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What the Lady Wants [Brazen Ladies]
by Vanessa Devereaux

Category: Erotica/Classic Erotica/Historical Fiction
Description: Marriage to Lord Davenport isn't want Fiona planned. While he has good social standing, her husband to be is impotent but when Fiona meets the dashing Henry Dalglish it seems things are about to turn in Fiona's favor. And when she offers him a deal he can't refuse, she gets exactly what she wants.
eBook Publisher: Cobblestone Press, 2011
eBookwise Release Date: August 2011


2 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [35 KB]
Words: 6853
Reading time: 19-27 min.

Chapter One

"Marry that man? I would rather die."

My father grabbed my arm in a vice-like grip before he spun me around to face him.

My elbow caught one of the tables, causing a bust of the Prince Regent to wobble.

"For once in your life you will do as you are told."

"You can't make me marry someone I don't want to. I hate the man."

"Fiona, how could you have formed such a strong opinion when you've only met him once?" said my mother, putting down the embroidery she was working on.

I looked from my father to my mother. They only had my best interests at heart, but the thought of spending the rest of my life with Lord Davenport? No, I couldn't do it.

"Fiona, your mother and I are getting on in years. We have very little money to leave you and wish to see you married before we depart this life."

I could see they'd both set their hearts on this union, so I had to buy some time.

"I will give it serious consideration, but if you don't mind, I think I need some fresh air. I'd like to walk in the garden."

"Fiona, it's already dark outside, and there's been a cold wind all day. Are you sure?"


"Take your wrap, then."

I headed through the conservatory, forgetting about my cloak because I just needed to get outside, where I could be alone, breathe the fresh air, and think about how I would get out of this predicament.

The wind bit into my face. I shivered and headed for my favorite spot in the garden, the gazebo. I sat down, running my hands up and down my arms, hoping to rid them of the gooseflesh that now pitted my skin. My parents' garden brought back so many happy memories for me: the rose garden with its fragrant scent, and the fishpond complete with a fountain I'd stand beside to make a wish. One had been to marry the man of my dreams. However, that seemed unlikely now. The wind blew through the gazebo, and I realized my mother had been right. I should have worn my cloak tonight. My parents were always right. Always knew what was best for me. They were not rich and wanted to see me well provided for, and my marrying a lord would ensure that. I could see that now. Guilt swept over me.

There is much my parents don't know about me. In their eyes, I am Fiona Northrup, naive virgin, but in reality I am far from innocent and lost my virginity over a year ago.

I was enjoying a stroll in Henrietta Park when I decided to sit on a bench and admire the spring flowers. A young man was sketching them a few feet away from me. At first we nodded a greeting and casually glanced at each other, both hoping the other one didn't notice. He was handsome, with sandy-colored hair, a fine physique, and tapered fingers as he sketched away.

He wanted to talk to me; I sensed it. And never being a wallflower, I decided to speak first.

"Your artwork is beautiful, even more so than the subject you're drawing."

"Thank you. It's something I've loved to do since I was a young boy."

Next thing I knew he was sitting on the bench, sketching me. His name was James.

"What do you think?" He turned the pad around to show me.

"I think you flatter me."

"You are more beautiful than any flower in this park...any woman here today."

I know I blushed. No man had ever spoken in such a delightful way about me.

"If it pleases you, I would like to meet with you and take a stroll along The Promenade."

My chaperone accompanied me on our first outing, but I sensed something physical happening between James and me. He kissed me without anyone seeing and whispered that he wanted us to be alone the following day.

The next day, I slipped out of the house without my parents' knowledge, headed to James' room above one of the local bakeries, and in his bed I lost my virginity. The first time was as I'd been warned, uncomfortable and slightly painful, but by the second time I felt had gone to paradise and begged James to make love to me again.

"You look more beautiful than ever," he said. "Having an orgasm agrees with you. How about I capture the moment with my sketchbook?"

I sat on the bed, sheet wrapped around my lower body with my bare breasts on display. After the next time we made love, I rolled over onto my belly with my ass in the air for James to draw.

A week later, after we'd made love for an hour or more, James wanted to sketch me again.

"Your pussy is swollen, red and glistening with your juices; now would be the perfect time to capture its splendor on paper."

"James, I am not sure if I want you to draw that part of me."

"Come now, Fiona. It will be for my eyes only."

I sensed he was on the verge of making an offer for me, and after all, he knew every inch of my body by now, so I didn't see the harm in it.

I lay back on the bed and allowed him to spread my legs. He pulled one knee up at a slight angle, which he said showed my pussy in the most alluring way.

He tickled me with the paintbrush for a few minutes until I giggled, and then got to work. I lay there for an hour while he sat at the bottom of the bed, not taking his eyes off the area between my legs as he sketched away.

He made love to me again before he showed me what he'd drawn. I had never seen my pussy before, or any pussy for that matter.

"Do all women look like this?"

"Of course...no, your pussy is the most beautiful I have ever seen, ever had the pleasure of putting my cock inside."

A marriage proposal was imminent; I sensed it. However, the next day when I went to his room, the landlady stopped me on the stairs and told me James had moved out and left me a note.


I'm sorry if I led you on. I know you were expecting me to make an offer for you, but the truth is I'm already married and was just looking for a young woman to pose nude for me. My apologies.

I crumpled the paper in my hand and threw it on the stairs. I wandered the streets, wondering how I'd been so foolish as to lose my virginity and pose for those sketches. James had also done something else terrible to me...I was now addicted to sex.

The story does not end there. A few months ago, Lord Davenport--yes, that Lord Davenport--stopped me at the spa and told me he had acquired nude paintings of me. James had sold them to him. Now they adorned Lord Davenport's bedroom walls. He advised me in no uncertain terms that I was to come to his bedchamber at noon the next day, or he would reveal the paintings to all of Bath.

I had no choice. I knew he would want to bed me. He wasn't the most attractive man, but I sensed if I closed my eyes and imagined he was James making love to me again, I could at least satisfy my sexual needs.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered me as soon as we got the bedroom. He touched my breasts first, then my belly, his hand sliding down into my pubic hair where his finger found the entrance to my pussy. I spread my legs for him, but he pulled away.

"Damn it."

He seemed to be in a rage now, throwing pillows across the room. "I thought the paintings would help me with my problem; that's why I bought them. When that didn't work, I was sure that seeing and touching you in the flesh would solve everything for me."

"Solve what?"

"I am unable to..."

He snapped open his pantaloons, pulling both sides away from his body. Despite him seeing me nude and touching me, his cock was flaccid.

I suddenly felt sorry for him. I put my hand on his cock, working it the way James had instructed me to do with his own member. Nothing happened, not a twitch, not even the slightest increase in hardness.

"Here, touch my pussy. Put your finger inside me, feel me."

He did as I suggested while I continued to stroke his cock, but the man was obviously impotent.

"You are not to say a word to anyone about my problem. No one, you understand?"

I kept my word, but now he had begun to call upon me at my parents' house, and it seemed in all likelihood he was about to make an offer for me.

The wind sent fallen leaves brushing over the top of my shoes, bringing me back to the present.

I could not marry a man who was impotent. I would hunger and long to be brought to climax every night.

Voices shouting in the gardens got my attention.

"He must be here somewhere," said one man. "Are you sure he headed outside?"

Three men were running up and down the garden, looking behind bushes and trees.

"Perhaps we should bring out the dogs. They will find him."

I don't know why, but at that moment, I glanced up at the second floor of the neighboring house and saw a man exiting one of the windows. I wondered if he'd been caught in bed with the mistress of the house and that was why the men pursued him. Lady Hardfield did have quite the reputation.

The man climbed into a nearby tree and slid down its branches until he was safely on the ground.

"Find him at all costs," shouted one of his pursuers.

I looked across the way again, but the man had disappeared--or so I thought. A moment later, I realized he was now in the gazebo, standing right beside me.

He grabbed me, put his mouth on my lips and kissed me. I sensed the men running by the gazebo.

"Pretend we are lovers?" the man whispered in my ear.

He ran his tongue up my neck and pulled me in closer. His erection pushed into my stomach, sending my own body into instant arousal. How delightful to have a man this excited so close to me again.

Clouds cleared from the moon, allowing me to see him. Talk, dark, broad shouldered, strong jaw line--overall, delightful.

His lips passed over my shoulder. I closed my eyes. The men were heading back this way again, so I kissed him, throwing my arms around him, hoping the men pursuing him wouldn't leave so he'd be forced to seduce me on the floor of the gazebo.

His hand dipped inside my bodice, his fingers grazing my nipples. They reacted within seconds. I think I moaned too.

"Meet me tomorrow at noon at the Harrogate Inn, and bring what I've given you."


He was gone before I could utter another word.

I passed my own hand over my bodice, imagining his hand still inside, tempting and teasing my nipples.

"Did you see a man here in the garden?" One of the men caught me off guard.

"No, not tonight," I said.

Something with a sharp edge bit into the top of my bosom. I slid my hand inside, feeling the corner of a slip of paper. I pulled it out, thinking that was why his hand had been inside my bodice. Walking over to the side of the gazebo where the moon cast more light, I opened up the paper. It looked like the plan of a house. Underneath it was written that the mission to free Napoleon would go ahead as planned, and this was the layout of the estate where he was being held.

Another man ran by, so I pushed the paper down into my bodice again. I sat on the bench. He was fleeing because he was a spy of some kind.

The little slip of paper I had resting on my bosom offered me leverage. I could hand him over to these men, to authorities...unless, of course, he did exactly what I asked.

I smiled. I knew exactly what I wanted from him.

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