Aristocratic secrets as virginity is lost, a bride is found, deals are made and the family line is secured.
“Good evening m”lud. May I present Miss Helen Peters?”
My butler, Grainger delivered the young girl to my quarters for our late night liaison.
She was a couple of months, older than me, the daughter of our gamekeeper and his wife, Nanny Peters, who had looked after me since the day I was born.
Helen – or Lainey as I had always called her, helped her mother and had been my constant companion. We had played together throughout our 14 years, but now it was time for me to leave my childhood behind and become a man.
Lainey was going to help me complete the ultimate rite of passage.
She was dressed in a knee length cotton nightgown – appropriately virginal white in colour.
She wouldn’t be leaving until the morning…
She gave a nervous giggle once Grainger had departed and stood awkwardly before me.
I told her she looked “very nice” and she did. Her mother had made her a special effort with her daughter’s hair and she was wearing make up for the first time. She seemed more grown up and womanly than ever. And, although I had never seen her in a nightie before, I was sure that this one must be new. The crisp, milk white cotton bodice cradled her breasts, emphasising their curves and the flimsy skirt hung loosely from her hips, offering ready, unhindered access to her sex.
“You know why you are here, don’t you?” I asked.
She nodded, “Yes m’lud. Mum, er Nanny Peters explained it all,” she whispered.
“What do you mean, “m’lud”, you’ve never called me that before!” I teased my old friend.
“Erm yeah. Sorry Charlie, I suppose I’m just a bit nervous.
Should I take this off?”
She reached for the nightie’s fastenings, but I halted her, taking her hand – I would undress her myself – in my own good time.
“There’s no rush,” I told her, ” And don’t worry, you know I’ll be gentle.” I kissed her softly and poured us both a glass of brandy. My tutor Mr Burgoyne had said the alcohol would help us to relax.
We chatted as we drank but Lainey had never tasted brandy before and the unfamiliar taste was did little to calm her, so l decided not to delay any further.
The moment had come.
I led her to her feet, undid her ties of her gown and stroked the simple garment from her shoulders, leaving her standing, naked in a puddle of white cotton.
I had seen Lainey naked many times before, but this was different. This wasn’t frivolous, light hearted, adolescent ¹play. This was a new, erotic, sensual step into the adult world.
The girl, didn’t know what to do with her hands. Feeling more exposed than ever, she instinctively wanted to hide her body and protect her modesty, but she knew that she mustn’t.
She wasn’t a child anymore.
She was a young woman and tonight she must surrender herself to a man.
She must allow herself to be taken in the way had always taken women since the dawn of time.
It was what her body was for – she had no choice.
Her mother had promised her that she would like it – although it might hurt at first.
There was no turning back.
Every woman had to face her first time and this was hers.
“Do you like what you see?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood, as she clasped her hands behind her back
“Oh yes,” I smiled, asking to turn around for me, “Oh yes, I like it very much indeed, Lainey.”
Neither of us knew what to say as I took her to my grand four-poster bed.
She lay back, as she knew she should, and opened her legs to receive me.
I pushed off my robe and revealed my own nakedness for the first time that evening.
Lainey was no stranger to my cock. She had wanked or sucked me out of my morning slumber every day, since my infancy, but now she stared at it with apprehension.
She knew it would fit into her mouth, but could she take in her pussy? How would it feel inside her? How much would it hurt?
I straddled her, trembling on the verge of manhood.
There would be no foreplay – Burgoyne had never told me there should be. I simply pressed my member into the soft folds of her intimate entrance.
The delicate lips yielded to my incursion, parted by the girth of my first few inches, gripping it snugly.
We both sighed in response to the new sensations emanating through our bodies and the thrilling realisation that “this was it” – we were having sex!
Actual.
Real life.
Grown up.
Man and woman sex!
It was a moment of blissful relief. We were doing it. It wasn’t difficult every thing would be fine…
Then I hit a barrier.
I stopped in my tracks.
Burgoyne had warned me that this might happen.
I told Lainey to “brace” herself and then thrust my member into her with all my might, ripping the troublesome membrane apart and delving deep inside her.
I hammered away in jubilation. Lainey’s body was mine to use and this was so much better than any blow job she had ever given me.
I was eager to complete the deed.
There was no time to waste.
I wanted it and I wanted it now!
And I did it.
Cumming deep inside young servant. Filling her mix and taking my manly pleasure.
I rolled back onto my bed – a sticky string of spunk remaining between us in a lewd connection.
I small pool of juices formed upon the mattress.
Evidence our union.
A combination of my semen and her blood.
We were both grown ups now.
Lainey remained on her back quietly looking up at the ceiling. Indeed I didn’t recall her saying anything at all since the squeal that heralded the loss of her maidenhead.
She was such a good girl, lying there, offering up her body for my personal fulfillment.
I told her she was beautiful – it was only polite – and played with her titties for a while until I was hard enough to mount her once more and fuck her missionary style, again, as nature intended.
———
We slept well and Lainey woke me with my traditional morning blowjob, swallowing it all as her mother had trained her to do.
We were both still naked, of course, and although I was quite brazen about it, Lainey shyly tried to conceal herself beneath the bedclothes when I summoned the butler to bring us our breakfast.
I think he was as embarrassed as her.
After breakfast my young lover reached for my cock. “Oh,” she said, a little surprised, “It’s hard already. Does that mean you want to do it again?”
“Of course. Why not? How could I resist a sexy little girl like you?
“Oo sir,” she giggled, parting her thighs, “You’ll make me blush…”
“And you know what you’ll make me do, don’t you?” I teased.
“I do.
I hope I pleased you last night sir. You weren’t disappointed were you?”
“Not in the slightest. You were very good. Very good indeed.” I assured her rather formally. “I hope I wasn’t too rough on you.” I added as a courtesy.
“No, not really, but the first time was a bit scary. But you went slower after that and it was nicer.”
I took the hint, although I wasn’t accustomed to accepting criticism from my servants.
I rolled back onboard and took the girl more gently, more patiently, more tenderly, savouring the moment and enjoying the gifts of her body.
I took time to look her in the eyes, stroke her shoulders, rub her belly and fondle those beloved boobs whilst I rocked my hips, sliding my cock up and down the silken sleeve of her sex.
This was nice.
It was better.
More sensuous
There was no need to rush.
The girl was mine to enjoy for as long as I wished.
The tension in my loins built up more slowly, prolonging my pleasure.
Lainey seemed to be enjoying it too.
Her hips moving with mine.
Her breaths becoming deeper.
Her pussy wetter.
She arched her back, “Oooh Charlie……”
The bedroom door burst open.
“Time you left girl!” Commanded my mother.
“Oh yes, yes, of course Ma’am,” Lainey stumbled, fleeing my bed, gathering up her clothes and scampering away in her nakedness.
“What the hell…” I exclaimed, cursing in front of my mother for the first time in my life.
“I’m sorry to spoil your fun,” she explained, “but you ought to know that your father died last night.” she told me calmly, without emotion.
“Oh, er,” I didn’t know what to say
“He, er passed away in his bed – his own bed.” my mother continued, in a matter of fact kind of way.
“Oh I see.
I am sorry…”
“Why? There’s no need to be. We hardly saw him. He was never a father to you and he hadn’t been a proper husband to me for years. We won’t really miss him will we?”
“Yes but…”
“I know. You’re right. We have to keep up appearances. The house will go into a state of mourning until seven days after the funeral. You and I will wear black and Grainger will issue all staff with black armbands.
Oh, that is what you wish isn’t it?
After all, it is up to you.
With your father gone, you are now the 31st Earl of Roddingham.”
—————–
The next couple of weeks were pretty hectic with lots of well meaning visitors offering condolences and congratulating me on my new title. All the staff and servants being unusually courteous towards me. And mother and I trying to appear solemn and serious when we were actually feeling quite ambivalent about the whole thing.
Unfortunately it did mean Lainey and I couldn’t “get together” again for a while.
It would hardly be seemly for a recently bereaved Earl to be shagging his gamekeeper’s daughter, when he should be mourning his father’s passing.
Ironically I don’t think the old man would have minded, especially if the rumours about him dying “in the saddle” meant what I thought they did!
Anyway, once the funeral was done with, everything largely returned to normal. Of course, I had to start going to more formal events and I had moved into the best bedroom, my mother ( the, now Dowager Countess) said it was “only right”, but she continued to look after most of the household affairs as she has always done.
Mother did start to get a lot more visitors, though.
A regular stream of Ladies made their way to visit mum at Roddingham. Some were her close friends, but many were mere acquaintances. However they all had one thing in common – they were all accompanied by their unmarried daughters.
Whether I liked it or not I was what one might call “an eligible bachelor”. Having just turned 15 with an honourable title, along with grand estates in Norfolk and Scotland and all the wealth that went with them. There was no shortage of aristocratic parents hoping to make their daughters my bride.
I can’t deny that some of the girls were very beautiful, all of them were most charming and attentive, many had learned to play the piano or had sweet singing voices. But they were all trying too hard, doing their best to impress me, wanting to please their mothers and improve their families’ fortunes.
All striving to hide their true personality and present a veneer of genteel feminine perfection.
I wasn’t so easily taken in – none of them were as lovely as my dear Lainey, but she could never be mine.
‐————–
After many visits from “would-be Counteses” I finally met one who was a little different from all the others.
She wasn’t prettiest or the best musician but she was very charming and part of her charm was that she wasn’t afraid to be herself – I’d had my fill of fawning fillies flirting with me, laughing at my jokes and agreeing with everything I had to say.
The girl’s name was Lady Caroline Clearwater.
Like many fine ladies she loved horse riding and shared my interest in the outdoors. But unlike many of her peers, her father had encouraged her to make use of his library too.
We were able to have genuine conversations about history and geography and even science. She was able to teach me new things about the art and portraits that adorned my mansion, but that I had barely noticed before. And she was intrigued by the workings of my household and how it might be improved – an important subject in which I had very little interest.
Of all the potential brides I had met, she appeared to be the best match. An attractive girl to impress my friends, run my household and provide me with good company and companionship.
Naturally, I would also require her to provide me with children to inherit the estate, but she was fit and healthy, so l had no cause for concern on that front.
Our mothers noticed our growing friendship and Lady Clearwater & her daughter became regular visitors – sometimes staying overnight.
It was on one such night that, Peters, my gamekeeper, came to me. It was almost unprecedented for the large weather-beaten man to ask to see me – he looked completely out of place indoors, without or dog or gun.
“What is it Peters?” I asked with genuine concern, he had always been good to me as I’d grown up.
“Well erm er, begging your pardon Sir. Er well it’s the wife, er Nanny Peters.”
“Yes, Peters. Is she ill? I’ll call the doctor immediately! I’ll get her the very best care. I promise. I’m very fond of her.”
“Oh, er no Sir. Sorry Sir. I didn’t wish to alarm you. There is something she thought you should see.”
“Oh, thank God for that,” I gave a sigh of relief, “Give me a moment while I get my boots.”
“Erm, actually you won’t be needing those Sir. It’s in the, erm, guest wing,” he whispered.
I wasn’t very familiar with that part of my mansion, so I relied on Peters to lead the way. He explained that he and my father had been on friendly terms, when they were both young men, and that the late Earl had confided in him when he made certain modifications to the guest quarters.
He led me through a small door into a servants’ stairwell, advising me to “take care” as we ascended a narrow spiral staircase in the darkness. We reached a small ante room and I couldn’t help but notice a large portrait of a reclining nude in (what Caroline had told me was) the style of Rubens.
“What’s that doing here, where no one but the servants will see it?” I asked.
“It was the late Lord’s idea Sir. A little bit of a joke, he thought.”
“Could you help me to take it down Sir. There’s something behind it.
I pray you won’t be offended.”
We lifted it down and I was amazed.
“Peters, there’s a window I can see into… Oh my word, I can see Lady Caroline’s bedroom!
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
What is the meaning of this?”
Peters had turned his back, so as not to see anything that he shouldn’t.
“Begging your pardon Sir. It was your father’s idea. You can see in, but she can’t see out – it looks like a mirror from the other side.”
“Yes, but why would I want to look anyway? What sort of a man do you think I am.”
“I am sorry Sir. I meant no offence, but Mrs Peters thought you ought to know… please just watch for a few minutes. I’ll wait in the stairwell.”
I looked.
I felt so wrong, it felt so wrong, but Nanny Peters must have a good reason. I decided to trust her.
I knew I should avert my gaze, but I couldn’t help myself. I had never seen such things – I’d never even imagined them!
Lady Caroline was preparing for bed and her maid, Meghan, was releasing the stays of corset.
There was nothing unusual about that – it was a normal part of a ladies maid’s duties.
What was unusual was that Meghan was naked.
She was a little older than her mistress and I – I’d say about 20 or 21 if I had to guess. She had full breasts and a full bush and a well rounded arse
She was a good looking girl, but no where near as special as my Lainey
She shapely servant couldn’t take her eyes off her mistress – stripping away her corset with tender care, then reaching around to caress her newly revealed bust with a lover’s desire.
Caroline turned to face her, she had the toned figure and clear complexion of a high born English heiress. She joined her maid in her embrace, stroking her naked back, reaching for her buttocks and meeting her lips in a hungry, passionate kiss.
I was shocked and enthralled in equal measure.
I didn’t know how I should react.
The naked girls cavorting before me, had my cock throbbing, yearning to join the action and take them both.
But my head told me that what they were doing must be wrong and that spying on them must be even worse!
But I kept watching.
The girls broke their embrace.
Meghan slid down her Ladyship’s body.
Kissing and sucking as she went.
Then she removed her underwear and kissed her… there!
Lingering, licking, slavering.
Caroline pushed her hips forward, feeding herself to her maid. She closed her eyes, calling Meghan’s name, moaning, sighing and arching her back as if she was possessed by an invisible force.
I called Peters back into the room.
He entered cautiously, covering his eyes with his hands.
“Look, look man!” I ordered him, ” What the hell’s happening in there?”
“Oh, oh my,” he exclaimed, surprised by the sight before him, “Well Sir. It looks as though the Lady is having a…. erm, what’s the proper word for it? Er, an er orgasm, Sir.”
“Really? Do you think it’s serious? Should I call a doctor?”
“Er, no Sir. I think the lady will be fine.” he reassured me, “If it pleases you Sir, maybe we should leave them alone now.”
“Oh yes, yes, of course.”
We made our way quietly down the stairs and out into the open air before I asked Peters the question that was burning through my brain.
“That thing that you said Lady Caroline had – what did you call it?”
“An orgasm Sir.
It’s what happens to woman when has… well, er sexual pleasure, Sir.”
“Oh, er, thank you.” I pondered for a moment, “but how could she be doing anything sexual, she was with another woman? And anyway, Burgoyne told me that women don’t enjoy sex, they just lay back and please their men.”
Peters chuckled, “Begging your pardon Sir. Mr Burgoyne is a very clever and well educated man, but he is a bachelor, Sir. So maybe he isn’t that knowledgeable in the ways of women. I have to say, I’ve been married for 15 years and they can still be a mystery to me…”
“So do all women do those things with eachother?”
“No, I don’t think so. Most women want sex with men, and they do like to enjoy it. They like being kissed and licked “down there” just as much as we do.
Some them like doing it with other women though.”
“Really. I never knew that.”
“Well, people don’t talk about it. Lots of people say that two women together is wrong. You know, against God and against nature.”
“Oh, so it’s a bad thing then?”
“I don’t know Sir. I’m not a clergyman, I’m just a gamekeeper, but I do believe that God made us all the way we are and I’ve seen so many strange things in nature, that nothing surprises me anymore.
If you ask me, Sir, I’ve seldom seen a young couple more in love than her Ladyship and her maid.
It’s a shame really.”
“A “shame” why would you say that.”
“Well, Sir, I know it isn’t my place to say Sir, but if I may.
The young Lady will soon be married off to a young gentleman. She will have to enter his estate and leave her precious maid behind for ever. She will have to share a man’s bed, perform her wifely duties and bare his children. Even if that’s not her true nature.
I’m sorry Sir. I fear I may have said too much.”
“No apology necessary, Peters. I asked your opinion because I knew you would be honest with me, as you have always been.
Obviously what we have seen tonight is to remain our secret.”
“Yes Sir, of course Sir.”
I bade him goodnight and asked him to pass my regards on to Nanny Peters wondering why she had wanted me to spy on Lady Caroline in her bedroom.
*****************************
It was a magnificent way to start the day.
Lainey woke me in the very best way, using all her skills and experience to bring me to a crashing climax. Draining my loins of every last drop and swallowing it all, as though her life depended upon it.
However, the girl who had been my lifelong companion performed these duties with an air of sadness.
She knew that it would only be a few hours before another woman would replace her in my arms and in my bed.
Lainey and I might never be “together” again.
—————-
My friendship with Lady Caroline had continued to flourish in the months since I had witnessed her and her maid “together”.
I had negotiated, formally, with her father and then, more intimately, with Caroline herself.
We set a date and we were to be married.
A union that would further the fortunes of our noble families and also provide us with the love and pleasure that we both truly desired.
We held our wedding in the private chapel at Roddingham and used the banqueting hall and the ballroom to stage the grandest of celebrations.
The revels became as little more ribald as the day gave way to night.
My new wife discreetly retired to the bridal suite to prepare herself, whilst I enjoyed a little longer carousing with my friends.
Eventually though, it was time to partake of my conjugal rights.
It felt odd to knock on my own bedroom door, but it was only polite.
I was greeted by three giggling slightly embarrassed, young females.
One more nervous than the others.
My bride was standing between her two ladies in waiting. Lainey was now in her service (well, she could hardly continue to be my companion, could she?), as was Meghan whom I had insisted should move to Roddingham with her mistress (to help her feel at home, of course).
Caroline dismissed them both.
“Good evening Lady Roddingham.” I joshed.
“Why good evening Charles Earl of Roddingham.” she smiled.
“You are looking particularly devine this evening.”
“Why thank you kind Sir.” She slipped off a short cape to reveal her full length snow white nightgown, “You have given me my title and it’s time for me to fulfill my part of the bargain.”
She noticed my eyes focusing on her teasing decolletage. “I trust you won’t be disappointed.”
She may not have been with a man before, but she no stranger to intimacy and she knew how best to disrobe and display her body to ignite her lover.
She posed like a mermaid raising from a lake of white silk.
Gorgeous.
Desirable.
And mine.
We didn’t waste a moment.
We both knew why we were there and what we had to do.
Every titled gentleman required an heir and Caroline was going to provide mine.
I stripped off my clothes and took her to bed.
My bride had never seen a cock before and naively asked if they were all as big as mine.
I took advantage to her ignorance by telling her that I possessed a particularly large one, but assured her that I would take her maidenhood gently.
She confided, a little embarrassed, that after many years of horse riding, I didn’t need worry on that account.
So I shuffled between her thighs with confidence and consummated our marriage energetically, missionary style, as I had been taught. Pounding away, filling her with my spunk and hoping to plant my seed within her womb.
Once the required deed was done, Caroline took hold of my flaccid member. She squeezed and rubbed a little. It stirred, regaining some of its rigidity.
“Does that feel nice?” she asked.
“Oh yes.” I assured her.
“Good,” she paused, taking my hand, “You know it feels nice when you touch me here too?”
She placed my hand on her cunt, guiding my fingers and encouraging me to explore the warm wet slit and folds.
It was obvious that she could teach me more about the bedroom arts than Burgoyne ever had – even my gamekeeper seemed to know more than he did, so l followed her lead.
She seemed to be enjoying my pawing at her pussy, starting to sigh a little, like she had when I saw her with Meghan.
“Touch the button.” She gasped.
I moved my fingers up her navel.
“No, not my belly button Charles!”
She shifted me to her clit.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t….”
“That’s okay, I’ll show you what to do.”
I followed her instructions precisely, she writhed and moaned, in encouragement before asking me to slip my fingers inside her.
She was very wet and they went in with ease. Everything was smooth and slippery, exciting and forbidden, but Caroline wanted me to touch a special place, a rough spot, behind her button.
It wasn’t easy to find it, but when I did, she loved it, urging me to work at it while she rubbed at her clit.
We went on for ages.
I was amazed by her stamina because she was puffing and panting away like fury, but eventually she cried out, her body went stiff and then trembled around my hand.
I supposed that he must have had an orgasm, but didn’t ask.
I didn’t want to look foolish.
The night wasn’t done.
We had a task to achieve and we needed to shag again.
Caroline suggested we tried to “horsey style” and bent onto all fours inviting me to penetrate her from behind like a stallion.
I took a moment to stroke her bum. Soft, smooth and enticing. She “ouched” a little when I slapped it, but didn’t seem to mind.
My cock was rock hard after all our games so it was ready for action when I prodded my bride between her buttocks.
“No no. Not there. The other hole. Where you went before.”
It was all new to me.
I never even thought that it was possible, but there it was – an eager little slit, winking at me between her thighs and inviting me in.
It welcomed me like an old friend, yielding to accept my length and girth, hugging me tightly, massaging my every inch and contour.
I could tell that Caroline liked it better this way.
Gasping and panting, once more, she told me I “was hitting the spot”, whatever that meant.
And she shrieked with surprise when I reached around to her grab her tits, enjoying their delights and gaining extra leverage as I thrust harder and harder into her body.
We rutted wantonly, like wild beasts until neither of us could take any more. Caroline hit her peak, clinching my cock and triggering bolts of precious, baby making, sperm in search of their vital target.
———————–
After a sound night’s sleep I was awakened by my wife’s mouth lapping at my morning wood.
She wasn’t as skilled as Lainey, but, “well” there’s no such thing as a bad blow job, is there!
I told her I was about to come, but she pulled her head away, “No! Not in my mouth.” she told me.
“Why not? I don’t think it tastes that bad. You might even like it!.”
“That’s not the point is it,” she giggled, shaking her head. “You’re supposed it be getting me pregnant, aren’t you? Not just having a good time!”
She straddled me, lowering herself carefully and guiding my cock into her cunt. “That’s where it needs to be!” she grinned.
It felt brilliant.
Just lying there, doing nothing, while Caroline gyrated above me, doing all the work, fucking me like I never knew a woman could.
I was overwhelmed with new sensations. My entire being now focussed on those pulsing inches of my manhood lodged inside her.
And the view was marvellous too – beautiful, hard nippled breasts bouncing freely before my eyes. Soft and yielding, firm and sexy, perfect handfuls of femininity offered up for my grasp.
I would have happily stayed there for ever but, in truth, I couldn’t hold out for long. I was only a teenager, after all and the Lady got what she wanted (again) as I shot my morning load deep inside her.
I knew we couldn’t spend all day in bed, but there was one more thing that I still wanted to do before we rose.
I recalled that Peters had said women liked to get licked “down there” and l had seen the effect Meghan had had on her Mistress when she did it for her.
I wanted to make her feel like that too.
It was only fair.
Caroline told me how.
I must admit that it wasn’t my favourite thing. It was a bit demeaning for an Earl to behave like that and I didn’t really care for the taste. However, I couldn’t help but take pride in my achievement when, after licking her to the very edge of her endurance, I latched my lips onto her button and sucked her to a writhing, squirming, squealing climax.
‐———————–
It was mid morning when the four of us boarded our horse drawn landau carriage and set off on our journey towards my Scottish estate to commence our honeymoon.
There was little conversation in the carriage, as both Lainey and Meghan knew it “wasn’t a servant’s place” to speak in front of their employers and Caroline and I had little that we wished to discuss in front of them either.
I merely offered a running commentary on some of the more interesting landmarks that passed by our window, as we departed Roddingham and its environs.
Once we had travelled a suitable distance and were in open country, I ended my observations and drew down the blinds on the windows.
Caroline and I exchanged a glance, she nodded and smiled, then addressed her ladies in waiting, sitting opposite us.
“On your knees, girls.”
They both hesitated for a moment, before understanding their mistress’s intention and hiking up their skirts to save them from becoming soiled as they knelt, beside one another in the well of the carriage.
Caroline lifted her skirts too and Meghan went straight to work, diving beneath them and using her skilled tongue to take her to climactic convulsions.
I looked Lainey in the eye, gave her a wink and said simply, “You know what to do.”
And she did – quickly removing my britches and getting my cock into her mouth.
She was so pleased and surprised to be doing it with me again. She went for it with added enthusiasm and her oral skills were as excellent as ever, but they were enhanced even more by the rocking and jerking motions of the carriage adding an extra piquancy to my pleasure.
The girls continued to service us expertly until we neared our journey’s end, when carriage driver gave me the signal that we were nearing the Dunrodd Estate.
We quickly restored our clothes and smartened ourselves up so I might present my new wife to our Scottish household.
We were welcomed with fawning courtesy, excellent service, and the fine food and wine, that befitted our position.
When it was time for us to retire I introduced the ladies to my luxourious suite of rooms, including two adjoining bed chambers.
Caroline and Meghan would share one – free to enjoy their sapphic trysts, whilst Lainey and I would share the other, and I would make good use of all the new skills and techniques that my wife had taught me.
Lainey was delighted and amazed to discover that sex wasn’t always “missionary”.
And that was how it was for the rest of our lives.
By day, Lady Caroline and I would be a devoted couple, performing our noble duties and fulfilling our lofty positions in society.
By night, we would both share our beds with our true loves.
My wife and I would rarely make love to one another again, save for a handful of special, frenzied, alcohol fueled evenings when all four of us would share the same bed!
Caroline did give me the heir that she had promised, though. He was conceived on our wedding night and born at Roddingham, we called him Rodney, like many generations of my male ancestors.
I would father two more children.
They were both born in Scotland, at Dunrodd, away from prying eyes and amongst servants who I knew would be discreet – they had never breathed a word about my father’s many affairs.
We Christened them Helen and Peter, in honour of their mother.
As far as the rest of the world knew all three of the children were Caroline’s and we were happy maintain that deceit, cherishing each of them equally.
Lainey, meanwhile, became the new “Nanny Peters”, taking loving care of them all. Her parents continued to live in the Gamekeeper’s Cottage and they watched with secret pride as their young grandchildren grew up to enjoy a life of luxury, wealth and privilege.
Peters continued to protect my grounds from poachers for many years, whilst the original “Nanny Peters” was a regular visitor to the nursery, with a sly smile and a twinkle in her eye – it was as though she had planned the whole thing….
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