The Rake's Progress - Chapter 20

Could a Rake ever change?  Well, it has been known but most do not! Because he is usually accepted anywhere, he is often immune to the gossip and the criticisms of society, he is fawned over, and it is often taken as a coup for the hostess if he turns up at any of the entertainments she provides. The Regency Rake is often a handsome and virile gentleman, who is fashionable with money and a prestigious title, so you know that our Rake is no different in

My Rake’s Progress 

Written by Miss Louisa Ayling.

It is the start of the 1812 Season, Matthias has continued to attempt to forget Horatia, but he's found out that other women's beds are not the answer, He now believes that only Horatia can quench his thirst, but realises she out of reach and his life is just wandering day to day, and even with the salacious spiced up experiences of an expensive brothel he is not fulfilled.

Captain Sherrington, is injured again after the siege of Badajoz, but he is still longing to return to England to be with Horatia, so he can hold her, kiss her and marry her to make her his for eternity..

Horatia continues to gain much excitement in receiving letters from Justin, and is trying to enjoy the exhausting rigors of the London season with its nightly entertainments to attend to be seen as the future Mrs Sherrington, without him by her side.

When Matthias is forced to cross paths with Horatia by a well-meaning friend he realises the error of his ways as he cannot hide his feelings for her putting himself in a very vulnerable position. Can he just walk away this time, or will he just have to?

What will Chapter 20 reveal?

Transcript

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Could a rake ever change? Well, it has been known, but most do not. Because he is usually accepted anywhere, he is often immune to the gossip and the criticisms of society, he is fawned over, and it is often taken as a coup for the hostess if he turns up at any of the entertainments she provides. The Regency Rake is often a handsome and virile gentleman, who is fashionable with money and a prestigious title, so you know that our rake is no different. In My Rake's Progress. Written by Miss Louisa Ailing. It is the start of the 1812 season, Matthias has continued to attempt to forget Horatia, but he's found out that other women's beds are not the answer. He now believes that only Horatia can quench his thirst, but realizes she is out of reach and his life is just wandering day to day, and even with the salacious spiced-up experiences of an expensive brothel, he has not fulfilled. Captain Sherrington is injured again after the Siege of Badajos, but he is still longing to return to England to be with Horatia, so he can hold her, kiss her, and marry her to make her his for eternity. Horatia continues to gain much excitement in receiving letters from Justin, and is trying to enjoy the exhausting rigours of the London season with its nightly entertainments to attend to be seen as the future Mrs. Sherrington, without him by her side. When Matthias is forced to cross paths with Horatia by a well-meaning friend, he realises the error of his ways, as he cannot hide his feelings for her putting himself in a very vulnerable position. Can he just walk away this time, or will he just have to? What will chapter 20 reveal? March 1812. Trench House, London. Sir Harvey Trench sat at his large mahogany desk in his study, flipping through what seemed like a never-ending pile of paperwork. He had assisted the home office many times before, but this was in preparation with a meeting he was to attend. He was in a very good mood, and could not wait to get his work complete, as this afternoon he was taking his fiancé, Miss Melissa Thorne, for a drive in the park, then back to his house for afternoon tea, before returning her to her home. Just thinking about her, he sat back against the soft leather headdress of his chair, eyes closed with a wide smile touching lips and radiating across his face. Well, someone looks pretty damned pleased with himself. He looked up to the doorway to see his best friend standing there. I am. Miss Thorne is in town for the season, and I'm taking her for a drive this afternoon. That accounts for it. How about you? Anything to entertain you today, Temple? Not really. Board with the lovely Lydia already? Yes, I'm afraid I was weeks ago, and have moved on to Widow Trumpstone. But, mayhap I'll visit Wyndham this evening. He might have something to tempt me, but to be honest, the last time I went, that pretty blonde with those teasing tits was a complete disappointment. Oh, do you mean Busty Beatrice? Yes, I do. One shag, and that was enough. I like to spend my time with women, whether she is a lady or a whore. Once is never enough for me, usually, but she did not even entertain me enough to tempt me to remain for more than once. Yes, you're a greedy bastard at times, Temple, you have such a ravenous appetite. Mainly because I never feel fully fulfilled, there's something missing. It's been like that since the first day I found out what my cock was for. Not one woman has ever given me complete fulfillment, just release of my seed, nothing more. That's a tragedy, Temple, as you've had some beautiful women. By the way, talking of beautiful women, Matthias stated, trying to change the uncomfortable subject. Have you set a date for you being leg shackled yet? Yes, we've planned for the end of June. You will stand up with me, I hope? I plan to, but I will feel it is the end of an era. No more of our nights of debauchery together. Well, you never know, but I believe my dear Melissa will be able to fulfill my needs, as you say. You naughty boy, you've not? No, I have not, but we've had a little fun, shall we say? Now you are the naughty boy, seducing a young innocent. Well, it won't be the first time, and I know you've had your share, Temple, old man. By the way, how was your last trip to the continent? Quite eventful. On the return journey, I escorted a lady Deirdre Fenchcombe and her daughter, Miss Helena Fenchcombe, back to British shores. Her husband was a colonel in Wellington's forces, sadly lost at Ciudad Rodrigo in January. Now they were very entertaining. I suppose you kindly consoled the widow. Well, I found out that although the old colonel had taken her along as his wife, they were not married, and the daughter was not their daughter. They were both just friends of the colonel. He obviously had a good time on the continent. Apparently he shared them around with some of his officer friends, but they made for a much more pleasurable journey home. I bet they did, you lucky devil. Shame they're not on every journey. Especially when they chose to both join me and my cabin on several occasions, it made the hours pass quite swiftly. But, although it was fun, there was still something missing. By the way, any news about Mortimer? I've lost track of things. Well, there's been some talk that he embroiled in with several operatives who have been convinced that he's a British patriot, but there is one of our men involved who's kept an eye on things, but sadly some information about Wellington's latest siege plans for Badajos have been leaked. Hopefully they'll be too late to cause a problem. Let's hope you're right, after the disaster at Ciudad Rodrigo, it is not something we need. Well, I suppose I'd better leave you to get your work done. Matthias stood. Well, I hope you have a good evening, Temple, maybe you will come across that something missing. I will try Trench, but we must have a session at Angelo's again soon, and Manton's. Trench nodded in affirmative, and Matthias strode to the door. Have a good afternoon too, my friend. Matthias was soon descending the steps of Trench House, feeling a complete ennui. What did he have to look forward to? Nothing. His little pee hen had let him down by finding a better gentleman as a husband, she would not be interested in a whormonger like him, but he still craved her like no one he had ever met, he still wanted her, still wanted her in his bed. She was his obsession, and nothing else gave him that feeling when she was in the room, when she was in his arms for a waltz. He halted in his thoughts with his booted foot on the iron steps into his carriage, he was angry at her, angry at himself, he banged his elaborate silver-handled cane on the pavement. He was at a loss. He turned his head towards his coachman. Whites, Hargreaves. Matthias continued into the carriage, door slamming shut, and he was soon at his destination. Once in the club he surveyed the denizens present and discovered two friends who had obviously just arrived in town for the season. Lord Sebastian Creswell and Sir Dorian Ransom sat lounging near the front window of the reading room with a silver tray holding a decanter and two glasses, still untouched. Creswell looked up, then stood. Temple, how good to see you, old man. Good to see you both. Creswell, Ransom. Up for the season? Yes, Mother has insisted. The Dowager Duchess has made an ultimatum, that I get myself in the parson's mouse trap this year, and get the nursery filled up. Was Sebastian's reply. And you don't want the old bird giving you a hand, you need to find the gal you like the best yourself, Seb. And, Randy, don't tell me you are heading towards the same fate? Gosh. No thanks, Temple. My mother's not pushing at present, but if she hears that some of my friends are taking the noose, then she might. Dorian stated, Yes, Cresswell, you're doing us all a disservice if you can form. Especially don't let them provide you with a Smithfield bargain or a Westminster wedding. Matthias teased. All three laughed. Come, that's enough about my woes, let us share a drink whilst we decide our evening's entertainment. Cheers to that, agreed Matthias, as he took a sip from the glass of Scotch whiskey that the footman handed him. They sat discussing several topics such as Lord Wellington and continuing the peninsula wars, then onto the season's entertainments available and what they planned to do that evening. It was decided that the White House was the choice, and it was agreed that a bit of flagellation might spice up the experience, Matthias was not convinced but went with his friends anyway. Ninety minutes after arriving, Matthias was found leaving the establishment, he had participated with two young women, and found that tying them up to paddle them, then dominate them in several sexual positions, releasing his seed three times, but he left unfulfilled, yet again. He returned home, as disillusioned as he always was lately, spending the rest of his evening and his study sharing it with a couple of decanters of Scotch whiskey, with the light scattering the reflections of his crystal, as well as the whiskey helping to scatter his thoughts into nothingness. Badajos, Spain. After spending just over three weeks on the surrounding terrain around the fortress that was strategically positioned as a communication route into Spain, this was the third siege that had taken place here during the Peninsular War. Captain Justin Sherrington had been seated upon his strong black gelding, Thor, checking his men in the midst of the siege. There had been constant pounding from the engineers' heavy cannon fire for days rumbling and banging, trying to breach the city walls to give the British Allied troops the opportunity to advance into the fortress, the cannon fire now sporadically lit up the night sky. Several companies of troops had tried to fight their way into it, but had not yet succeeded with many men killed by the French mines laid within the walls and ramparts. Lieutenant General Wellesley, Earl of Wellington, had specifically requested that Captain Sherrington was to remain in Spain as he needed his participation, and had been removed to the 3rd Division, he had been sent to join the company to lead an attack on the lesser breach of the Citadel, and it had been successful. Many of the men were killed or wounded at the battle, their bodies laid strewn everywhere, being used by those still standing as a walkway for them to gain access to the fortifications to climb up to the city. Captain Sherrington. Captain Sherrington! Wake up, sir! The captain's eyes fluttered open to look up into the face of an earnest young lieutenant. Captain, sir, I need to get you moved back behind the lines. Nosey's orders, sir. Yes. Yes, I see. Have we done it, Lieutenant? Yes, sir. We sure have, sir, but we need to get you moved. Yes, good. Good. I'll just mount Thor. He tried to move, but he felt too weak to move, so fell back with a groan. I'll need help, I think, Lieutenant. Yes, sir. I have a few men here to give me a hand. Between them they lifted him up, as he groaned in agony, then slumped back semi-conscious. They managed to move him onto a makeshift stretcher, then carried him off of the battlefield, traversed over the other men who had fallen on the side of a large trench surrounding the base of the ramparts up to the city, taking him towards the medical tent. Once there they quickly removed his blood-soaked uniform, gravat and shirt, to ascertain the damage. He had two bullet wounds, one in his stomach and another in his chest. The army physician palpated his patient, looked at the blood loss and the wounds, the bullets gone through, so nothing lodged, just a lot of internal tissue damage. He checked his pulse and his breathing, which was unsteady and rasping. He looked at his colleague and shook his head. They patched him up as best they could, replacing his shirt and jacket and had him taken to the recovery tent, with some laudenum. Some of the female camp followers were attending the injured soldiers. Mrs. Mary Musgrove, wife of Corporal Musgrove, made Captain Sherrington comfortable, he gained consciousness while she bathed his face and gave him a few sips of water. Horatia, I'm sorry, my darling. He said groggily to the figure that leaned over him. I'm Mary Musgrove, Captain. She replied in her Irish accent. Is Horatia, Miss Stanweek, with you? I need to see her? I'm sorry, Captain, but she's not. Would you like me to help you write a letter to your darling girl? Would you? I send her one weekly, you know, but I need to write this one as I'm late. She's waiting for me to return. Lord Wellington was insistent that I stay, we would have been married by now if I had left after Ciudad Rodrigo. I'll just get a pen and paper, Captain. She quickly left and returned with a portable writing desk, and sat on a chair next to his cot. Mrs. Musgrove, together with another orderly, helped him to sit up a little more, although the pain surged through him, making him groan and bleed again. She placed the desk across his lap, and he started to write, a little unsteadily but legible, telling his dearest Horatia that he had been injured but would recover soon, God willing, and impatient for the day that he's back in England to see her beautiful face, and that they may have to delay the wedding until he is fully recovered. He told how much he missed, how much he loved her and could not wait to have her in his arms again. He signed off the letter and Mrs. Musgrove melted the wax to seal the letter using his signet ring to use his seal, he wrote the direction and Mrs. Musgrove took it away to be placed with the dispatch to be sent out through Lord Wellington's official mail to London. He slumped back down into unconsciousness. Stanwyek House. The season had been underway for a few weeks, and Horatia sat reading the latest letter from the captain and was smiling, as she knew that within a few weeks he would be home at last, even though he had been injured at Ciudad Rodrigo in January, he was now fully recovered, and had been involved in few minor skirmishes since. Her heart beat faster at the thought of seeing him again after all this time. Looking forward to his kisses, especially his cuddles and caresses. She folded up the letter and ran up to her bedroom to place it with the others in her memory box tied with its red ribbon. Tonight was the Cresswell soiree, and she was attending with Melissa and Sir Harvey, the family carriage was taking her to Trench House for dinner at eight, then onto the soiree. She was looking forward to having an evening without her mother, as she was going to the theatre with papa, which was unusual, but his friends had invited him and he could not take his mistress on this occasion. This soaree was the fifth evening this week she would be out on the town. This was her second week in London, and she was already feeling a little exhausted. In fact, she had not felt quite right for a few days, as if something was wrong, but she did not know what it was, and tried to dismiss it, as she didn't want to spoil other people's entertainment. She had had several dreams that included Justin and Temple, with Temple looking pleased but Justin fading away as if someone was dragging him towards the sky, fading out of her view. She would wake up crying out and perspiring. She did not understand the dreams, but they worried her. She tried to wipe them clean from her thoughts as she planned to have a nice evening with her friends, and she didn't want to spoil her time with Melissa. Once she had bathed, her mother's maid, Peggy, came and helped her with an apricot-colored fashionable gown with apricot kid slippers, and styled her hair in the Grecian style laced with apricot ribbon and a silver band on the forehead. So, she was soon ready and waiting in the drawing room for the trench carriage, as arranged. Horatia heard a commotion in the hallway, and then Heston appeared. Miss Stanweek, there's a gentleman here to see you, Lord Templeton. Oh dear. Horatia wondered why he was here. His tall frame could be seen behind Heston. Lord Templeton. She curtsied. What a surprise. She frowned. I was not expecting visitors, I'm afraid I am waiting for Sir Harvey's carriage. I found out that you were attending dinner with Sir Harvey, as was I, so I took the liberty to offer to escort you, if that is acceptable. I. Ah, I thank you, my lord. But Sir Harvey's carriage should be arriving soon. I'm afraid to say, but Sir Harvey knows of my intention, so I have come in its stead. Oh, then we should be on our way, but I need a maid for propriety's sake. My mother's in the carriage, so there is no need for an additional female companion, Miss Stanweek. He confirmed, and Horatia nodded her accent, and walked into the hall pulling on her gloves, and collected her cloak from Heston. Matthias helped her to position it over her shoulders and they reached the carriage. As they mounted the steps, Horatia was seated next to Lady Matilda Templeton, Matthias's mother, with Sir Dorian Ransom opposite. Matthias introduced them as he sat down opposite Horatia. A general chatter about the evening ahead ensued, but Horatia kept feeling deep sapphire eyes watching her every move, but Matthias hardly participated. Horatia decided that this was going to be a long evening and was most grateful when the carriage came to a halt outside of Trench House.