Memoirs of Lady Montrose by Virginnia DeParte Page A

loud enough for Henry to hear, but sufficient for her to catch the phrase. Despite being thirty years her husband’s junior, theirs was a love match.
    At first their age difference had meant nothing, but of late the effects of Henry’s age had torn a hole in their lovemaking. Henry’s kindness and his concern for her physical needs were the foundations for the state of panic now coursing through her. She threw her silk wrap over the chaise longue, kicked off her evening shoes and climbed into bed beside him.
    “What is it?” He tossed his book aside, then reached and wrapped his arms around her to pull her close.
    “A man called me ‘Mrs Brown’ this evening. Someone from Brighton has come to London and recognised me. It can only mean trouble, Henry.”
    “Sshh. Quiet, darling. Let’s think this out.”
    She rested her head on his chest and stretched beside him. He moved aside the bodice of her low cut dress to stroke her breasts with a smooth caress, his hands no longer as strong as they had once been. With a soft touch, he wrapped his hand under the giving mass, cupping it, circling her nipple with his fingertips in a feather-light dance.
    “Did he say anything else?”
    “No, I turned around but several men were walking away from me, one a younger man. He had a thick mop of hair and his stride held an arrogance not seen in our circles. It could have been him, but even if I’d seen his face I wouldn’t have known who he was, Henry. You know I always wear a blindfold…so I can pretend it’s you.”
    “Sshh, darling. Don’t panic so.”
    Lady Helen listened to the steady, slow beat of Henry’s heart knowing his thought process could not be rushed.
    After a minute he said, “No doubt he’ll try to blackmail you.”
     She shuddered.
    “As and when he contacts you, we can arrange a meeting and I’ll be nearby. I’m sure we’ll be able to come to an arrangement. After all, surely that’s why he spoke to you, to prepare his approach.”
    “Oh God, Henry. I’m always so careful. It must’ve been pure chance that he’s mixing in the same company as we do.”
    “Perhaps he’s moved his services to London. Brighton may have palled and he wants to move up the ladder. It’s not in his interest to broadcast his previous means of employment. Discretion is the only means he can survive by, if he wishes to continue in his line of work.”
    Moments passed as Henry continued to stroke her breast and calm her pounding heart.
    “Did you meet anyone else? Anyone interesting? Who else was there tonight?”
    “Charlotte kept me company and that dreadful member of the lower house, Whitmore, snared us during interval. While my gaze was following the young man’s progress through the crowd, Whitmore came upon Charlotte, insisting that she make an introduction.”
    “Forget him, sweet. I’ll have lunch with him next week and satisfy his desire to be elevated in Society. He can then namedrop for a week or so.” Henry withdrew his hand and dropped a quick kiss on her aroused nipple.
    His desire shone in his faded blue eyes. “See if you can get a rise out of the old member tonight. I’ve been resting all day so we may be in luck.”
    With that she buried her head to his crotch and took his flaccid penis in her mouth, cupping her hands around his warm sacs. She worked. He sighed with delight, but with little physical response and after a time they admitted defeat.
    Helen slipped out of bed, changed into her silk nightgown, and returned to spoon her body into his, her mind going back over her last visit to Brighton.
    Lying beside Henry, listening to his deepening breaths, she thought of her last visit, recalled the pleasures, her mind dredging deep. She pictured herself spread-eagled once more on the spacious bed, her blindfold on, refreshed and ready to be amused and satisfied.
     
     

Chapter Two
     
     
     
    A few weeks previously
     
    Her visit had begun as all trips to Brighton did, with Henry ordering a taxi