My Rake's Progress - Chapter 18

A Rake is a Rake, through and through, but, as a gentleman he can just enter anywhere in society and be accepted, and the Regency Rake can be even more well hidden by his clothing, manners, his money and especially his title.  Let's see how that Rake is getting on in Chapter 18 of 

My Rake’s Progress 

Written by

Miss Louisa Ayling.

The New Year of 1811 has blossomed with her mother's insistence they move to London for the London Season, especially as Horatia is now engaged to Captain Sherrington, and her father is also pleased to return to his mistress's bed, but was not expecting his wife to follow him!

Horatia discovers Matthias has returned to London too, after being constantly away, but for what reason. All is a little mysterious, especially when he indicates he's off to the coast, hardly the time of year for a seaside holiday?

Can Horatia really crush her feelings for Matthias, will he be too tempting, even when he no longer asks her for his one Waltz?

Can Matthias soothe his lust and wanting of Horatia in his bed, buried into her feminine softness, with other willing women?

Let's see what happens next!

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

A rake is a rake, through and through, but, as a gentleman, he can just enter anywhere in society and be accepted, and the Regency rake can be even more well hidden by his clothing, manners, his money, and especially his title. Let's see how that rake is getting on in chapter 18 of My Rake's Progress. Written by Miss Louisa Ailing. The new year of 1811 has blossomed with her mother's insistence they move to London for the London season, especially as Horatia is now engaged to Captain Sherrington, and her father is also pleased to return to his mistress's bed, but was not expecting his wife to follow him. Horatia discovers Matthias has returned to London too, after being constantly away, but for what reason? All is a little mysterious, especially when he indicates he's off to the coast, hardly the time of year for a seaside holiday. Can Horatia really crush her feelings for Matthias? Will he be too tempting, even when he no longer asked her for his one waltz? Can Matthias soothe his lust and wanting of Horatia and his bed, buried into her feminine softness, with other willing women? Let's see what happens next. April 2011. The London season. Wandering around the edge of the ballroom at Cavendish House, looking for a place to stand away from the throng. The violins crescendoed at the end of a quadrille, where the brightly shimmering silks and satins glinting with diamonds, swirled to a stop to be bowed to and escorted from the floor by their elegant partners, dressed in their dark-colored tailcoats with snowy white starched shirts and cravats, with their, either elegantly tasteful or garishly colourful, waistcoats. Horatia had hoped that a few of her friends may have been present, but it was still early and there were a couple of balls and a soiree that evening. This was just one evening now that the season was in full swing. Glancing around, there was no one she wanted to be recognized by. So she slowly sipped her lemonade, standing near her mother over with the matrons and dowagers, she was sitting next to the Dowager Duchess of Brambletie and the Duchess of Brambletie, great-aunt and mother of Lord Matthias Templeton and Dowager Countess Matilda Sherrington, Captain Sherrington's mother, on her other side. They were discussing the behavior of the Prince Regent, who had been officially declared and sworn in earlier in February, so Horatia made herself discreetly wander around the room. Horatia tried not to think about Temple and his rakish ways, and wondered what he was doing, but tried to concentrate on Justin instead. Just thinking of him made a little tremble run through her. Horatia. I'm so pleased to see you. It seems such an age since we last spoke. Melissa. They took each other's hands, then kissed cheeks. You are looking well. I have had some excellent news. Do you remember Sir Harvey Trench? Yes, I do. I liked him. So tell me, what's your news? He's asked my father for permission to court me officially. And, you wish for him to court you? You like him? Horatia asked. Oh yes, he is a very good sort of man, in fact, the best man I've ever met, and he will make a wonderful husband and father. He's not too high in the instep, I am so comfortable in his company. But, what about your news, Horatia? I heard that Bath was a great success. Horatia slipped off her glove encasing her left hand to reveal her beautiful diamond and sapphire engagement ring. How beautiful! I'm so pleased for you. When will I get to meet this paragon who has won your heart? Sadly, not until after Christmas, in the new year. Why is that? He's a handsome captain in his red officer's uniform, but unfortunately now out in the peninsula. He will be returning to England in about seven months. We have plans to marry next April, giving us time to reacquaint ourselves and for Justin, Captain Sherrington, to acclimatize from the stress of the war. Sherrington? I know that name. Melissa frowned in thought for a moment. Is he a relation of the Earl of Ashburton? Yes, that's his father. He's the second son. His elder brother is the heir. I remember now, Jasper Sherrington. I met him at Lady Somerville's ball a few years ago. A tall blonde gentleman, who said his brother was in India. Melissa Gaze studied the guests around the room. Now that's interesting, Temple's back in town. He's been spending much more time away from the usual entertainments. Back to his rakish ways, no doubt. No, I think not, from the things that Sir Harvey has said. Something linked to the government, I believe he implied. How strange? I would believe it more if you'd said he had been with his latest ladybird. Melissa giggled at Horatia's comment. I'm not sure he has time for his philandering ways these days, but must say that Sir Harvey is very tight-lipped on the subject. A rake is always a rake, Melissa. Do you think they're both up to something in the government? If they are, I do hope they're keeping safe, whatever they are involved in. Don't look now, Temple's heading this way. So is Sir Harvey, Melissa turned her head in the direction that Horatia was looking at, and her face lit up. Ladies, what a delightful surprise. Miss Thorne, Miss Stanweek. He bowed. I fervently hope you both have saved me a dance this evening. Which was Sir Harvey's cheerful greeting, Matthias's had a much more subdued approach, as his silver blue eyes raked thoroughly over Horatia, making her blush a little at his intense scrutiny. My lord. Sir Trench. Horatia curtsied a greeting. Miss Stanweek. Matthias bowed curtly. Miss Thorne, good to see you again. And I, you, Lord Templeton. How do you fare, my lord? I am well, thank you. Busy, as usual. This is a luxury, I'm afraid. My time does not appear to be my own, these days, Miss Thorne. His eyes briefly glanced in Horatia's direction looking for a reaction, but instantly returned to Melissa. Yes, I believe Sir Harvey mentioned that you had both been busy, but we must not speak of such things when this is your time to relax, enjoying company and entertainment away from your desk. Horatia was watching for reactions on the faces of the two gentlemen, to see what they were hiding, but neither gave any hint of what they had been doing. Are you long in London or is this just a short visit, Lord Templeton? Horatia asked to break the silence. Matthias looked directly into her eyes, his face expressionless, whilst his loins felt heavy and his black silk pantaloons tight. No, I will be going to the coast for a while. Not the usual time for a seaside holiday, my lord. No. He paused, no, it is not, Miss Stanweek. Business cools. I have to meet A. R. a friend there, nothing more, but it takes me out of town. Oh. I see. Horatia contemplating who the friend was, male or female? I hear that congratulations are in order, Miss Stanweek. Matthias searched her eyes, like he was searching her soul for the answer. Why could she not wait for him, he was unsure whether she was being pushed into it by her scheming mother? He wondered. Why? Thank you, Lord Templeton. Horatia looked down at her hands, she could not continue to meet his eyes, when she saw a flash of something that he had quickly hidden. She was not sure what that sudden look was, but his eyes suddenly shuttered. Was it pain she saw, or just her wistful imagination? That was the first evening that he had not asked Horatia to partner him in a waltz, that had never happened before, even Melissa noticed, and she did feel a little hurt by his obvious snub. Then, later in the evening he danced with Mrs. Esmeralda Fortune, a notorious widow with voluptuous endowments and a reputation for collecting lovers, like other ladies collect fans. They left together not long afterwards, and that just confirmed Horatia's original speculation. She knew that the season was going to feel a long one, and time would feel even longer until Justin was to return, with a long, slow summer and autumn to be spent at Stanwyck Hall. Horatia was feeling very unsettled. May 1811. Templeton House. Two weeks after the Lady Cavendish's bull found Sir Harvey climbing the steps at Templeton House as the door was swiftly swung open by Temple's old butler before he'd even reached for the brass knocker. His lordship is in the study, as usual, Sir Harvey. Thank you, Tomlin, I'll know where it is. I should think so by now, sir. The old retainer said with a laugh, making Sir Harvey's face break into a wide grin, as he handed him his hat and gloves, before he strode down the hall into the large booklined study. He leaned against the door frame to take in the scene before him of his good friend head down, scribing with a white plumed quill. Good morning, Temple, how's it progressing? Good morning, Harvey, apologies for not standing on ceremony. Help yourself to coffee, it is fresh. Sir Harvey poured from a large silver coffee pot that stood on top of a samovar, kept warm with burning wood. It had been brought back by Matthias's grandfather on a visit to the borders of Turkey on his grand tour. It's going rather well. The Major is constantly sending missives over, keeping me informed of differing and changing formats for the codes the Major had discovered. Others he had copied for me, as he had been unable to decipher them at the time of dispatch. Are these the ones you finished? They're definitely keeping you busy. Sir Harvey looked at the large pile of parchments on the corner of his desk. It's gone a bit quiet for me at present, but I can't complain. Yes, they are, I have to make a visit to Whitehall later, before moving on to Whites with you. Is that before or after the charms of Ezzie? Before, but I need to make the most of my visit, as I will be leaving for Portugal again in two days, and I do not know how long I will be gone this time. By the way, did you get the opportunity to look into Sherrington? Yes, as promised. It appears that everything seems to be in order, no skeletons, although there may be some things well hidden. Shall I keep digging? Yes, if you would. Sir Harvey agreed and sipped his coffee until Temple was ready to leave for Whitehall then onto a relaxing evening in their club, before leading onto the more sexual delights later. December 2011 London bound. Many months later, Matthias found himself once again rocking and rattling about in his luxurious black lacquered barouche, on his return journey from Portugal, THR visit being uneventful, not like the three previous times that year. The transport ship missed the storm by a day which Matthias was grateful for. This last time it was nearly three weeks, he'd had to remain, and too close to the front line for his comfort. Luckily he did not get shot, although it was close, the soldier nearby was not so lucky. He sighed as his carriage made its way into the outskirts of London. He enjoyed this new exercise, it kept him occupied, but he was still perturbed by his peehen becoming engaged. He had tried to avoid her during the last season as much as possible. He could not bear the thoughts of her in another man's arms. He still could not believe that she had not realized that she was his, that she was meant for him and him alone. That she would be there for him when he wanted to get married. Most of the gentlemen knew this, the ones that frequented the London season, that is, but he had not considered her mother taking her to Bath for the autumn season. He'd found out that was where she had met her fiance. He still lusted after her, it was driving him insane, that constantly needed an outlet, drawing him back into the various clubs and brothels, together with his seven-day mistresses. That seven-day rule kept them from becoming attached, and not expecting more from him than he was willing to give. That being his attention and his cock, just for up to seven days, and no longer, even if that was spread over more days, it was only seven individual times. Yes, he had a reputation, but he did not care, but with his pee hen being attached to another, he now felt completely aimless, adrift, with no final destination in sight. Just sex and code breaking. The coach suddenly stopped, jolting him out of his reverie. Looking out of the window, he realized it was only mid-afternoon and he had at last reached his Brook Street townhouse. The door of his comfortable carriage opened, and he was soon entering through the front door. Tomlin greeted him, informed him of visitors he had received, then showed him the two silver salvas that were stacked with a mix of correspondence, invitations and calling cards. Good to see you home safe, my lord. Thank you, Tomlin. He responded with a smile at his ramrod-backed butler, whilst he handed him his beaver, gloves and cane, then marched down to his study laden with his portable writing desk and his valise, with Tomlin walking swiftly behind with the two selvers, after carefully placing his master's items on the chair. Thank you, Tomlin. Place them on my desk. Would you organize a small luncheon and some coffee, please? Of course, my lord. Matthias removed his multicaped greatcoat, and draped it over a small sofa, then sat at his desk and started to go through the correspondence first. Several invitations which he discarded as the event were past, then a few more that he would not attend. A letter from his mother inviting him for Christmas, then one from his friend Sir Harvey, tells him of his good news, telling him of his plans to ask Miss Thorne to marry him in the Christmas season. So, now he was tired, as he had invited Matthias to the Christmas celebration. He sat in thought, tapping Sir Harvey's letter on his chin, as the door opened to admit Tomlin and a maid bringing in a tray and a coffee pot. Placing Sir Harvey's letter down, looking through the salva, he then found a letter from at Whitehall, he immediately broke the seal with no hesitation, maybe they were sending him away again and he would not have to make a decision, so it might be outside his purview to not attend either one. His eyes slid over the velum, quickly scanning and digesting its contents. He read it again, then again. His eyebrows rose in complete surprise, well almost shock. Vathist wanted him permanently at the War Office, as it would make the process of deciphering of received or captured messages much quicker. He had not planned to be so involved, he was not employed, he volunteered. He now had to decide whether he wanted this. He had to think deeply, not make a decision on impulse. He needed all the facts to make an informed decision, that he would not gain however many times he read the letter, but that would mean going to see Bathurst. After consuming his repast, he emptied his coffee cup, stood, his decision made, best to act quickly and get this over and done with. He left his study, after slipping on his greatcoat, strode resolutely into the hallway to retrieve his beaver, gloves and cane. Descending the steps from his front door, instructing his footman to hail a hackney carriage, then made his way to Whitehall, when all he really wanted to do was have a bath, ready himself to go to White's, then be entertained for the evening by Miss Lydia Bushel, a courtesan of deliciously delightful talents to quench this hungry need that he had tearing him apart inside, to help him to forget her, now that she was no longer obtainable, which was more difficult than he ever thought possible. Entering the main entrance, he reached the soldiers on guard who checked his calling card, and was soon escorted back up to the office he had been to before on numerous occasions. Bathurst was expecting him, so he was swiftly ushered into his office. The facts were gleaned and Matthias informed him that he would have his decision in a couple of days. So, he returned home, bathed, dressed, leaving for his club he keenly looking forward to the evening ahead, which he hoped would give him the relief he needed, followed by a restful, dreamless sleep afterwards.