely nothing compared to what happened.
His lips were satin, smooth, and searing, though her inner mouth was nearly as virginal as the rest of her he sought it quickly. The kiss was deep, unhurried. Jaiden moved her head in counterpoint kissing him back, tasting a mysterious fire that nearly wiped every thought out of her head, she lost track of time and purpose.
She was not aware of her fingers sliding in his hair and tightening, nor of her body straining toward him. A storm of passion went through her like wildfire. All the things she’d never felt or known, suddenly engulfed her.
Hunger. Sheer pleasure at his taste, his tongue, and warm mouth inflamed her. Jaiden moaned. Raven moaned. His hand slid higher, his fingers easing through the curls shielding her sex. Her limbs were shaking. He broke the kiss. He bit softly at her nape and shoulder. His finger entered her. She was wet, incredibly warm, and wet.
He was a man who knew how to move a woman’s body, not unlike taking the lead in a waltz slid his finger free of her moist heat splay on her side, he nudged her back a bit. He dragged his lips and tongue across her collarbone.
Jaiden heard her rigid breathing, and his. Those hands slid down, nudging her legs apart. He closed his more. He was pulling her astride his lap. She moaned again, touching him, feeling hard and sculpted muscle everywhere her hands stoked, over his shoulders and upper arms, under her, his hard thighs and buttocks. She scarcely realized he had undone the hooks, until he nudged her back to draw the gown over her head.
For a moment, her tawny eyes met his darker stare, lustrous in a face that was completely sensual and sexual. Her palms were on his broad shoulders. He lowered his gaze, eying her breasts, his hands resting on her hips as she peeked downward too. The skin of her breasts was firm, the flush pink nipples rigid and peaked. Her chest was rose and fell with breaths she could not catch.
His visual survey moved down further. Jaiden swallowed. He was seeing the slope of her ribs and taut waist, slim hips and firm thighs above the white stockings, because she had had to walk, and to work most of her life and live rather lean, she was normally self-conscious.
Her legs parted. Jaiden was sitting just below his own sex.
Raven’s gaze moved upwards. His hands caressed up her back, one reaching her nape, and pulling her for a kiss. Before long, his mouth was traveling down to her breast.
“Uhhhn.” The sound escaped her lips. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. He was nudging her to arch while his slightly full lips held her nipple between them. His tongue came out to swirl slow around the areola, one then the other, before he brought his hands around, cupping them, suckling and nipping, laving.
Jaiden struggled between a very natural surprise at such intense pleasure, at a body awakening to passion and lust, whilst trying to remember she was supposed to be the one giving.
Her hands tugged at the shoulder of his shirt, she was caught somewhere in the half-drugged, half-excited heat of her body and mind. She found the buttons of his shirt, and began to rip them open, half from a very real sexual hunger and haze, and half playing the aggressor.
She heard Raven’s masculine his growl of pleasure. His mouth left her breast tease of air made the nipples peak further. He leaned back, looking down and watching, as she did, her hands gathering the tail of his shirt from his waistband, ripping it the rest of the way, until he had to lean up and allow her to remove it completely.
It was incredibly exciting, shocking Jaiden distantly, just how aroused she was by ripping that shirt off.
“My... God.” Her eyes went from the swarthy vein and sinew of his neck to solid muscles and mounds over his arms and across his chest. He had a tattoo of some sort on his back, the Raven, Jaiden thought, for the tips of its wings were visible on his sides. His dark male nipples sat upon two slabs of veined muscle. His ribs and abdomen were ridges of carved out bronze. Even the tease of black hair around his navel and an inch showing above the trousers, was sexual.
She stared--could not help it, running her palms up his waist and sides to his under arms. He raised his arms to lightly grasp the top of the wing back chair. It fanned muscle out from his back, bunched them at his shoulders. His wavy hair now mussed from her fingers and ruffled over his forehead, the stuff shimmering blue black against the cream fabric.
Jaiden raised her head to find him watching her face through slightly veiled lashes, ebony stare glistening, and his expression erotic.
“What a fortunate woman I am, to view such an amazing specimen of manhood,” Jaiden rasped. Her hands cupped the underside of his arms. “You’re an incredibly delicious man.” That was not a lie.
His white teeth raked his lip before he wet them. She slid her hands so that her palms were over his nipples.
Raven said deep and strained, “Your hands feel good.”
He felt...amazing. Jaiden touched all that she could with sluggish rubbing strokes, feeling his eyes on her nude body and face while she did so. She leaned up for a kiss, gasping soft when her nipples touched his chest. She bit his lip, soothed it with her tongue, loving the velvet feel of his mouth, liking the sound he made between a growl and a groan.
As he had done, Jaiden skimmed her mouth over his lean jaw and back to his ear, feeling his hands lower and press her more against him. However, she was lost in tasting the sinew of his nape, scraping her nails lightly across the back of his shoulders.
He cupped her buttocks and stood with her abruptly. After an initial jerk of surprise, Jaiden clasped her arms around his neck. Her legs locked to keep herself from falling.
She picked up the urgency and tension in him, it escalated her own. Breathing fast, ardent he held her with one hand, and used his boot to shove the little table back. Raven lowered her to the Turkish green carpet.
The feel of his large frame between her legs sent a rush of fire through her blood. Hands moving to his upper arms, she allowed her legs to slide down the sleek material of his hips until her feet were on the floor. He was on his knees and rose so that her hands fell away. He removed her shoes but not her stockings.
There was an intensity of fire, lust and desire to his movements. It was like a charge running over her, thus Jaiden could not help the sounds she made when he leaned up and kissed her harder, sexily rougher. His hands were on her breasts, down and aside her hips, one gliding down and up her thigh, until he was tugging slightly at the curls between them.
Moaning Jaiden arched up, her hands feeling him from hair to hips, -the both of them were filling the room with such dicey inflexible breaths.
He broke the kiss, his mouth flushed and damp, his stare iridescent , holding hers as his finger sank deep, sliding sleek and firm, in and out.
He dipped to lave and suckle her breasts.
“Raven...Raven...” Jaiden was on fire. So adrift that Jaiden was afraid she would never find her way back. Instinct and hunger was all she felt. When he released her nipple, she found his with her mouth. Incredibly the stroke of her tongue tasting them, the caress of them inside her lips as he kept some easy but deep stroke with his finger below, sent her deeper into a burning insatiable lust.
Her hands were grasping, smoothing, nails biting. Without thought, her legs had widened and her hips undulating. His scent and heat over her, the power of him, and the taste of his flesh merged with the pleasure of what he did with that touch.
There was no other sound or scent, no other thoughts as he started sliding down, out of her reach. Raven’s mouth was everywhere.
He withdrew his touch. His warm hands stroked and caressed her legs. He kissed and nibbled from inside her knee to the edge of her sex, treating both before he slid two fingers to part the curls, slickening some amazingly sensitive spot.
He sat up more, his voice raspy, “Was he a good lover?”
“What...what?” Jaiden moaned feeling a strange submerging. Both wanting, and fighting it.
“Your husband...”
“No. No he didn’t want me.” She hardly attended what she said. Her head was moving against the carpet, her legs trembling, sex aching. That feeling, bloody hell, what was happening?
“Mistresses are paid to lie.”
She had no idea what he meant by that, but was lost and on fire with hungers. The words came of their own accord, “He took me three times in as few months. My God. What is happening to me?”
Jaiden opened her eyes seeing a skewed and foggy vision of the room. Forgetting she was supposed to be experienced and sophisticated, or rather unable to think, she arched her neck her hand covering his between her legs and whispered, “I can’t touch you like this, let me think a moment...”
“Not on your life,” he whispered.
She raised her head to look at him. Everything was a haze. “Don’t you want me to pleasure you?”
“You are.” He paused a moment and leaned up to kiss her. Reclined on his side, Raven gazed down at her while he took her hand a moment, guiding her fingers to feel what he was feeling, the soft curls, the silk inner lips, the sticky heat, and the swollen nerves he’d pet into firmness.
“You’re going to climax, very soon.” He held her gaze, his face intense.
That word registered from the research she had done. Jaiden had been told not to expect it, to fake it, and do moaning, screaming too, they advised, and all sorts of things she could not recall. Lost in the depth of his eyes she could only whisper, “I was told men don’t bother with—that most don’t need—to pretend. Oh, God...”
She clutched his shoulder. His fingers rubbed again. “Don’t change your mind on keeping me because of this,” she nearly growled with effort to think and not be engulfed in that wave.” I’ll make it up t—”
“Relax, Elf. I would not trade this for a dozen skilled whores. I wouldn’t let you go now if you begged me.” Raven’s mouth came down. He kissed her deep and sexual. Having raised his head a moment later, he held the back of hers, lightly grasping her hair, his finger dipped into her sex and held there.
Her muscles contracted around it. He said, “You’re a prize, Elf. Your husband was a fool. You are nearly as tight as a virgin. How long....”
“Almost seven years.”
“Christ,” He kissed her hard enough to steal her breath. Putting his damp lips near her ear he whispered, “Fly, little Elf. I’ll give you wings and take you to the sun.”
Holding to him when he touched that spot, sweet but firm, Jaiden arched her neck against his palm. Her jasper eyes rolled back. Her lashes closed. Tremors ran through her after the scattering of embers. Her sex clamped hard when his finger found the sheathe again, rippling, milking every drop of golden sweetness and hungry lust, all rolled into an incredible wave.