Prelude to a Scandal. Delilah Marvelle
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blinked. “What, then?”
He shook his dark head but still said nothing.
She stepped toward him, oddly compelled, not to mention genuinely concerned. “I should hope that if there is something that will affect our marriage, you would find the decency to tell me now. Before we marry.”
“I … yes. You are right in that. You deserve to know beforehand.” He nodded, as if struggling to comprehend his own thoughts. Taking in a deep breath, he let it out and blurted, “Forgive my own tongue for even saying it, but I am obsessed with sex. I think about it all the time.”
Justine pulled in her chin, startled by the admission, and laughed. “Forgive me, Bradford—and my father would agree with me on this—but what male of any species isn’t obsessed with it?”
“Justine—” He squeezed his eyes shut, as if wanting her to understand something he simply could not put into words, then eventually reopened them and said in a cool, low tone, “Allow me to better explain this. If I gave in to every lewd thought and every lewd urge that ever possessed me—the way I used to before I ended up with this face—in time you would only learn to despise me and my advances. And I don’t want that. I genuinely wish to lead a normal life by controlling all physical interactions to the best of my abilities.”
Her brows shot up. Why … he appeared to be forthright.
He swiped a hand over his face. “If you haven’t noticed, I have no female servants. It was necessary to eliminate any temptation that would have caused me to stray from the self-governed control I’ve adhered to these past eight months. As such, you will have no lady’s maid. I’ve already enlisted an excellent French man for you, who is trained in all matters of female dress and hair. I can assure you, Henri is far more female than any lady’s maid you’ll ever have. My hope is that despite him being male, he will exceed your expectations.”
Oh. Dear. God. Her lady’s maid was going to be a … man? Whilst she was to be the only female in the entire house? Were Bradford’s urges that uncontrollable?
Though, yes, she was looking forward to bedding him, she was somewhat concerned about what his definition of stamina really meant. Daily advances she could easily take on. But what if he meant hourly advances for the rest of her life?
Justine swallowed, trying to fend off the burning heat consuming her face. “Did you plan on disclosing any of this to me?”
“Yes. On our wedding night.”
“Lovely. Why do I not feel comforted by that admission?”
He stared her down. “Rest assured, Justine, I have never forced myself upon a woman and I would never force myself upon you. Your submission would be entirely voluntary.” He continued to intently hold her gaze. “Do you have any further concerns? Because now would be the time to name them.”
Justine wet her lips and wondered what under heaven and above hell she was about to agree to. But then again … the man was a rake. That was what rakes did. Obsess about copulation and women. Everyone in London knew that. And no one, not even all the upper prudes, seemed all that concerned, aside from the moral aspect of it.
She eyed him. “I suppose I wouldn’t be so concerned if I knew you weren’t going to demand hourly performances for the rest of my life. Or involve other women.”
“It is my duty and honor to alleviate those concerns.” He held up his right hand beside his head and set his left on his chest. “I solemnly swear to never demand hourly performances or involve other women in our lives.” He dropped his hands back into place. “There you are. You have no further concerns.”
Justine couldn’t help but stare at him. “Do you find yourself amusing?”
He pointed to himself. “Do I look amused? I am being quite serious. Now. I recommend we get you home.”
Without sparing her another glance, he strode over to the braided bell pull and yanked on it a number of times as if he were worried Jefferson wouldn’t respond. “If all goes well with your father’s release, as I am hoping it will, I expect to see you in church next week at the appointed time. I will see to it all of your wet clothes are laundered and returned before then. Jefferson will fetch those cloaks for you and personally see to it you arrive home. Good night.” He offered a curt nod, departed into the adjoining room and quietly closed the door, leaving her to wait for Jefferson alone.
She blinked. If only she wasn’t so hopelessly smitten with Bradford. If only she wasn’t smitten with Bradford at all. Oh, how she prayed and hoped to whatever God there was above he would keep all of the promises he had made to her tonight.
SCANDAL FOUR
A lady should always refrain from discussing vulgar topics. Not because it is crass, though indeed it is, but because once vulgarity is allowed, everything is allowed.
How to Avoid a Scandal, Author Unknown
SIX DAYS LATER, evening, and only twelve hours left before the wedding, which had been set after the surprisingly prompt release of her father from Marshalsea.
Justine found it rather annoying that her own mother, who was usually very calm and very poised in nature, was rudely pacing back and forth. Lady Marwood’s graying brown tresses quivered atop her head with every frantic step, turn and swish of her flower-patterned skirts. All the while, she gripped Justine’s red etiquette book How To Avoid A Scandal before her with both hands as if she were praying to it. Which her mother most likely was.
“Mother.” Justine patted the space beside her on the bed. “Sit. There is no need for you to be more nervous than the little lamb who is about to be slaughtered.”
Lady Marwood came to an abrupt halt and pointed the book at her with one hand. “I am not nervous. And you are hardly a lamb. I was merely thinking about how I should go about conducting this particular conversation.”
Regally lowering her arm and the book down to her side, Lady Marwood focused her hazel eyes on Justine from across the short distance separating them. “Bedding a man isn’t any more complicated than what you’ve witnessed in the wild.”
Justine couldn’t help but snort as she drew her robed knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her exposed ankles. “That doesn’t sound all that promising, Mother. Some mates maul each other during mating.”
Lady Marwood shook her head. “Bless your misguided heart, you always come up with something no one else ever thinks of.” She sighed. “Do you have any specific questions you wish for me to answer?”
Justine eyed her. “I only have one question. Would you say daily advances from one’s husband are to be expected?”
“Men are very, very lusty creatures. Especially in the beginning of marriage.”
Well. Thank goodness for that. Bradford had made himself sound so abnormal. “Will it be enjoyable? At all? Please tell me it will be. I cannot imagine—”
“Not the first few times, dear. After all, your body will require time to ease into it. He will be forcing a rather large part of himself into a very small space. Once your body is accustomed, then yes, it will be pleasurable.” Her mother paused. “If properly conducted, that is.”
Justine shifted uncomfortably on the bed and yanked her nightdress and robe down around her feet. “So it will hurt.”
Lady Marwood sighed. “Depending on how large his penis is, yes. It will.”
Justine crinkled her nose, remembering all too well what she’d seen on Bradford in its erect state. She only hoped her body eased into it quickly, because she preferred getting to the enjoyable part right away.
“Speaking of size,” Lady Marwood went on, “I should probably point out that it will double in length during every encounter. And though odd, it is in fact