The Lady Catherine - Sex Stories

The Lady Catherine

... raised her hand to my mouth, and kissed in gently. Just for a beat of the heart. Fashions are tiring, but necessary. She blushed as I released her hand, and gestured towards a seat. Our pleasantries tided us over until the tea arrived, and I dismissed the batman with “that will be all.” I waited until she had sipped her tea to begin my serious inquiries. “I must confess, the reason for your visit eludes me, Lady Catherine. Pray, would you enlighten me?” She blushed again. It was incongruent, on that oddly mature face, but somewhat fetching. “I came, Lord Richard, to talk about marriage.” I was practiced in politics, negotiations, threats and bluffs. It took all of that practice to keep my mouth from falling open. This was beyond bold, and I knew I should be taken aback, but I had to applaud her courage. Even if I had caught her eye somehow (which I doubted, as I had never even danced with her), emissaries were the preferred way. More proper, but also requiring far less bravery. It’s never easy to ask a question like that of someone, even if your motives are political. I gestured for her to continue. “My father wishes to marry me to his crony, Lord Percy…” And wasn’t that a nasty little bit of politics. Lady Catherine’s father did not share her grandfather’s (or my own) political sensibilities. Barred from a seat on the council while his father lived, he had to use cat’s-paws to accomplish his aims. But he was wealthy enough in his own right that he could, and Lord Percy was ...

... his favoured tool. Politics aside (as I had plenty a reason to detest Lord Percy for his politics), I had never liked the man. He was too weasel-like, too shifty, and too hard to nail down. While I admired his ability from an intellectual perspective, it left a sour taste in my mouth. The rumours about him weren’t much better: that he only enjoyed prostitutes if he hurt them during the act, that he had once left troops under his command to die. They were only rumours, but they spoke to his character. No one thought them implausible. I claim no sainthood. I have lain with those prostitutes, and I have led men to their death. But I have never struck a woman, and I have never asked those under my command to take a risk I myself would not take. That, perhaps as much as my sword, is why the soldiers respect me. So I could see why she would not wish to marry Lord Percy, but I could not see where I came in. “I have talked to him, and he scares me. He looms over me, and he leers. When I last danced with him, he gripped me too tightly the whole time, and told me that was just a small taste of what was to come when he was mine.” I hid a wince. That was entirely keeping with his character, although I wondered if she had thought to be grateful of her station. The whores who attracted Lord Percy’s attention probably fared much worse than she had. Not that I could talk much about gratitude for station. I had been born the first son in a high noble family. My life had doubtless been easier ...