My Rake's Progress - Chapter 27

Life and love never runs smoothly for any of us, and that is the same whichever century we live in.  1816 is no different, and pleasure-seekers were no different then than they are in the present day, and the Regency Rake is the leader of the pack.

So, when the naughty boys decide it’s time to marry, they think that their charm and prestigious position in society means that they believe that all young ladies will fall at their feet. Well, not all succumb so easily, as our Regency Rake will discover in

My Rake’s Progress 

Written by Miss Louisa Ayling.

As the London Season of 1816 continues, Horaitia has two beaux trying to attract her attention.

With Horatia’s friend, Clarisse, still waiting for that  marriage proposal, but we know it is imminent.

The  Barnaby ball is a ‘crush’ and everyone wants to meet the Viscount Bembridge as he is a rarity at these Ton events, and everyone wonders why he is in attendance, but things do not go to plan and he ends up in another woman’s boudoir.

What will Chapter 27 reveal?

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Life and love never run smoothly for any of us, and that is the same whichever century we live in. 1816 is no different, and pleasure seekers were no different then than they are in the present day, and the Regency Rake is the leader of the pack. So, when the naughty boys decide it's time to marry, they think that their charm and prestigious position in society means that they believe that all young ladies will fall at their feet. Well, not all succumb so easily, as our Regency Rake will discover in My Rake's Progress. Written by Miss Louisa Ailing. As the London season of 1816 continues, Hoatia has two bows trying to attract her attention. With Horatia's friend, Clarice, still waiting for that marriage proposal, but we know it is imminent. The Barnaby Ball is a crush and everyone wants to meet the Viscount Bembridge as he is a rarity at these ton events, and everyone wonders why he is in attendance, but things do not go to plan and he ends up in another woman's boudoir. What will chapter 27 reveal? April 1816. The Barnaby Ball. Horatia decided to spend a few days by her mother's side, so her suitors were not best pleased, but she felt they needed to miss her, and she decided that the Barnaby Ball on the Friday would be when she would return to society, as her mother was insistent that she needed to be available. Peggy stood behind Horatia, who sat on the dressing tap stool as Peggy finished dressing her hair. That's it, Miss, would you like the pearls or the emeralds tonight? I think the pearls will sit nice with this neckline. Horatia answered, twisting her head to inspect her hairstyle. Peggy, you've got this perfect. Very neat, and so very pretty. Thank you, I've been practicing, miss. We could put those tiny pearl pins in your hair, that will make it look even prettier. Afterwards, Horatia took one more glance in the mirror, picked up her gloves and reticule, and left to descend, but went to pass her mother's rooms but decided just to look in so she knew that her daughter looked passable to be paraded in front of the ton. With Lady Stanwyek's approval, she quickly skipped down the stairs to collect her cloak and be out of the door, down the steps, then into her awaiting carriage, she would be collecting Clarisse on the way. They were soon entering the ballroom at the Barnaby residence. It was already a squeeze, so Clarisse took a glass of champagne from a passing footman handing it to Horatia, then took one for herself. Well, there seems to be the usual crowd that I can see from here, but none of our bows are present yet, Horatia. Clarice stated as she took a sip of her champagne. Then she spied a tall, thin-figured boy striding across the ballroom floor heading in their direction. Don't look now, but Barnaby's youngest son is coming this way. Not Henry, the spotty youth just down from Cambridge. I'm afraid so. Oh, no. He's just seen you. A swift retreat? Too late. Lady Pembroke, Miss Stanweek. Good evening. A pleasure to see you both again. The ladies broke into a society smile, his eyes kept flicking to Horatia's decollette, making her feel a little uncomfortable. Please would you allow me to show you the dining area, Miss Stanweek? There's something of great import that I need to tell you, which you would not wish to be overheard by others. He stated quietly, he looked at her expression as she glanced at Clarice, then begrudgingly continued with, Your friend can come too. They acquiesced, then walked with him around the perimeter of the ballroom towards a corridor which led down the hall to the room on the eastern side. We have privacy here. He closed the door, then turned to their expectant expressions. Temple, Lord Matthias Templeton is whom I refer to, the Temple of Love. I am not sure if you are aware that he has been offered a bet. It is in White's betting book, I've seen it myself. It is that he will seduce a young lady known as the P. Hen or HMS, that is you, I believe. I know no other lady with those initials, Miss Stanweek. Horatia's look of horror had Clarice guiding her to sit down on the sofa. Are you sure about this, Mr. Barnaby, or has Lord Biddiford put you up to this? Although Barnaby blushed, it was with indignation. Lady Pembroke, I am affronted. I would never participate in another man's downfall orchestrated by a rival for this lovely lady's virtue. I hope it is more than my friend's virtue that they require, Clarice queried. I am sure it is, but it is not good for Miss Stanweek's reputation, having two gentlemen placing bets at White's. That's the one I am aware of. Was the bet actually placed between them or someone else? Horatia asked. I am not sure, Miss Stanwyck. Well, we can accuse either or neither, unless we know the particulars, Mr. Barnaby, I will not act on rumor alone, sir. Horatio stood, straightened her skirts, and started to walk towards the door. Barnaby rushed to open it for her to exit as she proceeded just as a queen would, head held high with a controlled majestic step with Clarice following quickly beside her. Once out of earshot, the two ladies found a deserted alcove where they looked around and then sat. Well, of all the nerve. Horatia smoldered. My thoughts exactly. That silly boy being pulled into it so easily. There is obviously a mistake. I believe you forget, Clarice. There was a bet at my come out, when I wore that hideous dress at my first ball. It was Temple who danced with me for that bet. One that I have not yet forgiven him for. I can understand your unease then, Horatia, it had slipped my mind it was Temple who was the cause of your dismay, Horatia. So, what are we going to do? I will refuse to dance with him, if he arrives. He's probably got a different form of entertainment planned for this evening, as the company here would be far too tame for a rake like him. Well, Horatia, you may have to eat your words. He's just arrived. I can see the main door from where I am sitting, plus he's just been followed in by his rival for your attention. How frustrating. I was hoping for a quiet evening, a few dances, and then go home early. That's definitely not going to happen now. You shouldn't complain, at least this year you have piqued interest in two very eligible gentlemen. Yes, very eligible, especially one being a fully fledged rake, and the other probably has a mistress which he would keep after he marries. Horatia sighed. But my mother wants me married by the end of this season, or at least engaged. Well, you've got the choice of two very eligible suitors, and I think that I do like Lord Desmond, he's been very kind and considerate, Horatia, I just hope that he is seriously thinking of marriage. Well, I am really sure he is. My mother thought it was me that he was interested in, but it didn't take me long to see where his attention lay. I think he would be perfect for you, and here he is. He stopped to talk to Temple. Now they are both heading this way. Now I'm nervous for some reason. Take a few deep breaths, Clarice, that's it. A few more, and that should do it. You're looking beautiful in that colour, you'll definitely fall in love with you just the way you look tonight. Horatia encouraged her friend, who smiled at her and squeezed her hand as she stood. Lady Pembroke, what a pleasure to see you again. Miss Stanweek, good evening. Good evening, Lord Hycliffe. Horatia acknowledged, then she glanced at Matthias. Good evening, Miss Stanweek. You look very handsome this evening, not that you do not usually look handsome, I need to say. Thank you, my lord. Horatia replied, but I am not sure I can take your words seriously, my lord, being those from a confirmed rake. She turned her body slightly away from him, a little dismissively. He thought that maybe he'd approached that greeting completely the wrong way. Miss Danweek, please may I request the supper waltz with you. She swung to face him, took a deep breath. Under the circumstances that I have only been made aware of this evening, I will have to decline your kind offer, my lord. My reputation has been sold enough by rakes of your ilk, without you adding to it. I am very displeased, and wish you would not importune me any further. Good evening, my lord. So, that's how Matthias was dismissed. He was bemused to know the cause. He had noted her rigid posture, she was definitely angry, and it appeared to be something linked to him. It was not long after that Horatia noticed that Matthias was leaving. He stopped, glanced her way, and gave a slight bow of his head, she quickly looked away, turning to watch Cherise enjoying a slow waltz with Sir Desmond. Why did she feel suddenly bereft? She had lost interest in her evening, even with Bidiford taking advantage of Matthias's absence, as he stuck to her side the rest of the evening. She was no longer in the mood for gaiety, she kept drifting off into thoughts, missing the conversation. Biddiford must realize she was distracted. Then she heard the words whites and bets, and a masculine laugh. Please, my lord, could you repeat what you have just said about a bet? I apologize, I was wool gathering. Of course, my dear, you do seem, how can I put it, a little distracted. I do not believe you have heard a word I have said all evening. He laughed lightly, and Sir Desmond laughed too. Yes, the vet. I was just enlightening Hycliffe here about Temple and the Vibet at White's. It appears that someone has tampered with the original bet, and is now suggesting seduction of a virgin spinster who's on the shelf. Biddifo explained. And was this unfortunate young woman mentioned, named? Clarisse asked. Sir Desmond cleared his throat in warning. Well, I'm afraid there is an indication to whom it might be. The worrying part is that it appears to be that another party has been dragged into the bed also, which is disturbing to say the least. Why is that, my lord? Clarisse asked. Well, it is rather a delicate matter, not one to be discussed in the middle of a crush, Lady Pembroke, where ears are peeping into everyone's conversation to spread delicious gossip. You know what these people are like. I'm surprised that Temple did not remain to give your friend some protection. Sir Desmond aimed his comment for Clarice's ears only. I do think both of their nerves are afraid at this point in time, neither are happy about the situation. Kemple may have looked outwards calm, but you only had to look a little closer and you could see that the pot was about to burst open and spew forth its revenge. Revenge? Yes. Revenge, Sir Desmond. I do not think that this will sit lightly with him as it is putting the Napoleon and another who seduced her maid, she does not need this additional issue to ruin her reputation. Lady in question in a precarious position in the marriage mart. Having already lost a fiancé, too. I understand perfectly, my dear. The strings of a waltz floated in the air. I believe that this is our waltz, my dear Clarisse. Clarice's eyes sparkled back at Sir Desmond as she blushed prettily. She replied breathily quietly. I do believe you are right, Desmond. She placed her hand on his arm and they were soon ready to start the dance and seemed to be solely focused on each other, as was noted by some of the onlookers. April 1816. Later that evening. Matthias replied, holding the towel just out of her reach. You are being a beast, Temple. How could you treat me in this way? Very easily, my dear, because I want your voluptuous body closer to me so that I can worship in the way it deserves. Lady Vibina slowly prowled towards him, swaying her hips suggestively as she moved. Temple! She gasped, as he grasped her wrist and pulled her down across his lap. Oh V, you have the most luscious ass, which needs my attention, darling. You need to be brought under hand, and my hand is itching to start immediately. Matthias caressed her soft pliable mounds, sculpting her figure with his hands, then unexpectedly he hand swiftly slapped her, her flesh rippling under the force, as she gasped loudly. He repeated it several times, then soothed the area with a caressing hand. That's a good start. Now part your legs a little more. She obeyed. No. More? Now that's better. His hand swiftly slapped her, now lower striking the top of her thighs and her woman's petals, the sting was a pain-pleasure sensation. He repeated his action several times, striking harder each time, does that feel good, V? She nodded her head. Tell me, V, does it feel good? Do you want it harder? Yes, Tample, good, but harder. Oh. Yes, harder. Harder, please. She almost screamed as she pleaded. Will you be a good girl next time, V? Do what I ask, with no complaint? Yes, Tample, I will. I promise. But don't stop yet, I think I disobeyed you very badly, so I need more. I do believe you do. I think my crop is in order. He reached down the side of the arm of his chair and retrieved his crop, and slid the tip of it up her inside thigh, very slowly, making her quiver, her hips jerked and he continued his journey up the other inner thigh. Then he circled the buttocks, then very lightly touched her moist petals, hardly touching, but he knew that it was enough to get V ready for what he had planned during this encounter. He flicked her nub with it several times, like and this was his seventh time with her, and this would be his last. His seven-day rule has its advantages, so onto pastures knew. But he did need to try to keep focused on his goal of winning over his pen hen, she is the only one who can fill this desperate need that he had in his soul. He continued to torment his victim, giving her some swift strikes, he made it harder and harder until she gave her mercy word, then he stopped, soothed her with his caresses, and he quickly had her astride him whilst he was still fully dressed with just his placket and small clothes open for his cock to be released, then to be relieved, well for a little while. But not fulfilled, just drained. April 1816. The next morning. Matthias climbed up his front steps, opened the door with his personal key, as he determined that his staff need not be troubled if he could enter without disturbing them. The entrance hall was buzzing with several of his staff, his butler, Tomlin, spotted his employer, and immediately turned in his direction. My lord. He bowed respectfully. I was just going to summon a footman to try and discover your location, my lord, you have a messenger, he is awaiting your return. He is in the staff kitchen at present. Thank you, Tomlin, direct him to my study, please. Matthias quickly strode towards the rear of the hall, swinging open the last door on the right hand side, he walked briskly across the royal blue orbison carpet and around to his seat behind my mahogany desk to await the messenger. He didn't have long to wait, looking up at the young man who now stood in the doorway waiting to be bade entrance by him. Ah. Perkins, I see it is you. It must be of some import if it is you that Hawkins has sent to see me. Matthias indicated for Perkins to come forward. Good day, my lord. He bowed politely. It's the Duke, my lord. He is very unwell, and it has been requested that you return to Brambletie at once, my lord. On whose suggestion, Perkin? Matthias inquired. Mr. Crawford, my lord. How long has my father been unwell? About two months, Mr. Crawford said to tell you. Well, the estate steward knows everything that's going on there. Matthias stated, then sat in thought, that the steward must sense that this may turn out as we least expected. It was not that long ago that he was in his father's company. Do you have any idea of what has occurred? What has my father contracted, Perkins? It appears to have been a hunting accident, my lord. What sort? Did he fall from Octavium? No, my lord, it was a shooting accident, I believe. He's been shot? Matthias's rage shook the rafters as he stood in anger. Why was I not informed before this? It should have been the moment it happened. Matthias banged on the desk in frustration. He stomped out of the door of his study, barked orders for a carriage to be prepared, then he returned to the study. Perkins, make sure your horse is tied to the carriage together with Arian, I just need to see my valet and get a valise packed. Both men left the study to complete their individual tasks before they met in the stables. Matthias with several valise, much to his valet, Stephen's dismay. Matthias had decided he did not need a valet, but if this was a prolonged stay, then he would be sent for. The carriage left the Meuse behind Templeton House before seven in the morning, and was well on its way before the elite of London were making their first appearances.