My Naughty Minette (Properly Spanked Book 3) Page 10

  Minette nodded.

  “In the case of your husband, you must disregard all of that. You see”—Esme sat up very straight, away from Minette—“this is a proper distance.” She slouched closer to Minette, so her bosom brushed against her arm, and her lips were rather alarmingly close to Minette’s. “This is an improper distance. It lets a husband know that it’s perfectly all right to touch you. In fact, if you combine it with the appropriate expression and body language, he may kiss you then and there, and take you in his arms.”

  “Do you think so?” Minette could so easily picture it. She’d dreamed it a thousand times. “So I must tempt and tease, and be seductive.”

  “Yes, mercilessly seductive. If you’re having trouble getting into a seductive mood, think about stroking your kitty, and how pleasant it makes you feel. Better yet, do it in reality, just before you go to dinner, or the opera, or whenever you’re going to be around Lord August. Men have a very good sense for when a woman is aroused. It tends to arouse them in turn.”

  “Oh. Why, that’s so very simple. I’ve been too proper around him, I suppose, in an attempt to be a respectable wife.”

  “You mustn’t be too respectable, my dear. It’s the kiss of death when it comes to exciting your husband. You surely know that from your romantic novels.”

  “None of the people in those books are married. At least, not until the end, but by then, the story is already over.”

  Esme patted her hand. “In real life, your story is just beginning. Lord Augustine is a good sort of man, and I wish both of you much happiness. Just think in your mind that you are sensual and exciting, and that he excites you, and don’t hesitate to show it. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, I’m going to try.” Minette tried not to blush. She must be bolder from now on, and not so prim and respectable. “I can’t wait to try all these tricks you’ve told me. It might even be fun.”

  “Of course it will be fun.” Esme gave her a genuine smile. “Now, would you like to borrow those books I told you about? I have a few that are much more instructive than a pamphlet.”

  Esme was teasing her about the pamphlet. Why, it was as if they were friends. Not that they could really be friends, society being what it was, but Minette was grateful for her warmth and encouragement. “I would love to borrow the books, if you think they will help.”

  Esme’s brown eyes sparkled. “I think they’ll help very much. Wait here, if you please.”

  The woman left the room and came back a short time later with four volumes, some slim, some a little thicker. She laid them in Minette’s lap. “You see they are all illustrated, to make it easier to envision the author’s advice.”

  Minette opened the top book and leafed through the first few pages. Oh my. She began to flush all over again. Why, the drawings went a bit beyond lewd into the realm of shocking.

  “Perhaps it will seem disturbing to view such things and read more explicit texts, but I daresay Lord Augustine will thank you for it. I assure you he’s read similar books, and all gentlemen are aroused by the acts depicted therein.”

  “Are they really?” Minette turned the book sideways, trying to figure out what the gentleman was doing to the lady in the picture. Tempt and tease, and be seductive. If Lord August craved salacious acts, then my goodness, she would learn about them for his happiness. No one could accuse her of not trying hard enough. She’d do anything to win his heart.

  “Dear Esme,” she said. “I hate to trouble you, but can you have these books delivered to Barrymore House later today? I don’t dare bring them in the carriage. I was supposed to be at the milliner’s, and my maid is waiting for me. Wrap them in paper, if you please, addressed to Lady Augustine, and then I’ll have them delivered back to you once I’ve read them.”

  “That sounds fine. Include a note, please, about how your new tactics have worked, and if you have any more questions. I have a great fondness for Lord Augustine, and if you love him as much as you say you do, I can only wish you well.”

  Minette gazed back at the woman. She didn’t want her to have a fondness for her husband, but she supposed it couldn’t be helped. She wanted to beg her not to see him ever again, but that would sound silly and sad, and so she bit her tongue and gave her the address of the house so the books might be delivered. She’d taken far longer here than she intended. She was glad when she returned to the coach that the maid had been too lazy and cold to set out after her.

  She was also glad the cold weather served as a believable excuse for the lingering redness in her cheeks.

  As soon as they got home, Minette sent her lady’s maid away, pretending to need a nap. Instead, she practiced her seductive expressions in the looking glass for nearly an hour. She came to understand it had very much to do with relaxation, with releasing tensions, and letting her mouth and eyes go soft. She thought of the scandalous pictures in the books Esme promised to send, and her insistence that August would find such interactions enticing. Minette would study those books until she knew everything and anything a woman could do for her husband’s pleasure, and he would surely reciprocate by giving her pleasure too.

  Why, he had given her pleasure that night at the Townsends’, at least until the point he had thrust inside her and shocked her sensibilities. He had roused her so thoroughly that her body had shattered into ecstasy. She didn’t admit it to Esme, but she did indeed stroke her kitty sometimes, when she remembered August kissing her and touching her, and licking her there. She peered into the looking glass and drew up her gown, and put her fingertips on that warm, sensitive place. She stroked it as he’d stroked it, with a light, teasing touch, as she gazed at her reflection. Oh, it did make her eyes go soft and needy. She drew in a soft breath through parted lips.

  A knock at the door had her pushing her skirts back down again. “What is it?” she called out.

  “A message, my lady.”

  The books must have arrived. Minette went to the door and opened it to find a footman with a note, rather than a parcel. She took it from the man, broke the seal, and opened it.

  I require you in the study at once.

  A.

  A for August. Well, a summons from her husband was even better than the books. She was eager to practice her seductive wiles. She’d just been touching her kitty, further fixing her in the proper mood. “Let him know I shall be down shortly,” she told the servant.

  *** *** ***

  August paced the floor of his study until he heard Minette’s knock at the door. She knocked again then, a bit louder.

  “Come in,” he barked. “It’s half open, and you live here, for heaven’s sake.”

  He blew out a breath. He mustn’t let his temper get the better of him, not until he heard her side of things. Although he didn’t know what she might say to exonerate herself, since the books that had been delivered to his neighbor were wrapped in brown paper with her name clearly written on the front.

  She came into the room with an odd sort of slow, fluttering walk. What was wrong with her? And did she have an eyelash in both eyes? She was blinking and staring at him in the strangest, gawking way. “Good afternoon,” she said, coming so close to him that he had to take a step back. There was something unnatural about her smile, her expression. She stared at him, her mouth ajar.

  “Have you been drinking?” he asked her sharply.

  “No.” She took another step closer. He tilted up her chin and studied her eyes. She wasn’t drunk, no. He couldn’t smell spirits on her breath, but she was acting damned peculiar. “You wanted to speak with me?” she asked.

  He took another step back. “I most certainly did want to speak with you. Our neighbor has just brought over these books, which he nearly gave to his daughter, Lady Augusta. She is seven years old.”

  His wife looked at the plain-covered volumes and blushed, and swallowed hard. “Oh. That would have been unfortunate.”

  “Can you explain why this might have happened?” He thought he sounded very calm, considering th
e state of his angst.

  “Well, I suppose whoever delivered the parcel must have mistaken our address.”

  He flung the books down on the desk. “Damn it, Minette. Everyone hates me enough for jilting Colton’s daughter. You needn’t add fuel to the fire by having these sorts of things delivered in my name to the wrong damn address.” So much for keeping his temper. She was no longer standing very close. “Where did you get them? Where on earth would you procure such volumes?”

  She started to say something, then stopped, then started again. “You will find this the most appalling story, August, and there’s every reason you should, for I’m so ashamed to have done this. But I’m going to be perfectly honest and—”

  “Where?” he interrupted in a thunderous voice.

  “Dirty Esmeralda.”

  Now he was the one blinking and staring. He could not for the life of him process what she’d just said. “Did you... Did you just say ‘Dirty Esmeralda’?”

  She took another step back. “Yes. I know I should not have gone to speak with her.”

  “You went to speak with her?”

  August grasped for calm. Minette could not know of Dirty Esmeralda or his visits to Garrett Street over the years, and even if she did know, she couldn’t possibly have gone to see her. A woman of Minette’s station would never acknowledge the existence of a courtesan, much less visit her. Would she? But this was Minette, who hadn’t the least bit of sense.

  “I don’t want to say how I knew a-b-bout her,” his wife stammered beneath his darkening regard. “Except that I was a rather petite child and it was easy to hide places and eavesdrop, and listen to conversations when you all didn’t think I was listening, and so I knew that you and Dirty Esmeralda—”

  “Stop saying her name,” he snapped. “What I do with that woman is none of your damned business. It’s nothing you ought to know.”

  “Yes, that’s absolutely true,” said Minette. “And I wish I had never eavesdropped or learned about her, or gotten the idea to visit her because I thought she might know a bit more about you than I know, since you two have been on intimate terms for quite a while longer than you and I—”

  He put his hands over his ears. “Stop. Stop talking. Just stop.” He covered his face with his hands. If anyone saw her at Esme’s doorstep, she would be ruined. He would be ruined. Warren would eviscerate him. “You didn’t go see her, did you? You didn’t really go and meet with her.”

  “I’m afraid I did. But I can explain.”

  “There’s no explanation you could give me that would make this all right. When did you go? Who saw you?”

  “No one saw me,” she said in a tone of reassurance. “I took great care to conceal my identity and knock at the back door. And she was ever so pleasant a lady, considering I showed up unannounced. I can see why you enjoy her company.”

  “No, Minette. You and I are not going to converse about Esmeralda and what a pleasant lady she is. Do you understand what you’ve done? You’ve paid a call on a courtesan. You borrowed lewd books from her.”

  “Yes, and I’m terribly sorry they were delivered to the wrong address. What a coil it would have been if little Augusta had cracked one of them open. They’re not meant for children.”

  “Not meant for children.” He kept repeating her because he couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. He couldn’t believe any of this was happening. She had paid a call to a courtesan—his courtesan. He felt outrage, shame, and a dozen other emotions he didn’t really have words for. He could feel the flush rising in his face as she gazed at him with her wide blue eyes. “Come here, Minette,” he ordered.

  She gave him an assessing look. “I’m not sure I want to do that.”

  “Come here,” he repeated with a great deal more heat.

  “Why? What are you going to do?”

  “I’m either going to spank you or wring your daft little neck.” She could not continue with these irresponsible capers, not with all the other challenges of his current life. She had gone to visit Esme, his longtime paramour. He couldn’t believe it.

  He couldn’t allow it to happen again.

  She took a step back, and another. “If you would just let me explain why I felt the need to—”

  “Come here,” he said in a voice that was really very strident indeed.

  “I don’t want to come there,” she replied. “I think I would rather go to my room, or take a walk in the garden. Shall we go and have a walk in the garden together? I believe you need it. Outdoor strolls can be ever so calming for choleric humors. You know, it’s not a good idea to discipline a person when you’re angry. My brother always waited until he calmed down before he punished me for something, especially if it was a serious offense. Or an irritating offense. Would you say you are more irritated or angry at the moment?”

  And there it snapped, the last attenuated strand of his patience. He strode toward her with a growl, arms outstretched to grab her and turn her over his knee, and redden her bottom until it hurt even to look at it. By the time he finished spanking her, she’d wish he’d throttled her instead. She’d certainly wish she’d never gone calling on Esme.

  With a squeak of alarm, his wife turned in a whirl of skirts and fled.

  Chapter Nine: Frustrated

  Minette ran out of her husband’s study and down the east corridor, past formal portraits and rich tapestries. It wasn’t at all dignified for a lady to run, arms pumping and legs flying, but if she didn’t run fast enough, he’d catch her before she could find a place to hide, and that wouldn’t do at all.

  She could hear August behind her calling her name. She ran faster, toward the grand foyer where there would be footmen, perhaps even the butler to intercede if she begged for his help. Her husband could spank her if he wished, but not now, when he was so clearly furious. So much for her plans of seduction. He’d ignored her wiles, confiscated her books, and snarled at her for visiting Esme. Her immediate future seemed bleak.

  And then she saw a familiar face before her, and heard a beloved greeting. “Ahoy there, mopsy. My word, is there a fire?”

  She threw herself into her brother’s arms, burying her face against his chest. “Thank goodness,” she sobbed, clutching him. “Thank goodness you are here.”

  “Whatever is the matter?” He gazed down at her in consternation. “Are you crying?”

  August’s roar echoed down the hall, along with his footsteps. “Minette! I’m going to catch you, young lady, and when I do—”

  He stopped as soon as he saw her with Warren. She squeaked and took up a position behind her brother’s muscular frame. She couldn’t see Warren’s face but she could see August’s expression go wary.

  “Come to visit?” he asked Warren in clipped tones.

  “Something like that,” Warren replied in an equally cold voice. “Care to explain why you’re bellowing at my sister? And why she’s hiding behind my back?”

  Minette peeked out at her husband. August shifted and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not sure it’s any of your business,” he said, “but we’ve had a row over something she did.”

  “A row? She’s running from you over a row? What have you done to my sister?”

  It terrified Minette, the way he said these words. “He hasn’t done anything,” she said quickly, only so that dark, threatening voice would go away.

  August said nothing, only held her brother’s gaze. Minette let go of Warren, cowed by feelings of guilt that August stood there alone, accused, when she ought to be his support.

  “Don’t glare at him,” she told her brother. “August has every right to be annoyed. I went to call on someone I shouldn’t have called on, and borrowed improper books which were delivered to the wrong address, and a little girl almost received them, and now the neighbors are angry with August, in addition to the Coltons and everyone else.” She took a deep breath, swiping away tears. “I’ve annoyed him while his father’s ill, and his mother dislikes me, and he never meant
me to be here anyway, and—”

  “Minette.” August’s voice cut off her painful recitation. “Perhaps you will walk in the garden while I speak with your brother alone.”

  Anxiety made her face and ears go hot. “Are you going to tell him to take me away?”

  “Do you want to go away?” asked Warren. “I’ll take you this minute if you wish.”

  “You’re not taking her anywhere,” August said.

  “Don’t argue, please.” She moved so she stood between her brother and her husband. “Don’t fuss at August, Warren. I don’t want to go. But after today’s misadventures, I’m afraid he’ll make me go.”

  Warren looked back at August. It was hard to believe the two men had ever been friends; there was such animosity between them now. Because of you, impossible girl. All of this is your fault.

  How many times had her brother warned her that August wouldn’t make her a suitable husband? She had thought she’d known better. She ought to have listened and saved everyone a great deal of pain. “I don’t want to go,” she said to August. “I’ll behave better, I promise. I’ll stop annoying you. I’ll stay in my room and—”

  “Minette, I’m not sending you away.” August softened his voice and took her hand, just for a moment, before letting it go. “I’m not sending you anywhere, but I think I’d better have a word with your brother now that he’s here. Don’t you agree?”

  She looked between the two glowering men. “Perhaps you and Warren ought to stroll in the gardens. As I said, it’s very calming for choleric humors. And I can... I can go and find Mrs. Collins and arrange for some tea.”

  “Yes, why don’t the two of us stroll in the garden?” said Warren. “And then we’ll have tea. You were very good to think of it, darling.”

  The affection in his voice almost started her sobbing again. What a failure he must think her. August would doubtless tell him all her shortcomings and Warren would realize she was a terrible wife. Perhaps he would insist on taking her away for August’s sake. What a muddle she’d made for everyone, all because of her sleepwalking and because she had pretended to be a servant girl when she wasn’t a servant girl.