Page 54 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
Still, no amount of money could convince Edward to work against his own interests in such a monumental fashion. It would be absurd to accept. There was also a small legal issue that could cause them both a world of trouble.
“Say, under the law these days, isn’t fucking your brother’s wife considered inc—”
“Aren’t you in the professional criminal conversation business?” asked Horatio. “I’m not sure the law would approve of that.”
He turned to Horatio to tell him to go to the devil with his offer when his brother’s voice rang out.
“Send in Calista.”
This was the first time he’d heard his sister-in-law’s , a flowery one for what was no doubt a well-dowered, sour little thing. The Stones had a habit of marrying with an eye to status and wealth first and warmth last.
Rather sooner than he expected, the soft patter of slippers on carpet announced Horatio’s wife. Edward studied a hunting scene on the wall, trying to determine if one of Tencendor’s grandparents was depicted amongst the suffering stags.
“Calista, meet my brother.”
Edward turned and beheld an angel come to earth. She had dark hair, the darkest he’d ever seen before, all twisted into some elaborate hairstyle, with one fat curl resting on her shoulder tempting him to pull it to see if she’d giggle.
She wore a Grecian dress, simple as the day was long, and it highlighted the architectural perfection of her form. A lovely neck, soft arms, and a pillowy bosom.
Below arched eyebrows, which were a shade lighter than her hair, were eyes of an almost clear blue. A strong nose that marked this woman as not merely pretty but handsome. And lips full and stained, as though she’d just come from eating berry confiture.
Would her cunny taste sweet like preserves served at breakfast? He wanted to find out, and his cock surged with interest.
This angel dropped into a graceful curtsy, and he was not so mannerly as to resist a glance down the front of her dress when he bowed in return. He’d never seen breasts like hers before, round and compact like something out of a Renaissance painting. His fingertips contained a strange energy as he imagined touching her nipples, likely the crowning glory of such perfection.
“It’s an honor to meet you at last, brother,” she said. Her voice was a series of high, tinkling notes, as if she were playing an instrument. It went straight to his sack, that orchestra composed of bells tickling his balls.
“The honor is all mine,” he replied. Gesù, did he sound winded?
“I take it you’ll accept my offer?” asked Horatio, cutting in with a splash of cold water on the conflagration in his loins.
“I want it in writing,” said Edward, not trusting Netherwallop for a minute.
Calista excused herself to see to guests who had just arrived for morning calls, gliding out of the room.
“I wonder if the money is even necessary,” said Horatio, clearly apprised of his wife’s impact.
“Money is always necessary,” Edward fired back. “I am still a Stone, after all. Is she aware of your scheme?”
“She knows.”
“And does she consent?”
“She has her own contracts with ink already dry.”
“Seems a bad business,” said Edward, looking out the door, hoping to get a glimpse of Calista again.
“And our marriage was any better?” asked Horatio. “I have it on good authority that she wanted nothing to do with me from the start.” Beautiful and sensible to boot? Calista was a rare goddess.
Edward scratched his signature on both copies of the agreement and then waited for his brother to countersign. Netherwallop took out a penknife and sharpened the nib, just to draw things out, the coxcomb.
“Bit awkward, me fucking your wife while you’re down here or at the club,” said Edward as he watched Horatio sign.
“Don’t worry about me,” said Horatio, a sly smile curling his lips. “I mean to take my mistress sailing to Brighton and return only when there’s news of the quickening.”
“Still The Morning Star?”
“Of course. I’m not such a spendthrift as to acquire a new yacht simply because it has seen some service.”
