Red Cloak of Abandon (4 page)

the attic. They were surely from his younger days, being slimmer now

than his portly weight. However, she still had to take them in consider-

ably, and the buttoned up, square-pocketed, front of the breeches were

unique to her. Of course, she had seen them before, but certainly never

had them on to see them work. It made that unique place between a man’s

legs seem that much more mysterious, and it made her feel strangely

heated to know that a few buttons undone in the front and her sex would

be exposed.

Of course she had seen a male organ twice in her life. One time when

her uncle had been ill and circumstances left her, in one instant, the only

one available at the precisely urgent moment to help him. It had been a

fleeting glimpse and it had shocked her. She had been a young girl then,

nearly the age of fifteen, and when she had imagined such things,

somehow they were vaguely majestic and commanding. Certainly not

withered and red looking. Up until that time she had no idea of the size,

shape, position, or the condition of that area between a man’s legs. She

was quite disappointed, but that was until she had seen Bartley, who was

the Redgrift’s head groom. She had been innocently passing by the

stables in her seventeenth year, when a swatch of color had caught her

eye through a wider slat on the side of the stable building. Immediately

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curious that she could see it, she had stopped and leaned forward to peek.

That was when she had see Bartley pissing in the hay or more precisely

she had seen his organ, a long healthy pink-skinned organ. What a

revelation that had been to enliven her.

Since that day and through many whispered conversations with her

best of friends Brevity, Caprice, and Diversity, she had a vague under-

standing of the look and function of the male organ, this pocketed front

concealed in a man’s breeches. She was certain that most of the function

they imagined was vastly fanciful, gleaned from bits and pieces the girls

had been able to pick up along the way. They would take these bits of

information, not enough to obtain a truly clear picture, and they would

twist them around in their talks, until they seemed to fit logically. Of

course, that meant it really was only fictional imagery. It was sad that

such sexual things were kept so secret. Of course, it also fueled their

desires to know the truth of it.

All of them had learned the art of touching themselves to climatic

conclusion. Never together of course, but they had spoken about it as true

friends do when revealing secrets. They spoke, giggling of stroking

between their legs to relieve the insistent aches that built there upon odd

occasions.
Such as the one that was beginning to happen between her

thighs now,
Affinity thought, looking at the dark woolen sweater she wore.

She could not wear a corset with this attire and it left her breasts free

flowing beneath a light chemise and the sweater. She could feel the wool

grazing her nipple tips with each shift of her body, and she was surprised,

but had to admit wearing the outfit alone was arousing her.

“Of course, it cannot be that I intend to sneak into Law’s home,”

Affinity declared as she grabbed her veiled bonnet and stuffed it on top

of her head. It did not fit well because she had piled her hair in a large

bun on the top of her head. The bonnet and veil also looked quite

ridiculous with the rest of her clandestine outfit. However, she felt the

need to be masked and this was the best she could come up with.

Affinity assured herself that the entire objective was that no one was

to see her, so it mattered little what she actually looked like. She was

even going so far as to walk to Law’s home, rather than hiring a hackney.

She would stealthily keep to the alleyways and the shadows. So, she

picked up the last bit of her furtive costume, a small black billy club that

she had found in the attic. She could not go out alone through the back

alleys without protection.

This week, she had watched Law’s home nearly every day until as

late in the evening as she could manage. What she had learned was that

none of his servants stayed in residence overnight, which was very odd.

But, she had also learned today quite by chance of overhearing Law’s

groom say that the carriage needed to be brought out because his grace

was going to a boxing event.

Affinity had quickly left then to check the times of this boxing event.

Luckily there was only one boxing match that it could be and that left the

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field open if she was brave enough to raise the game she wanted to play

higher.

Really, curiosity drove her common sense in this matter entirely

astray. She had already admitted to herself that she had a complete and

overblown crush on the Duke of St. Martin. She had never experienced

one before and it was quite breathtaking. Brevity had once had a crush

over a mature and refined school master at Lady Whitmore’s Academy

for Young Ladies. The crush had been quite dramatic and Affinity now

understood why. The feelings inside her had no real logic to them. They

were simply bold and nearly overpowering. They created this momen-

tous desire inside her to discover more about the object of her affection.

But she was not doing this completely because of her amorous urges.

She had a plan. The infancy of a plan at least. She would learn all that she

could about Law, in the process making certain he was worthy of her

amorous intent, and then she would use the knowledge to entice Law’s

mind and soul. She would be all that he desired. In fact, she would seduce

him if that were possible.

So determinedly, Affinity managed to make good time and was not

seen as she made her way to Law’s home some five blocks away. She

approached his townhouse from the rear, having to physically climb a

stone wall to do so. It was quite an event for her, and she resolved that

she was physically weak for all the effort it cost her. Luckily, the stone

wall had shifted and become uneven over time, allowing her to find

handholds and footholds to lift herself and draw her cumbersome body

over the top.

She resolved, as she sat atop the stone fence, puffing hard breaths,

that she was immediately going to start a physical regiment to overcome

this irritating weakness.

“Women just sit on their posteriors too long,” she muttered, looking

for a way to lower herself down the inside of the stone wall.

What she spied was the low hanging branch of a tree next to the wall.

So very daring, she used this with a small leap and managed to catch the

branch in her hands, which dangled her feet closer to the ground below.

Then, she let go and it was only a short distance to land on her feet. She

smiled vividly, realizing how brave and determined she was in her goal.

It felt glorious to take charge like this, and the hum of excitement filling

her body was like an aphrodisiac.

Carefully and silently, Affinity picked her way through the garden

to the back of Law’s townhouse. There were a few lights burning, yet

they appeared dim and they did not overly worry her because many

people left a few lights on for their return. Now came the tricky part. How

to get inside? She had thought this over and as of yet, had not come up

with many good answers. She could only hope that some part of the

townhouse had been left open.

So with this hope, she began to systemically try every window and

door as quietly as she could. She was down on her hands and knees trying

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a lowercase window outside what appeared to be Law’s study, when

suddenly a face loomed before her on the other side of the window pane.

Affinity yelped, rearing back and clamping a hand over her mouth to

contain any further sounds, with her gaze leaping from a short distance

unfocused, to a longer distance focused.

“Beauty,” she whispered through her fingers, looking at Law’s

russet setter gazing back at her eagerly through the window pane. “Oh,

shh shh,”
she added quickly, hoping he would not bark at her.

But Beauty just sat there gazing at her hopefully with his tail

wagging. Still, he looked as though he could start barking at her at any

moment, so she backed away slowly. It would be better to try the other

rooms windows where Beauty was not perched, she decided as she

moved back into the shadows. Next, she tried the dining room windows

and she was standing on her tiptoes, industriously intent on a side

window, when something poked her on her bottom.

“Oh my God!” Affinity squealed, jumping and turning and tripping

all in what felt like the same motion. Then, she found herself landing on

her posterior in the flower patch under the window. A large shape loomed

over her and before she could think, the next thing that happened made

her laugh outright. It was Beauty’s wet tongue licking her cheek.

“Oh
you!” Affinity gushed fondly, grasping Beauty in a hug, then

raised herself to sit beside him. “You scared the devil out of me,” Affinity

scolded him as she thoroughly petted him, to his happily wagging tail. It

took her a few minutes to catch her breath and her wits, when she finally

realized . . . “How did you get outside, Beauty?”

Immediately, Beauty trotted away as though he understood her

question and Affinity got to her feet to follow, hoping this did not mean

someone had
let
Beauty outdoors. But, what Beauty led her to was a

small door within a door. “How clever,” Affinity whispered, watching

Beauty push through the small door that moved inward with his nudge.

This door was obviously built specially for Beauty to let him in and out

of the gardens whenever he wished.

If she had been a man or just inches wider, she would not have made

it through the door. However, she just fit sideways with only a few

scrapes. Once inside, she found herself in a darkened pantry, and as she

got to her feet, dusting herself off, she patted Beauty’s head. “Well I have

gone and done it now,” Affinity whispered, looking down into Beauty’s

loyal brown eyes.

She stood still for several minutes listening silently to the quiet

house. There were no noises at all and she felt certain with some inner

sense added that she was alone. Her goal in this search was to find some

of Law’s interests and likes, as in the boxing that she now knew he

favored. By the time she met him, she would know all there was to know

about boxing. Wouldn’t that surprise any gentleman? A lady knowing

how to converse intelligently about any sport, and not just her next

embroidering projects? These ideas that kept coming to her had such

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merit! A man and a woman could have true companionship, if they had

things in common. It was so much better to have things in common, than

relying upon appearance and social standings.
Yes,
Affinity thought,

these thoughts bolstered her. It was much different planning to do

something as opposed to actually doing it—as in right now.

She started out very timidly, but quickly her curiosity and interest

overcame her hesitations and she was quite enjoying herself. And,
that

was when she found the journal. She had looked through Law’s library

finding a great many clues to his nature there. He was currently reading

Mystery Island by Jules Vern set on a table by a comfortable reading

chair that appeared well used. The library shelves held a great many

books about military history and warfare, making her wonder if he had

ever been to war. There was a chess set opened on the table, so she

assumed that he liked chess. The room itself smelled wonderful also, like

smoky cherries, pine, and books. The smoky cherry flavor in the air had

her wondering, until she found a box of cigarillos, which were small thin

cigars.
Oh
she had heard of these. They were not a usual “find” in

England and it took a lot of her will power not to pocket one and later

perhaps daringly try a puff. Then, as much to keep herself from taking a

cigarillo, as to further her explorations, she moved from Law’s library to

his study.

She had come directly to his desk, naturally looking down, and spied

what appeared to be a private journal set on top of the oak-inlaid desk.

She fingered the brackish-brown and worn tooled leather on the outside

cover of the journal, thinking that she had not yet decided whether or not

she would actually explore closed drawers or closets, which felt more

like an invasion, just as opening this journal would be perhaps. The

journal could simply be his household bookkeeping, but the look and feel